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Strange Visitors From Another Century

Summary:

The destruction of the time turners in the Department of Mysteries throws Harry, Ron and Hermione a thousand years into the past. There they meet the Founders of Hogwarts, who are not at all pleased about what has happened to their school.

Notes:

Okay, so here it is. Parts of this chapter have been adapted from the first chapter of my previous story, but it is going to be very different. I hope you all enjoy it.

Some of the dialogue and descriptions from the first section are taken from 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' and are the sole property of J. K. Rowling.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Journey

Chapter Text

"Stupefy!"

Harry sprinted for the exit as hundreds of glass spheres rained down around him. He was dimly aware of Hermione by his side, and he could hear Ron and Neville just behind him, but the majority of his attention was on avoiding the pursuing Death Eaters and falling missiles. Anger and guilt coursed through his body, but he forced it aside; there would be time enough to brood on the consequences of his actions after they escaped. If they escaped… He elbowed a charging Death Eater in the face and ran on.

That was not their only narrow escape. At one point, a Death Eater got close enough to seize Harry's shoulder, but a well-placed Stunning Spell from Hermione sent the man flying away. Before long, though, they were out of the prophecy room and back in the room with the bell jar and the Time-Turners. The four teenagers cannoned inside, and Hermione cast a quick spell to seal it behind them. Harry nodded gratefully at her, but his relief soon faded.

"Where are the others?" He was sure he had seen Ginny and Luna run past them earlier, but the two witches were nowhere to be seen.

Ron went white at his words. "Ginny…"

"They must have gone a different way," Hermione whispered. "We'll find them." Ron nodded tightly, but he didn't reply.

"Listen," whispered Neville.

Harry forced himself to listen calmly to Lucius Malfoy's orders, but the knot of terror in his stomach was growing steadily tighter. They were outnumbered two to one, and their opponents were hardened killers. How were they supposed to get out of there alive, let alone find Ginny and Luna?

Hermione was visibly trembling. "What do we do?"

Looking at her, Harry felt a surge of determination. He was responsible for their situation; it was up to him to get them out if it.

"Well, we don't stand here waiting for them to find us, for a start," he said. "Let's get away from this door."

They were nearly at the exit when they heard the Death Eaters break through Hermione's charm. All four threw themselves under the desks, just as two burly wizards burst into the room.

"They might've run straight through to the hall," said a rough voice.

"Check under the desks," said another.

Harry didn't wait for them to find him.

"Stupefy!" The red light sent the nearest Death Eater stumbling back into a large clock, but the second avoided Ron's attack and took aim at Hermione.

"Avada-"

"No!" Ron let out a roar of fury and launched himself at the man, just as Harry dashed across the room to help. The impact sent all three of them crashing into Hermione, who, in turn, fell back against the display of Time-Turners.

"Stupefy!" The force of Ron's anger sent the Death Eater flying away, but he was not the only one to have performed the spell. Harry could only watch helplessly as Neville's own Stunning Spell flew past them and hit the cabinet. There was a dazzling explosion of red and gold then Harry felt a peculiar lurch in his stomach and everything went black.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He then spent the next ten minutes trying to convince me that the person responsible was his pet bowtruckle."

Godric raised an eyebrow. “His bowtruckle ate his homework?”

Salazar smirked. "Apparently so."

Helga's blue eyes gleamed with amusement. "What did you do?"

"Assigned him an essay on the importance of having a ready excuse."

“Salazar,” Rowena groaned. “Stop encouraging them."

Salazar grinned at her. “It is an important life skill. But I also gave him a detention for neglecting the original work.”

Godric shook his head. “We may make a teacher out of you yet.”

“And it only took twelve years,” said Helga. Her smile took the sting from her works, and Salazar’s gaze softened as it met hers. Godric watched the pair of them, a small smile playing about his lips.

Rowena, too, was content just to sit and enjoy her friends’ company. She enjoyed teaching, they all did, but it had been a long term and they had all been feeling the strain. Now that the students had departed, she was looking forwards to a few weeks’ rest. With all their responsibilities it was rare for the four of them to be able to spend much time together and they all appreciated the time to themselves.

Looking round at them, Rowena couldn’t help thinking back to their first meetings. Godric she had known since she was a child; their parents had been acquainted and the two young ones had seen each other fairly frequently growing up. Rowena shook her head. In many ways, Godric had hardly changed. He was still as unfailing good-natured as he had been as a child, and his fierce loyalty to his friends certainly hadn’t changed, but he wasn’t the same carefree spirit he had been. Years of travelling and fighting had turned the reckless hothead into a highly respected warrior and teacher, and as a Charms Master he was without equal. Despite that, he had retained a distinct, and Rowena felt not entirely appropriate, love of practical jokes.

If Godric was one who had never fully grown up, then Salazar had been forced to do so far too quickly. Only Godric knew the full truth of their friend’s past, but one would have to be stupid or unobservant not to be able to put the pieces together, and Rowena was neither. He might be the youngest of their quartet, but Salazar carried more scars than the rest of them put together. Not all of them were physical, but others... A slight frown crossed Rowena’s face as her eyes rested on his crippled leg. It had taken Salazar years to trust them enough to talk about that injury, and even then he refused to go into details. Little surprise then that he had travelled paths the rest of them had refused to tread, but despite his past, or perhaps because of it, Salazar had proved to be a true friend and his support had been invaluable in establishing the school.
Last, but certainly not least, there was Helga. Sweet, gentle Helga, who was often overlooked next to Godric and herself, but they were all well aware that Hogwarts would never have been possible without her. It had been her dream all those years ago that gave them purpose, and her unwavering belief in that dream had given them strength when things became difficult. They all knew better than to be deceived by the meek exterior; Helga had an indomitable will and she was completely dedicated to protecting those she cared about. She had also often proved to be the one who kept the peace whenever the inevitable arguments ensued.
"Rowena?"

Rowena started and looked up. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Amusement replaced concern in Godric’s green eyes. "You haven't heard a word I've been saying, have you?"

Rowena felt her cheeks heat up under his gaze. "My apologies. I was distracted."

“We noticed,” said Salazar with a grin. He shot a sly glance at Godric. “Perfectly understandable, really.”

Godric rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but his retort was cut off as a dazzling flash of red and gold light filled the room.

Despite being blinded by the brilliant display, all four mages were immediately on their feet, their wands raised ready to defend themselves. Rowena didn’t need to see to know that Godric and Salazar had moved forwards in an attempt to take the brunt of an attack, but none of them were prepared for a jumble of bodies flying through the air and landing on the floor in front of them with a crash.
In all the confusion, no one noticed the small glass ball the rolled across the floor and came to rest underneath Godric’s chair.
The light eventually faded enough for Rowena to make out three children, two boys and a girl. One of the boys had hair even brighter than Godric’s, while the other had an odd framework of wire and glass perched on the end of his nose. All three wore black robes that appeared to be a uniform. A distinctly familiar uniform. Helga instinctively moved to go to them, but Salazar caught her eye and shook his head. Rowena nodded in agreement; Salazar could be over-protective, but in this case she understood the need for caution. The children seemed harmless, but these were dangerous times and they had good reason to be careful. They had made many enemies over the years.

As they watched, the redheaded boy let out a groan. "Harry? Hermione?"

The other boy, presumably Harry, grunted and raised his head. "What…" His eyes widened abruptly as he looked round. "Where are we?"

The girl sat up carefully. "I don't know… Neville's spell must have reacted with the Time-Turners somehow."

The first boy went pale. "Who cares how, Ginny's still there!"

Harry scrambled to his feet. "And Luna and Neville. We have to get back!" He spun round, and finally noticed Rowena and the others. "Er, guys…"

Godric stepped forwards, all traces of joviality gone from his face. "I do not know who you are, but you will now explain why you are here, and how you managed to bypass our wards!" None of the trio answered him, and his eyes narrowed. "I, Godric Gryffindor, demand that you identify yourselves at once!"
The effect of his words on the strangers was remarkable. The girl let out a gasp and the boys exchanged stunned looks.
The redhead swallowed. "Bloody hell."

"Ronald!" the witch hissed.

"Hermione, didn't you hear-" Ronald began indignantly, but the girl, Hermione, had already turned to face Godric.

"I'm sorry sir, but could you tell us where we are?"

Godric frowned but answered readily. “You are standing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Godric Gryffindor, and these are my companions, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin.”
Rowena thought she saw a flicker of dislike in the boys’ faces at the mention of Salazar’s name, but she was more interested in the pure astonishment they all expressed at Godric’s words.

Hermione made a visible effort to pull herself together. "My…my name is Hermione Granger, and these are my friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." The boys mumbled awkward greetings and she continued, "We honestly don't know what happened. We were fighting, then there was an explosion, and ..." She broke off and took a deep breath. "This is going to sound very strange, but what year is it?"

Rowena raised an eyebrow, but the scathing retort died on her lips as the implications of the question struck home. Next to her, she felt Salazar tense as he came to the same conclusion.
"Anno domini 1005," he said quietly. He ignored a muffled exclamation from Ron, and the strange wariness in Harry's eyes, instead keeping his gaze fixed on Hermione's suddenly pale face. "And I think that I should be asking you the same question."

Hermione shook her head numbly. "This isn't possible."

"Nothing is impossible," Rowena corrected automatically. "Answer the question please."

Harry spoke for the first time then. "It is…was… 1996." His voice was surprisingly steady. "Nearly one thousand years in the future."

There was stunned silence. If they were telling the truth... Rowena’s mind reeled at the implications. Then the spell was broken and Godric and Helga whirled to Rowena.

"Is this possible?"

"How could this happen?"

"Would there be a way to reverse it?"

Rowena couldn’t help but notice, with some amusement, that Harry and Ron were doing the exact same thing to Hermione.

"Can we trust them?" A new silence fell as Salazar's clear voice cut through the clamour. Rowena saw Helga wince at their friend’s sharpness, but none of them were prepared for the sudden hostility that appeared on Harry’s face.

“How do we know we can trust you?” he snapped. “This could be another Death Eater trap.”

Ron gaped at him. “Harry, these are the Founders of Hogwarts!”

“No, they say they are. Come on, what’s more likely, that we’ve travelled a thousand years into the past or that the Death Eaters are trying to trick us again?”

Godric’s expression hardened. “I assure you, we are who we say we are.”

“And what is a Death Eater?” asked Salazar.

Harry glared at him, but Hermione spoke before he could. “Harry, they’re telling the truth.”

Harry frowned, attention temporarily diverted. “But how can they be? It’s impossible.”

Hermione shook her head and gestured out the window. “I thought so too, but Harry, this is Hogwarts.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “But-”

“It is mate.” Ron had moved to the window and was staring out over the darkening grounds. “There’s the lake and everything.”

Harry stared from him to Hermione and back again. “But we were in the Ministry. In London.” He shook his head. “What the hell is going on?”

Ron’s freckles stood out in sharp contrast to his suddenly bloodless face. “Then we really have gone back in time?”

“It looks that way,” said Hermione quietly.

Harry stood there, his thin shoulders shaking. “Then Ginny, Neville...” Ron closed his eyes at the thought and Hermione bit her lip. Rowena sighed. If these three were telling the truth, and they really had been torn from their own time... She saw Godric and Salazar exchange grim looks. Helga took a step forwards, her arms spread in welcome.

“I am so sorry,” she said gently. “Know that we will do everything we can to help you.”

Rowena nodded. “We are unfamiliar with time-travel, but you are welcome to stay with us for now.”

Salazar stirred at that. “Indeed, we will do everything in our power to assist you. If,” his eyes narrowed, “you are telling the truth.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Helga frowned at Salazar. “What reason would they have for lying?”

“Exactly,” Ron exclaimed. “We didn’t ask for this!”

Salazar remained unperturbed by their anger. “These are dangerous times,” he reminded them. “And it would not be the first time that people have tried to deceive us.”

Rowena shuddered. Those memories were still too raw for comfort. Helga paled at the thought, and Godric’s grip on his wand tightened. It was a very good point.

Harry stared at them. “You think we’re trying to trick you? We’re teenagers; we couldn’t fool you if we tried.”

Salazar met his furious gaze without wavering. “Then you will not mind if we make sure.”

Rowena’s breath caught in her throat. “Salazar!”

Salazar glanced at her. “Do you have a better solution?”

Rowena bit her lip. She didn’t and Salazar knew it, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. She could appreciate the technique’s effectiveness, and certainly understood its necessity, but she could never fully approve of the invasion of privacy.

Harry’s gaze flickered between them. “A better solution to what?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”

Godric sighed. “I apologise, but Salazar is right. We cannot afford to take the risk.”

Harry stood his ground. “What are you going to do?” Rowena noted that Ron and Hermione moved automatically to stand at his side, and couldn’t help but wonder what could have formed such a close connection. Godric nodded approvingly at the show of support, but he wasn’t distracted.

“If you are willing, we would use Legilimency to examine your memories.”

The reaction was immediate and decidedly negative.

“You're not looking at any of our memories,” said Harry firmly. “They’re private.”

Godric frowned. “We merely wish to ascertain if you are telling the truth regarding your identities and situation. We will not disclose the information to anybody else.”

“And if we refuse?” asked Hermione.

Salazar’s expression hardened. “Then we must assume that you wish us harm.”

“But we don’t,” Ron protested. “And even if we did, we’re no threat to you.”

“But we cannot know that,” said Godric. “You have already done what should not have been possible in entering Hogwarts without our permission. Considering that, we have to act with caution.”

Harry glared at them. “I don’t care what you say; you are not going poking round in our heads.” There was no doubt that he was in earnest. Ron and Hermione’s expressions were equally determined.

“There is another reason,” said Helga quietly. “If we do not know who you are and where you came from, we will not be able to send you back.”

Rowena suppressed a smile as the visitors exchanged dismayed looks. It was very easy to underestimate Helga.

“I agree,” she said. “You have told us your names and your time of origin, but unless we know exactly what is going on, there is very little we will be able to do to help.”

“But you don’t need to see our memories for that,” Hermione argued. “We could just as easily tell you what you need to know.”

“Maybe,” Helga agreed. “But the details you may consider irrelevant may well be the ones that are most important.” Her voice softened. “We will not look at anything you consider personal and we will not try to reach your private thoughts. A selection of memories is all we would need.” She paused. “I regret that this is necessary, but we cannot risk our endangering our students.”

Hermione bit her lip. “You say you would only have to look at a few memories?”

“That would be enough,” Helga assured her. “I promise you, your thoughts and feelings will be safe.”

Hermione nodded, but Harry and Ron looked less convinced and Rowena could hardly blame them. They had little choice in the matter, but they certainly didn’t have to like it.

“If we do agree, who would do the spell?” asked Ron after a moment.

Godric nodded at Salazar. “Salazar is the best Legilimens of us. He will be able to obtain the information we need without causing you any discomfort.”

Harry’s eyes blazed. “Absolutely not!”

Godric blinked. “Master Potter-”

“No. There is no way I am letting Salazar Slytherin in my head.”

Helga frowned at him. “My dear, Salazar is one of the best Legilimens in the country. He is not going to harm you.”

Salazar’s eyes darkened at the disbelief on their faces. “I think you may be labouring under some misconceptions.”

Ron stared at him. “What misconceptions? Nobody in their right mind would trust you after what you did.”

Salazar’s eyes widened at the hatred in his face, but Godric’s answering glare was equally grim. “I trust Salazar with my life,” he growled. “And unless you wish to take this up in private, you will refrain from insulting those who are closer than family to me.”

Ron squirmed under his furious gaze and glanced at Helga, but if he was hoping for support he was to be disappointed. The witch had moved to stand at her Salazar’s side, and her usually warm blue eyes were flinty.

For her part, Rowena was filled with confusion. Salazar might not be the easiest person to get along with, but he had proved himself a true and valued friend long ago. All three of them trusted him implicitly, but it seemed their guests took a rather different view. Rowena had seen their suspicion, hostility even, from their first introduction, but she was at a loss to understand it.

“I believe you must be mistaken,” she said, unconsciously adopting the tone she used to scold unruly first years. “Please explain why Salazar would not have our complete trust.”

Harry stared at her. “Well, he hates Muggle-borns!”

“No, I do not,” Salazar snapped. “I have no reason to like Muggles, but I certainly bear their magical offspring no ill will.”

Harry blinked. “You don’t?”

“Certainly not.” His eyes narrowed. “And I would very much like to know the source of such slander.”

Ron seemed to recover the power of speech at that. “But what about the Chamber of Secrets?”

Rowena frowned. “Chamber of Secrets?”

Harry’s eyes gleamed. “So he never told you that he built a secret chamber under the school and a stuck a basilisk in there?”

Godric spread his hands. “Of course he did.”

Harry froze. “He-what-?”

“He could hardly have kept it a secret,” Rowena pointed out. “Our magic is tied to this castle; it would be impossible to hide something of that scale from us. We actually helped with the construction. But I fail to see what Issa has to do with any of this.”

“Issa?”

“My basilisk,” said Salazar impatiently. “Though I suppose I should say our basilisk considering the time Helga spent with her.”

Hermione stared at him. “Wait a minute. Are you saying it wasn’t supposed to kill Muggle-borns?”

“What?”

Rowena felt the shock like a punch in the gut. That had never been her purpose. Issa might have been Salazar’s delight, but all of them had grown fond of her over the years. The thought of anyone using her to kill was enough to make her ill. She could only imagine how Salazar must be feeling.

Sure enough, Salazar’s face was ashen. “What are you saying? She is there to protect vulnerable students, not murder them!”

Helga laid a hand on his arm, but her own face was pale as she turned to the children. “Please explain yourselves.”

Hermione swallowed. “The history books say that Slytherin didn’t think Muggle-borns were worthy of magic and so shouldn’t be allowed to study at Hogwarts.”

“That is absurd!” Godric exclaimed. “Salazar has never expressed such sentiments; indeed, he was most insistent that students of all backgrounds be included.”

“Let her finish Godric,” said Rowena sharply. “Please continue.”

Hermione hesitated a moment, but did as she asked. “Well, it’s said that he built a secret room and put a monster in there that only he could control. His heirs were supposed to use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.”

Salazar shook with the effort of controlling himself. “That is a lie. I have never been against the inclusion of Muggle-borns, and I certainly have never plotted to massacre them.”

Harry still looked doubtful. “Then why is it here? Why keep something that dangerous in a school full of children?”

“To protect it! She was intended to be a final layer of defence against attack.” His silver eyes burned into Harry’s green ones. “Every student in this castle, Muggle-born, half-blood and pure-blood is under my protection. I would die before harming any of them.”

“I can attest to that,” said Godric. His face was very troubled. “We all agreed to house the basilisk here, to protect our students if we could not. I do not understand how history could have portrayed us so inaccurately.”

“It has been a thousand years,” said Hermione slowly. “Records could have been lost or corrupted. But there had to be some basis for what we’ve been taught.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “Hang on; you said earlier that you don’t like Muggles. If that’s true, how can you say you don’t hate their children too?”

Helga frowned at him. “Do you not know of the current relations between Muggles and wizards?” Hermione's eyes widened, but Harry frowned.

"A bit, but I don't see why you have to hate them so much."

Rowena stared at him, Whatever he had heard did not appear to have conveyed the severity of the situation. She pointedly avoided looking at Salazar; she knew the extra attention would not be appreciated. Helga just sighed.

“I see.”

Godric touched her shoulder. “Allow me.”

Helga shot him a grateful smile and moved to stand next to Salazar again. Rowena understood; the ensuing memories were not going to be pleasant. Godric gave a sad smile before turning back to the trio.

“Maybe where you come from thing are different, but here magic is not seen as a gift but a curse. Many young witches and wizards are persecuted when they first start exhibiting unusual abilities, even when they do no harm. They are insulted, attacked, even driven away by those who fear what they can do.” His voice fell. “They do not always survive the experience.”

Rowena reached over and took Helga’s hand. Her friend gripped it tightly and Rowena knew she was remembering her own experience with a Muggle mob. Thanks to Salazar, she had escaped unscathed, but she would never be able to forget it. Rowena glanced at Salazar. His face was completely blank, but the set of his shoulders betrayed his tension. He had not been as fortunate as Helga. Godric’s eyes flickered to hers and she clearly saw his regret at the pain his words were causing, but they had no choice. Their visitors had to understand the world they were now a part of.

Sure enough, Harry, Ron and Hermione could only stare at Godric in horror as he continued to describe the plight of Muggle-borns in their time. Things had improved since Hogwarts had opened; Godric and Salazar spent much of their free time searching for endangered mages and bringing them to the castle for training, but even they could not save everyone. Too many were killed or permanently crippled by the hatred they faced.

There was silence for several minutes while the travellers assimilated the information. Eventually Harry raised his head, and Rowena was pleased to see more than suspicion in his eyes as he looked at Salazar.

“We’ve all been taught that you hated Muggles and Muggle-borns,” he said slowly. “Many Slytherins and pure-bloods in our time still believe that.”

Salazar shook his head. “I will not pretend to like Muggles. They fear what they do not understand and they hate that which they fear.” A shadow crossed his face. “And they have given me good reason to hate them in return.” He shook himself, but his eyes remained hard. “I know what they are capable of and I would never expose a child to such danger. Here they can live and learn in safety.”

Godric nodded. “We have disagreed many times in the past, but never about that.”

“Everyone has the right to live their lives free of persecution,” said Rowena quietly.

“Precisely,” said Salazar. He ran a hand through his long hair and let out a deep, shuddering breath. “What has happened? Why do they now believe these things of me?”

Helga reached over and took his hand. “We will find a way to make the truth known,” she promised. “We know that you are not a monster.”

Salazar’s tormented gaze met hers. “It seems you will be the only ones.” He straightened up, anguish disappearing behind his shields with the ease of long practise before he turned to face Harry, Ron and Hermione. “I do not know what history has told you, but I have never hated Muggle-borns. I fear for them, that their loved ones will not be able to accept their studies, but I have never advocated denying them entrance to Hogwarts. Nor shall I in the future. It would do more harm than good.”

Hermione nodded slowly, her brown eyes thoughtful. “Would you mind if we had a moment? We need to talk about this.” Godric nodded and the three of them stepped aside and started whispering. Salazar watched them, his face expressionless, but Rowena knew him well enough not to be fooled. Neither were the others. Those words had hurt more than he would ever show. With a sigh, she returned her attention to the children.

Rowena had to fight to restrain her impatience as she watched the three of them whisper to each other. She noted that Ron and Hermione seemed to defer to Harry, and she kept her eyes on the black haired boy. A few minutes later they seemed to reach an agreement, and Rowena felt her stomach tighten. Had they been able to accept the truth, or had their belief in their history books prove the stronger? She saw Godric tense as they moved back. He might sympathise with their plight, but he did not take kindly to those who could not accept those he considered friends.

After a moment though, she let out a sigh of relief. There was no anger in Harry’s emerald eyes, and while he still looked wary, he seemed more embarrassed as he looked at Salazar.

“We’ve decided we believe you,” he mumbled. “And we’re sorry for what we said earlier. We thought, well...”

Salazar raised his hand, cutting off his nervous apologies. “It is of no consequence.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he took in Ron’s flaming red ears and Hermione’s anxious expression. “If what you told us is correct, I cannot blame you.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped and he gave a weak smile. “Thanks.”

Helga smiled at them, her good-humour immediately restored. “It took a great deal of courage to admit that,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Godric nodded approvingly. “It was well done,” he agreed. “Have we managed to assuage all your fears?”

“I guess so,” said Ron. His expression turned apprehensive. “Does this mean we still have to have our memories searched?”

Rowena glanced at the others, but she knew what the answer would be. The trio certainly sounded convincing, but this could still be an elaborate trap. They knew people who were all too capable of it.

“I am afraid so,” said Godric apologetically. “It will not take long; verification is all we need.”

The trio exchanged resigned looks.

“It doesn’t look like we have any choice,” Harry sighed.

Salazar shook his head. “It is necessary.” His eyes betrayed his sympathy, but his resolve was implacable. Rowena sighed. She disliked Legilimency, but there was no denying
that it was the fastest and most accurate method available to them. They would not be tricked again.

Hermione nodded reluctantly. “All right then.”

Salazar studied her. “Do you object to me performing the test?”

The witch hesitated only a moment before shaking her head. Salazar nodded.

“Very well. I know you have been trained to resist mental attack, but I would appreciate it if you tried to relax.”

Hermione blinked. “But I’ve never had Occlumency training.”

“What?” Godric exclaimed. “You are Hogwarts students, are you not?”

“Yes, fifth years, but we’ve never been taught Occlumency.”

“We’d never even heard of it until this year,” Ron added.

Godric and Salazar exchanged grim looks. Rowena was no less perturbed. They all knew the dangers of leaving their minds completely unprotected, and Occlumency had been a compulsory field of study since the beginning. This news was troubling. What else had changed?

Harry’s eyes widened. “So you teach Occlumency to everyone?”

“Of course,” said Helga. “It would hardly be fair for only a small proportion of students to benefit.”

For some reason, Harry’s cheeks tinged pink. “I guess not.”

Salazar shook his head. “So none of you have any experience with Occlumency?” He did not look pleased, and Rowena didn’t blame him in the slightest.

Harry grimaced. “I had lessons for a while, but they were a bit of a disaster.”

“You didn’t try,” Hermione muttered.

“Come one Hermione, the teacher was a git,” Ron pointed out.

Harry’s blush deepened. “Can we talk about it later?”

Salazar nodded and turned back to Hermione. “Try to relax,” he said gently. “This will not hurt.” His sharp gaze found hers.

Hermione’s body stiffened as Salazar entered her mind. Ron started and tried to move forwards, but Godric shook his head.

“She’s fine, lad. Salazar knows what he is doing.”

Ron didn’t look convinced, but he stopped moving. His eyes didn’t move from Hermione’s still form. Harry was equally tense.

A moment later, Hermione let out a long shuddering breath as Salazar broke the connection. Ron quickly went to her, but Salazar held up a hand.

“A troll?” His eyes were slightly wild. Ron froze, his expression torn between confusion and concern, but Harry winced.

“You saw that?”

“I did, and I would very much like an explanation.”

“If it involves a troll, I think I do too,” said Godric grimly.

Harry glanced at the others and sighed. “Why don’t we wait until you’ve checked me and Ron,” he suggested. “There’ll be more to explain than the troll.”

Rowena felt a surge of foreboding. That did not sound promising.

Salazar’s eyes darkened. “I see.” He turned to Ron. “Master Weasley?”

This time the examination took longer, and Salazar was ashen when he emerged from the memories.

“Salazar,” Helga began, but Salazar shook his head.

“I am fine,” he assured her. “Though how these three are is beyond me.”

Harry glanced at Ron. “Aragog?”

Ron shuddered. “And Sirius at Hallowe’en.”

Rowena opened her mouth, but Harry shook his head. “It’s going to get worse.”

Salazar stared at him. “Worse?”

Harry sighed and squared his shoulders. “I’ll show you.”

Salazar chose not to waste time with further questions, He stepped forwards and his gaze locked with Harry’s. Rowena felt the feeling of foreboding intensify, and the troubled look that passed between Ron and Hermione did nothing to assuage her fears.

After a moment, it became clear that something was very wrong. Harry’s face twisted into a scowl and both wizards began to tremble. Ron swallowed.

“Is that supposed to happen?”

Godric shook his head, his attention fixed on Salazar. “It would take some truly traumatic memories to affect them like that.”

Ron grimaced. “That explains it then. Harry’s pretty much the authority on traumatic.”

Godric stared at him, but before he could comment, Salazar let out a strangled hiss and staggered back and Godric had to catch his arm to steady him.

“Salazar!”

Salazar didn’t even seem to hear him. He stood staring at the young wizard in front of him, his face a mask of horror. Harry met his gaze, his green eyes glittering in his bloodless face. Godric glanced helplessly at Helga, but Salazar spoke then, his voice hoarse with shock.

“What in the name of God has happened to our world?”

Chapter 2: Many Discussions

Notes:

I apologise in advance for the amount of talking in this chapter, but they did have rather a lot to get through. I hope you all enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry had to force himself not to flinch as Slytherin moved forwards. He was willing to admit that he might have been mistaken about the Founder, but that didn't mean he wanted him in his head. Unfortunately, all four Founders had made it quite clear that they were not going to trust them unless they saw for themselves. The Founders... Harry forced away the now familiar rush of disbelief. He couldn't afford to be thinking about that now. Considering the looks on their faces, he would be better served by finding an explanation for the things Slytherin had seen in Ron and Hermione's minds. Not to mention his own. Harry suppressed a sigh. The troll and the acromantulas would have been bad enough. Then Slytherin's eyes met his and Harry felt a surge of magic.

He was expecting it to hurt. Snape had never been gentle and he had little hope that Slytherin would be any better. So he was astonished when there was nothing more than a light pressure, and even that faded after a moment.

"Try to relax, Master Potter."

Harry's eyes widened as Slytherin's voice sounded clearly in his mind, but before he could say anything he was overwhelmed by a flood of images.

Uncle Vernon shouting, Dudley laughing, being shoved in his cupboard, the door slamming shut... Hagrid telling him he was a wizard... coming face to face with Fluffy... fighting Quirrell while Voldemort screamed instructions from the back of his head... he and Ron surrounded by acromantulas... running from the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets... hearing his parents' screams as Dementors swarmed the Quidditch pitch, falling... Lupin transforming under a full moon... desperately trying to avoid the Hungarian Horntail in the First Task... watching in horror as Voldemort was reborn... duelling in the graveyard... standing before the Wizengamot… running from Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries... colliding with the cabinet of Time-Turners... a flash of red and gold light...

Harry gasped as the flow of images suddenly ceased. The world spun before his eyes and he was glad when Ron gripped his arm.

"Harry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Blinking away the dizziness, Harry looked up to find Slytherin staring at him, his face pale with horror.

"What in God's name has happened to our world?"

"Salazar," Gryffindor began, but Slytherin shook him off, his burning gaze still fixed on Harry.

"What is going on?" he demanded. "Trolls, dragons, Dementors, werewolves...You are supposed to be safe here, not find new ways to get yourself killed every year!"

"What?" Hufflepuff exclaimed. Harry winced, but Slytherin wasn't finished.

"Do you not have competent teachers? And who was the man who appeared so often? What does he have to do with all this?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his scar. "Does it matter?" He frowned as a sudden breeze whipped at his hair. "What the-?"

"Salazar," said Godric sharply. "Stop it."

Slytherin closed his eyes for a moment, and the breeze died as suddenly as it had come. Harry blinked and glanced at the windows. They were all closed. Ron's confused gaze met his, but Hermione was staring at Slytherin, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry followed her gaze. Slytherin's body shook with the effort of controlling his fury, but his voice when he spoke was deadly calm.

"Of course it matters. The welfare of every student matters, whether from the future or not. Now tell us what is going on?"

Harry shivered. He almost preferred the anger. The concerned looks that were passing between the other Founders were not exactly encouraging either. He sighed.

"It's a long story."

"We have time."

Gryffindor stirred. "He is quite correct," he said quietly. "If something is wrong, then we would like to try and help." His expression darkened. "Especially if it concerns our school and our students."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione. They both looked wary, but resigned. Harry sighed and turned back to the Founders.

"All right, but can we sit down? This is going to take a while."

"Of course," Hufflepuff agreed. She directed a pointed look at Slytherin. "It would do us all some good."

Slytherin rolled his eyes but, to Harry's surprise, didn't argue. Harry frowned as he watched him limp back to his chair. He hadn't known that Slytherin had been crippled. Then again, it seemed there was a lot he hadn't known. He wanted to question it, but one look at Godric's expression made him decide to keep his mouth shut. There was a warning glint in his green eyes, and Harry remembered how fiercely he had come to Slytherin's defence earlier. He decided not to test his patience and was rewarded with an slight nod.

There were only four chairs in the room, but Ravenclaw soon solved that problem. A wave of her hand and a long comfortable couch appeared.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Harry could see that Hermione was dying to ask how she had performed magic silently and without a wand, but somehow she was able to hold her tongue. Harry suppressed a grin as he sat between his friends. No doubt she would bombard all four Founders with questions just as soon as she got over her hero worship. Ron was equally tongue-tied. Harry supposed that, growing up in a wizarding household, he would have heard stories about the Founders all his life. Not that he was much better. After all, the four people in front of him were some of the most renowned mages in history. He had to admit though, that they were not quite what he had expected.

Well, some of them were. Godric Gryffindor was every inch the warrior; tall and muscular, he effortlessly commanded the attention of the room, but his face was creased with laughter lines and Harry instinctively felt safe in his presence. Helga Hufflepuff produced a similar effect. Harry had often heard the opinion that Hufflepuff had been the weakest of the Founders but, looking at them, it was clear that this was another of history's mistakes. The other three treated her with the utmost respect and affection, and having felt her disapproval earlier, Harry could see why. Now though, her smile held nothing but welcome as she looked at them.

The remaining two could not have been more different to their friends. Harry struggled to keep a blush from rising to his cheeks as he looked at Rowena Ravenclaw; the witch was even more beautiful than the legends told, but there was a coolness to her beauty that contrasted sharply with Helga's warmth. Harry couldn't deny that she was intimidating, but he remembered how her sharp demeanour had softened when she looked at her fellow Founders. There was clearly more to her than met the eye. And speaking of looking below the surface...

Harry turned his gaze towards Salazar Slytherin. Learning that the reputedly evil wizard did not in face want to exterminate all Muggle-borns had come as quite a shock. If not for the fact that the other Founders knew and clearly approved of the basilisk, Harry would have insisted that he was lying. As it was, he was forced to wonder what else history had neglected to tell them.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Slytherin glanced towards him. Harry suppressed a shiver with an effort; those silver eyes saw far too much. Despite that, he didn't sense any antagonism, an impression that was confirmed when Slytherin gave a slight nod. Still a little bemused, Harry turned to the other Founders.

"So, what did you want to know?"

"Who is responsible for the attempts on your life and why," said Slytherin immediately.

Gryffindor's expression turned grim. "Agreed."

Harry sighed. "I guess that's as good a place to start as any." He took a deep breath. "His name is Voldemort. Oh come on, Ron," he snapped when his friend shuddered.

Ron glared back. "It's not as easy for the rest of us, you know."

Rowena frowned at them. "What, may I ask, is the problem?"

"No one says his name," Ron told her. "Unless they're stubborn prats," he amended, glancing at Harry.

"There's nothing to be scared of! Dumbledore, Sirius and Lupin all say it, and even Hermione does now."

"Maybe we would understand better if you actually told us who this Voldemort is," Helga suggested.

Harry nodded. "Yes, er, ma'am..."

"Professor will be fine, dear," she said gently.

"Right. Well, Voldemort," he ignored Ron this time, "is a Dark wizard who tried to take over the wizarding world about twenty years ago."

"Twenty two," Hermione corrected.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Twenty two then. Anyway, he began killing anyone who got in his way until everyone was completely terrified. That's when everyone started calling him You-Know-Who instead of Voldemort."

Godric shook his head. "They're only giving him more power over them," he said. "His name alone can do nothing. But that's beside the point. Did no one try to stop him?"

Ron grimaced. "They tried. Most of them died." He hesitated a moment. "Two of my uncles were among them."

Harry blinked. He had never known that, and he felt a sudden surge of guilt. He wasn't the only one who had lost loved ones to Voldemort. The Founders shared a brief look.

"We are sorry for your loss," said Gryffindor quietly.

Ron forced a smile. "Thanks. It took five Death Eaters to get them."

Salazar frowned. "Death Eaters?"

"Voldemort's followers."

Salazar stared at him. "That is completely ridiculous."

Harry grinned at him. "Tell me about it." He suddenly remembered who he was talking to and felt his cheeks heat up, but Slytherin just smirked back.

Rowena, too, was scowling. "He seems to have a propensity for it. I refuse to believe any parent would name their child Voldemort."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, he chose that too. His real name is Tom Riddle."

"A perfectly acceptable name. Why change it?"

Hermione's expression darkened. "Because he didn't want his group of mindless sycophants to know what a hypocrite he is. "

Godric frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Voldemort wants to rid the world of all Muggles and Muggle-borns," Harry explained. "So he can't exactly let all his pureblood followers find out that he's a half-blood."

Helga looked sickened. "That's disgusting." Godric and Rowena were equally grim, but Salazar had gone pale.

"You said that people believe I had the same prejudices," he said quietly. "Does Voldemort believe this too?"

Harry hesitated, but he already knew that trying to hide things would be futile. "He thinks he's finishing your 'noble work.'" He briefly considered telling him that Voldemort was his heir, but that thought flew out his head at the unadulterated horror on Slytherin's face.

"He's using my name to justify these atrocities?" Harry didn't reply, but his silence seemed to be answer enough. Slytherin's knuckles cracked as his grip tightened round his staff. Helga reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

"This is not your fault," she insisted. "You are not responsible for his actions."

Salazar closed his eyes. "Everyone will think I am." He let out a long breath and looked up. "What happened?"

Taken aback by the sudden mood shift, Harry glanced at Gryffindor, but the Founder just nodded. Harry swallowed.

"Well, there were a few people who tried to fight. Led by Albus Dumbledore, they formed a group called the Order of the Phoenix."

"Dumbledore was and is Headmaster of Hogwarts," Hermione explained before anyone could ask. "He's one of the greatest wizards of all time."

"He's a genius," Ron agreed. "Bit mad of course, but completely brilliant."

"That sounds familiar," Helga murmured.

Harry smiled. "He was also the only one that Voldemort was ever scared of. They say he was the reason Voldemort never tried to attack Hogwarts."

All four Founders relaxed slightly at that.

"Good," said Godric. "The Headmaster should be capable of defending the school. But how did the formation of the Order affect the war?"

Harry had to think about it. "I don't really know." He glanced at Hermione, but it was Ron who answered.

"They did their best, but Voldemort was too powerful. He had far more followers than Dumbledore, and he kept recruiting more. And it wasn't just humans. He had vampires, werewolves, giants..." He broke off shaking his head to find Hermione staring at him.

"How did you know about all that?"

He shrugged. "Bill told me. He remembers a bit of what it was like, and he's been learning more so he can see how You-Know-Who's methods have changed. It's interesting."

Harry winced at the surprise on Hermione's face. Really, was it so hard to believe Ron could take an interest in things like that?

Rowena gave a polite cough, drawing their attention back to the present. "Might we continue? How was he ever stopped if he commanded such forces?"

"Harry," said Ron simply.

Harry gritted his teeth as four pairs of eyes came to rest on him. "I didn't do anything."

Ron held his hands up. "I know mate, but you know what people say."

"Well some people are idiots. I was barely a year old; even if I had known what was happening I wouldn't have been able to do anything."

"Why don't you tell us exactly what happened and we can debate it afterwards," Rowena suggested dryly.

Harry opened his mouth and suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He had come to terms with his parents' sacrifice, but talking about it with four strangers... Yet they had to know, had to understand. Hermione was looking at him, the offer clear in her eyes, but he shook his head. Listening to it would be even worse.

"My parents were in the Order," he began abruptly. He saw Slytherin's eyes narrow but didn't give him a chance to speak. "For some reason, Voldemort targeted them, so they went into hiding. One of their best friends betrayed them."

"Filthy rat," Ron snarled.

Godric's face twisted with rage. "Despicable." Helga and Rowena looked no less disgusted.

"Go on," said Salazar quietly. His silver eyes were still fixed on Harry.

Harry looked at the floor. "Voldemort came to their house," he said. "He killed them and then tried to kill me." He heard Ravenclaw give a low gasp and had to force himself to keep from snapping.

"What kind of monster attacks children?" Helga growled. Harry glanced up, momentarily distracted by the fury in her voice and had to fight back a shiver. No, he would never think of Hufflepuff as the weak one again.

"How did you survive?"

Harry blinked in surprise at Salazar's question. The Founder's gaze was still firmly on him, but there was no pity in his eyes. Just compassion and... understanding. Not exactly something he would have expected from the founder of Slytherin, and he noted the reaction for closer study later. Now though, the gesture was very welcome.

"I don't know," he replied. "Somehow the curse rebounded back on him, destroying his body."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "His body?"

Harry grimaced. "He survived in a sort of spirit form. But he could come back."

"Intriguing," said Rowena. "I have never ever heard of such an effect. If I may ask, what curse did he use?"

Harry glanced away. "Avada kedavra."

Rowena stared at him. "But that curse cannot be blocked. By all rights, you should have been killed."

Helga winced at her bluntness, but Harry just shrugged. "It's never happened before. Professor Dumbledore said Mum's sacrifice formed some sort of protection."

Ravenclaw and Slytherin exchanged a long look.

"It could be possible," said Salazar slowly. He glanced back at Harry. "Did you suffer any ill-effects?"

Harry brushed back his fringe to reveal his scar. "Just this."

Helga studied it, a slight frown on her face. "Is it normally that inflamed?"

"Er..."

"Only if he's had a nightmare," Ron supplied.

"A dream?"

Harry sighed. "There's some sort of connection between Voldemort and me. I sometimes get flashes of his emotions, or visions of what he's doing." He dropped his gaze as the memory of his last vision came to mind, along with a hot surge of shame. If he hadn't been so reckless, they wouldn't be in this situation.

Helga's soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Has anyone ever examined it properly?"

Harry frowned. "I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

Hufflepuff did not look pleased. "It sounds like it could contain some residual magic. If you agreeable, I would like to test it to be sure."

Harry felt a surge of alarm. "You mean it could be hurting me?"

"I do not know. It may be nothing to worry about, but it can do no harm to be sure." Her frown darkened. "Under the circumstances, I would have expected someone to have done so already."

"Dumbledore might have done something the night he took you to the Dursleys," Hermione suggested. "I suppose we can't know for sure."

Helga nodded, but Harry had stiffened at the mention of the Dursleys. Being locked in the cupboard was one of the memories Slytherin had seen and, given his views on Muggles, he didn't think the Founder would be very impressed. Sure enough, Salazar's face was pale with barely suppressed fury, and Harry felt a surge of fear. He couldn't have everyone know about that. He fixed his eyes on the Founder, silently begging him not to say anything.

Slytherin's eyes narrowed as they met his, and for a moment, Harry was sure he was going to speak, but after a slight hesitation, the man gave a slow nod. Harry slumped back, weak with relief, but he couldn't feel completely at ease. Slytherin's expression said quite clearly that he had no intention of forgetting the matter. With an effort, Harry forced himself to concentrate on the conversation; Ron was busy explaining who the Dursleys were to the other Founders, and from the looks on their faces, he was being more detailed than Harry would have liked. The frown on Gryffindor's face was decidedly suspicious.

"They do not approve of magic at all?" Harry suppressed a wince as he saw the same wariness in the eyes of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

"They weren't that bad," he said quickly. "They didn't tell me anything about magic, but they still took me in and everything." None of them looked convinced, but he didn't give them a chance to argue. "Anyway, I went to Hogwarts when I was eleven and there I met Ron and Hermione." He beamed at his best friends, and received two grins back.

Slytherin, however, was not smiling. "And you appear to have been in at least one life-threatening situation every year since."

Harry winced. "It wasn't that bad."

"Really? In your first year alone you encountered a Cerberus and a troll."

"What?" Hufflepuff exclaimed. "In the castle itself?"

Slytherin nodded. "It appears the wards have deteriorated over time." He did not look pleased by the thought.

Ron, too, was frowning. "But Hogwarts is supposed to be one of the most protected buildings in the country," he objected. "You can't Apparate there or anything."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but Ravenclaw shook her head. "That is good to hear, but those wards were unconnected to the ones regarding Dark creatures. No troll should have been allowed to enter the school, let alone a Cerberus."

"Oh. Are there many different types of wards in place then?"

Salazar gave a humourless smile. "Oh yes, very many. More than most other magical buildings combined, in fact. I wrote them," he explained at Harry's questioning look.

"And invented half of them," said Godric. There was an unmistakeable glint of pride in his eyes.

Salazar gave a slight shrug. "I wanted our students to be protected."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Do these wards happen to include interpretive elements?"

"They do indeed," said Slytherin. "Our students come from all over the country and many speak different dialects. We had to find a way to allow them to communicate."

"I see."

Harry glanced at her. "See what?"

Hermione sighed. "Don't you think our language would have changed somewhat in a thousand years? We shouldn't be able to understand each other at all, but these wards must be allowing it."

Ron frowned. "But that doesn't make sense. When the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students came over I could hardly understand what half of them were saying."

"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?"

"Other magical schools," Hermione supplied. "Beauxbatons is in France and Durmstrang is somewhere in northern Europe." She frowned. "Ron's right though. Sometimes it was difficult to understand them."

Slytherin and Ravenclaw looked at each other.

"The damage must be more extensive than we thought," Slytherin muttered. He shook his head. "It was to be the responsibility of future headmasters to ensure that the wards were maintained. What can have happened?"

Harry bristled slightly. "I think they've been a bit preoccupied with stopping Voldemort."

Slytherin scowled. "Dumbledore maybe, but earlier ones... Besides, Hogwarts should have been their first priority."

Gryffindor sighed. "They also have a duty to protect innocents in the rest of the country," he said quietly. "They are only doing what either of us would."

Harry was expecting Slytherin to argue, but the wizard merely inclined his head. "I see your point, and I agree with you, but I cannot be happy about the protections being in such a diminished state." Gryffindor's eyes darkened. "Neither am I, but I can think of someone who would be."

Ravenclaw looked at Harry. "You did say that he was not destroyed."

Harry sighed, but nodded. "Yeah. He's still around."

"And would he have anything to do with the presence of a troll and a Cerberus in our school?"

"Well, yes. Sort of."

"He didn't have anything to do with Fluffy," Ron agreed.

Hufflepuff blinked. "I'm sorry, Fluffy?"

"That was the name of the Cerberus."

Slytherin stared at him. "Who in their right mind would name a Cerberus Fluffy?"

Hermione grimaced. "He belonged to Hagrid, the gamekeeper, and Hagrid doesn't quite see dangerous creatures the way we do."

"Clearly not," Godric muttered. "But that doesn't explain what it was doing in the castle."

Harry hesitated. He could see why they would be so concerned, but he had a feeling some of their actions that year might not be appreciated. Judging by the looks on their faces, Ron and Hermione were having similar thoughts. Hufflepuff noticed their wariness.

"You will not be in trouble," she assured them. "You are not our students and we have no authority over you."

"And we can hardly punish you for events that will not take place for another thousand years," added Gryffindor with a smile.

Harry managed to smile back. "I guess not." He took a deep breath. "Voldemort let the troll in so that he could try to steal a Philosopher's Stone."

The resulting barrage of questions made him realise that that might not have been the best approach.

"What do you mean, he let the troll in?" Slytherin demanded. "To do that, he would have to..." His voice trailed off as his eyes narrowed. "I see."

The others also seemed to have put it together.

"So how exactly did this Dark wizard manage to enter our school and gain influence over the wards?" asked Gryffindor. His tone was light, but his green eyes were like ice and Harry had to fight to hold his gaze.

"He'd possessed one of the teachers," he said.

"And no one noticed?" said Ravenclaw. At their silence, her frown darkened. "This is troubling."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione timidly. "How could anyone have known?"

"Possession leaves traces," Slytherin growled. "A wizard as powerful as Dumbledore should have been able to tell the difference in the magical signature."

Ron blinked. "Magical signature?"

Gryffindor frowned at him. "You have not covered it?"

"I've never heard of it."

"Me neither," said Harry. He glanced at Hermione.

"It was mentioned in one of the seventh year textbooks, I think," she said slowly.

Hufflepuff raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you were fifth years."

A light blush touched Hermione's cheeks. "I read ahead a bit."

"An excellent practice," said Rowena approvingly. Hermione's blush darkened at the praise. Harry saw Gryffindor hide a smile, but Hufflepuff was frowning.

"We would have taught you this by now," she murmured. "Things must have changed a great deal."

"And not for the better if possession of a teacher can go unnoticed for months," Salazar muttered.

Rowena frowned. "You cannot have learned very much that year."

Slytherin stared her. "That's the part you're concerned about?"

"Well, the teacher in question was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Hermione. "We didn't cover nearly as much as we should have."

"I'm not surprised."

Harry scowled. "We did hardly any practical stuff in those classes. Though the rest of our Defence teachers weren't that great either. Apart from Lupin."

"The rest of them?" said Gryffindor. "Exactly how many did you have?"

"Five," Ron answered. "One for each year. The job's supposed to be jinxed."

"And is it?"

"I don't know, but no teacher has lasted longer than a year for decades. Most of them end up dead. If there is a jinx though, nobody's been able to find it."

Hufflepuff's expression turned pensive. "I wonder... Few spells could last that long alone. The person responsible may have tied it into the wards." She shot a questioning look at Slytherin, who shrugged.

"It is possible. I would have to examine them to be sure."

Gryffindor shook his head. "Of all the positions to be cursed... Have you learned anything useful?"

"Our teacher in third year was brilliant," Harry insisted. "And we learned a lot in fourth year too."

"Yeah, before he tried to kill you," Ron muttered. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quiet enough.

"What did you say?" Slytherin hissed. His face had gone ashen again.

Harry spared a brief glare for Ron before turning to face him. "Er, it turned out he was a Death Eater impersonating the real teacher," he explained. "He tried to kill me, but Dumbledore got there first."

"He never should have had to. Does he not keep an eye on the people he hires?"

"Sometimes?"

Hufflepuff pinched the bridge of her nose. "So so far, two of your teachers have been aligned with Voldemort. I sincerely hope the others were better." She looked rather apprehensive about the answer.

"Well, Lockhart was," said Ron.

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow. "Excellent."

"Of course he turned out to be a fraud and tried to erase our memories."

Harry jumped as the fire in the grate roared up. "He did what?" Gryffindor roared. The Founder was on his feet and his face was flushed with rage.

"Godric," said Rowena sharply. Godric glanced at her, and something seemed to pass between them. The fire returned to its previous size.

"Harry, look at Slytherin," Hermione whispered.

Harry followed her gaze and felt a jolt of surprise. Slytherin's face was bone grey, and though his eyes were fixed on the flames, Harry got the feeling he wasn't seeing them at all. Harry shivered. The loss and pain in his eyes was almost familiar. Then Gryffindor cleared his throat and the moment was broken. All emotion disappeared from Slytherin's face so fast Harry wondered if he had imagined it, but a look at Hufflepuff reassured him. She too was staring at Slytherin, and there was no mistaking the concern in her face. There was definitely something wrong. Confused, and more than a little curious, Harry turned back to Gryffindor. The Founder sighed and moved back to his seat.

"My apologies," he said to them.

Ron's mouth was hanging open. "What the hell just happened?"

Gryffindor gave a self-deprecating shrug. "I have an affinity for fire magic." His eyes darkened. "But that is beside the point. Your teachers are there to protect you, not try to kill or maim you. What has happened to our school?"

Harry saw that the others looked no less furious, and resolved never to mention Umbridge in their presence. Ron and Hermione had clearly had the same thought, for both were staring fixedly at the floor. Hufflepuff glanced at them and sighed.

"We are sorry. We know you are not to blame for all this."

"Certainly not," Ravenclaw agreed. "It is merely difficult to hear about the standard of teaching dropping so low."

"Especially in that subject," Gryffindor growled. "You have to be able to defend yourselves."

"Indeed, particularly if Voldemort is still free," said Slytherin. "I assume, based on his efforts to acquire the Philosopher's Stone, that he is searching for a way to regain a physical form."

Harry's jaw tightened. "Not anymore."

Godric's eyes narrowed. "You mean he got to it?"

"Oh no, we stopped him before that, but-"

"You did what?"

Harry froze. "Er..."

"Harry..."

"We didn't have a choice!"

"You were in a school," Slytherin hissed. "Why did you not inform a teacher instead of confronting Voldemort of all people by yourselves?"

Harry glared right back. "We did, but they didn't believe us."

"We weren't really supposed to know about the Stone," Hermione added quietly. "We didn't think they'd approve."

"So instead you tried to stop him yourselves," Rowena summarised. "Do you not see how reckless that was?"

Harry shifted in his seat. "Well yeah, but we couldn't let Voldemort get his hands on it."

"What makes you think he would have?" asked Helga. "Surely there would be more than a Cerberus to protect something that valuable."

"There was, but we thought they wouldn't be enough," said Ron.

Slytherin stared at them. "And you thought the three of you would be? You were lucky not to be killed."

Harry opened his mouth to argue then closed it again. That was true enough. Ron's gaze dropped to the floor.

Gryffindor sighed. "It is done now." He shook his head. "I have to ask, how were you able to stop him?"

Harry shrugged. "Apparently when Mum died, it left some protection. Voldemort couldn't touch me."

Slytherin frowned. "But that would only protect you from physical assault. He would still be able to curse you."

"Yeah, but he wasn't thinking too clearly at the time."

Slytherin nodded, clearly remembering the memories he had seen. "Very fortunate for you." He frowned. "But if he never obtained the Stone, how did he regain a body?"

Harry stiffened as memories of the graveyard flashed across his mind. With an effort he forced the images away.

"He did some sort of ritual. Now he's back."

Hufflepuff's eyes narrowed. "How exactly do you know that?"

Slytherin's gaze locked on his. "In the graveyard? That was him?"

"Graveyard?" Ravenclaw exclaimed, but Harry just nodded. He couldn't dwell on those images. Next to him, Ron stiffened.

"Yeah. That was last year and Harry was there," he said firmly. "That's all you need to know."

Harry gaped at him, but Gryffindor just nodded. "Very well." He glanced at Harry, who was shocked to see the ghost of a smile on his face. "You have a good friend there."

Harry smiled back. "I know."

Ron's ears blazed red and he stared at the floor. "Well it's not that important."

Slytherin looked like he wanted to disagree, but for some reason he instead allowed Helga to change the subject. "And now that he has regained a body, is he continuing his campaign against Muggles and Muggle-borns?"

Harry grimaced. "He's building up his strength at the moment, but Dumbledore reckons he'll start soon." His scowl darkened. "It doesn't help that the Ministry is refusing to believe he's back."

"Ministry?" asked Ravenclaw.

"The Ministry of Magic is the wizarding governing body," Hermione explained. "Unfortunately, most of them are too scared to even admit the possibility of Harry telling the truth."

"That is no way to lead," Gryffindor growled. "They are only giving Voldemort time to plan." He shook his head. "Is anyone fighting back?"

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore started the Order of the Phoenix again. There aren't very many of them though."

"Are you members?" asked Hufflepuff.

Harry scowled. "They think we're too young." He didn't even try to hide his resentment.

Helga frowned, but Hermione beat her to it, "Harry, you know they're only trying to protect us."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out."

"He has a point," said Ron. "If they'd told us what was going on, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"What do you mean?" asked Gryffindor.

Harry fell silent. Their situation had distracted him from his mistake, but at Ron's words it all came rushing back. It was his fault they were stuck here. He should have known better. He looked down, unable to face them.

"I had a vision that someone was in trouble," he said quietly. "It's happened before so I didn't question it." He took a deep breath. "It turned out to be a trap. Voldemort knew I'd go rushing there."

Hermione reached round to lay hand on his arm. "It wasn't your fault," she began, but Harry shook his head.

"Yes it was. I should have been trying to keep him out." He closed his eyes. "And now we're here."

"And Ginny's still there," said Ron quietly.

Slytherin glanced at him. "Ginny?"

"My little sister. She and two of our friends came with us." He swallowed. "I hope they're all right."

Ravenclaw frowned. "How is that they were not sent back too?"

"They weren't with us," said Hermione. "We got separated when the Death Eaters started chasing us."

Harry's guilt redoubled. If anything were to happen to Ginny, or Neville or Luna...

"They will be all right," said Gryffindor softly.

Harry stared at him. "There were a dozen Death Eaters! None of them are good enough to fight them yet!" He abruptly remembered who he was talking to and fell silent, but Gryffindor just sighed.

"Maybe, but will it do them any good to spend your time obsessing over it? It is done now. All we can do is try to make the best of it."

Harry just looked away. It might not do any good, but he knew he wouldn't be able to take the Founder's advice. Ron's ashen face told him he was of the same opinion, but Hermione's eyes had widened.

"Of course."

"What?" Harry grunted. He wasn't in the mood for cryptic guessing games. Hermione didn't help by turning to Ravenclaw.

"It doesn't matter how long we spend here does it?"

Ravenclaw frowned. "In theory no." She cast an appraising look at the young witch. "It has potential. We shall have to see if it can be applied in practise."

Slytherin nodded slowly. "It will take a great deal of work," he warned.

"No more than before," Ravenclaw pointed out.

Harry blinked. Apparently he'd missed something. Gryffindor smiled.

"You're doing it again, Ro."

Ravenclaw glanced at him. "My apologies." She turned to Harry. "You are already far in the past, so far that a matter of weeks will make very little difference. We may be able to send you back to the precise moment you left, or close to it."

Harry stared at her, then Hermione. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "It's all theoretical of course," she said. "No one has ever travelled this far back before. But if it works..."

They could get back. They could return in time to get Neville and the others to safety. The thought was enough to make his head spin.

"Yeah." He hesitated a moment, but he had to know. "Do you think you'll be able to do it?" He heard Ron's sharp intake of breath next to him, but kept his eyes fixed on the four Founders.

Gryffindor sighed. "We will do our best, but time travel has never been achieved before," he said gently. "It may take some time."

"And in the meantime, we're stuck here." He shook his head. "We have to get back!"

Helga's eyes filled with sympathy. "We know. Rest assured, we will do everything in our power to get you home."

Harry looked at her. Her face held nothing but concern for them, and he immediately felt ashamed of his outburst.

"Thank you. I'm sorry; it's just all this..." He trailed off hopelessly.

"We understand," said Gryffindor. "Your situation is hardly typical."

Ron attempted a smile. "What else is new?"

Hermione looked round at them. "What should we do while we're here?" she asked tentatively. "We can't risk doing anything that might upset the timeline."

Ravenclaw nodded. "Your actions could have unforeseeable consequences," she agreed. "We will have to be careful."

"But we can't just sit around doing nothing," said Ron. "Who knows how long we'll be here?"

Slytherin stirred at that. "If I may, I have a proposition for you."

Gryffindor glanced at him, eyes narrowing. "What are you planning?" Harry looked at him, but he sounded more amused than worried. Slytherin smirked at him, but his grin faded as he turned to Harry.

"It is safe to assume, I think, that Voldemort will continue his attempts to kill you when you return?"

Harry grimaced. "Almost definitely."

Slytherin nodded. "And since your Defence tutors have been less than satisfactory," he eyes glinted at the reminder, "I propose we take the opportunity to prepare for it."

Harry gaped at him. If he was saying what Harry thought he was...

"You mean you'd teach us how to fight?" Ron exclaimed.

Slytherin inclined his head. "If you wish. I expect there will be differences in spells and technique, but the experience may prove useful."

Useful? Harry was well aware that he had only survived as long as he had because of a healthy dose of good luck. To have someone teach him to fight, even if it were the last person he would have expected, would be more than useful, it would be invaluable.

"When can we start?"

Surprise flickered briefly in Slytherin's eyes. "Do you not wish to take more time to think about it?"

Harry met his eyes without flinching. "Voldemort's going to come after me no matter what I do," he said. "I have to be ready for him, and right now, I'm not. I need to learn." He glanced at the other Founders, suddenly aware that they had yet to speak. "If that's all right?"

Godric smiled. "I think it is an excellent idea." His smile faded slightly. "It will not be easy. We do not know how much time we will have, and we will be working with completely unfamiliar magic. It will be hard work."

"I don't care. I have to learn how to beat him."

Ron and Hermione shared a brief look, then Ron turned to Gryffindor.

"We need to learn too." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ron didn't give him the chance. "Mate, the DA was good, but those Death Eaters were better. We need to improve."

"He's right," said Hermione. "We need more experience if we're to stand a chance next time."

Harry stared at them. "There's not going to be a next time! This is my fight, and I can't let you two get yourselves hurt." Cedric's face flashed before his eyes, but Ron glared right back.

"Your fight? This has been our fight since first year. We're not letting you do this all on your own."

"It's too dangerous," Harry snapped. "Look at us; we're trapped a thousand years in the past because of me! What if it's worse next time?"

"And what if it's worse without us?" Hermione asked. "Harry, it was our choice to come, just like it was all these years. And we'd make the same choices again."

"Every one of them," said Ron. "Face it mate, you're stuck with us." His eyes gleamed suddenly. "Whatever happens we're going to be there. And if we know how to fight, we'll stand a much better chance."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but the pure determination in their eyes made him pause. Neither of them were going to back down, and to his surprise, he felt his chest tighten at the thought. After all the trouble he had caused, all the danger he had led them into, they still wanted to fight with him. And as much as he couldn't bear the thought of either of them getting hurt, he couldn't deny that he needed them. He turned back to the watching Founders.

"So, can we all learn?"

Godric's face split into a wide smile. "Certainly." He looked at Ron and Hermione. "That was very well said."

Ron's ears blazed pink, but he managed to shrug. "It's true. He needs us, and we couldn't just let him go off alone. That doesn't tend to go well."

Harry winced. That was true enough.

"Besides, it's an incredible opportunity," said Hermione. "Think how much we're going to learn."

Ravenclaw smiled at her enthusiasm. "We will do our best." Her eyes gleamed. "And I am sure there will be a great deal we can learn from you too." Gryffindor and Hufflepuff both looked like they were struggling to suppress smiles at that, and Harry thought he saw even Slytherin's lips twitch slightly.

"It is settled then," he said. "We shall teach you to duel, and possibly some other areas of magic." He smiled. "You have excellent timing. The majority of our students returned to their families this morning so we shall have some time."

"We shall have to take care the remaining students do not learn of your origins," said Hufflepuff. "The news might cause some attention."

Harry shuddered at the thought. "So how will you explain us?"

"We can say that you are new students who have arranged to move in early," said Gryffindor. "It is not uncommon, and should not raise too much attention." He paused and glanced at Rowena. "Helena might suspect."

Rowena shook her head. "She knows I do not usually discuss the arrival of new students with her."

"Who is Helena?" asked Hermione.

"My daughter. She will soon be starting her final year here." She frowned slightly. "She will probably interact with you more than the others. Will you be able to keep her from discovering your original time period?"

"We won't say anything," Harry promised. "We don't know very much about this time though."

"We will help you," said Godric. He gave a wry smile. "This whole situation is going to take some getting used to."

Harry nodded, but his reply was cut off as an enormous yawn wracked his body. That set off Ron and Hermione, and he felt his cheeks burn.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "It has been a long day."

"Perfectly understandable," said Helga gently. "I think it might be best if we left it at that for the evening. It has been a long day."

"Excellent idea," Rowena agreed.

Harry thought about arguing, but found himself struggling to suppress another yawn. "Thanks," he managed. A thought struck him. "Where shall we sleep?"

The Founders looked at each other.

"Which houses are you in?" asked Slytherin.

"All Gryffindors," said Ron proudly.

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Indeed?"

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink. "The Sorting Hat did consider Ravenclaw, but it decided on Gryffindor in the end."

Godric smiled. "I am glad to hear it."

Harry kept quiet. He didn't think his own experience with the Sorting hat would be so well received. Slytherin shot him a curious look, but didn't question it.

"I do not think it would be wise for you to stay in the student dormitories, at least for the moment," he said instead. "A few Gryffindors did remain, and it might be difficult for you to pretend you are from this time under close scrutiny."

"Yeah, I see what you mean," said Harry. "So what should we do?"

"There are some guest rooms that are free," said Helga. "You are more than welcome to use those for the time being."

Godric nodded. "We can arrange something more permanent when we know more about your situation."

Harry didn't even try to hold back his yawn this time. "Sounds good to me."

Helga smiled and got to her feet. "Come, I will show you where to go." She glanced at her friends. "I will return in a few minutes." Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought her gaze rested rather pointedly on Slytherin for a minute before moving back to him.

A grin touched Gryffindor's lips. "We will be here," he assured her. "All of us." Slytherin rolled his eyes, but did not argue.

Ravenclaw turned to Harry. "We will need to assess your abilities in order to see how to best teach you. Would tomorrow morning be sufficient, or will you require more time to recover?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Er, I think we'll be fine."

Gryffindor nodded. "Excellent. We had better make the most of our time." His gaze softened slightly. "This situation is not desirable, but we hope you enjoy your time here."

Harry smiled back. "Thank you."

"We appreciate your hospitality," Ron added. "All three of us are in your debt."

Harry shot him a curious look, but Gryffindor nodded approvingly. "It is our pleasure."

Slytherin nodded at the three of them. "Get some rest. We will have a busy day ahead of us." His gaze lingered on Harry's for a moment. "Sleep well."

Harry just nodded. While he was glad Slytherin hadn't mentioned his most painful memories, he knew that he hadn't forgotten them. Sooner or later, he would demand an explanation He shook himself. For now, the privacy was welcome.

"Thank you." He looked round at the others. "Good night." Hermione and Ron said their own farewells before following Helga out the room.

Harry found himself struggling to stay wake as they followed the witch down the corridor. The stress of the past hour, not to mention that of their time in the future, was beginning to take its toll. Next to him, he saw Ron stumble slightly as they headed down a flight of stairs, and knew he wasn't the only one. Hufflepuff glanced back at them, the concern clear in her blue eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked gently.

Harry nodded. "We'll be fine. Just a bit tired."

"Understatement," Ron muttered. Hermione was too busy suppressing a yawn to comment.

Helga smiled sympathetically. "I am not surprised. You have had quite an eventful day."

"You don't know the half of it," Harry mumbled.

Helga sighed, her smile fading. "Apparently not." She paused and held his gaze. "You are more than welcome to come and talk about it if you think it will help," she said quietly. "Any of us will be happy to listen."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

"You are welcome." She sighed again. "This situation is beyond anything we ever expected, but we will do everything we can to help. If you ever need anything, just let one of us know."

Harry smiled. In a way, she reminded him of Mrs Weasley; just being near her was enough to help him relax. If he had to talk to someone, he could think of worse people.

"Thanks."

Helga's smile returned and she started moving again. "Come. It is not much further."

"Thank goodness for that," Ron muttered. Hermione shot him a half-hearted glare, but she was too tired to argue. Harry hid a smile and followed.

Fortunately, Helga had been telling the truth. A few minutes later, they turned down a small corridor with a number of rooms coming off it. Helga came to a stop outside the first door.

"All these are guest rooms and are currently unoccupied," she told them. "You are welcome to take whichever you wish. Each contains a change of clothes, and the house-elves will be happy to take care of any other problems you may have."

"Thank you," said Harry gratefully. The thought of any bed was wonderful. Hermione's eyes narrowed at the mention of house-elves, but she clearly recognised that this was not the time for a discussion on elf rights. All Harry wanted to do was get some sleep.

Helga seemed to sense his eagerness. "Then I will leave you to it. Feel free to sleep as long as you need tomorrow; we do not want you to exhaust yourselves."

"We won't," said Ron with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We also don't want to waste time." She looked at Helga. "We'll all be up early." She hesitated a moment, ignoring Ron's dismay. "Do you know what sort of tests there will be?"

"They will not be anything to worry about," Helga assured her. "We merely wish to see what sort of spells you are accustomed to so that we know what to teach you. There will not be anything too challenging."

Harry felt a surge of relief at that. They had just finished O.W.L.s after all. Helga smiled at them.

"Well, I shall leave you to get some rest. If you need anything, you only have to ask."

"Thank you," Harry and Ron chorused.

"Good night," said Hermione quietly.

"Good night, my dears." With a final reassuring smile, Helga departed back up the corridor.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. "Shall we get sorted then talk about this?"

Ron nodded. "Works for me." He covered a yawn with one hand. "Anyone care which room they get?"

"I think they'll all be the same," said Hermione. She too was struggling to contain her weariness, but the need to discuss everything that was happening was more important.

Harry nodded and started moving towards the next door. "See you in a minute."

A wash and change revived him a bit, though the long nightgown would take some getting used to. Really though, Harry was just glad of the chance to finally gather his thoughts. Physically, he was exhausted; the flight from Hogwarts and the battle in the Ministry, not to mention their unanticipated trip, had left him completely drained, but his mind was wide awake and buzzing with questions. He still couldn't quite believe what had happened. Only that morning he had been taking a History exam, but he was now stranded a thousand years in the past with the Founders of Hogwarts. It seemed impossible. Harry grimaced and put his head in his hands. He had begun to think that he was used to magic doing the inexplicable, but he had never imagined being stuck in the past, with no way back and no way to contact anybody. A shiver ran through his body. For once, he had no idea what to do.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Wearily, he raised his head.

"Yes?"

The door opened, and Ron's bright red hair appeared in the gap. "All right if we come in?"

Harry nodded, and Ron pushed the door open wider. "Was everything okay for you?"

Ron shrugged as he held the door for Hermione. "Yeah. Wish they'd hurry up and invent pyjamas though."

Hermione smiled. "I like them."

"Of course you do, you're a girl." He shut the door and took the chair by the bed. Hermione perched on the end of the bed next to Harry.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I'm fine."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Really?"

Harry scowled at him. "Well what do you want me to say?"

"The truth would be nice." After a moment, he added quietly, "If it helps, I'm bloody terrified."

Harry stared at him. "What?"

Ron shuffled his feet. "You've got to admit, this isn't one of the better situations we've found ourselves in."

Hermione gave a soft snort. "You could put it that way."

Harry's anger dissipated as quickly as it had come and he sighed. "Kind of puts the O.W.L.s into perspective, doesn't it?"

It was Hermione who voiced the question that was on everyone's mind. "Do you think they'll find a way to get us back home?"

Harry attempted a smile. "I think if anyone can, it's them."

"But what if they can't? What if we're stuck here?" To Harry's horror, her brown eyes were filling with tears. "They'll never know what happened to us."

Harry put a tentative arm round her shoulders. "We can't think like that. They will send us back, you'll see."

Ron nodded. "They can do stuff we can barely imagine. Just look at this place if you want proof. They'll think of something."

Hermione gave a watery smile and sniffed. "Maybe. I'm sorry. It's just…" Another tear rolled down her cheek.

Ron hesitated a moment, then leaned over and patted her arm. "It's all right," he murmured. "We understand." He swallowed rather hard and glanced away. "I really hope Ginny and the others are all right."

Harry looked down. Their friends' fates had been weighing on his mind too. "They will be. They have to be." He gave a shaky sigh. "We'll get back, and get them out of there."

Ron nodded. "And if they do train us, the Death Eaters won't know what's hit them."

Hermione brightened slightly at that. "We will certainly have the element of surprise." She shook her head. "I can't believe we're going to be studying under them. The things we can learn..."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Only you would get this excited about extra studying."

"You were just as excited when Professor Gryffindor said he'd teach us how to fight," she shot back.

"What do you expect, it's Godric Gryffindor! He's one of the greatest duellists of all time."

"I'm more surprised that Slytherin was the one to suggest it," said Harry.

Ron shook his head. "That was definitely unexpected." He hesitated a moment. "You know, he's nothing like I thought he would be."

"Me neither," Harry agreed. "I actually think I could get to like him."

Hermione frowned. "I agree, he is not what I expected, but he still seems to think that wizards are superior to Muggles."

"But he hasn't said that. He said that he doesn't trust them, and from what Gryffindor was saying earlier, I'm not sure I blame him."

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe, but it's so strange. How could Voldemort and other Slytherins have gotten it so wrong?"

Harry scowled. "Voldemort's a nutter, remember? He'd say anything to justify his own hatred. Besides, the other Founders trust Slytherin. They even know about the Chamber."

Hermione still didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue. "I suppose we'll find out tomorrow."

Ron groaned. "Yeah, after all these tests."

"Professor Hufflepuff said they wouldn't be that difficult."

"Yeah, but I think they're standard of 'difficult' might be a bit different from ours."

"It's worth it," said Harry firmly. "If we can learn this, we might finally stand a chance against them."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, even with all this training, do you really think we'll be good enough to defeat Voldemort? He's one of the most powerful Dark lords of all time."

"Well what do you suggest I do Hermione, give up? No chance." He shook his head. "I've been lucky so far, but look at how bad things were going in the Ministry. We couldn't have beaten them. At least this way we'll be able to fight back."

Ron sighed. "Maybe, but she does have a point. We're not Dumbledore; we can't go up against Voldemort."

Harry glared at them. "Look, I know I'm not good enough to stop him, but at least this gives us a chance. That's more than we've ever had before." He sighed, anger draining away. "Besides, if we can't get back it's all completely irrelevant."

"We will," said Ron firmly. "I know we will."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Turning into a Seer, are we Ron?"

Ron scowled at her. "Don't be ridiculous. I meant that these are some of the greatest witches and wizards in history and they've promised to help us. They'll get us home. I'm sure of it."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Godric let out a long sigh as the door closed behind the three young people.

"Well, this is different."

Rowena shook her head. "Time travel... I didn't think it was possible."

Godric's lips twitched into a smile. "I thought there were no limits to magic."

"Stop it." She glanced at Salazar. "There's no way they could have been deceiving us?"

Salazar glanced up, momentarily startled from his own thoughts. "They were telling the truth. No child could have fabricated the memories I saw." Not only for the level of skill that would be required, but the content... No normal child could have fabricated that. He couldn't suppress a shiver. All three of them had been through far too much.

"Salazar?"

Salazar glanced up to find Godric studying him. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

Salazar had to fight the urge to laugh. "All right? I've just found out that everyone in the future thinks I'm a monster. Why would I not be all right?" Godric just looked at him and he sighed. "My apologies."

Godric's gaze softened. "I cannot say I blame you." He glanced away. "I would probably react the same way."

"You don't have to." He sat back with a sigh. "What can have happened?"

"In a thousand years, almost anything," said Rowena quietly. "I'm so sorry Sal."

Salazar didn't reply. What was there to say? His leg throbbed angrily and he had to fight to hold back a hiss of pain. The last thing he needed was one of them telling Helga that he was in difficulties. Fortunately, Godric's mind was on other things.

"At least Harry and the others believe you."

Salazar shrugged. "So they say. They still don't trust me."

"Can you blame them? They've been sent to the past and forced to discuss their lives with four complete strangers. I would be more concerned if they did trust us."

"Agreed." He shook his head. "It sounds like they have quite enough trouble to deal with."

Godric's expression darkened. "Another Dark lord... I had hoped that in a thousand years we would have learned better."

"Don't hold your breath," Salazar muttered.

Rowena frowned at him. "There is nothing wrong with hoping." She sighed. "In any case, there is little we can do about it."

Godric automatically tried to lift her spirits. "Maybe, but I expect there have been a great may other changes."

Rowena smiled at that. "I know. Imagine the innovations that can have occurred." Salazar nodded. Even in his current mood, he could not deny that the thought was intriguing.

Godric just smiled. "Why don't we focus on teaching them before satisfying our own curiosity?" he suggested. "We cannot afford to waste time." His smile faded slightly. "Assuming we are able to help them return."

"We can but try," said Rowena. "I want to look through some of my books; there may be some theories that we can adapt."

Salazar nodded. "And if there is anything we can do, just let us know. I doubt they will want to spend more time here than they have to."

At that point, the door swung open as Helga returned. Salazar immediately strengthened his shields. Helga would never pry deliberately, but her senses were so powerful that often she could not help picking up strong emotions, and he knew that he had raised her concern earlier. Sure enough, Helga's gaze went immediately to him.

"How are you feeling?"

Salazar frowned. "Fine." She looked at him and he sighed. "A slight headache." Legilimency was difficult at the best of time, and the intensity of their visitors' memories had not made it any easier.

"Define 'slight,'" said Rowena dryly.

Salazar scowled at him. "It is nothing to be concerned about."

"What about your leg?"

"Helga, it's fine." That definition was pushing it a little too, but he wasn't in the mood for any more fussing. Godric held his gaze for a moment, and then turned to Helga.

"How are our young guests?"

Salazar shot him a grateful smile as Helga's attention was immediately diverted. "About as well as you'd expect; drained, wary and far more nervous about this situation than any of them are willing to admit." She took her seat with a sigh. "I cannot say I'm surprised."

"I would be quite concerned if they weren't," Godric agreed. His expression darkened. "Although from the sounds of it, this is not the first time they have found themselves in trouble."

Salazar grimaced. "That would be an understatement." It hadn't escaped his notice that the trio had mentioned only a handful of their exploits, and he wasn't foolish enough to think that his friends would have missed their reticence. So it was with a complete lack of surprise that he found Rowena studying him.

"It seems there was rather more to their tale than they told us."

Salazar shrugged; he couldn't betray their confidence by saying what he knew and they all knew it. "We cannot blame them for that." He sighed. "Besides, if what I say is any indication, if they were to tell us the whole story we would be here for days."

"Was it really that bad?" asked Godric quietly.

Salazar's jaw tightened as the memories filled his mind. "They have been through more than many twice their age," he said softly. "And Harry, as much again. Truly, he is lucky to be alive." He looked round at them. "He was not lying when he said that Voldemort would keep trying. The man is a monster, and he does not care how many must die to achieve his aims."

Godric nodded. "Then it is even more imperative that they learn to defend themselves."

"Especially if their Defence tutors have been as incompetent as they say," Rowena agreed.

Godric scowled. "Attempting to kill our students goes a little beyond incompetence."

"Indeed." Her eyes narrowed. "Though this only adds to the questions regarding Headmaster Dumbledore's leadership."

Salazar's gritted his teeth. Dumbledore's handling of Harry's situation did leave much to be desired. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about that.

"At least we have an opportunity to rectify the situation," he murmured.

Godric nodded. "We will have the time for it." He gave a rueful smile. "Though it seems this holiday will not be quite as relaxing as expected."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Considering that the last time we had a relaxing holiday you were bored after two days, that may not be such a bad thing."

"You were just as bad."

"Maybe, but I did not try to relieve my boredom by going dragon hunting."

Godric scowled. "I would have been fine."

"Really? Just like you were the first time?"

"Why do you always bring that up?"

"Because it always proves my point."

Helga interrupted the bickering with the ease of long practice. "Well, at least we can be fairly sure that neither of you will be bored this time."

Rowena nodded. "Agreed." Her lips twitched into a smile. "I believe the next few weeks will be very interesting indeed."

Chapter 3: Things Past and Things Yet to Come

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Salazar Slytherin could not help but smile as he strolled through the corridors of Hogwarts. It was a perfect day. The afternoon sun shone through the windows, bathing the familiar corridors in a soft golden light and the sky outside was completely free of clouds. Even his leg was relatively free of pain. His typical severe expression softened as he paused to watch the students enjoying the sunshine below. Something stirred at the back of his mind, but he squashed it. Nothing could go wrong today.

Almost absent-mindedly, he scanned the gathered students. Most of them were fairly well behaved, but they did have their fair portion of mischief makers, and it never hurt to be prepared. Today though, everything seemed perfectly peaceful. No one was screaming at any rate. If only that niggling feeling that something was wrong would go away. Salazar shook his head firmly. What was going to go wrong? Students of all houses and ages were out and everyone was happy. He could see two of Godric's Lions trying to convince one of the Ravenclaws of something, and he rolled his eyes. One of the first things Rowena taught her students was to be very wary of anything a Gryffindor or Slytherin tried to convince them to do. The watching crowd of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were making no attempt to hide their amusement as the Gryffindors' efforts went unrewarded.

Salazar's eyes narrowed slightly as he finally realised what his instincts had been trying to tell him. There were no Slytherins in the little group. He scanned the grounds again. Not a single Slytherin was to be seen. Confused, Salazar turned from the view and resumed his journey. His Snakes might not be as adventurous as the Gryffindors, but they certainly weren't likely to pass up a day like this.

By the time he reached the Entrance Hall, Salazar's unease had morphed into true concern. Though he had passed several students on his way down, not one of them had been a member of his house. That had inspired him to tap into the wards, where an alarming truth had emerged: there wasn't a single Slytherin present within the walls or grounds of Hogwarts. Something had happened to them, and Salazar could only hope that his fellow Founders had the answer.

His concern faded slightly at the sight of Godric, Helga and Rowena talking quite amiably in their seats at the High Table. None of them looked particularly worried, and he almost allowed himself to relax. Even if they didn't have an explanation, they were sure to be able to help. He ignored the part of his mind that was still screaming that there was something strange about this situation as he made his way towards them.

Godric was the first to notice him.

"Salazar? Is everything all right?"

Salazar shook his head. "Not exactly. Do any of you have an explanation as to why all of my students have disappeared?"

Godric's smile faded and he sat upright. "What are you talking about?" Helga and Rowena exchanged unreadable glances.

"All the Slytherins are gone, and I have no idea where or why."

"I wonder how that could have happened."

Salazar's eyes narrowed. The feeling of unease was growing stronger, and he hadn't missed the look that had passed between the two witches. "As do I, but we can worry about that later. I need your help to find them."

"Of course."

Salazar nodded, but his momentary relief dissipated when Godric made no movement towards getting up. "Are you planning to help by sitting in that chair?"

A thin smirk, quite different from his usual grin spread across Godric's face. "There's no hurry. I'm sure they're not in any immediate danger."

Salazar stared at him. "What is the matter with you? A quarter of our students have disappeared, yet you're sitting there as if nothing was wrong!"

Godric opened his mouth to argue, but Rowena interrupted.

"Oh, just tell him. You know he'll just keep pestering you otherwise."

Salazar swallowed, certain now that something was very, very wrong. Rowena had not used that particular tone with him for decades, and Godric was acting as if he barely knew him. Even Helga was studying him with no more than mild curiosity.

"What is going on?" he whispered. "Where are my students?"

Godric sighed. "We were going to tell you eventually."

"Tell me now!"

The false smile returned. "They are back with their families."

He must have misheard. "What?"

"We sent them home."

Salazar froze. "You did what?"

Helga smiled at him, but her expression held none of its usual warmth. "We returned them to their homes."

"After removing their memories," Rowena added.

Salazar stared at her. "What?"

Rowena's lip curled. "We could not run the risk of them misusing their knowledge." Her sneer deepened. "Especially considering their teacher."

"What are you talking about?"

Helga shook her head. "Come Salazar, we all knew you would not be able to keep your secrets safe."

Salazar tensed. If she meant what he thought she did... "Explain yourselves."

Godric stirred in his seat. "Enough is enough, Salazar. We may have tolerated your studies in the past, but now that you have begun corrupting our students-"

"I have done no such thing! You of all people must know that." Desperately, he looked to Helga and Rowena, but their faces were equally implacable.

Godric sighed. "I am sorry, Salazar, but this is the end." The complete lack of emotion in his face was almost as unnerving as his words. Almost.

"What do you mean?" Godric didn't reply, and Salazar felt his stomach clench. "Godric, what is going on?"

Helga looked at him. "You must have known it was only a matter of time. Maybe if it were just the matter of your studies then things would be different, but when we add your prejudices..." Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

Salazar's knuckles cracked around his staff. "You know my reasons," he hissed. "And you also know that I would never encourage it in our students."

"Be that as it may, you have never been able to completely hide it, and we cannot afford to take the risk."

Salazar searched her face, but her blue eyes held nothing but contempt. "You cannot mean this. After all this time, after everything that has happened-"

"The decision has been made," Rowena interrupted. "It is not open for discussion."

Godric nodded. "We thank you for your contribution, but this is it. Farewell, Salazar Slytherin."

This could not be happening. "And what am I supposed to do now?"

Helga smiled and it was the smile of a stranger. "Go home."

"You know that I can't."

Helga's gaze moved past him. "But you never left."

Salazar whirled round and froze. No longer was he standing in Hogwarts, or even in Alba. His first thought was relief, but a moment later his surroundings sunk in and he immediately realised his mistake. As if echoing his apprehension, the sunny afternoon had turned dark and stormy. Then the scent of smoke reached his nostrils and dread coalesced into pure terror. Salazar didn't even try to suppress a shiver. Anything, even the presence of those he had called friends would be better than this. This was one nightmare he would never escape.

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Godric was roused from a deep slumber by an urgent voice sounding in his mind.

"Godric, you must go to Salazar!"

The warrior came fully awake at that, and he was out of bed almost before the castle had finished. "A nightmare?"

"The nightmare."

Godric swore and ran for the door. "I thought he had Dream-Catchers up. What happened?"

"They failed some time ago."

"Damn."

"Hurry." The presence faded from his mind, but Godric's worry had already redoubled. It had been a long time since Salazar had had that dream. He had hoped he would never have to experience it again. Godric sighed. Their visitors must have affected his friend more badly than he had been willing to admit for his composure to be that damaged. The consequences were not going to be pleasant.

Godric did not even consider the possibility of walking. His quarters were at the top of Gryffindor Tower and Salazar's down in the dungeons, and while he enjoyed exercise, this was not the time. Fortunately, there was an alternative. Closing his eyes, he connected to the wards and willed himself to the lower levels. When he opened them, he was standing at the top of the stairs that led down to the Slytherin Common Room and Salazar's chambers.

It had been Helga who had thought of that particular addition. They had agreed from the start that it would be unwise to allow Apparition within the castle grounds, but the school was so large that it was only practical to have an alternative. The technique depended on being able to access the wards and on Hogwarts' goodwill, but with it they were able to reach any part of the castle in seconds. The only places they could not access were each other's private quarters.

Godric was not surprised to find that the door was locked, or that Salazar refused to respond to his call, but it did not stop him from muttering a curse. The complexity of the surrounding wards was daunting; Rowena might have been able to unravel them given time, but Godric went for the simpler option. A quick exchange with Hogwarts resulted in the door springing open. Setting his teeth, Godric stepped forwards into a scene of pure chaos

Godric was well aware that accidental magic could be destructive, but Salazar's power never failed to unnerve him. The storm that was currently raging through his quarters would have drained anyone else, and he had to anchor himself with magic to keep from being forced backwards. Or from imitating most of Salazar's possessions and flying in every direction. A heavy book shot past him and Godric instinctively raised a shield. Getting a concussion now would not help matters. Grimly, he began to battle his way down the short passage that led to Salazar's sleeping chambers

The magic in the room was almost tangible when he pushed open the door, and Godric was suddenly very glad for his friend's caution. Had his quarters been any higher up, Salazar would have stirred a storm by now. His jaw tightened as he looked over to the figure on the bed. His face was bone grey and he was thrashing so violently that Godric was amazed he hadn't hurt himself. It was difficult to hear anything over the roar of the wind, but there was no mistaking the agony on his face. Godric swallowed. Part of him wanted to call Helga, but he knew that Salazar would kill him. He hated being seen in this condition. Godric set his teeth. He could understand his friend's pride, but that certainly didn't mean he had to approve of it.

It was harder to move now; Salazar's magic was acting instinctively to keep all potential threats away, but Godric had no intention of letting that stop him. He flinched as the wind stuck him at full force, but he stood firm and allowed his own magic to rise to the surface. A moment later, the wild magic recognised him and relaxed slightly, but when Godric tried to move forwards again, he was stopped in his tracks by a low hiss.

"Zith."

The small snake had wrapped herself round the bedpost next to Salazar's head and showed no intention of moving. Godric froze immediately. Zith knew him to be a friend, but with her master so distraught there was no telling what she might do, and her venom was fast acting and lethal. He was very careful to keep his voice low and reassuring when he spoke.

"Zith, I know you're upset, but you have to let me pass. I can help him." Zith's tongue flickered out and he had to fight to keep from flinching, but he forced himself to hold her gaze. "Zith, please. You know me; you know I mean him no harm."

Zith gave another fierce hiss, but she made no move to attack and Godric felt a surge of hope. He took a careful step forwards and froze again. Zith held his gaze for a long moment before twisting back around the pillar. Her eyes remained on Godric though, and he didn't need to speak Parseltongue to know that she would strike the moment he appeared to harm her friend. For now though, he was safe, and he had no intention of wasting the opportunity. Within moments, he was at his side.

"Salazar! Salazar, it's just a dream, wake up!"

A low moan escaped Salazar's lips, but there was no other response. Godric cursed and grabbed him by the shoulders. Zith gave a warning hiss, but he ignored her.

"Sal, wake up. It's not real!" He had to fight the urge to reach for his wand; the one time he had tried to use magic to wake him, Salazar's magic had seen it as an attack and reacted by hurling him into a wall. Instead, he chose the slower, but far safer method of shaking him and yelling into his ear.

"Damn it Sal, wake up!"

It may have been a result of his efforts, or maybe the dream had just run its course, but at that moment, Salazar's body gave a brutal jerk. His eyes snapped open, and the pain and loss was enough for Godric to take a step back. Still lost in the horrors he had experienced, Salazar didn't even seem to register his presence.

"Salazar!"

Salazar's gaze snapped to him, and Godric saw a flicker of recognition.

"Godric?"

Godric gripped his arm. "It's me." Beneath his hand, he could feel him trembling.

Salazar passed a shaking hand across his face and drew in a long shuddering breath. "Thank you."

Godric nodded, but didn't release him. "Are you all right?"

Salazar looked away. "I shall be fine."

Godric raised an eyebrow, but his shaking had subsided somewhat and he moved to the seat next to the bed. It hadn't escaped his notice that his friend's face was ashen and drawn with pain.

"Your leg?"

Salazar's jaw tightened. "Bearable."

Translation: agony. Godric sighed and Summoned a Pain-Relieving Potion. "Just drink it, Sal."

Salazar frowned, but for once didn't try to argue and swallowed the contents of the vial. Godric shook his head as some of the tension drained from his body.

"This would be much easier if you just let Helga help after one of these."

Salazar scowled at his sheets. "There is no need to disturb her."

Godric bit back a retort. How many times were they going to have to have this decision? Salazar glanced at him, and his eyes softened.

"Besides, it has been years," he said quietly. "I thought there was no further need."

"Which begs the question of why you had one at all," said Godric. "You still have the Dream-Catchers up, don't you?"

Salazar nodded. "Always, but they are not infallible." His expression darkened. "And I was distracted last night."

Godric looked at him. "The news our visitors brought?" Salazar just nodded and he sighed. "You cannot obsess over it."

"My reputation is in ruins," Salazar hissed. "My name used to justify murder. Do you expect me to forget that?" As if sensing his distress, Zith uncoiled herself from the bedpost and made her way across the pillow to him. Salazar's attention was immediately on her and he gave a low soothing hiss. Godric sighed. He recognised that interrupting the pair now was probably not the best plan. After a few more exchanges, Salazar tuned back to him.

"My apologies," he murmured. "She was upset."

"I am not surprised. Did you tell her?"

Salazar nodded. "She knows when I am hiding something." He scowled. "It's difficult to lie in Parseltongue."

"Really? I must learn it."

Salazar shot him a scathing look. "Now that would be a task worthy of Herakles' labours."

Godric rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help smiling. It was good to see Salazar sound more like his usual self. Salazar caught his eye.

"I am fine," he said quietly. "It is merely disheartening to know that this has all been for nothing."

Godric frowned at him. "Don't be absurd."

"Godric-"

"No, Sal. I don't care what our guests say. We know who you are, and we know that you would never act like that. "

Salazar looked away. "Everyone in the future thinks differently."

"Maybe, but will damaging your own health change that?" Salazar didn't reply and he continued more gently. "We cannot change the future, Sal. Please don't let it change you."

Salazar held his gaze. "You do not mind then? You don't..."

His voice trailed off, but Godric had known him for a long time. "You think we'd believe them? Don't be ridiculous." Salazar's eyes widened and he felt a rush of understanding. "Was this what you dreamt of?"

Salazar's face went blank. "Partly." He didn't elaborate, but Godric could guess all too easily. There was nothing that could be said that would help that, but at least he could do something about his friend's other concern.

"We know you," he said quietly. "And while some of us may have doubts in the past-"

"All of you," Salazar muttered.

"All of us," Godric acknowledged. "But we would not have entered into this undertaking if we did not trust each other completely." His eyes narrowed. "All of us."

Salazar stayed silent for a long moment, but his manner was thoughtful rather than angry. Godric sighed. It was true that he had been wary of the younger wizard at first. Some of his choices, while understandable, had left much to be desired, but he had proven his dedication to them and their ideals. There was no doubt in his mind as to the accuracy of the new information. Salazar looked at him, and, for the first time since waking, there was more than pain in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Godric smiled. "It is no trouble."

"But it is still appreciated." His face tightened momentarily as a shiver wracked his thin frame. Godric frowned as he realised his trembling still hadn't completely abated and he silently cast a Warming Charm round the bed. A fire would certainly not be appreciated right now. Salazar relaxed further at the increase in temperature, and managed a small smile.

"Again, thank you."

Godric smiled, but at that moment, his attention was diverted by the presence of Hogwarts in his mind.

"Godric." For the second time that night, her soft voice was very worried.

"Hogwarts? Is something wrong?" A quick glance showed Salazar was listening too, and his drawn face was pale.

"It is the children you asked me to watch. The one they call Harry appears to be having a nightmare."

Salazar's eyes narrowed in concern. "Is he all right?"

"His friends are attempting to wake him, but so far they have been unsuccessful."

Salazar glanced at him. "One of us should go."

Godric glared at him. "I certainly hope that wasn't an offer." He got to his feet. "I will see to it."

Salazar frowned, but didn't try to argue. "Take some Dreamless Sleep Potions," he suggested. "They will probably need them." A flicker of chagrin crossed his face. "I should have offered earlier."

Godric nodded and Summoned the vials from a nearby drawer. "You had other things on your mind." His tone betrayed his reluctance; the last thing he wanted to do was leave his friend in this condition, but someone had to make sure that their guests were all right and he didn't want to disturb Rowena or Helga. They had both had long days.

Salazar saw his hesitation. "Just go," he said quietly. "I will be fine."

Godric attempted a smile. He had known Salazar too long to be confident of that. "Just make sure you are." He sighed again and directed a thought at Hogwarts. "I will be there directly. Will you tell me if anything changes?"

"Of course."

Godric felt the presence leave his mind, and turned back to Salazar. "I will be back as soon as I can."

Salazar's expression turned troubled. "Stay as long as you have to. They have endured more than you realise."

Godric's face darkened at the possibilities. With a final glance back, he strode from the room and willed himself to the first floor.

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Harry opened his eyes and bit back a curse. He didn't know why he was surprised; there was no reason why travelling a thousand years back in time should mean a peaceful night's sleep. Cold dread settled in his stomach as he looked at the familiar hedges of the maze. It might not be as bad as the insights into Voldemort's mind, but it was still far from pleasant.

His musings were interrupted rather abruptly by a piercing screech. Harry whirled round and felt his heart sink. Blast-Ended Skrewts were as hideous in dreams as they were in real life, and this one was advancing rather rapidly down the passage, its beady eyes fixed on him, and its stinger curled back ready to strike. Heart pounding, Harry started backing away, drawing his wand as he did so. He knew he stood no chance of defeating the thing, but maybe he could distract it. A moment later, that hope was dashed as the Skrewt charged at him. Faced with several tonnes of charging monster, Harry did the only thing he could. He ran for it.

Harry didn't have a chance to think about his route. He dashed down the closest available passage and just kept running. He changed direction at every possible opportunity, but no matter what he tried, the Skrewt stayed on his tail. Before long his legs were shaking and he was gasping for breath, but he forced himself to keep going. He darted round another corner then nearly fell over as he came to an abrupt halt.

Somehow, his mad flight had brought him to the centre of the maze. The Triwizard Cup stood not two metres away, bathing the surrounding hedges in a dim blue light. And standing beside it…

"Cedric."

Cedric waved at him. "Harry, come on! You're going to get eaten!"

Harry whirled round; he had completely forgotten about the Skrewt, which had just entered the passage he was standing in. With an effort, he threw himself forwards. Cedric caught his arm and dragged him to the Cup.

"Come on Harry, nearly there!"

"Cedric," Harry gasped. "We can't…it's a Portkey…" Bur Cedric had already grabbed the handle, and Harry was forced to close his eyes as the Portkey activated, carrying him away from the maze towards something far worse.

Harry grunted as the breath was driven from his body at their landing. Bile rose in his mouth at the memories, but he forced himself to his feet and staggered towards the Cup.

"Cedric, we have to get out of here." He looked round desperately for the older boy. "Cedric!"

Cedric was staring at him, his handsome face a mask of confusion. "Harry, what's going on?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Harry insisted. "Please, we have to go now!"

The Hufflepuff still looked bemused, but he moved across to join him. "All right. I trust you, Harry."

Harry felt like crying with relief. "Thank you. Come on." Now all they had to do was get to the Cup. A wild hope stirred in his chest. They were going to make it! He looked round impatiently and froze.

"Cedric," he croaked. "Run." Cedric's eyes widened and he spun round. The blood drained from his face.

A cold smile crossed Lord Voldemort's face as he walked towards toward them.

"Harry Potter. Come to die." The smile widened and he raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry braced himself, but the expected pain never came. Instead the jet of light whipped over his shoulder and struck Cedric full in the chest. Grey eyes met green, before Cedric Diggory fell, lifeless, to the floor.

Despair drove Harry to his knees. This couldn't happen, not again, Cedric, Cedric couldn't be dead, this wasn't happening, this wasn't real, and Voldemort was laughing and Cedric was dead and someone was calling his name and Voldemort was laughing and none of them would shut up and now Voldemort was aiming his wand, and he had lost his own and there was nothing he could do to stop the surge of water rushing toward him…

Harry woke coughing and spluttering and, despite the fact that he was in bed, dripping wet.

"Wha-what-"

"Sorry, mate." Someone handed him his glasses and a moment later, Ron's freckled face swam into view. "You all right?"

Harry wiped water from his eyes to glare at him. "What in Merlin's name was that?"

Ron's expression turned sheepish. "I couldn't get you to wake up. That was the first thing I thought of."

"Yeah, well, it worked." He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. Nearly drowning on top of a nightmare was not the way to ensure a good night's rest.

"I told you." Hermione had come forward to glare at Ron.

"I didn't see you coming up with any better ideas."

Hermione sniffed and turned to Harry. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Now that he was over the shock, the memory of the dream was returning, and he had to fight to keep himself from shaking. From the narrowing of Ron's eyes, he wasn't succeeding.

Hermione too was studying him closely. "Are you sure? You look very pale."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, what do you expect?"

Hermione huffed and folded her arms. "Some help would be nice, you know."

"Look, I'm fine," Harry interjected. "It was just a bad dream." He gritted his teeth as his friends exchanged sceptical looks. "What is it?"

Ron sighed. "Mate, we know what your dreams are like. Can you blame us for wanting to be sure?"

A sharp retort sprang to Harry's lips, but it died at the honest concern in Ron's eyes. A second glance showed that Hermione was white as a sheet, and he found that he couldn't remain angry at them.

"I'm fine," he repeated wearily. "It wasn't a vision or anything, just a dream about the graveyard…"

'I trust you, Harry.'

He shivered and forced the memory away. "Just a dream."

Ron looked like he wanted to argue, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Harry called. His eyes widened when Godric pushed open the door. "Professor Gryffindor!"

Godric smiled at him. "Aye." He raised an eyebrow at Harry's sodden hair and sheets. "If I may ask-?"

Ron coughed. "I, er, had to improvise."

Godric nodded approvingly. "Taking the initiative. Excellent." Ron went bright red at the compliment. A wave of Gryffindor's wand dried both Harry and the bed instantly.

Harry gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks." Any mortification he might have felt at being found like this was somewhat lessened by the fact that Ron and Hermione were in exactly the same state.

"You are welcome." His gaze turned serious. "Are you all right? I heard you were having a nightmare."

Hermione stared at him. "How did you know about that?"

"Some basic monitoring spells. Do not worry; there is nothing intrusive, but our guests' well-being is of great concern to us."

Harry forced a smile. "I'm fine, thank you." He dropped his gaze. "Trust me, I've had worse."

Hermione's expression became even more worried at that. "But are you sure? We couldn't wake you, and you were shouting-"

"Hermione, he said he was okay," said Ron gently. "Besides, that was a mild one in comparison."

Godric frowned. "That was a mild one?"

Harry gave a bitter smile. "Half the time, Voldemort's in my head. I'll take a nightmare over that any day." He looked away as Gryffindor's eyes darkened. This was one area he did not feel like discussing right now.

To his relief, Ron provided a distraction by turning to Hermione. "Hey, are you sure you're feeling all right? You look a bit peaky."

She nodded. "I'm fine." The slight tremor in her voice did nothing to convince them of that.

Godric shook his head. "I think you need some rest." He reached in to a pocket and handed her a vial. "Dreamless Sleep Potion. It will help, I promise you."

She accepted the potion with a small smile. "Thank you." Her gaze flickered to Harry. "Are you-"

"Hermione, I'll be fine," said Harry firmly. "Go on, you look like you're about to faint."

Hermione glared at him. "I am not."

"Well, maybe not, but I don't really want to find out." He smiled at her. "Go on. It'll be fine."

She hesitated a moment longer, but the encouraging nod Ron gave her seemed to make up her mind. "All right. Good night then."

"Good night, Hermione."

As the door closed behind her, Ron turned to Godric.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "She isn't used to dealing with this stuff."

Godric shot him an understanding smile. "I understand completely." He glanced over at Harry, who was still shivering. "Now, how do you really feel?"

Harry stared at him. "I told you, I'm fine."

Godric raised an eyebrow. "Lad, you're talking to someone who's lived with Salazar Slytherin for most of his life."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. "Oh."

"Can you always tell when he's lying then?" asked Ron curiously.

Godric snorted. "That would be impossible. But more often than he realises." He looked back at Harry. "Well?"

Harry picked at the sheets. "It wasn't the worst one I've ever had." He sighed and looked up. "Look, I'll be fine. All that Legilimency just brought back some bad memories." He broke off with a shiver.

Godric's eyes narrowed, but he didn't comment. Instead, he passed over a potion. "I think you could use one of these too tonight."

Harry hesitated, but the glint in Gryffindor's eyes made it quite clear that he would not take no for an answer. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." His expression turned thoughtful. "Do you have these dreams often?"

"Well…"

"Almost every night," Ron supplied. "Some are worse than others."

Godric nodded. "In that case, I will talk to Salazar about setting up some Dream-Catchers. They may be of some help."

Harry frowned. "Dream-Catchers."

"A type of ward. Salazar or Rowena could explain them in more detail, but they may be able to help with your dreams."

Harry felt a surge of hope. "You mean I'd stop having these nightmares?"

"Maybe not entirely, but they would certainly decrease the frequency with which you have them."

"That would still be better." He frowned suddenly. "Do you think he would?"

"Why would he not?"

Harry glanced down. "Well, after everything I said..."

Gryffindor sighed. "He does not blame you for that, lad, and even if he did, he would not refuse a student aid."

"Even though we're not technically students?" asked Ron.

Godric shrugged. "You will be. Besides, you are under our protection now and your well-being is our concern."

Harry nodded slowly. "Thank you." A thought struck him and he winced. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. It must be pretty late by now."

"It would never be any trouble," Godric assured him. "In any case, I was already awake." He sighed. "You were not the only one to suffer from unpleasant memories tonight." Ron shot him a curious look, but Harry suddenly found himself unable to suppress another yawn. Gryffindor's eyes twinkled.

"And maybe Hermione isn't the only one who should be resting now."

Harry gave a sheepish smile. "I guess not. Thanks for the help and the potions."

"It was my pleasure." He stretched and turned to Ron. "Time for us to be going."

Ron nodded. "I'm coming." He glanced at his friend. "You will take that, won't you?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but downed the potion. "Happy?"

"Just about. Night, Harry."

"Night," came a very sleepy reply.

Ron shot a questioning glance at Godric, who nodded. "Salazar designed them to act quickly." A low snore met their ears and he nodded towards the door. Ron took the hint and followed the Founder out into the corridor.

Once outside, Godric shut the door behind them and turned to the younger wizard.

"Salazar developed them himself," he explained. "Many earlier potions took a long time, and often didn't last very long."

Ron nodded. "Good thing he did. He usually takes ages to get back to sleep after one of those."

"I'm glad it was a help." He ran an appraising eye over the time-traveller. "You seem to be taking all this very calmly."

Ron shrugged. "I've shared a room with him for five years; I should be used to it by now." He sighed. "He gets them often enough."

A thought struck Godric. "How did you even know he was having one tonight? You couldn't have heard him from your room."

"It takes me a while to get used to sleeping somewhere new," Ron explained. "I thought I might as well check on Harry, seeing as I was already awake. It's sort of a habit now." A scowl crossed his face. "Good thing too. He never would have told us about it in the morning."

Godric nodded. "He is fortunate to have a friend like you then."

A light blush spread across Ron's face and he dropped his gaze. "Not really. Besides, anyone would have done the same."

Godric raised an eyebrow. "Maybe, but I think he needs you more than you realise." He had expected Ron to brighten at that, and so was surprised when the young man snorted.

"Yeah, as the comic relief."

Godric shook his head. "You underestimate how much he values your friendship. It is easy to see how much he relies on both you and Hermione."

Ron glanced at him. "You've only known us a few hours. How can you-" He stopped taking abruptly, his ears turning bright red, but Godric just shook his head.

"You make a good point. I do not know any of you well enough to make judgements regarding your friendship. But if you were involved with even half of what Salazar hinted at, then I would say you are needed more than you realise."

Ron looked at the floor. "I doubt it. He needs Hermione because she always has an answer, but I usually just end up making things worse."

Godric glanced at him. "If that is what you think, then answer me this. Who did both of them need tonight?"

Ron frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Who noticed that Harry was dreaming and thought of a way to break it? Who did Hermione look to to see what to do?"

Ron's eyes widened. "But I hardly did anything."

Godric sighed. "It may feel like that to you, but to them I suspect it meant a great deal more." He smiled. "Harry and Hermione might be able to deal with a crisis, but even they need someone to lean on."

Ron swallowed. "Me?"

Godric smiled. "Just think about it. Now then," he said briskly, "it is very late and we have a long day ahead of us."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "Oh, yeah."

Godric frowned. "Are you all right?"

Ron looked down at the floor. "Yeah, it's just..."

"What?"

Ron took a deep breath and glanced up. "I'm really not good at tests," he said quickly. "I don't think I'm going to do very well."

Godric felt a surge of sympathy at the tension in his face. "Well, the first thing is to relax," he said gently. "These are not the formal tests you may be familiar with; they are just to give us an idea of what you have been taught effectively. From there, we can expand on it, and teach you to use that knowledge most efficiently."

A small smile spread across Ron's face at that. "It'll be good to learn to fight properly."

Godric shook his head. "It is difficult to believe that your education has been so lacking. Have you had any formal duelling experience?"

Ron grimaced. "Someone did try to organise a duelling club, but the teacher was an idiot." He grinned suddenly. "We did get to see one of the other teachers hex him though, so we did learn something."

Godric fought the urge to sigh. "I am glad to hear it." It looked like he was going to have a lot of work to do.

Ron's smile faded slightly. "Of course, Harry's had a bit more experience than the rest of us."

Godric felt a prickle of apprehension. "What do you mean?"

Ron shuffled his feet. "He doesn't really talk about it," he muttered. "It's just sometimes when he's dreaming..." He broke off shaking his head.

Godric gritted his teeth. The thought of anyone hurting one of his students, past, present, or even future, was enough to make his blood boil. "I see."

Ron frowned suddenly. "You won't say anything to him, will you?"

Godric shook his head. "Not yet, but he may need to talk about it eventually."

Ron sighed. "I think he does. He won't though, not willingly at any rate."

That sounded familiar. "We will see." He shook his head. "But that is a discussion for another day."

Ron took the hint and nodded. "I'd better get to bed too."

"Yes, I think so. Do you need a potion?"

Ron shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm used to it." He hesitated a moment. "What you said earlier, did you mean it?"

Godric met his gaze steadily. "Every word."

Ron ducked his head. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Good night, Ron."

"Good night, sir."

Still looking slightly dazed, the redhead returned to his room and shut the door behind him.

Godric shook his head and started making his way up the corridor. He hoped that Ron would take his words to heart; he might have only known them a short time, but Godric had always been perceptive, and it had not been difficult to see who had been in control in that room. He frowned slightly. It might have been clear to him, but Ron clearly thought differently. He resolved to speak to the boy again in the morning. For now though, he had another friend to deal with. His lips quirked into a grimace. Improving Ron's self-esteem would be nothing after dealing with Salazar's demons. Taking a deep breath, Godric willed himself away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a dream and wasn't a dream. Thick fog surrounded her, and she couldn't see more than a few metres in any direction. She relaxed immediately as she took in where she was. It had been a while since she had had a vision like this, but she knew that nothing here could hurt her. The knowledge she would gain might not be particularly pleasant, but it was certain to be valuable. All she had to do was wait and watch and remember.

She did not have to wait for long. Through the fog, seven dark figures were approaching. An instinctive twinge of fear ran down her spine, but she ignored it. Nothing could harm her here. Physically at any rate. She continued to watch as the seven separated into two groups, one of four and one of three. They halted just far enough away that she couldn't make out any details but, try as she might, she couldn't move any closer. She suppressed a twinge of frustration with an effort. These visions were always accurate, but they tended to be sparse on details.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then one of the people from the group of four separated from their fellows and moved across to the other group. A moment later, the new group of four vanished, and she gasped as a sudden wave of misery and loss crashed down upon her. The abrupt surge of emotions was enough to break the trance, and she found herself in her own bed gasping for breath.

It took a couple of minutes to calm down enough to think rationally. Dreams like that could not be ignored, but the true meaning could be difficult to interpret. Rowena took a deep breath and put her head in her hands. The despair the vision had incurred terrified her; she could think of very few things that could inspire such emotions, and the things that could she didn't want to even contemplate. If only the dream had been more clear. Unfortunately, she could think of all too many possible interpretations of the actual events that she had seen. It would take more information than they currently had to narrow down the real prediction, and who knew when that might happen.

Rowena sighed and slowly lay back down. There was nothing to be done about it now. She would discuss it with Helga and the others in the morning. Maybe one of them would be able to offer a reasonable explanation. She closed her eyes again and this time fell gratefully into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought.

Chapter 4: A Whole New World

Notes:

I apologise if some of the historical details in this chapter are incorrect; I have done my best to research the early Middle Ages, but it has been difficult to find out exactly what everyday life was like back then, and magic complicates things further. Please do let me know if there are any glaring errors so I can correct them. Thanks.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry muffed a yawn as he made his way through the silent corridors. He wasn't used to sleeping potions, and whatever Gryffindor had given him had been very strong. He certainly wasn't about to complain though; it was the first restful night he had had in weeks. It was his furiously growling stomach that eventually woke him; they had gone to the Ministry without waiting for dinner, and in all the excitement, none of them had thought to ask for any food. No surprise then, that he was famished. He had waited for the others, but Ron's snores and Hermione's solidly closed door, combined with his stomach's increasingly vocal complaints, had eventually driven him to go by himself.

It took a moment for him to get his bearings, but he was able to find the Great Hall without too many problems. The actual hall was reassuringly familiar, the enchanted ceiling showing a hearteningly blue sky. The single long table in the centre of the room made him pause, but he remembered the Founders saying that most of the students had gone home and realised that five tables probably weren't necessary. Thankfully, there was no one else present; Harry didn't think he was up to maintaining their cover story this early in the day. He slumped into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. One night wasn't nearly enough time to get used to all this.

A sudden loud crack made him jump.

"Can Tenby help young master?"

Harry's eyes snapped open to find a house-elf standing next to him. Something else hadn't changed; the little creature was almost identical to the ones in the future, complete with tea towel toga.

"Some breakfast would be great, thanks."

"Right away, master."

The house-elf disappeared with a second crack and Harry sat back to wait. He soon found himself wondering what breakfast was going to be. His knowledge of medieval times was limited to say the least, but he didn't think the usual cooked breakfast was going to be on the menu. His question was answered a moment later when Tenby reappeared.

"Breakfast."

Harry smiled as the elf deftly moved the plates in front of him. "Thank you."

Tenby's face split in a huge grin. "It be Tenby's pleasure, Master." He bowed low and disappeared.

Harry shook his head fondly. After everything that had happened, it was good to know that some things would take more than a thousand years to change. He turned to his breakfast and paused. Now this was different.

Sitting on the plate was a small, round loaf of brown bread, and a slice of cheese. Neither looked anything like what he was used to. Harry picked the bread up and sniffed it. It was still warm, and the smell set his stomach grumbling again, but he still hesitated. He had known things would be different, but he hadn't expected them to be this different.

"It isn't going to kill you."

Harry scrambled to his feet. "Professor!"

Slytherin smiled at him. "Good morning, Harry." He carefully eased himself into a seat opposite. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry looked down at his feet. "Mostly."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Mostly?" He sighed. "Sit down, Harry."

Harry flushed and took his seat again. Slytherin leaned back and studied him. "What's wrong?"

Harry glanced ruefully at the bread in his hand. "Everything's different. The food, the rooms, even the castle." He shrugged. "It feels strange."

Slytherin gave him a sympathetic look. "I understand," he said gently. "But I am sure you will adapt. You have only been here a short time, after all."

Harry sighed. "I hope so."

Slytherin nodded. "You will. In the meantime," he pushed Harry's plate towards him, "eat. You are going to need your strength today."

Harry hesitated, but Slytherin's eyes held nothing but reassurance. Warily he broke off a piece and put it in his mouth. It was different, very different, but not unpleasant. Certainly, it was better than half the things the Dursleys had given him. He swallowed and looked up.

"It's good."

Slytherin smiled. "Did you really think we would try to poison you? Come, eat."

Harry didn't have to be told twice. It might not have been what he was used to, but it was quite enough to satisfy his stomach. He was halfway through his meal before he realised something.

"Aren't you having anything?"

Slytherin shook his head. "I rarely eat much in the mornings."

Harry stopped eating long enough to study him. Now that he was looking, he could see the dark rings underneath the Founders' eyes, and the contrast they made to his slightly too pale skin. He didn't look at all well. Sensing his scrutiny, Slytherin looked up, and Harry quickly returned his attention to his food, but not before recognising a slight twinge of concern.

"Godric tells me you suffered a nightmare last night."

Harry coughed and looked up. "He told you about that?" He didn't even try to hide his dismay; it was bad enough that Gryffindor had seen him like that, he didn't want the rest of them knowing about it too.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "He was concerned." He paused for a moment. "Forgive me, Harry. I should recognised the possibility and offered a potion earlier."

Harry stared at him for a good few seconds before remembering to answer. "It's fine. I probably wouldn't have taken it anyway."

"I see." He frowned. "Do you have these nightmares often?"

Harry scowled at his food. "Most nights."

Slytherin's eyes darkened. "In that case, I will set up some Dream-Catchers. Are you familiar with them?"

"Professor Gryffindor explained it earlier, but he didn't go into much detail," Harry said. "Will they really stop the dreams?" He hadn't realised how much the nightmares took out of him until he didn't have to have them, but he doubted he would be able to take a potion every night.

Slytherin nodded. "They are not infallible, but they should keep the majority of them at bay."

Harry's shoulders slumped. The prospect of more restful nights was a weight off his mind. "Thanks."

"You are welcome." He looked up to meet Harry's eyes. "If I may ask, what was the subject of your dream?" Harry tensed, but Slytherin continued before he could snap. "I will understand if you do not wish to remember, but it may do you some good to talk about it."

Harry's fingers clenched into fists. Talking about it wouldn't help. How could it when nobody understood what it was like? He was just opening his mouth to say as much when something in Slytherin's eyes made him pause. There was pain there, old, but visible to those who knew how to look. He suddenly recalled Gryffindor saying that he had already been awake because of bad memories. Harry had thought he was talking of his own, but seeing Slytherin's exhausted face, and that pain... Maybe he would understand. And he was so tired of keeping it all hidden away.

"The graveyard," he muttered. "Voldemort, and Cedric..." He trailed off with a shiver.

Slytherin's face hardened. "He will pay dearly for that," he murmured. He sighed and looked up. "Do not blame yourself for his death."

Harry started. "How did you-"

Slytherin gave a bitter smile. "I do not have to use Legilimency to recognise guilt when I see it."

Harry glanced away. "But it is my fault. I told him to take that stupid cup with me. If I hadn't, he wouldn't have even been there." And he would still be alive.

Slytherin shook his head. "Did you hold the wand? Did you say the curse?" Harry didn't reply and he sighed. "One man is responsible for Cedric's death, Harry. And it isn't you."

Harry said nothing. Dumbledore and Sirius had both said similar things. He had listened and nodded then, but he had never managed to make himself believe it. Listening to Slytherin though, it didn't sound quite so impossible. Maybe because he knew Slytherin wasn't just saying it to make him feel better. He looked up in time to see Slytherin give a small smile.

"Think about it." He rose to his feet and Harry, remembering his manners, hastened to do the same. "I will inform the others that you are nearly ready. One of us will come to collect you when you finish."

Harry frowned. "But what about Ron and Hermione?"

Slytherin nodded over his shoulder. "I believe they are ready to join you."

Harry glanced round to see Ron and Hermione hovering in the doorway staring at him. At his smile, they began to cross the room towards him. Slytherin nodded to him.

"I will see you later," he said quietly. "Remember what I said."

Harry nodded. "I will. Thank you." It would take more than one conversation to heal those wounds, but it was a start. Slytherin gave a slight smile and limped from the room, nodding to Ron and Hermione as he passed them.

Harry was staring after him, still bemused by the turn the conversation had taken, when his friends reached him. Both of them looked rather stunned.

"Were you just talking to Salazar Slytherin?" asked Ron. His eyes were wide in his freckled face.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What did he want?"

Harry sat back down. "He just wanted to see if I was all right."

Ron blinked. "We're still talking about Slytherin, right?"

Harry frowned at him. "Is that so hard to believe? You heard what the others said yesterday."

"Harry, it's still Salazar Slytherin," Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.

"Come one Hermione, why would the other Founders vouch for him if he was as bad as all our books say?"

Hermione still did not look convinced. "So you're just going to trust him?"

Harry glanced down. "I don't know." It wasn't easy to forget five years worth of bias, but he doubted the man they had learned about would have tried to comfort him as Slytherin had. He sighed and looked up. "We'll just have to see what happens."

Ron held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. "Sounds good. In the meantime though, what's for breakfast?"

That morning meal proved to be one of the most bizarre Harry had ever participated in. Ron needed no urging to enjoy the food, years of Fred and George's pranks had long since inured him to strange meals, but Hermione needed a little more convincing. Between the two of the, Harry was almost able to forget the mess they were in. He was abruptly reminded of it though, when Hermione leaned closer to him just as they were finishing.

"Harry," she whispered. "Hufflepuff."

Harry glanced round to see Hufflepuff standing in the doorway and quickly rose to his feet, nudging Ron to do the same. Hufflepuff smiled as she made her way towards them.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Professor," they chorused.

Hufflepuff's eyes twinkled. "I hope you slept well."

Harry nodded. "It was fine, thanks." Hermione frowned, but he silenced her with a quick glare. Ron coughed and turned to Hufflepuff.

"So what's going to happen today? Those tests?" He did not sound particularly enthralled by the prospect. Not that Harry could blame him; exams were never fun, and even less so after two weeks of O.W.L.s. Hermione scowled at them, but Hufflepuff gave a sympathetic smile.

"It is necessary, I am afraid. Have all of you finished?" They nodded. "Did you find the food all right? Salazar mentioned that it was not what you are used to."

"It was very good, thank you," Hermione assured her. "Different, but good."

Open curiosity shone in Hufflepuff's eyes. "Yes, I can imagine there will have been a great many developments and new discoveries."

"There have been," said Hermione. "It's really quite fascinating to experience life here."

"Indeed. You shall have to tell me about your own time some time." She smiled as Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "But that is a discussion for later. Come, Rowena will be ready by now."

Harry's stomach suddenly felt full of butterflies. The tests alone would be bad enough, but the thought of embarrassing himself in front of Rowena Ravenclaw...

"I thought you were going to be doing it?" Ron had evidently had the same thought.

Helga shook her head. "I will be assessing your Herbology later on, but I have some matters I must attend to first, and so Rowena offered to test your Transfiguration and Arithmancy. I should be finished by then, and then Salazar will take you for Potions and Runes, before Godric finishes with Charms and Defence." She looked round at them. "Will that be all right?"

Harry bit his lip. Being tested by all four of the Founders was not a pleasant prospect. He wasn't the only one to think so; Ron had paled under his freckles, and even Hermione was staring at her feet. Helga's eyes softened.

"These are not formal tests," she said gently. "We know that changes in spells and teaching methods will have resulted in very different standards, and we cannot decide how best to help you without an accurate idea of your current capabilities. This will help us with that." She gave an encouraging smile. "Just do your best. We will not be judging you."

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay. We're ready." He was still nervous, but there was no point in delaying things further. Ron and Hermione both looked wary but determined. Helga looked at them and nodded approvingly.

"Very well then. Please follow me."

Harry spent the brief trip desperately running through all the Transfiguration he could remember. He had learned everything for the O.W.L.s, but that exam had been in the first week, and he was alarmed at how little he could remember. It didn't help that he had no idea what sorts of spells the Founders already knew and what they were likely to be tested on.

A few minutes later, Hufflepuff stopped outside what Harry recognised to be the future History of Magic classroom.

"Remember, just do your best," she said quietly. She knocked on the door and pushed it open.

Ravenclaw was standing by the window, and Harry was struck again by her appearance. He also saw though, that she was very pale, and her welcoming smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Good morning," she said quietly. "I trust you are all well."

Hermione managed a small smile. "Fine, thank you."

"Good." She came towards them and nodded to Helga. "Thank you for bringing them."

"It was my pleasure. Let me know when you are ready, and I will come and collect them."

Ravenclaw shook her head. "Do not worry; I shall escort them down when we are finished."

Helga held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. "Very well." She took her friend's hand for a moment, and spoke so quietly that Harry had to strain to make out the words. "Try not to dwell on it. We will discover the meaning in due time."

Rowena squeezed her hand. "I know."

Helga nodded and turned to the trio. "I will see you shortly. Good luck." She gave them a final smile and left the room.

Harry wanted to ask what Hufflepuff had been talking about but, contrary to Snape might think, he did have some sense, and he knew it was none of his business. A moment later, Ravenclaw removed the temptation.

"Now then, shall we begin?" Her dark gaze ran over them, and Harry had to fight to keep from fidgeting as she continued. "I do not know how things are in your time, but at present, Transfiguration is one of the most complex magics we teach. Many students have difficulties with it, and very few have been able to master it completely."

Harry nodded. "It's the same in the future." He often suspected McGonagall was disappointed that he hadn't inherited his father's talent for it.

"I see. Now, what aspects of transfiguration have you covered so far?"

"We've done quite a lot of Transformation, though we don't do any human Transfiguration until next year," said Hermione promptly. "We started Vanishing last year, and we've been developing that this year. Vanishing mammals is probably the most complex things we've had to do."

Ravenclaw nodded. "So you have not covered Untransifiguration or Conjuration?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure about Untransfiguration, but I think we start Conjuration next year."

"Great," Ron muttered. Harry shared his sentiments; he had struggled enough with the Vanishing spells.

Ravenclaw glanced at them. "You do not enjoy Transfiguration?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not that we don't like it," he said carefully. "It's just that we find it harder than some people do." He looked pointedly at Hermione, who had the grace to blush.

A faint smile touched Ravenclaw's face. "Quite understandable. In any case, we shall be starting with the basics." She waved her hand and three rolls of parchment appeared on the desk. "Could you turn these into quills for me?"

Harry let himself relax slightly. McGonagall had sprung similar tests on them enough times in their first few years that this should not be a problem. Glancing sideways, he saw a similar relief in Ron's eyes. Hermione, however, looked almost disappointed. Smiling at the sight, Harry drew his wand and concentrated.

"Mutatio."

The parchment seemed to shiver, before morphing into a long cream flecked quill. A moment later, Ron's and Hermione's followed suit. Harry was not in the least surprised to see that Hermione's was considerably prettier. Ravenclaw studied the finished products and nodded.

"Excellent. And now, non-verbally, if you would."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Professor, we're not due to start non-verbal magic until next term," said Hermione nervously. "I've read about it, but it's only been mentioned in class."

Ravenclaw frowned. "We would have started earlier, but I can see the logic in waiting." She shook her head. "It is of no great consequence. We can start on that once we are aware of you current level."

Harry winced. From what he'd heard, non-verbal magic was notoriously difficult. "Is it really that important?"

Ravenclaw just looked at him. "Consider the advantage you would have in a duel if your opponent did not know what spell you had cast."

Ron nodded slowly. "They wouldn't be able to counter it easily. If you were fast enough, they wouldn't have any warning at all."

"Precisely."

Harry briefly weighed the advantages against the difficulty, and realised there wasn't really a competition. "So when can we learn this again?"

Ravenclaw smiled at him. "Once I am satisfied that you can perform, at the very least, Vanishing spells without any problems." At their frowns, she elaborated. "Non-verbal magic is considerably more difficult than verbal magic. If you do not have a thorough understanding of the basics, you will struggle a great deal when it comes to more complex spells." Harry only had a moment to wonder how Vanishing spells could be considered basic before she turned back to the quills. "Now then, please produce a bird from these."

It proved to be a gruelling hour as Ravenclaw thoroughly tested each and every aspect of their knowledge. As expected, some aspects of their curriculum were new to her, prompting Hermione to give an impromptu lecture on Cross-Species Switching spells, but she proved surprisingly adept at picking up the principles. Harry watched in amazement as she assimilated facts and theorems it had taken him months to learn. Ron nudged him.

"Still think they'll have trouble getting us home?"

Harry just rolled his eyes, but his heart did feel a bit lighter. At least until Ravenclaw turned to them and asked them to demonstrate how to turn a mouse into a rabbit.

From there, Harry started struggling. He wasn't terrible at Transfiguration by any stretch, but it certainly wasn't his favourite subject. Hermione continued to perform flawlessly, but Ron was soon having as much trouble keeping up as he was. Eventually, after the two of them had taken several minutes to Vanish their kittens, Ravenclaw called a halt.

"I think that will do for now." She smiled at them. "I must say I am impressed. After your description of your teachers, I was afraid that standards would have slipped somewhat."

Hermione shook her head. "In Defence, maybe, but McGonagall knows exactly what she's doing."

"So I see. You have all done very well." Harry felt a surge of relief, but she wasn't finished. "Now, let us see about your Arithmancy."

Ron stirred at that. "Me and Harry never took Arithmancy," he said quickly. "We took Divination instead."

Ravenclaw glanced between them, her brows furrowing into a frown. "Indeed? It is rare for two Seers to be born to the same generation."

Harry stared at her. "What? We're not Seers."

The frown deepened. "Then why take Divination?"

"Because it was easier than Arithmancy," Ron mumbled. His ears went bright red as Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me it is no longer necessary to have the Sight to take that class?"

Harry nodded. "Anyone can do it."

Ravenclaw shook her head. "That sounds rather pointless."

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered.

Rowena frowned at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"It means... Never mind." Modern day colloquialisms weren't really a priority.

Ravenclaw still looked curious, but she didn't press the point. "Well then, would you and Ron mind waiting while I speak to Hermione?"

Harry was only too pleased by the chance of a breather. Ravenclaw conjured them a pair of chairs before rattling off a question that left Harry lost after the first four words. It must have meant something to Hermione though, because she didn't take more than a second to give her answer. For all Harry knew, she was making it up on the spot, but Ravenclaw's approving smile said that she was doing something right. Ron shook his head as he watched them.

"Mental. Completely mental."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I think we made the right decision."

Ron snorted. "Too right. Even Trelawney's better than that."

From the sound of things, the two witches had foregone English in favour of Greek, Latin, and increasing amounts of numbers. Just listening to them was giving Harry a headache and he closed his eyes. He was once again grateful for the potion Gryffindor had given him; doing all this on hardly any sleep would not have been fun.

"You all right, Harry?"

Harry looked round to see open concern in Ron's eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Ron did not look convinced. "Right."

Harry scowled at him. "It was just a nightmare, Ron. I've had them before."

"Yeah, I've noticed that."

"Then why make such a fuss?"

Ron glared at him. "I don't know, maybe it's because I get worried when I hear my best mate screaming his head off."

Harry's anger left as suddenly as it had come. "Right. Sorry." After a beat he added. "Slytherin said he'd set up those wards later, so it shouldn't happen again."

Some of the tension left Ron's shoulders. "Good." He was silent for a moment. "You know, I'm starting to think he really might not be as bad as everyone says."

Harry sighed. "I've been thinking the same thing."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "What were the two of you talking about earlier?"

Harry frowned. "I told you. He wanted to make sure I was all right." He shook his head as Ron's expression didn't change. "What? It's true."

"But how did he even know about that? We never told him."

"You weren't the only ones there, Ron. Gryffindor must have told him."

Ron grinned at that. "Now Gryffindor really is cool."

Harry looked at him. "So what the two of you talk about last night?"

He was amused, but not particularly surprised, when Ron's ears turned red. "Just stuff." He was silent for a moment. "He's not what I expected either."

Harry blinked at him. "What do you mean? You just said he was cool."

"He is, he's bloody brilliant. I just didn't expect him to be so... nice."

"Nice," Harry repeated. Of all the ways to describe the Founders...

Ron's flush darkened. "You know what I mean. He doesn't treat us like we're stupid kids."

Harry paused. It was true; Gryffindor had never treated them like children. Come to think of it, none of the Founders had really patronised them. They had been suspicious, and understandably so, but their youth had never been an issue. He was surprised how much of a difference it made.

"They're not like the adults back home," he murmured.

Ron nodded his agreement, but further discussion was forestalled as Hermione and Ravenclaw began to make their way across to them. Harry was glad to see that Hermione's spirits seemed to have lifted, though how Arithmancy could possibly cheer anyone up was beyond him. The two of them seemed happy though; indeed, there was a glint in Ravenclaw's eyes that Harry recognised all too easily.

"Those theorems sound fascinating," she was saying. "That should allow them to reconcile Ptolemy's fourth principle, am I correct?"

Hermione's eyes were wide as she nodded. "Yes, but it took them another forty years to recognise it."

"How? It is the only logical progression." She caught Harry and Ron exchanging a long look and gave a slight smile. "But maybe we should continue this later."

Hermione looked more than a little regretful. "I would love to go over those papers you mentioned," she said. "Most of Nicomachus' works were lost in the Great Fire, and no one was ever able to replicate them."

The dismay on Ravenclaw's face was almost comical. "Lost? Did they not know how to take care of such documents?" She shook her head. "I would be more than happy to go over them with you, my dear."

I think Hermione's found a kindred spirit," Ron murmured under his breath. Looking at the pair of them, Harry had to agree. Hermione turned to them, her eyes bright.

"Those scrolls have been lost for centuries," she said. "The amount of questions this could answer..." Her voice trailed off, and Harry could almost see her starting the calculations. Ravenclaw wore a similar expression but after a moment she shook her head.

"It will indeed be a fascinating study," she said. "However, I believe you have now have Herbology to attend to."

Harry scrambled to his feet. "Yeah, we do." After all that, he was desperate for some fresh air, even if it did mean more tests.

Ron followed suit, trying, and failing, to hide his relief. "So where are we going for these? The greenhouses?"

Hermione sighed. "Do you really expect to find greenhouses in AD1005, Ron?"

Ron glared at her. "We've only been here a few hours," he growled. "I bet you'll make mistakes too."

"Not like that."

Harry sighed and turned to Ravenclaw. "We keep the plants in glass buildings called greenhouses," he explained.

Ravenclaw nodded. "I see." Her eyes narrowed as Ron and Hermione continued to bicker.

Harry followed her gaze and winced. "Sorry. They do that a lot." Once again thankful for long robes, he stamped on Ron's foot, eliciting a muffled yelp.

"What was that- Oh..." His voice trailed off under Ravenclaw's stern disapproval and his ears blazed red. Hermione gave a sort of squeak and clamped her mouth shut. Harry sighed again. There went any chance of them being treated like adults. To his astonishment though, the frown slowly changed to a fond smile.

"At least some things have not changed." She shook her head. "In answer to your question Ron, Helga will be waiting for you in the gardens."

Ron nodded. "Gardens. Right." He paused. "Where are they?"

Ravenclaw smiled and began to make her way towards the door. "I will show you."

Hermione caught up before she had taken three steps. "Can I ask you about Marcus Aurelius' third law? No one's ever been able to complete it."

Ravenclaw's face fell. "They still haven't done it? It's been baffling Arithmancers for centuries. Godric and I have both studied it, to no avail."

Hermione shook her head. "Some of the 19th century mages came close, but the final proof is still incomplete."

"Really? How did they manage to reconcile the second and fourth equations?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a long look and followed them.

By the time they reached the Entrance Hall, Harry's head was spinning from the deluge of facts and figures. Hermione was clearly relishing having someone who shared her love of knowledge, and Ravenclaw seemed equally delighted to have such a willing pupil. They both looked more than a little regretful as they left the castle and began to cross the grounds.

"We will certainly have to continue this, my dear," Ravenclaw said. "Some of my students have talent in this area, but most simply do not have the time to master the concepts that would allow more advanced study. In that aspect, at least, your curriculum has surpassed ours."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink. "Well, we weren't really supposed to start some of this until the middle of next term, but it was so interesting that I couldn't help reading ahead."

Ravenclaw smiled at her. "I am glad to hear it. Godric has a surprisingly good grasp of these studies, but his interests tend to lie elsewhere."

Ron stared at her. "Professor Gryffindor does Arithmancy?"

She nodded. "He has always had an excellent head for figures." She gave a wry smile. "Though Duelling and Charms were always his true passions." She shook her head. "In any case Hermione, rest assured, your Arithmancy is more than satisfactory."

Hermione looked like she was about to burst with pride.

A few minutes later, they turned onto the paths that lead down to where the greenhouses would eventually be located. Harry stopped short. Instead of the familiar buildings, a vast array of gardens stretched out in front of them. He could see hundreds of plants, of all species, meticulously arranged according to their characteristics, and connected by multiple winding paths. The level of detail was astonishing. Ravenclaw smiled at their stunned faces.

"It took us years to complete," she said.

Ron nodded, his eyes wide. "I can see why."

"There must be thousands of plants down there," Hermione exclaimed.

Ravenclaw nodded. "Helga was most insistent that the students gain a thorough understanding of the basics."

Harry stared out at the display. "These are the basics?"

"Oh yes. You should see some of Helga's more interesting discoveries. Though interesting may not be quite the best word for them," she added in an undertone. Harry glanced at her, but she had already started moving towards the nearest path. "Come along now."

They followed her along several more paths. Harry was fairly good at Herbology, but he was nowhere near Neville's standards, and many of the plants were so similar that he was soon hopelessly lost. Ravenclaw seemed to know exactly where she was going though, for her footsteps never faltered. Even so, Harry was very glad when they turned a corner to find Hufflepuff kneeling on the path in front of them, carefully pruning what Harry thought was a screechsnap. She looked up at their approach and smiled.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if something had happened."

"My apologies," said Ravenclaw. "Hermione was telling me about some of the discoveries made in the future."

Hufflepuff laughed and got to her feet. "Why am I not surprised?"

Ravenclaw just smiled back. "I am sure I will not be the only one." She moved closer and her next words were too quiet for Harry to hear. Helga replied at the same volume, and then Ravenclaw turned back to them. "I must return to the castle. I trust I will see you at dinner?" She glanced at Hufflepuff, who nodded.

"This should not take long," she said. "We will join you then."

"Excellent." She nodded at the three of them. "I wish you luck."

"Thank you."

She smiled and began to make her way back towards the castle. Hermione watched rather regretfully, and jumped when Hufflepuff spoke.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

"Wait a minute," said Ron. "Are we really going to be here until dinner?" He looked rather dismayed by the prospect, and Harry couldn't blame him. The Time-Turner explosion had rendered his watch useless, but he was guessing that it was only just getting close to lunch. Waiting several more hours for food was not an appealing prospect. Hufflepuff, however, just looked bemused.

"I expect so. It is only an hour or so, after all."

Harry frowned. "So lunch is dinner here?"

Hufflepuff blinked. "Lunch?"

"What we call the midday meal," Hermione clarified.

"Oh, I see. Yes, that would be correct."

Ron was still frowning. "So what would what we call dinner be?"

"I presume that would be supper."

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense." She sighed. "This is all more complicated than I thought it would be."

Harry agreed with her. Every time he thought he was getting used to their situation, some new problem came up and reminded him just how out of their depth they were. Hufflepuff seemed to sense the darkening mood.

"You will adjust in time," she said gently. "From the little I know of your experiences, you have withstood more than this."

Harry sighed. "I guess, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Hufflepuff nodded sympathetically. "I understand. If there is anything we can do, do not hesitate to let one of us know."

Hermione managed a smile. "Thank you."

There was silence for a moment, then Hufflepuff shook her head. "For now though, maybe it will be better to keep busy."

"I wouldn't go that far," Ron mumbled.

Hermione frowned at him, but Hufflepuff's eyes twinkled. "I take it Herbology is not your favourite subject."

Ron looked down at his feet. "I don't hate it or anything," he said. "I just don't really see the point of it." He winced, clearly expecting a scathing reprimand, but Hufflepuff just nodded.

"A perfectly reasonable opinion." She gave a slight smile. "I must admit, I have often wondered the same thing about Astronomy."

"What is the point in Astronomy?" asked Harry. "I sort of get Herbology, but when are we ever going to need to know where Canis Major is in relation to Venus?"

Helga shook her head. "It has some application in Divination, and the lunar cycles can have an effect on certain plants and potions, but the rest..." She spread her hands. "Who knows? Rowena operates on the principle that all knowledge is valuable."

Hermione nodded vigorously while Harry and Ron carefully avoided each other's eyes. Hufflepuff smiled at them. "But, as you will see Ron, Herbology has many practical applications. You cannot make healing potions, for example, without a thorough understanding of the components." Seeing Ron still did not look convinced, she sighed. "And of course, we cannot forget the more aggressive uses."

Harry blinked. "How can plants be aggressive?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Devil's Snare, Harry."

Harry paused. "Oh." Yeah. That definitely qualified.

"An excellent example," Helga agreed. "But it is not the only one. A simple Bouncing Bulb, for example, could be an extremely useful diversion."

Harry thought about it. He had never considered using plants as weapons, but a roomful of Bouncing Bulbs would certainly cause chaos.

"I'd never thought of that," Hermione admitted.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "What about things like pollen? Some people react badly to things like that, don't they?"

"Precisely." She grimaced. "And we can take that idea further by looking at their uses in poisons. But that is more Salazar's field." She was silent for a moment, then shook her head. "Suffice to say, a good understanding of Herbology could be most useful for your future plans."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. He hadn't suspected that someone as kind as Hufflepuff could be so ruthlessly pragmatic. Under the circumstances though, he was hardly about to complain. From the sudden gleam in his eye, Ron had had the same thought.

"So, how are we going to do this?"

The next hour passed in a blur. Hufflepuff was far more relaxed than Ravenclaw, but they soon learned that her standards were just as high. Under her watchful eye, they identified, demonstrated how to care for, and listed various uses of dozens of different species. Hufflepuff was patient with their mistakes, and she was all too happy to introduce them to species they hadn't come across before.

"And this one produces spores which lower inhibitions when breathed in."

Ron frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You are more likely to do or say things that you wouldn't normally."

Harry tilted his head to one side. "So it makes you act drunk?"

Hufflepuff laughed. "In effect, yes." She smiled at a memory. "We discovered it while exploring the forest. It was an interesting afternoon."

Harry looked down at the blue flowers with a good deal more interest. He had never heard of anything like that. Hermione was equally intrigued.

"Neville would love this," she murmured.

It was true. Neville would have considered these gardens, with their rare, and even some extinct species, a dream come true. Harry's good mood evaporated immediately.

"Yeah. He would." He glanced up to find Hufflepuff's curious gaze on him. "Neville's brilliant at Herbology," he said quietly. "He would love it here."

Hufflepuff's eyes softened. "Is he the same person you mentioned earlier? The one who was with you?"

Harry looked away. "Yeah." The one who had followed him and might very well be dead now. Someone touched his arm and he looked up to meet Hufflepuff's concerned blue gaze.

"I am sorry. It was not my intention to upset you."

Harry scuffed the ground with one foot. "I know. I just wish I knew if they're all right."

Hermione moved to stand next to him. "They will be. We'll be back before anyone even realises we're missing." It would have been more convincing if she had managed to meet his gaze.

Hufflepuff glanced between them, a slight frown settling on her face. "Do not be so quick to despair," she said gently. "We will find a way to get you home, and you will be strong enough to protect your friends when we do."

Harry knew it wouldn't be as easy as that. It couldn't be. But the pure conviction in the Founder's voice was enough to give him hope. Her saw Hermione's shoulders straighten, and the determined gleam in Ron's eyes, and knew he was not the only one.

"That sounds like another plan."

"Good." She looked round, meeting everyone's eyes in turn. "I know this is difficult, but we will do everything we can to find a solution." She smiled. "For now though, I think we could all do with some dinner."

Ron grinned. "Another brilliant plan."

Harry was in full agreement, but Hermione frowned. "But what about the test?"

Hufflepuff shook her head fondly. "All three of you shall be fine. We may have to discuss some more practical applications of your knowledge, but I do not believe any of you will have any serious problems."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you." Harry caught Ron's eye and the two of them had to fight to keep from grinning. Hermione's eyes narrowed and Ron quickly turned to Hufflepuff.

"So... Dinner?"

Hufflepuff laughed. "Certainly, unless anyone had any further questions?"

Harry bit his lip. He did have one, but he wasn't entirely sure if she would be willing to answer.

"Harry?"

Harry flushed at the sudden attention. "It's not important."

Hufflepuff shook her head. "There is no such thing as an unimportant question. What is on your mind?"

Harry hesitated, but figured it could do no harm to ask. "I was just wondering what happened when you discovered that plant. The one that lowered inhibitions."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, but Hufflepuff shook her head.

"There is no harm to it."

Harry let out a relieved breath. "It's just you said it was interesting and, well..." His voice trailed off and he gave a helpless shrug, but Hufflepuff seemed to understand.

"There is nothing wrong with curiosity." Her eyes twinkled. "And it was a most entertaining event."

"What happened?" asked Ron eagerly.

Hufflepuff smiled at the memories. "Well, it started when Godric noticed that some of the creatures in the forest were behaving rather oddly. So, of course, he had to investigate, which meant Salazar had to go along too..."

By the time they reached the castle, both Harry and Ron were trying, and failing, to hide laughter, and Hermione had given up all pretence of disapproval and was hanging onto Hufflepuff's every word as she related the adventure. It was the first time any of them had really relaxed since their arrival, and Harry was surprised how much better he felt afterwards. From the satisfied gleam in Hufflepuff's eyes, he rather suspected that that had been her intention all along. He was still smiling when they entered the Great Hall.

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were already there, and both rose to their feet at their entrance.

"There you are," said Gryffindor. "I was about to come looking for you." He sounded more amused than irritated.

Hufflepuff smiled at them. "My apologies. There were a number of things to cover." She didn't mention their minor panic attacks, much to Harry's relief.

"I know what you mean," said Ravenclaw, glancing at Hermione.

Hufflepuff moved to the seat opposite Rowena, but Harry stayed where he was. There weren't any other students present and he wasn't sure what they were supposed to do. Hufflepuff glanced back at them.

"You may sit wherever you like," she told them. "There is little point in standing on ceremony when there are so few of us."

Harry swallowed. It made sense, but it certainly didn't make the situation feel any less strange. Then again, what could? It was Ron who made the first move, but there was a slight frown on his face as he sat down.

"I thought there were other students here."

"There are," said Hufflepuff. "Four of them." She glanced questioningly at the others.

"Edward, Aefe and Selwyn have gone to visit Hengist," Godric told her.

Helga looked to Rowena. "And Helena?"

"She chose to continue studying." Harry thought she didn't sound particularly pleased, but Helga was nodding.

"Of course." Her expression turned resigned. "And it appears Salazar had forgotten. Again."

Harry frowned. "Forgotten?"

Godric rolled his eyes. "He has a tendency to ignore minor details like mealtimes while he's working."

Rowena shook her head. "He really should be more careful. It isn't good for him."

"Ro, are you really one to talk?" asked Helga pointedly. "You're worse than he is."

"That isn't possible."

"Very close to it then," said Godric with a grin. He got to his feet again. "If you will excuse me, I will go and remind him." He bowed to the ladies then disappeared.

Ron's mouth fell open. "What the-?"

Harry just gaped. He was quite sure that Gryffindor should not have been able to do that. Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers. Rowena looked at them curiously.

"You do have Apparition, do you not?"

"Well yeah, but you can't Apparate within Hogwarts, everyone knows that." Hermione gave a soft snort, but Hufflepuff just shook her head.

"You cannot, but as Founders, we do have certain advantages." At their blank looks, she elaborated. "Salazar wrote the wards of this school, and so was able to manipulate them to allow himself, and us, to Apparate at will within their boundaries." She gave a slight smile. "It certainly makes things easier."

Ravenclaw nodded, but she was still frowning. "And the knowledge of how to do so was supposed to be passed on to future headmasters."

Hermione shook her head. "I've never seen Professor Dumbledore do it. I don't know about any earlier ones, but I doubt it. It was thought to be impossible for anyone."

The two Founders looked at each other. "Yet another things that has been forgotten," Hufflepuff murmured.

Rowena nodded, but her reply was interrupted by Gryffindor's abrupt reappearance. He looked rather pleased with himself, and a moment later Slytherin appeared next to him. There was a scowl on his face, but he bowed politely towards Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

"My apologies," he said. "I lost track of time."

Helga sighed. "Salazar..."

"I know, I know." He slumped into the seat opposite Harry, his brooding gaze fixed on the table. Ravenclaw studied him.

"Still no luck?"

Slytherin ran a hand through his hair. "I've tried salamander blood, pomegranate juice, moonwater... Nothing is able to react with both the leeches and the fluxweed."

"I thought you said the salamander blood was promising."

"It was, right up until it blew a hole in the desk."

Godric nodded. "So that's what that was. I did wonder. What about knotgrass?"

Salazar shook his head. "It won't be able to neutralise the bicorn horn later." He paused for a moment. "Unless I add lacewings. They should be able to counteract those effects. It will add a good three weeks to the brewing time, but that can't be helped." His eyes unfocused as he worked through the reaction. "Yes. That might do it."

Harry glanced round, and was glad to see Ron looking as stunned as he felt. He had never seen anyone create a potion like this. Hermione, however, was studying Slytherin with a rather curious look on her face. Harry turned back in time to see Slytherin shake his head.

"Promising indeed. I shall have to investigate." He made as if to rise, only to be stopped by Gryffindor's hand on his shoulder.

"Not before you eat something," he said sternly.

Slytherin glared at him. "Godric..." Godric just raised an eyebrow and he sighed. "Very well." He sat back down. Harry stared at the table, being very careful to conceal his grin. It seemed the Founders, despite their legendary status, were normal people after all. He also found himself warming to Slytherin a little more; he doubted the bigot he'd read about would have allowed himself to bullied into anything, even if it was for his own good. The slight gleam in the Founder's eye though, made him suspect he wasn't quite as irritated by the concern as he was pretending. The feeling was strengthened when Gryffindor caught his eye and gave a quick wink before sitting back between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

"Now then, shall we begin?"

The words had no sooner left his mouth than four house-elves appeared, each carrying a steaming bowl which they placed in front of the Founders. A moment later, three more appeared and did the same for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry glanced warily at Hermione, but though she looked indignant, she did not look inclined to start a debate with the Founders. At least, not while their relationship was still so young. Harry was under no illusions that she would continue to stay silent once the awe had finally worn off. For now though, he was just glad of some peace. Another house elf placed a mug by each plate, then all disappeared but for one standing next to Hufflepuff.

"Will that be all, Mistress?"

Hufflepuff smiled at him. "Yes, thank you Bren."

The house-elf beamed, bowed and disappeared. Hufflepuff turned to them. "Tuck in, my dears."

Harry needed no further urging. The smells coming from the bowl were enough to make his mouth water. He pulled the bowl towards him and found a rich stew, which proved simple, but more than enough to satisfy his rumbling stomach.

"Harry, may I ask you a question?"

Harry swallowed hastily and looked up. "Yes, Professor?"

Ravenclaw was studying him. "What exactly is that contraption on your face?"

Harry raised his hand to his glasses. "My glasses? They help me see." The Founders exchanged confused looks. "My eyesight's really bad, but the lenses in these help me see properly."

"How do they work?" asked Gryffindor. His eyes were bright with curiosity.

Harry shrugged. "I don't really know. It's more of a Muggle science than anything we study at Hogwarts."

"I think it has something to do with adjusting the light that enters the eye," said Hermione. "But I don't know any details."

"Most ingenious," Hufflepuff murmured.

Ravenclaw nodded, but Harry couldn't hep notice the scowl on Slytherin's face. Considering what they'd heard yesterday, he wasn't surprised by the negative reaction. He was slightly surprised to see that Gryffindor was also frowning.

"So you can only see while you are wearing them?"

Harry nodded. "I take them off and everything goes blurry."

The frown deepened. "That would put you at a considerable disadvantage in a duel. All your opponent would have to do would be to Summon or break them and they would effectively blind you."

Harry stiffened involuntarily. If Gryffindor had thought of that, he was willing to bet Voldemort and the Death Eaters would too. Ron looked equally alarmed.

"But he needs them to do anything."

Slytherin glanced at them. "Is there no way to correct your vision so that they are no longer necessary?"

Ron thought about it. "I think there are some potions that might help," he said slowly. "But they're expensive, and it takes a long time."

"There are some Muggle treatments too," said Hermione. "But they're quite risky. Most people just use glasses."

Harry stared down at his food. "Great. So I'm stuck with these."

Hufflepuff's brow furrowed. "Maybe not. I think I remember reading about a treatment developed by the Ancient Egyptians. I think it was in your library, Rowena."

Ravenclaw smiled. "Which one?"

Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Only you would ever have to ask that."

"Oh, I don't know," said Ron. His gaze flickered towards Hermione.

Hermione glared right back. "There is nothing wrong with having lots of books."

"Certainly not," said Ravenclaw firmly.

Hufflepuff smiled at the banter. "It was your family one, I believe."

Harry could hardly dare to believe it. "Would it fix my eyes?"

Hufflepuff sighed. "I do not know. I would have to examine it again. But we will see what we can do."

Ravenclaw nodded. "I was planning to visit next week. I can bring it back for you then."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

Gryffindor stirred. "In the meantime, let's see what we can do about these. Harry, could you pass me your glasses for a moment?"

Harry hesitated a moment, but if he couldn't trust Godric Gryffindor... He handed them over. There was a tap, and then Gryffindor placed them back in his hand.

"There."

Harry put them on and blinked. "What did you do?"

Gryffindor grinned. "Those glasses can no longer be broken, scratched, bent or Summoned. I also added a permanent Imperturbability Charm. It doesn't completely solve the problem, but it will make you a little more secure in a duel."

Harry stared at him for a moment before finding his voice. "That's brilliant. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Harry shook his head. No one back home had ever thought to do that, yet Gryffindor had recognised the possible danger and immediately taken steps to minimise it. "Why are you doing all this?"

The words slipped out before he could control himself. He heard Ron's sharp intake of breath, and could almost feel Hermione's glare, but Gryffindor just met his gaze steadily.

"Because you are our students. Your safety is our highest priority." His expression hardened. "Just as it should have been for the teachers in your own time."

Harry shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "It was for most of them."

"Apart from those who tried to kill you," said Slytherin pointedly. His light tone belied the anger in his eyes.

Gryffindor nodded, his piercing gaze landing on each of them in turn. "There may have been some changes for the better," he allowed. "But we would never have permitted the things you have endured. We are here to protect you, not the other way round. And we will do whatever is necessary to keep you from harm."

Had those words come from anyone else, Harry would have been more than a little sceptical. He had to save himself and others from those in authority too many times to be able to trust people who claimed to be there for him. But looking at Gryffindor, indeed, at all the Founders, he knew that they were not talking for the sake of it. These people would protect them with their lives if necessary. There was no doubt of that. Slowly he nodded.

"I'm sorry."

Ravenclaw shook her head. "Considering you circumstances, a certain amount of cynicism is understandable. But we are not like the teachers you have known in your time."

"We know," said Hermione quietly. "It just feels strange."

Hufflepuff's eyes glinted. "It should not. What can have happened?"

"I would give a great deal to know that," Slytherin murmured. He sighed. "But we may never know. All we can do it make the most of this opportunity."

Gryffindor nodded. "I quite agree." He picked up his spoon again. "And we cannot do that on an empty stomach."

Slytherin rolled his eyes, but there was a slight smile on his face as he turned back to his own meal. Harry followed suit, still lost in thought.

He still wasn't sure of his own feelings. Of all the things they would have to adapt to, new food, different customs, old magic, maybe the hardest would be learning to trust adults again. There were some people he trusted back home, but no one had ever been there all the time. No one had ever been able to keep him from getting hurt, so he had learned to depend only on himself and his friends. Accepting that these people could, and would, protect them was going to be difficult. He absently picked up his mug and took a gulp.

Only to burst into a fit of coughing as something that definitely wasn't pumpkin juice slid down his throat. Ron thumped him on the back.

"You all right, mate?"

Harry coughed again. "Fine," he rasped. He grabbed the mug and stared at it. "What is this?"

Gryffindor looked rather bemused. "Mead, made by Hengist. Are you not familiar with it?"

"Not exactly. What happened to pumpkin juice?"

Gryffindor frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"Of course," Hermione exclaimed. "Pumpkins are found in America, they won't be discovered for centuries."

Hufflepuff's eyes gleamed. "Fascinating. What exactly is a pumpkin?"

"It's a sort of sweet orange fruit. I've only had it at Hogwarts, but it's very popular in other countries. The juice is the most common drink at Hogwarts."

"But clearly not yet," said Harry. "What are we going to do?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "We're just going to have to get used to drinking this, aren't we?"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "You know we're underage."

"Underage?" Ravenclaw asked.

"You have to be a certain age to drink alcohol," Hermione explained. "17 in the wizarding word, and 18 in the Muggle world."

Slytherin shook his head. "There is nothing like that here. It is common for even young children to drink alcohol."

Ron grinned at her. "See?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know..."

Harry sighed. "It's just another one of those things we have to get used to." He took a second, more careful sip. It really wasn't as bad as he had first thought. "Try it, at least."

Hermione hesitated but eventually raised her mug. "My parents are going to kill me," she muttered.

Ravenclaw frowned. "That is a rather extreme reaction."

"I don't think she was being literal," said Hufflepuff.

"It's just an expression," Hermione assured them. She took a small sip and frowned. "This isn't bad."

"I should hope not," Gryffindor muttered. He looked at the three of them. "Will you be able to manage?" he asked seriously. "We can investigate other possibilities."

Harry glanced at the others. It would take some getting used to, but not much more than anything else. "I think we'll be fine." He grimaced. "I wonder how many more times this will happen."

Slytherin shot him a sympathetic look. "Under the circumstances, all three of you are managing very well." His gaze swept over them. "I am sure you will continue to adapt, and probably teach us a great deal in the process."

Ravenclaw smiled. "I quite agree." She glanced at Gryffindor. "Hermione has been telling me about some truly fascinating advances in Arithmancy."

Gryffindor's eyes gleamed. "Really? have they managed to finish Marcus Aurelius' third law yet?"

Slytherin sighed. "Here we go."

"You know you're going to be just as bad when it comes to new Runes translations."

Harry allowed himself a smile as the conversation washed over him. Living a thousand years in the past would not be easy but, with help, they would manage. And it was quite clear that they were going to get all the help they could ask for. Maybe this would not be as bad as he had thought.

Chapter 5: First Steps

Notes:

Thank you for all the kind comments; I'm glad people are enjoying this so far, and I hope you continue to do so.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. The food might not be as well flavoured as he was used to, and he still wasn't entirely sure what the meat was, but he had had much worse. It had helped that there had been plenty of it. In all honesty though, he could have been eating porridge and not cared, so absorbed was he in the conversation around him. He could say without a doubt that these were the most interesting dining companions he had ever had.

Gryffindor was easily the loudest of the four, his seemingly unconquerable good humour and genuine interest made it easy to relax around him. Ravenclaw was very nearly as vocal, with an endless supply of questions that Hermione was only too happy to answer. Hufflepuff soon proved herself the mediator as she gently smoothed the conversation over any awkward patches with the ease of long practice. Slytherin was more subdued, but his eyes sparkled as he listened to the discussion, and his dry comments had Harry struggling to keep from laughing. All in all, it was a most enjoyable meal.

Once the house-elves had cleared the last of the dishes, Slytherin turned his silver gaze on them.

"If you are all ready, we shall now continue with our assessment."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "Does that mean its Potions next?" Harry winced. His lack of enthusiasm was all too obvius.

Ravenclaw frowned at him. "Are there any subjects you do enjoy, Ron?"

Ron's ears flamed red. "The subject's fine; it's Snape that's the problem."

"You can say that again," Harry muttered.

Slytherin glanced between them, eyes narrowing. "Is he really that bad?"

Harry grimaced. "He knows his subject, but he can't teach to save his life. And he's biased against Gryffindors."

"He's biased against everyone," Ron grunted.

Gryffindor's expression darkened. "That is not acceptable. The teachers are supposed to be above such prejudices."

"Indeed," said Hufflepuff. She kept her tone level, but there was a steely glint in her eyes. "Who exactly is this teacher?"

"Professor Snape," said Harry. "He's the head of Slytherin." He regretted the words almost immediately as Slytherin's jaw tightened.

"Of course he is." He closed his eyes, and so missed the dismayed looks that passed between the other Founders.

Gryffindor sighed. "It is not your fault."

There was no humour in Slytherin's smile. "No. Just another reason for everyone to hate my house."

"He is a brilliant Potions Master," Hermione offered, but Slytherin shook his head.

"I do not care how talented he is; if he cannot treat all students equally, he is not fit to teach." He scowled. "Has Dumbledore not spoken to him about his behaviour?"

Ron snorted. "If he has, it hasn't made any difference. He's been told enough times; everyone except the Slytherins hates him."

"Has he taught you anything useful?" asked Hufflepuff. Harry caught a faint note of pleading in her voice and he didn't miss the way her gaze rested on Slytherin.

"Some," said Hermione. "He has very high standards."

Slytherin sighed. "That is something, I suppose." A faint glint entered his eyes. "Well then, maybe it is time for you to show me." He collected his staff from where it was leaning against the table and carefully pushed himself upright. Harry quickly joined him. Ron was more reluctant, but he stifled his protests when Hermione glared at him. Gryffindor glanced at them and smiled.

"I shall see you in an hour or two. Just do your best."

Hermione looked rather indignant. "Always."

Ravenclaw nodded approvingly. "I have no doubt of that." Harry bit his cheek to keep from grinning, but was surprised to see a brief look pass between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Hufflepuff just shook her head. Slytherin coughed and turned to Harry.

"Are you ready?"

Not really. "Yes, sir."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow and Harry felt himself blush, but the Founder just nodded to his friends before leading the way out of the room. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed.

To his surprise, Harry found his nerves rising as he followed Slytherin through the familiar corridors. He had never cared for Potions before, knowing that Snape would mark him harshly no matter what he did hadn't exactly inspired him to do his best, but now he actually found himself wanting to do well. Harry shook his head. He had never thought he would be worried about disappointing Salazar Slytherin of all people.

A minute later, they turned down the passage that led to the dreaded dungeons. Next to him, Ron shivered.

"I hate this place," he muttered. "Why do we have to have lessons down here anyway?" Harry shrugged.

"Many potions require a stable environment," Slytherin called, without breaking pace.

Ron's mouth fell open. "He heard that?"

"He still can." Ron winced, but when Slytherin glanced back, he seemed more amused than irritated.

"What do you mean a stable environment?" Harry asked.

Slytherin frowned. "Snape never told you?"

"It was in one of the textbooks we had to read," said Hermione.

"And what did this book say?"

"That some potions are more sensitive to temperature, humidity and pressure," she reported promptly. "It recommended situating a laboratory either away from the outer walls or underground."

Slytherin nodded. "Precisely. In this case, the latter was deemed more appropriate for various reasons." He continued before Harry could ask what he meant. "But I am glad your education has not been completely wasted."

Harry flushed. He had read that book but, unlike Hermione, he couldn't remember everything he read. "It was over a year ago," he muttered.

Slytherin glanced at him. "I do not expect you to remember everything." There was a glint in his eyes though that still made Harry feel awkward. He had a feeling Slytherin, nor any of the others, weren't going to expect anything less than their best. He glanced at Ron and caught the redhead studying Slytherin, a rather thoughtful expression on his face. Harry sighed. Hermione would be fine, but he and Ron had a lot of work to do.

He was jerked from his thoughts when Slytherin came to a halt.

"Here we are." He laid his hand against the door. The wood around his hand blazed silver for a moment, then swung open. Harry stared at it.

"What was that?"

"Some extra security. Many of the potions and ingredients I store can be extremely dangerous if used incorrectly. These wards will only release if they recognise my magic."

"What about the other Founders?" Hermione asked.

Slytherin shook his head. "They are the exception."

Somehow, Harry wasn't at all surprised.

The classroom was remarkably similar to Snape's. Several desks were arranged in rows down the centre of the room, and numerous cauldrons saw on another row of desks against the opposite wall. Above them, a set of cupboards held ingredients. Slytherin waved them to the front desk.

"Take a seat." They did as he asked as he moved round to stand in front of them. "Tell me how a typical lesson would go."

It hadn't been what Harry was expecting, but he answered the question readily. "Snape gives us the method he wants us to follow and tells us to brew it. At the end we either give him a sample, or leave it 'til the next lesson, and then he gives us homework."

Slytherin nodded. "I see. How much detail does he go into with regards to the potion before you begin?"

Ron snorted. "What detail?"

Slytherin frowned at him. "Safety precautions, the reasons behind the method, possible adaptations..."

Hermione shook her head. "He'll tell us the difficulty of the potion, and what it does. If we're working with new ingredients, he'll tell us what to do, and he'll warn us of any more unusual dangers, but he usually just lets us get on with it."

There was a long pause. "Are you telling me that all you have learned is how to follow a set of instructions?" There was a strange gleam in his eyes.

Harry frowned. "Well, yeah. What else is there?"

Slytherin let out a long breath. "What else is there? A whole world of possibilities, endless opportunities, secrets beyond measure, subtleties you can only dream of, and he reduces it to this!"

Harry started at the vehemence in his voice. Next to him, Ron's mouth fell open.

"What are you talking about?"

Slytherin closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered his temper. "Potions is about more than simply knowing how to brew properly," he said quietly. "You must understand the potion; how the properties of the ingredients cause them to interact with each other, how tiny changes such as number and direction of stirs can affect the process, the effect that basic factors such as temperature can have... Only then can you truly understand what you are doing, and only once you understand it can you develop and improve it." He shook his head. "What he's doing, this is cooking, not Potions."

Harry just stared at him. This was as different from Snape's lessons as it was possible to get. As reluctant as he was to admit it, he found his interest sparking. Looking through his textbooks before coming, he had been fascinated by the intricacies of potion making, but Snape's attitude in his first class had dampened his enthusiasm, and the tedium, not to mention blatant bias, in successive lessons had turned him off it completely. From the looks of things, Slytherin was equally dismayed. Hermione, however, was frowning.

"But all we have to do for the exams is know how to brew specific potions and their effects. We don't need to know anything else."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "So all you have to do is know enough to pass the exams, is that right?"

"No, but-"

"There is more to your education than merely passing your exams," he snapped. "You are supposed to be learning how to better yourselves to survive once you leave these walls. Not learn a set of formulae."

Hermione looked down, her cheeks blazing. Ron glared at the Founder.

"You don't have to yell. We're not the ones who made the system."

Slytherin's eyes softened slightly. "I know, and it is not you who is at fault here. Snape on the other hand..." His voice trailed off ominously.

"It's not really all him either," said Harry. He wasn't sure why he was defending the man, but he continued. "He has to teach enough to get us to pass everything."

Slytherin sighed. "He still should have been more thorough. It would not take a great deal more time to explain the reasons behind each step."

"Is it really that important?" asked Ron. "I mean, why do we need to know why we add the salamander blood before the fluxweed, or whatever?"

Slytherin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because there is a difference between memorising a set of instructions and actually understanding what you are doing," he said. "You would not prepare for a duel by learning a single attack pattern and refusing to deviate from it, would you?"

"Only if you wanted to get killed," Harry muttered.

Slytherin nodded. "You have to learn how to adapt your skills to the situation. You can only do that if you know what you are doing."

Harry didn't reply. It did make sense. On the other side, Hermione raised a tentative hand. Slytherin turned to her.

"Yes, Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed, but seemed to take courage from his tone. "How would you normally teach?"

"Well, first..." His voice trailed off and he gave a slight smile. "Why don't I just show you?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Yes, please."

"Hang on a minute," Ron interrupted. "I thought you were going to ask us stuff."

Slytherin nodded. "I was, but since your theoretical knowledge appears somewhat lacking, a practical lesson might be more useful."

Ron looked more than a little relieved, and Harry felt his own heart lift. He might not be great at theory, but he had always quite enjoyed brewing. At least, he had when Snape wasn't breathing down his neck. Hermione, however, looked rather disappointed. Slytherin nodded at the cauldrons stacked on the far desk.

"You will require a medium sized cauldron for this." He thought for a moment. "And for ingredients, leech juice, daisies, caterpillars, a Shrivelfig, and a rat spleen apiece."

Ron swallowed. "Say that again?" he asked weakly.

Seeing Slytherin frown, Harry said, "Snape usually writes everything on the blackboard."

The frown deepened. "Blackboard?"

Harry sighed. "Never mind." It seemed they were going to have to get used to paying close attention.

Slytherin held his gaze for a moment. "Another future innovation?"

Hermione nodded. "All the teachers use them to write things down for us to copy."

"I see. I am afraid things are a little different here."

Ron forced a smile. "We've noticed."

Slytherin's lips twitched. "I thought you might. Very well, listen again." He rattled off the list and looked round at them. "Are you familiar with those ingredients?"

"We've used all of them before," Harry assured him.

"Good. Can you give me an example?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Are we making a Shrinking Solution?"

Slytherin smiled. "I can see why Rowena spoke so highly of you." He ignored her furious blush as he continued. "We will indeed be brewing a Shrinking Solution today."

Harry allowed himself to relax slightly. Despite the disastrous lesson learning it, that potion was relatively easy to brew. Hopefully he wouldn't make too many mistakes. Feeling far more optimistic than he usually was in a Potions lesson, he went to collect his ingredients and equipment.

It took him a few minutes to find everything, but Slytherin directed him to the appropriate cupboards before he had to ask. He collected enough of everything for all three of them and returned to the desk, where Ron and Hermione were setting up three cauldrons. Harry dumped the stuff next to them.

"We're making one each, then?"

Slytherin nodded. "I need to see what you are capable of independently." He tilted his head to one

side. "Do you normally work together?"

Harry shook his head. "We work in pairs if the potion's a tricky one, but we've been working on our own more and more."

Slytherin nodded, but his attention was no longer on the question. Harry glanced sideways to find Hermione staring at her cauldron, a slight frown on her face.

"Are you all right?"

Hermione started and looked up. "Oh, I'm fine. It's just..." She broke off, cheeks tinging pink again.

Slytherin moved until he was opposite her. "What is the matter?"

She hesitated a moment, but whatever it was was important enough to override her shyness. "Could you tell me what these are made of?"

If Slytherin was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "Lead, all of them are." His eyes narrowed. "May I ask why?"

Hermione bit her lip. "It's just I remember reading something in one of my books..." Her voice trailed off, her blush deepening.

"Go on," Slytherin prompted gently.

Hermione looked up at that. "Well, they said that lead cauldrons were really dangerous," she said quickly. "Certain reactions would produce fumes that could be toxic and cause lots of horrible effects later in life."

Ron backed away from his cauldron, eyes widening in alarm. "Seriously?"

Hermione nodded, her gaze apprehensive as she watched for Slytherin's reaction. To Harry's surprise though, Slytherin looked more thoughtful than annoyed.

"It is a possibility," he admitted. "I have heard of some Potions Masters falling ill over time with similar complaints, but I had not realised the cauldrons were the cause." He nodded at her. "The warning is very much appreciated."

Hermione blushed again, this time with pleasure. "It's fine."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Harry. "You're not going to keep using them, are you?"

Slytherin shook his head. "Not in their current state." He studied the cauldrons thoughtfully. "It should be possible to create a spell to prevent the lead from affecting the potion, though ensuring it does not affect the properties of the potion may be more complicated." He was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I will discuss it with Rowena, and see what we can do." He gave them a slightly rueful smile. "It appears we will not be brewing any potions just yet."

Harry couldn't prevent his shoulders from slumping in relief.

"So, is that it?" asked Ron.

Slytherin tapped his fingers on his staff. "There is little point in testing your theoretical knowledge if you have not been taught anything," he admitted. "However..."

"Yes?" asked Hermione.

Slytherin studied the three of them for a moment, his silver eyes narrowing. "Yesterday, you expressed an interest in learning Occlumency. Do you still wish to do so?"

Harry grimaced. Those lessons had not been fun. "Not really, but I can't let Voldemort keep planting visions in my head," he said.

Slytherin nodded and turned to Ron and Hermione. "And the two of you?"

"If Harry's learning, we want to too," said Ron firmly. "I mean, it can't be a bad thing, can it?"

A smile touched Slytherin's lips. "Indeed, it is a most useful skill to have."

Harry hardly dared to believe his luck. "So you'll teach us?" If he could learn to defend himself, Voldemort wouldn't be able to trap him again. Or not so easily at least.

Slytherin nodded. "I can introduce you to the necessary meditations," he said. "But building your defences will require individual tuition, and I will have to discuss it with the others."

"Why?" asked Hermione. "Can't we all just learn together?"

Slytherin shook his head. "Occlumency is an extremely difficult skill to learn. Everyone's minds are different, and so each person must be taught in a way that makes them comfortable. Not to mention the fact that the first few sessions in particular are likely to be emotionally draining."

Harry thought back to his own Occlumency sessions and shuddered. The thought of anyone else being there after reliving those particular memories was not a pleasant one.

"Yeah, individually sounds good." Ron and Hermione both looked surprised and he shrugged. "It feels strange," he said shortly. "Trust me; you don't want anyone else around."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but she turned back to Slytherin. "Will you be teaching all of us?"

Slytherin shrugged. "Possibly. Godric and Helga would also be capable of doing so."

"What about Professor Ravenclaw?"

"Rowena does not approve of Legilimency," Slytherin explained. "She understands its uses, but does not feel comfortable using it herself, even to teach."

Hermione looked slightly disappointed, but she nodded.

"So, what are these meditation things we have to do?" asked Ron.

"Snape said I had to clear my mind," said Harry. "Make it blank and empty or something."

Slytherin nodded. "Concentration is essential to succeeding in mastering this discipline," he said. "Distractions, especially strong emotions, create weaknesses that can be exploited by a skilled enemy."

Harry sighed. "I was never very good at it," he admitted.

Slytherin held his gaze. "Your feelings towards your teacher will likely not have helped matters. It is of no matter; we shall be starting from the beginning."

"Thanks." Snape never had. From the way Slytherin's eyes narrowed, Harry guessed he suspected something, and quickly changed the subject. "What do we have to do?"

Slytherin waved his hand, and the cauldrons and ingredients flew back to their original places. He didn't seem to notice their stunned expressions as he considered his words.

"Firstly, you all need to relax."

Easier said than done. Harry hadn't been relaxed for hours, and Ron and Hermione weren't much better off. Slytherin sighed.

"You will not be able to do this if you are so tense," he said mildly. "Closing your eyes may make it easier."

Harry did as he suggested, and it was indeed easier to concentrate without having to worry about what anyone else was doing. Slytherin continued to speak, his soft voice carrying effortlessly through the silence.

"Deep breaths. Relax. Recognise your emotions and let go of them."

The cadences were almost hypnotic, and Harry found himself relaxing even without meaning to. Letting go of his emotions, though, proved to be an entirely different story. Try as he might, he just could not release all the stress, let alone the rage and fear, of the past couple of days.

"Concentrate on your breathing. Try not to get distracted."

Harry pushed aside his frustration and concentrated on the movements of his breath. In and out. In and out. He could hear Ron shuffling next to him, and found himself imagining the look of concentration on his face. The thought made him smile, and he quickly refocused on breathing. In and out. He wondered if Hermione was having any more luck.

"All right, that will do."

Harry opened his eyes with a start. He had almost forgotten what was going on. Slytherin tilted his head to the side as he studied them.

"Thoughts?"

Ron frowned. "It was weird," he said. "I kept getting distracted."

"Same here," said Hermione, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"It can take some getting used to. It will become easier with practice."

Harry sighed. Their first afternoon, and they already had homework. Slytherin frowned at them.

"If you cannot master this, you will struggle when it comes to mastering Occlumency," he said pointedly. "You will not be able to succeed overnight; it will take weeks, possibly months, of dedication and effort. If you do not feel you will be able to manage, I will understand, but if you persevere, the rewards will be invaluable." His expression softened slightly. "And I do believe that all three of you have the potential to master this."

Harry was silent. While he recognised the importance of learning to shield his mind, he had all but given up hope that he would be able to do so. His failure just now had not helped. Yet Slytherin seemed to think he could do it. The Founder gave a small smile at the expression on his face.

"Occlumency is a challenge for everyone," he said quietly. "But if you are willing to work hard, there is no reason why you should not be able to learn it."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, and saw his own determination mirrored in their faces. He turned back to Slytherin.

"What do we have to do?"

"Set aside some time each day to practice," said Slytherin. "Learn to control your emotions and order your thoughts. Once you have become more comfortable with that, we will begin teaching you to actively defend yourselves."

"Will the same person be teaching all of us?" asked Ron.

Slytherin shrugged. "I am not yet certain. Over the next few days, we will determine which of us can teach each of you most effectively." He looked round at them. "Do any of you have any questions?"

Harry shook his head, but Hermione raised her hand. Slytherin nodded at her.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"You said this could take months."

"It is possible."

Hermione bit her lip. "You think we'll be here for that long then?"

Months... Harry's heart sank. Weeks, he could accept, but months? Ron had gone pale. Slytherin sighed.

"I do not know."

"But there must be something you can do," Ron protested.

Slytherin shook his head. "We will do everything we can, but we are not miracle-workers. You are asking us to develop a completely new field of magic, and it will take some time."

Harry took a deep breath. "We'll just have to make the most of it then." He forced a smile. "Starting with learning Occlumency."

Ron's face settled into a stubborn frown. "Yeah, all of us."

"Agreed." Hermione's brown eyes gleamed with determination.

Slytherin's gaze travelled over them. "Remarkable." He smiled, and Harry was struck by the difference it made. "We will teach you all we can."

"Including Potions?"

Slytherin laughed. "Including Potions, once I have developed a way to avoid the affects you mentioned. I do not expect it will take too long."
Harry frowned. "But won't you have to develop a completely new spell?"

"Possibly."

"But inventing new spells takes months," Ron objected. "How are you going to do it so quickly?"

Slytherin looked bemused at that. "It rather depends on the spell. Some can take as little as a few days, others several years." He smiled suddenly. "Rowena, in particular, rarely takes more than a week once she has set her mind to something." He nodded at the cauldrons. "Since I already know the cause and consequences of the problem, creating a spell to counteract them is not as much of a challenge."

Hermione just shook her head. "Incredible."

Slytherin gave a slight shrug. "It is a matter of practice, rather than anything else. And if that proves impractical, it should not be difficult to find an alternative material."

"Do you think you could show us how to create spells?" asked Harry. It sounded fascinating.

Slytherin frowned. "Creating spells is very different to performing them. Is it a field regularly taught at Hogwarts in your time?"

"There's a class for seventh years who have achieved high marks in Arithmancy, Charms and Transfiguration," said Hermione. "It's supposed to be one of the hardest courses they offer."

"With good reason," Slytherin murmured. He shook his head. "If your Charms and Transfiguration improve, we will consider it, but it is unlikely. Without Arithmancy, the theory would be extremely difficult. Besides, we have more important matters to attend to. And speaking of which, I believe it is time for you to meet with Godric."

Ron brightened immediately. "Duelling?"

"Indeed."

Harry grinned. "Brilliant."

"Where do we go?" asked Hermione. She looked considerably less enthusiastic.

"The Armoury," Slytherin answered. "I will show you."

Once they were out in the hallway, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Are you all right?"

She sighed. "I'm not looking forward to this."

"You'll be fine. You were brilliant in the DA."

"Yes, but this is a bit above the DA."

Harry snorted. "Which just means we're all going to look equally bad."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "I very much doubt that."

Ron grimaced. "You didn't see what some of our teachers were like."

"Look at it this way," said Harry. "We can't be any worse than Lockhart."

"Lockhart?"

"Our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in second year," Harry explained. "He was an idiot."

"He tried to start a Duelling Club, but Snape knocked him out with one spell," Ron added. "It was brilliant."

"And Dumbledore hired him? What was he thinking?"

"He didn't have any choice," said Harry quickly. "There weren't any other applicants."

"Because of this curse?" At their nods, he frowned. "This is worse than I thought."

"Professor Lupin was good," said Hermione. "He taught us lots about different types of Dark creatures." Harry decided that mentioning that that included a practical lesson with a werewolf would not be the best plan.

Slytherin sighed. "I am glad to hear it, but I still wish he had been the rule, rather than the exception."

A few minutes, and several flights of stairs later, he came to a halt.

"Here we are." He pushed open the door. Harry and Ron exchanged excited grins and followed.

Harry had been in the Armoury before, every student had. It was a gloomy room, full broke equipment, and thick with dust. Hermione had told them it had fallen out of use with the declining popularity of duels. Here, in this time, it was another matter entirely.

The room was massive; easily three times the size of a regular classroom. Rows of weaponry hung in racks or on the walls, every one of them gleaming brightly and ready to be picked up and used. Targets and training posts were spread around the room, along with other equipment Harry couldn't put a name to. He heard Hermione draw in a sharp breath behind him and understood. This wasn't somewhere where they would learn to duel like elegant young purebloods. Here they would be taught to fight, and kill, and survive. Harry shivered, but he held his ground. This was what he needed to learn.

In a clear space in the centre of the room stood Godric Gryffindor. He had evidently just finished an exercise of his own; many of the targets bore scorch marks, and several others had chunks missing. One was still burning. Slytherin merely raised an eyebrow.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Gryffindor extinguished the target and turned to him. "Practice." Another wave and all the targets returned to their original condition. "You are early."

Slytherin nodded. "It appears their theoretical knowledge is somewhat lacking."

Harry grimaced. "Snape wasn't a great teacher."

"That would be putting it mildly," Slytherin muttered.

Gryffindor rested a hand on his shoulder. "They will learn," he said quietly. "Besides, what about their practical skills?"

Slytherin sighed. "I did not get the opportunity to examine them. Hermione informed me that the fumes produced by lead cauldrons can have rather adverse effects on one's health."

"Is that so?" He glanced at Hermione, who nodded.

"Many Potions Masters suffered in later life. A few even developed serious mental disorders."

Gryffindor nodded thoughtfully. "I see." His green eyes gleamed suddenly. "That actually explains a great deal."

Harry choked back a laugh as Slytherin glared at his friend. "Hilarious," he said flatly.

"I thought so."

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. If you would excuse me, I should start developing a way to preserve my remaining sanity."

"Is it not a little late for that?"

"Are you really one to talk?"

Gryffindor grinned as Harry and Ron muffled sniggers. "I see your point." His expression abruptly turned serious again. "But I am very glad we found out about this."

"As am I." He nodded to Hermione. "You have our thanks."

"And mine too," Gryffindor added.

Hermione's cheeks blazed pink. "You're welcome," she mumbled.

Slytherin smiled at her and turned to Gryffindor. "I must inform Helga. She will need to check the students for warning signs when they return."

Gryffindor nodded. "You too, I expect. You spend more time brewing than the rest of us put together."

Slytherin grimaced, but the glint in Gryffindor's eyes seemed to keep him from arguing. "Very well." He nodded to the trio. "Good luck." His gaze rested on Harry for a moment, before he turned and strode from the room.

Gryffindor shook his head and turned back to them. "Now then, shall we begin?"

"Are you really going to teach us to duel?" asked Ron.

"I said I would, did I not?" He smiled. "Of course, first we must assess your Charms knowledge."

Ron's shoulder slumped. "Do we have to? I mean," he added hastily, as Gryffindor raised an eyebrow, "surely it's more important to teach us how to fight?"

"And what makes you think that Charms cannot be used to fight?"

Ron stared at him. "Huh?"

"Combat spells are effective, but they are also predictable," Gryffindor explained. "The greater your spell repertoire, the greater your chances of being able to take your opponent off guard."

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense."

"Good. Now, can any of you give me an example of when a basic charm might come in useful?"

A memory flashed into Harry's head and he grinned. "You could use a Levitation Charm to hit an opponent with something lying around."

"Excellent, Harry."

"Hey, that was my idea," Ron complained, but he was grinning.

Gryffindor glanced between them. "Excuse me?"

Harry shook his head. "An incident in first year. It's not important."

Gryffindor paused, clearly remembering the discussion on their first year, but after a moment he shook his head. "Very well. Another use?"

"Silencing Charms," Hermione offered. "Your opponent wouldn't be able to cast the spell."

"Indeed, though he could overcome that were he sufficiently skilled at non-verbal magic." He frowned slightly. "Rowena mentioned that you had not covered that."

"We haven't," said Hermione. "We're supposed to start it next year. Professor Ravenclaw did say that we might be able to start when we could prove we could do the basics."

Gryffindor grinned. "Excellent. It is an invaluable skill in battle." He turned to Ron. "So, can you think of a useful charm?"

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know..." He frowned and looked up. "Maybe a Banishing Charm? To knock them back?"

Gryffindor nodded. "That would work. Well done, all of you."

Harry felt a smile spread across his face. He really hadn't wanted to look stupid in front of Godric Gryffindor. Ron and Hermione looked equally relieved. He started as Gryffindor clapped his hands.

"All right then. Now for the more interesting part."

Harry stared at him. "What interesting part?"

Gryffindor grinned. "The best way to learn is through practical experience. So we're going to have a quick duel."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "But what about testing our Charms knowledge?"

"I am going to test your Charms knowledge," he said. "But there is no point in only being able to perform spells under controlled conditions. Duelling will allow me to assess your spell casting, you tactical knowledge, and your ability to improvise all at the same time." He looked round at them all, his expression becoming serious. "I know this is not what you expected, but at times you will be forced into situations that you are not prepared for. Just do your best, and do not worry about how you do. Whatever happens, I will help you to improve."

Harry swallowed. It made sense, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. Still, they had asked to be taught. He nodded and pulled out his wand.

"I'll go first." He heard Hermione give a sigh of relief. Duelling had never been her favourite part of DA meetings. Gryffindor nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, Harry." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "Could the two of you stand to one side, please? And pay attention. Take the opportunity to study how the two of us fight." The two of them nodded and backed off and he turned back to Harry. "We will need to put some space between us too."

Harry shuffled back a few paces. "Is this all right?"

From across the room, Gryffindor nodded. "That will be fine. Are you ready?"

"Yeah." He frowned. "What about your wand?"

Gryffindor shook his head. "So you haven't covered wandless magic either."

"Hardly anyone can do wandless magic," Harry protested. "And even then, only really simple stuff." He'd certainly never seen anyone try to duel without a wand before.

Gryffindor frowned. "Strange. No matter." He gave a polite bow. Harry forced back a shiver as memories of the graveyard flooded his mind. This situation was nothing like that. He bowed back.

Gryffindor's teeth gleamed white as he grinned. "Begin."

Harry didn't waste time. "Expelliarmus!"

The jet of red light sped towards its target, but Gryffindor merely stepped to one side, and the light passed harmlessly. Harry scowled, but tried again.

"Stupefy!"

Again Gryffindor dodged with no more concern than he would a fly.

"Expelliarmus! Impedimenta!"

These Gryffindor deflected with a wave of one hand, but he still made no move to attack. Growing steadily more frustrated, Harry sent a barrage of spells at the impassive wizard. None of them made contact. He tried again, varying his spells and trying to dodge to come from different angles, but each one was blocked effortlessly. He was so busy trying to think of a new tactic that he almost missed the red light heading in his direction.

Harry darted to one side, and felt a glow of satisfaction as it shot past his head. Unfortunately, it only lasted a second before his wand flew out his hand.

"What the-?"

Gryffindor strolled over. "You dodged into the path of a second spell," he explained. To Harry's dismay, he wasn't even breathing heavily. Harry felt his face heat up and he looked away. Gryffindor had taken his strongest attacks without even turning a hair. Not even against Voldemort had he felt so useless.

"That was quite good."

Harry stared at him. "Good? I never touched you!"

Gryffindor's face creased into a smile. "Lad, I've been fighting Dark wizards since I was nine years old. I've learned how to avoid getting hit."

"But you made it look so easy."

Gryffindor gave a slight shrug. "I do have a couple of decades of experience on you." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "For someone who has never had a proper duelling lesson, you did remarkably well."

Harry looked up at him. "You're not just saying that, are you?"

"What good would that do?" He shook his head. "You did do very well. Your spells were accurate and powerful, and you were able to adapt when you realised that your tactics weren't working."

"I still lost."

Green eyes gleamed with amusement. "Did you think you were going to win on your first attempt?"

Harry felt his face heat up. "Of course not."

"Then do not worry about it. You will improve with practice."

Harry struggled for a moment, torn between pride and relief. "Thank you." He hesitated. "So where did I go wrong?"

Gryffindor smiled, giving Harry the feeling that he'd passed some sort of test. "You have a very limited range of spells; I only counted six different ones during the course of the entire duel. It makes your attacks predictable. You could also work on your tactics; you attacked without any sort of plan, though I must say your improvisation skills compensated for that. Although," he tapped Harry on the head, "you must learn to control your temper. When you started attacking wildly, you became less focused on your surroundings, and made it easy to trap you."

Harry nodded. Looking back on the duel, everything he said was obvious. "Can you help me with that?"

"Yes." He paused for a moment, expression oddly thoughtful. "You do have a lot of promise, Harry. Work hard and you will give those Death Eaters cause to be very nervous indeed."

Harry grinned. "Thank you."

Gryffindor smiled. "You are welcome. Now, go and rest while I see to the others." He raised his voice. "Ron, you're next."

Harry was only too happy to take his advice. He clapped Ron on the shoulder as he passed.

"Good luck, mate," he muttered. He was going to need it. Ron nodded tightly, his face slightly green. Harry sighed and shuffled over to where Hermione was waiting.

"Harry, are you all right."

Harry gave a small smile. "I'm fine."

"I can't believe it. He doesn't even seem a little bit tired. And to do all that wandlessly..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head.

Harry slumped down against the wall, still trying to catch his breath. "Yeah. He's good."

"It's not really surprising of course; he was said to be one of the best duellists of all time, but even so-"

"Hey look, they're starting," Harry interrupted.

Hermione's attention immediately switched to Ron, who still looked pale, but determined. Gryffindor must have had a word with him, for he launched into an attack without hesitating.

Harry watched with interest. Ron seemed to have taken Gryffindor's tactic against him to heart, and several times aimed spells slightly to the side of where Gryffindor was standing in an attempt to catch him off guard. Unfortunately, it was working about as well as Harry's strategy, and it wasn't long before Ron's wand too went flying through the air. Ron's shoulders slumped.

"Bloody hell."

"Language," said Gryffindor mildly.

Ron's ears flamed red. "Sorry."

"Do not worry about it. Like Harry, you actually did very well."

Ron snorted. "You beat me quicker than you did Harry."

"Only because I had seen all that I needed to." He tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "You proved that you were able to observe by using my own tactics against me, and your traps were well thought out on the whole."

"Didn't do much good though," Ron mumbled.

Gryffindor shook his head. "No, but it is a good starting point. You do need to work on your improvisation; you kept doing the same thing even when you saw it wasn't working. And, like Harry, you need to widen your range of spells."

Ron sighed. "Yeah, thought so."

Gryffindor retrieved his wand and held it out to him. "Do not be disheartened," he said quietly. "You will improve."

"Thanks." He straightened and looked over to where Harry and Hermione were sitting. "Guess it's your turn, Hermione."

Hermione immediately went pale. Harry patted her arm.

"Don't worry about it," he muttered. "You can't do much worse than us."

She gave a shaky smile. "I'm not so sure."

Gryffindor smiled at her. "Well, we won't know until we try."

Hermione sighed, but stood up. "All right."

"Good luck," said Ron. He came over and slumped down next to Harry as Hermione made her way over to Gryffindor. "That was tough."

Harry nodded. He had never expected to win, but he had thought that all their training would have proved a bit more effective than this.

"So you weren't exaggerating when you said how good he was."

Ron snorted. "Not likely. Charlie used to idolise him; said he was virtually undefeated, but I always thought he was making it up." He grimaced. "Looks like he was right."

"And he's going to teach us," Harry murmured. It was a staggering thought.

Ron's expression turned dreamy. "Can you imagine the look on Malfoy's face if we duelled when we get back? We'd smash him. Or – What the hell is she doing?"

Harry was too surprised to answer. Hermione had cast a spell to turn the floor in front of her to ice, and for a moment, Gryffindor looked like he was about to lose his balance. Then he made a quick gesture with one hand and the ice melted instantly. Ron groaned, but the Founder wasn't finished. Another gesture and the water became a thick mist that completely cloaked the combatants from view.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded.

Harry opened his mouth, but a moment later, the mist cleared to reveal Hermione standing frozen, her wand held against her neck by the motionless Founder beside her.

For a long minute, nobody dared to move, then Gryffindor chuckled and stepped back.

"Excellent, Hermione," he said cheerfully. "Very well done." He handed the wand back.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. "Th-thank you."

"What the hell was that?"

Gryffindor's grin widened at Ron's shout. "That, my young friend, is what I meant when I stated the advantages of having an extensive spell repertoire. Hermione was able to use a basic Freezing Spell to alter the field to her advantage." He smiled at her. "Most creative."

Hermione blushed. "Thank you."

"Although I am curious as to why you did not take advantage of my distraction."

"Well, it wouldn't be very fair."

For the first time, Gryffindor looked completely nonplussed. "I beg your pardon."

Hermione's cheeks darkened. "I just thought it wouldn't be very honourable."

"Is she serious?" Ron muttered.

"Apparently."

Gryffindor shook his head. "Were we in a formal duel, your actions would be commended. However," his voice hardened slightly. "I am not here to teach you to defeat nobles, I am here to teach you how to survive. And to do that, you cannot afford to be fair. If you cannot make the most of every opportunity, then you will die, for your enemies will certainly not be so accommodating."

Hermione looked down. "I am sorry."

Gryffindor's eyes softened, and he laid a hand on her shoulder. "As am I. But you must understand that if you enter a duel to risk your life, you cannot afford mercy." He gave a sad smile. "Believe me, I know."

Hermione glanced up at that. "Did you ever do things like this?"

Gryffindor laughed. "If you mean mistakes, plenty of them. The same one you did in fact." His laughter faded. "And I had to learn the hard way."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I understand."

Harry did too. The Founder's words had startled him, and he still wasn't entirely comfortable with what had been said, but he did understand. The battle in the Ministry, brief as it was, had shown him that the Death Eaters wouldn't take it easy on them just because they were children. They would still be willing to maim, torture or kill. Harry knew they wouldn't win against opponents like that by playing fair. Still, it was difficult to take in, and judging by the looks on his friends' faces, he wasn't the only one. Gryffindor looked round at them all.

"I am sorry," he said quietly. "But you must understand the reality of the situation. You will not win this war with Stunning Spells, and there will be no one to intercede at first blood. You cannot afford to hesitate when your life, and the life of a friend is at risk." He was silent for a moment, lost in a memory, but shook his head. "But there will be time for that later. That aside Hermione, you performed extremely well." He smiled. "I certainly do not have the same criticisms as to your spell range."

"But I'm not as good at improvising as Harry," Hermione objected. "I did get confused when you made the mist."

Gryffindor nodded. "And that is something you will need to work on. You also need to develop some strategies; you had several good ideas, but were unable to follow up effectively. On the whole though," he looked round at them and smiled. "I am very impressed. From your descriptions of your Defence teachers, I was rather fearing the worst."

Ron gave a small smile. "You can thank Harry for that. He taught us most of it."

"Did he now?"

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. "I helped a bit," he mumbled.

Gryffindor smiled. "More than a bit I think." To Harry's relief, he changed the subject. "Now then, what about your other Duelling skills? I hope Harry hasn't had to teach those too."

Hermione frowned. "What other duelling skills?" Ron looked equally confused.

The meaning of the weapons hanging on the walls suddenly became very clear to Harry.

"Wait, you mean with swords and stuff?"

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "'Swords and stuff?'"

"Are you serious?" Ron exclaimed. "You actually fight with them?"

"Of course we do. Considering most people wear a sword, it is only practical to be able to defend yourself against one." He tilted his head to one side. "I assume from your reactions that this is no longer the case."

Harry nodded. "No one's used swords for centuries," he said. "I don't think wizards use any weapons other than wands."

Gryffindor frowned. "Strange. A wand and a sword used in tandem can be highly effective." He shook his head. "No matter. It may be worth learning the basics while you are here though. If you do happen to get into a duel, you will need to be able to defend yourself from that sort of attack."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Wicked!"

Harry nodded furiously. "Yes!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys."

Gryffindor smiled at her. "They are useful skills to have," he said. "Not even Rowena would argue with that."

"I know, but I'm not going to be strong enough to use one of those things."

"I would not expect you to, but there are other weapons."

She looked at him. "Such as?"

Gryffindor shook his head. "We will discuss it another time. None of you are in any condition to start training now."

He wasn't wrong there. They had been using magic for most of the day, and the Founders certainly hadn't been taking it easy on them. Harry's limbs felt like lead and he was beginning to feel rather hungry again. Next to him, Ron was covering a yawn with one hand, and Hermione had dark shadows under her eyes. Gryffindor nodded to himself.

"Come. You look like you could use some food."

"I certainly wouldn't say no," Harry agreed.

Gryffindor laughed. "I thought not. It is a little early, but you have done a great deal of magic today."

"You can say that again," said Ron. "I haven't felt this knackered since the Transfiguration O.W.L."

"Which you wouldn't have found so hard if you'd revised when I told you," Hermione pointed out.

"I did revise."

"Yes, the evening before."

"It still counts."

"And if we both manage to pass, then what's the problem?" asked Harry.

Hermione folded her arms with a huff. "Because you could do much better."

"Agreed."

The trio jumped. Lost in the familiar argument, they had almost forgotten that Gryffindor was present. He was studying them, his usually cheerful expression serious.

"Sir?"

Gryffindor sighed. "It does not sound like you are making the most of your education."

Harry wanted to sink into the floor. He was so used to Hermione's nagging that it went straight over his head now, but this was Godric Gryffindor, and he was disappointed in them. Ron's ears were brighter than he had ever seen them, and he was thankful that Hermione had the sense to stay quiet. Gryffindor continued, his voice stern.

"You have been given an opportunity that many never will. You are intelligent and resourceful, and you could be truly great. However, you will not become so unless you work for it. Make the most of the knowledge your teachers have, take advantage of the resources you have access to, and you could do so much more. Do you expect to defeat Voldemort by not studying? You should be learning all you can."

Harry stared at the floor. Looking back, it suddenly seemed stupid. Tom Riddle had been a genius while at school, yet Harry's grades had never been much higher than average. This wasn't the way to defeat him. Gryffindor's gaze softened as he took in their glum expressions.

"You still have time," he said quietly. "You have been given a unique opportunity here. I hope you will make the most of it."

"We will," Harry answered. "You can count on that." He glanced at Hermione and attempted a smile. "Sorry, Hermione. We should have listened to you a bit more."

"A lot more," Ron agreed. "Sorry."

She smiled at them. "It's fine. We're going to learn a lot more now than I did from books anyway."

Gryffindor smiled at them. "That is more like it. Maintain that attitude, and you will go far indeed."

Harry nodded. "We'll try. It's just sometimes..." He broke off, but Gryffindor understood.

"There are often many more entertaining things than studying." At their expressions, he laughed. "I was a boy once too."

Harry found that hard to imagine, and soon stopped trying. "We'll do our best."

"That is all we ask. But not on an empty stomach," he added as Harry's gave a low growl.

Ron didn't even try to hide his relief. "Sounds good."

Gryffindor began to make his way towards the door. "Come. Let us see what we can find."

Harry didn't say much as they made their way back towards the Great Hall. Hermione had drawn Gryffindor into a spirited discussion about Charms theory, while Ron interjected various questions on their uses in battle, but Harry didn't feel like talking. The accusation that he wasn't working as hard as he could had hit home, more so since it was true. He sighed; Quidditch and chess, fun as they were, were not going to help him win a war. So lost in thought was he that he didn't notice the door opening just ahead, and walked straight into the person leaving.

"Sorry," he began, but then froze as he found himself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes. The owner of which, though, was currently glaring at him.

"Excuse me."

Harry scarcely noticed her frosty tone. The girl's dark hair and eyes contrasted sharply with her pale skin, and he felt his stomach do the awkward flip he had come to associate with Cho. She didn't look much older than him, but her haughty demeanour made her seem far more mature.

"Are you not going to apologise?"

Harry realised his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it again. "Sorry, I was distracted." Her eyes narrowed, and he realised with a sinking feeling that that was not going to be enough. Unfortunately, his mind chose that moment to go completely blank.

"Helena."

The girl turned, her frown relaxing slightly. "Good afternoon, Uncle."

Gryffindor moved towards them, Ron and Hermione just behind him. Both were openly curious.

"Helena, may I introduce Harry, Ron and Hermione. They will be staying with us for the foreseeable future."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," said Hermione tentatively.

Helena did not look impressed. "I see."

"They are our guests," said Gryffindor pointedly.

"Indeed." Her imperious gaze swept over them. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

Harry saw Ron bristle at her tone, but Gryffindor just sighed. "Helena, I believe your mother was looking for you."

Helena's eyes flashed, but she dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I will go to her now."

"So, we will see you around, I guess," said Harry.

Helena spared him the briefest of glances. "I suppose so." She made a curtsey to Gryffindor and swept back along the corridor. Harry watched until she turned the corner.

"What was her problem?" Ron demanded. His face was flushed and his hands had clenched into fists.

"She was rather abrupt," said Hermione quietly.

Gryffindor rubbed his eyes. "Please excuse her behaviour. Her father was killed a few years back, and she has struggled to adjust."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Helena... That was Professor Ravenclaw's daughter?"

"Indeed it was." He looked at them. "She is likely to keep to herself, but if she does engage you, be careful. She certainly inherited her mother's brains."

"And her looks," said Harry without thinking, then flushed bright red as Gryffindor glanced at him. "I mean-"

"I understand," Gryffindor interrupted. "But considering your situation, certain interactions are not advisable." His tone was light, but there was a rather dangerous gleam in his eyes.

Harry nodded quickly. "I won't do anything."

"Good." He smiled as they entered the Great Hall. "I am afraid I must leave you, but the house-elves will see to your needs."

"Thank you," said Harry. His hunger had returned with a vengeance now that Helena had gone.

"It is my pleasure."

Once he was gone, Ron turned to Harry. "So, Helena?"

Harry flushed and made his way to the table, Ron's sniggers ringing in his ears.

Between his weariness, and Ron's incessant teasing, Harry barely noticed what he was eating, other than that it was hot and filling. It also made him extremely sleepy, and by the time they finished, all three of them were stifling yawns.

"Are you all right?"

Harry jumped as Slytherin's voice sounded behind him. "Professor." He made as if you get up, but Slytherin waved him back down.

"Never mind that."

Hufflepuff was standing next to him, and she frowned at them. "You look exhausted."

"We're not used to this much magic," Hermione admitted. "It is a little draining."

Slytherin frowned. "You do magic every day at school, do you not?"

"Well yeah, but not constantly," said Ron. "And half the lesson is usually theory and stuff."

"And there isn't usually any duelling," Harry added.

Hufflepuff nodded. "I can see the problem." She glanced at Slytherin. "We shall have to be careful until their stamina improves."

"Indeed."

Harry wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but on reflection, increased stamina certainly could not hurt. Though that didn't explain why they were here.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Slytherin shook his head. I merely wanted to inform you that I have set the Dream-Catchers around your room," he said. "You should not have any more trouble."

It took Harry a moment to reply. "Thank you."

Slytherin inclined his head in acknowledgment and turned to Ron and Hermione. "I took the liberty of setting them for the two of you as well. If any of you should have any difficulties, do not hesitate to let me know, and I will strengthen them for you."

Harry could only stare at him. True, he had promised to help, but he had never thought he would honour that promise so quickly, let alone go to such lengths for the others too."

"Thanks," he said again. "We appreciate it."

Slytherin smiled at him. "You are most welcome." He moved to the chair next to him. "So, how did you find duelling?" He chuckled at the chorus of groans he received.

"I felt the same way at first," said Hufflepuff. "But you will improve."

"Professor Gryffindor taught you?" asked Hermione.

"He taught all of us, save Salazar."

"And he taught me a great deal too," Slytherin remarked. He looked round at the three of them. "Work hard, and you will be surprised by how much you can learn."

Harry smiled at the thought. What with Duelling from Gryffindor, Occlumency from Slytherin, and whatever other skills they were going to learn, the people were back home were going to be in for a great many surprises.

Chapter 6: Setting Pieces in Motion

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury of Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry felt like whistling as he wandered through the corridors towards the Great Hall. Slytherin's Dream-Catchers had worked better than he had thought possible; for the first time in months, his sleep had been undisturbed by any dreams, and the difference it made was incredible. What with that, and the prospect of being taught by the Founders, his mood was positively buoyant. He was still grinning when he reached the Hall.

The room was deserted save for Hufflepuff, who was talking to one of the house-elves. Harry hovered in the doorway, unsure if he was intruding, but when Hufflepuff turned, she smiled at him.

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry crossed the room to join her. "Good morning, Professor." He nodded to the house-elf. "Hello, Tenby, was it?"

He half expected the creature to burst into tears, but it surprised him by just giving a deep bow. "It is, sir. Would young master like breakfast?"

Harry grinned. "Yes, please." Tenby disappeared with a crack and he turned back to find Hufflepuff studying him.

"You're in high spirits today."

Harry nodded as he took the seat opposite her. "It's been a while since I slept that well."

Hufflepuff's eyes softened in sympathy. "Are your dreams really that bad?"

Tenby reappeared then. Harry thanked him, and shrugged. "If it isn't a nightmare, it's this bloody scar."

"Please mind your language, Harry," she said, but her attention was on his forehead. "It is very strange that it reacts like that."

Harry frowned as the conversation from the day they arrived came back. "Do you really think there might be Dark magic in it?" The thought was more than enough to dampen his mood.

"It is possible. I will need to examine it to be sure, if that is all right."

Harry felt a sudden surge of panic. "Now?"

"It will not take long," Hufflepuff assured him. "And it should not be painful."

Harry hesitated at that, but there was no real point to delaying. "Fine. What do I have to do?"

"Just stay still." To Harry's confusion, she drew her wand from her robes.

"I thought you didn't need wands."

"We don't, but they are useful for spells requiring more delicacy or precision, such as this one."

"What does it do?"

"It will detect traces of residual magic," Hufflepuff explained. "And begin to identify their nature. It should only take a moment."

Harry had to resist the urge to flinch as she flicked the wand in an unfamiliar pattern and aimed it at his head. He was never going to be happy with anyone pointing a wand at him, even if they were a Founder, but all he felt was a slight tingle. His relief was tempered a moment later though by the frown that appeared on Hufflepuff's face.

"What's wrong?" He knew the answer as soon as the question left his mouth. "There's Dark magic in there, isn't there?"

Hufflepuff nodded. "I am afraid so. It does not appear to be harming you, but then I am no expert in Dark magic. We will have to consult with Salazar to determine exactly how it is affecting you, and whether it would be possible to remove it."

Old suspicions rose in Harry's mind. "Does he know a lot about the Dark Arts, then?"

"He studied them in his youth," Hufflepuff admitted. "But he has not done so for many years. He, more than any of us, knows the dangers of delving too deeply."

Abashed, Harry nodded. "Will he be able to help?"

Hufflepuff sighed. "I do not know, but if anyone can, it is him." She gave him a small smile. "Try not to worry, Harry. We will do all we can."

"Thank you." He caught sight of Hermione in the doorway and lowered his voice. "Can you not mention this to Ron or Hermione? I don't want to worry them."

Hufflepuff did not look pleased, but she nodded. "It will be your decision, but I would advise confiding in them. They would want to help."

"I will," said Harry quickly. "Once we find out what it is. There's nothing they can do before that anyway."

"Very well then." She looked up with a smile as Hermione came to sit next to Harry. "Good morning, my dear."

"Good morning, Professor, Harry."

Harry sighed at the familiar scowl on her face. "What did he do this time?"

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Why does he always have to be so stubborn?"

"Is he the only one?"

Hermione ignored that. "He never listens! It's not like it would kill him to pay a bit more attention."

"I assume we are talking about Ron," said Hufflepuff. At Hermione's grunt, she nodded. "He is young. He will grow out of it in time." She laughed at the scepticism on Hermione's face. "I have three younger brothers, and they all did."

Hermione sighed. "I know. It's just so frustrating."

Hufflepuff smiled. "Now that I have heard before."

"What do you mean?"

"Rowena would often say the same thing about Godric."

Hermione blushed, but Harry just nodded. That explained quite a lot. Hufflepuff's eyes twinkled as she changed the subject.

"Are you not hungry, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, thank you."

Harry groaned. "Not this again."

Hermione glared at him. "It's not right."

"Hermione, they don't mind!"

"Only because they've never been taught otherwise. Look at Dobby."

"Yeah, and then look at Winky and every other one you've ever spoken to."

"Excuse me," Hufflepuff interrupted. "But what exactly is the matter?"

Harry glanced at her. "Hermione has strong feelings on house-elf rights."

"Of course I do!" Hermione spluttered. "Just because they're not human, it doesn't mean it isn't slavery."

Harry half-expected Hufflepuff to snap at that, but the Founder tilted her head to one side. "Hermione, how much do you know about house-elves?"

Hermione frowned. "I know they're forced to obey wizards, and can be treated abominably even when they do do what they're asked. They don't get paid, or sick-leave, or holidays. They're basically slaves to wizards who are too lazy to do their own work." She suddenly seemed to realise who she was addressing and broke off, but the defiant gleam remained in her eyes. Harry resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. To his surprise though, Hufflepuff just sighed.

"Yes, but what do you know about the creatures themselves?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know why a house-elf will bond to a wizard? Or anything about how the bond is supposed to work?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I looked in the library, but it didn't have much information. It only said that they have been enslaved by wizards for centuries."

"Bonded to," Hufflepuff corrected.

"Is there a difference?"

"Of course there is. A slave is the property of its master, with no more rights than an object. The relationship created by a bond is very different. Each individual brings something to the partnership so that both benefit from it."

"So what does the wizard bring?" asked Harry.

"You should have been taught this," Hufflepuff murmured. She shook her head as Harry twitched. "Forgive me. It is not your fault. It is just a shame."

"Can you explain it?" asked Hermione tentatively.

Hufflepuff smiled. "That is the primary function of a teacher, is it not?" She looked between them. "House-elves are an extremely ancient race," she began. "Nobody knows exactly when or where they came into being. What is known is that they possess more raw magic than any other creature known to man."

Harry stared at her. "What?"

"But that doesn't make sense," Hermione objected. "What could they possibly need from wizards if they're so powerful?"

"It is precisely because they are so powerful that they initiated the bond," said Hufflepuff patiently. "Their power in its raw state is almost uncontrollable. Before the treaty was negotiated, it was not uncommon for a house-elf to lose control, often causing massive amounts of damage to itself or others in the process."

Harry took a moment to enjoy the sight of Hermione struck speechless. "So bonding to a wizard allows them to control it properly?"

Hufflepuff nodded. "Their master's commands allow them to direct and focus their magic without fear if it going wild." Her eyes darkened. "Of course, there are those masters who abuse their power. Prolonged abuse erodes the bond between wizard and elf, allowing the house-elf to use magic as it sees fit."

"That explains how Dobby was able to help me," Harry realised. At Hufflepuff's confusion, he elaborated. "His masters were horrible; they were always punishing him for something, but he was still able to disobey them to help me in my second year."

Hufflepuff shook her head. "Some people are not fit to command others." There was an unusually steely look in her eyes. Harry couldn't agree more.

"I was able to trick them into freeing him at the end of the year. They still hate me for it." He paused as a sudden thought struck him. "Was that wrong? Will his magic start going wild?"

"If he formed a new bond soon afterwards, he should not have suffered any difficulties," Hufflepuff assured him. "And in any case, it is far better that he is away from those who would abuse him."

Harry frowned. "He came to work here, at Hogwarts, I mean. I don't know if he bonded with anyone."

"In that case, he would have formed a bond with the Headmaster," said Hufflepuff. "Or he should have done, if our instructions have been followed." She gave a small smile. "All the house-elves here come from less than pleasant backgrounds. I am glad to hear that Hogwarts will continue to be a sanctuary to those who need it."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. That explained a lot. He suddenly realised Hermione still hadn't said a word and glanced over at her.

"What do you think, Hermione?" There was no reply. "Hermione?"

She started and looked up. "Sorry?"

"Is everything all right, dear?" asked Hufflepuff.

Hermione looked down again. "I'm fine. It's just a lot to take in. But why don't they get paid?"

"Because they don't want paying. Their master is responsible for looking after them, and material goods don't hold the same value for them as they do for us."

"I don't know," said Harry. "Dobby's obsessed with clothes. Though he isn't exactly what you'd call normal." He sighed as Hermione's expression failed to lighten. "Come on, what's wrong?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think I may have made a mistake."

All of Harry's frustration fled immediately. He knew how difficult that admission must have been. "It's not your fault the library didn't have the right books."

"Indeed," said Hufflepuff. "And you should not be too despondent. Your desire to improve the well-being of your fellow creatures is much to your credit."

Hermione managed a small smile at that. "Thank you." She hesitated a moment, then the words came out in a rush. "But I still don't like the idea of them being forced to serve us. There has to be a better of helping them than compelling them to bind themselves to a wizard."

"Then why don't you investigate?" Hufflepuff suggested. "Godric and I looked into it some time back, but our time has been somewhat limited since Hogwarts opened. And I imagine the resources of the future could be most useful when combined with the knowledge you can gain here."

An all too familiar gleam was dawning in Hermione's eyes. "Do you think so?"

Hufflepuff smiled at her. "I do not see why not."

Harry bit back a groan at the look on his friend's face. It looked like the campaign to free house-elves was only just beginning.

Thankfully, further discussion of elf rights was postponed when Tenby arrived, laden down by more plates. Hermione's appetite had apparently returned with the new information, and she fell upon the food with just as much enthusiasm as Harry. Soon afterwards, Ron joined them, his red hair rumpled and still looking sleepy. His expression was distinctly wary as he approached, and turned to surprise when Hermione didn't snap at him. Rather sensibly, he chose to begin his own breakfast rather than question it. Ravenclaw appeared soon after, and it wasn't long before she was again quizzing Hermione on the future. Hermione was careful to stay vague as to the practical innovations, but she still seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

They were just finishing when Gryffindor and Slytherin arrived. Both were in high spirits; Gryffindor was laughing, and there was a distinctly mischievous element to the grin on Slytherin's face. So Harry was rather nonplussed to see that their robes were torn in places and covered in scorch marks in others. Ron's mouth fell open.

"What happened?"

Gryffindor glanced down at himself, and grinned. "Sparring."

Harry stared at him, then at Slytherin. "This is sparring?"

"Indeed," said Ravenclaw dryly. "Thank you for restraining yourselves."

Harry thought she was being sarcastic, until Slytherin nodded. "We did not want to overly alarm them." A wave of his hand and both of them were back to their original pristine condition. Harry noted with some bemusement that the display now elicited only mild curiosity. Maybe they were getting used to this time after all. Then Slytherin's words caught up to him.

"What do you mean, restraining yourselves?" He felt his face heat up almost immediately afterwards, but Gryffindor just smiled.

"Our sessions are usually considerably more demanding," he said. "We cannot afford to let ourselves get slow. Today, however, we have more pressing matters."

Ravenclaw nodded. "Quite." She turned to the trio, who straightened immediately. "We shall spend the morning going over your Transfiguration, and some basic Duelling strategies. The afternoon is yours to do as you wish."

Harry glanced at the others. "Sounds good."

Godric clapped his hands together. "Excellent." His eyes gleamed. "I hope you all ate enough. You are going to need your strength today."

Harry eyed him apprehensively. Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a good idea.

---

Harry let his head fall onto the table with a groan, too tired to keep holding it up. Ron's voice sounded faintly through his exhaustion.

"And I thought McGonagall worked us hard."

Harry didn't have the strength to agree. Transfiguration had always been difficult, but Ravenclaw was even more of a perfectionist than their head of house. There was no denying that she was a brilliant teacher, he had finally got the knack of Vanishing all of his mouse on the first try, but it had been hard work. Hermione, unsurprisingly, had loved it, but both he and Ron and struggled.

After a short break had come Duelling, and that was much more to Harry's liking. Gryffindor was just as thorough as Ravenclaw, but he was far more relaxed, and had the knack of teaching them difficult techniques without making it seem like a trial. This time, he had concentrated on showing them how to make the most of the spells they knew, and taught them some basic ways to trap an opponent. Harry had loved it, surprising himself and the others by defeating Ron in less than two minutes afterwards. The disappointment on his friend's face had dampened his spirits somewhat, though Ron had seemed to cheer up when Harry beat Hermione in a similar style minutes later. Harry left the Armoury torn between guilt, and delight that he had finally found something useful he could do. Gryffindor's approving nod had meant more to him than anyone else's.

Still, it might have been fun, but it was utterly exhausting. Hence why the three of them had all but collapsed at the table when they arrived for lunch.

"It went well, then?"

Harry forced his head up to find Slytherin studying him, his eyes glinting with amusement. "It was good," he mumbled. "Learned a lot."

Slytherin glanced at Ron and Hermione. "And used a lot of energy in the process." He nudged their bowls closer to them. "Eat, before you fall asleep."

"It's the middle of the day," Ron protested half-heartedly. "We're not going to fall asleep." He did reach for his bowl though.

Harry reflected briefly on the absurdity of Slytherin of all people telling them to eat their dinner, before he too gave in. He didn't see the smiles that passed between the other Founders as they turned to their own repast.

The food revived him somewhat, and he started to pay attention to the conversation around him. The Founders were discussing arrangements for new students though, and he soon turned back to Ron and Hermione. They too were beginning to look more awake, but Harry was still very glad that they had the afternoon off.

"Harry."

Harry looked over. It seemed Hufflepuff had seen he was finished. "We can attend to the matter we were discussing earlier now, if you wish."

Harry nodded and got to his feet. "All right."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What matter?"

"They're just going to check my scar to see what's going on," said Harry quickly. "I'll be fine."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but she also didn't protest, for which Harry was grateful. Ron nodded at him.

"Good luck, mate."

Harry shot him a quick grin, then walked over to where Hufflepuff and Slytherin were waiting. "So, where are we going to do this?"

"Our chamber will be fine," said Slytherin. "We will not be disturbed there." He tilted his head to one side. "Are you all right?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine." He saw the two Founders exchange a look and sighed. "I just want to know what's going on."

"We will find out," Hufflepuff promised.

Slytherin nodded. "Indeed we will." He glanced at Harry as they made their way out of the Hall. "Tell me, how did you find your first lessons?"

Harry grimaced. "Hard work."

Hufflepuff glanced at Slytherin. "They did have Godric straight after Rowena."

Slytherin's lips quirked upwards. "We may have to amend that."

"Thank you," said Harry fervently.

It wasn't long before they reached the small antechamber where Harry and the others had originally appeared. Slytherin waved to Harry to one of the seats and pulled up another opposite him.

"Try to relax for me, Harry."

Harry held still as Slytherin waved his wand in the same pattern Hufflepuff had used earlier. He was silent for a moment, then sighed.

"Definitely Dark magic," he said quietly.

"Can you identify it?" asked Hufflepuff. "I've never felt anything like it."

Slytherin frowned. "Possibly. It feels familiar, though I find myself struggling to place it."

"What's going on?" asked Harry.

Slytherin turned to him, his expression grim. "There is Dark magic in your scar, Harry. Very old, very powerful magic. It does not appear to be harming you," he said, forestalling Harry's question, "but as to what it is..." His voice trailed off, and he performed a couple more spells. From the way his jaw tightened, Harry guessed he wasn't happy with the results.

"Well?"

Slytherin scowled. "There are a number of possibilities. I will have to do some research before we attempt to counteract it."

Harry stared at him. "What?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "You did not think we were just going to leave you with a head full of Dark magic, did you?"

"Er..."

"We are here to help, Harry," Hufflepuff reminded him gently. She glanced at Slytherin. "Do you think you will be able to identify it?"

"I will have to look through my books," he replied. "They may also contain some clues as to how to neutralise it."

Harry saw Hufflepuff's eyes darken with concern. "Will you be all right? Some of those books..."

"I know, and I will be careful." He smiled at her, and Harry was struck by the tenderness of it.

Hufflepuff held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Very well then."

Slytherin squeezed her hand briefly and turned back to Harry. "I will find a way to fix this," he said. "I promise you that."

And Harry had no doubt that he would honour that promise.

---

Ron watched Harry leave and sighed. He was glad that the scar problem was finally going to be sorted, but he couldn't deny that he was worried about what they might find. Knowing Harry's luck, it wasn't likely to be anything good. He sighed again. Everything always seemed to happen to Harry. Hermione looked just as concerned.

"Do you think he'll be all right?"

"He'll be fine," said Ron firmly. "They'll find what's wrong, and they'll fix it, right?" He glanced at Ravenclaw, who nodded.

"Salazar has a great deal of experience with the Dark Arts. If anyone can help Harry, it is he."

Ron glanced at Hermione. Admitting to a good knowledge of the Dark Arts wasn't exactly the best way to assure them that everything would be fine. Gryffindor's eyes narrowed.

"If you want to defeat an enemy, you must first understand it," he said quietly. "Salazar studied those Arts a long time ago, but it is that knowledge that will now help your friend."

Ron felt his ears heat up and he looked down. He should have known that Gryffindor would never tolerate slurs against his friend. Personally, Ron still didn't feel entirely comfortable around Slytherin, but he certainly wasn't going to say so now.

"Sorry," he mumbled instead. "I'm still getting used to this."

Gryffindor smiled. "I understand. We all know that this has been a lot to take in. But you must understand that Salazar is a teacher here, and a dear friend. He is not the person you think he is."

Ron just nodded. Gryffindor might believe what he was saying, but Ron still going to keep his eyes open, especially since Slytherin seemed to have taken an interest in Harry. A snide part of his mind whispered that Harry hardly needed his help, but he forced that thought aside.

"Ron?"

Belatedly, Ron realised that Gryffindor was still talking. "Sorry, what?" He cringed, expecting a reprimand. What a way to make a good impression.

"Ron, look at me."

Ron forced himself to look up, steeling himself for the disappointment he was sure was coming. To his surprise though, Gryffindor's eyes held nothing but concern.

"What is the matter?"

Ron shrugged. "Nothing."

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "I do not know what things are like in the future, but here there are certain rules against lying to a teacher, particularly your head of house." His tone was mild, but the message was very clear. "What is it? You already have our assurances that Harry will come to no harm in Salazar's care."

"I know, I know." He scowled. "And it's not like I could do anything to help him anyway."

Gryffindor shook his head. "Have you forgotten our earlier conversation so soon?"

Ron stared at him. "Of course not, but you saw him this morning. What does he need me for when he can duel like that?"

"Ah, so that's what this is about."

Ron shrugged and looked away. "Well, it's true."

"No, it is not."

Startled, Ron looked back. "What do you mean?"

"His ability to defeat you in a duel does not mean he does not need you," said Gryffindor patiently. "I can defeat Salazar in a duel, yet his friendship is invaluable to me. It is quite clear that Harry values your friendship just as highly."

"But why? I can't do anything."

"Your actions the other night alone proved otherwise." His voice softened. "Harry doesn't need you to be an incredible duellist. He needs you to be his friend, just as you always have been."

"Not always," Ron mumbled, but his heart did feel a bit lighter.

"Besides, there is a great deal you can do."

Ron snorted. "Nothing Hermione can't do better." He cast a quick look sideways, but Hermione was deep in conversation with Ravenclaw and clearly hadn't heard a word he'd said.

"I do not believe that."

"You should. About the only thing I can beat both of them at is chess, and a fat lot of good that is."

Gryffindor shook his head. "On the contrary, your proficiency at chess could prove extremely useful." Ron's scepticism must have shown in his face, for he elaborated. "Think about all the skills you use while playing. A good player must have the ability to strategise, to predict an opponent's move and calculate the best methods of counteracting them. He must also have good judgement to avoid being drawn into traps, and to identify the optimum moment to launch his own attacks. All of these are qualities that are essential if you wish to become a skilled duellist."

Ron was silent for a long moment. He had never thought about it like that, but it did make a lot of sense. "Do you think I could learn that?"

Gryffindor smiled. "To a certain extent, you already have. You are certainly better at planning your attacks than either Harry or Hermione."

"Then how come Harry was able to beat me so easily?"

"Because Harry favours unpredictability. While your initial strategy was good, you need to learn to amend your plans so that you are not caught unawares when something does not go as you expect."

Ron thought back to the morning's session. It was true that he had struggled when Harry did not react like he thought he would, and he had failed to regain the advantage. From there, it had only been a matter of time before Harry was triumphant; Ron knew he didn't have a hope of matching his friend's experience. But maybe with help...

He looked up to meet Gryffindor's patient gaze. "Can you teach me?"

Gryffindor smiled at him. "That is what I am here for, is it not?" His expression turned thoughtful. "In time, I will start incorporating more strategy into our Duelling sessions. All three of you could use the practise. In the meantime, however, I would enjoy a game with you."

Ron blinked. "A chess game?"

"If you are agreeable. I expect there will be some differences after all this time, but none should be insurmountable."

Ron didn't even try to halt the wide smile spreading across his face. "That would be brilliant."

Gryffindor nodded. "Excellent. Shall we say this evening after dinner, then?"

"Sounds good to me." He tried to keep his voice level, but inside he felt like singing. Finally, there was something useful he could do.

---

"And then he just moved his pawn and took my rook. Instant checkmate, and I completely missed it."

Harry was careful to hide a grin. Had anyone else beaten Ron, the redhead probably would have been furious. It wasn't really a surprise that Godric Gryffindor was the exception to the rule.

It was the morning of their fourth day in the past, and they had finally begun to settle into a routine. Each day they would have lessons with each of the Founders, before splitting off into their individual pursuits. It hadn't taken Ron and Gryffindor long to recognise each other's potential, and they were now playing matches every evening, which Ron would summarise with great enthusiasm for them the following morning.

"He's really that good?" asked Hermione.

Ron nodded vigorously. "I'm good at seeing patterns and predicting an opponent's moves, but he's got so many plans within plans that it's hard to keep track of them all. And then he'll go and pull off something completely random and win the game." He shrugged. "Not really surprising, considering who he is."

Harry shook his head. "Maybe, but it's still weird to imagine you losing."

Ron's ears went pink at the compliment. "He's the best opponent I've ever played. I don't think I'll ever be that good."

"You sell yourself short. Godric tells me you're one of the most promising young players he's ever encountered."

Harry almost jumped out of his skin. "Do you have to do that? Sir," he added belatedly.

Slytherin smirked at him. "Consider it a test of your situational awareness."

"You appeared out of thin air!"

"A test of your reactions then." There was no malice in his tone though, and Harry found himself grinning back in spite of himself. Ever since Slytherin had checked his scar and promised to help, he had been feeling more at ease in the Founder's presence.

"I'll work on it."

"Good." He glanced at Ron. "And you need to work on your self-confidence."

Ron nodded ruefully. "Professor Gryffindor said the same thing."

"Then maybe you should take it to heart."

Ron said nothing, but he looked a good deal more thoughtful.

"What are we going to be doing today, Professor?" asked Hermione.

"Working on patience." He said it with such straight face that it took Harry a moment to realise he wasn't being serious.

"Professor."

"Well, in a manner of speaking. Rushing in this particular subject would not be advisable."

Hermione's eyes it up. "Are we starting Potions, then?"

"You should not be sounding so happy about that," Ron mumbled. Slytherin raised an eyebrow and he winced. "Sorry."

Slytherin just nodded. "I do not expect you to approach this with the same enthusiasm you have for your Duelling sessions," Harry and Ron exchanged sheepish looks at that, "but I will ask that you keep an open mind. You may find that there is more to it than you currently realise."

"We'll try," Harry promised. Ron hesitated, but after a moment he nodded too.

"Excellent. If you will follow me then."

"So did you have to invent a new spell in the end?" asked Hermione, as they made their way down the corridor.

Slytherin shook his head. "Rowena and I ran a few experiments, and I believe we have isolated the maleficent elements. Replacing any lead equipment with pewter should prevent any further ill-consequences."

Harry nodded. "That's what we use at home."

Slytherin paused to stare at him. "And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"

"Er..."

"It's my fault," said Hermione. "I didn't know how common pewter was, of if you even had it, and I didn't want to risk ruining the timeline, and I'm really sorry for wasting your time-"

Slytherin held up a hand. "Hermione, relax. I am not upset."

Hermione blinked. "You're not?"

"Certainly not." His voice softened. "This situation is unique. There were always going to be misunderstandings and miscommunications. It is not your fault, and it caused no harm; indeed, it was quite a fascinating study."

Hermione managed a small smile. "Thank you."

Slytherin nodded and continued walking, but Harry noticed that Ron was not the only one looking thoughtful now.

It wasn't long before they reached the classroom. Once they had resumed their places, Slytherin turned to them.

"How many of the ingredients from last time do you remember?"

Harry cast his mind back. "Dairy roots and leech juice..."

"A Shrivelfig," Ron added.

"And caterpillars and a rat spleen each," Hermione finished.

Slytherin nodded. "Good. Off you go then." When they all had a pile of ingredients in front of them, he continued. "Now then, show me how you would go about preparing these."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, then shrugged and reached for the caterpillars. Slytherin's gaze was a little unnerving, but it wasn't until Harry began peeling the Shrivelfig that he spoke.

"Is that the technique Snape showed you?"

Harry blinked. "It's the way I've always done it."

"Yes, but it is the way you were taught?"

"No," Harry admitted. "He said to avoid gripping it by the end, but that makes it really awkward. I don't think anyone does it that way."

"Except Hermione," Ron put in. Hermione glared at him and he shrugged. "What difference does it make anyway?"

Slytherin sighed. "And this is why it is important to understand why we do things in a particular way. Pass me your Shrivelfig please, Harry." Harry did so, then blinked as Slytherin extracted a tiny knife from a pouch in his belt. Ignoring their questioning looks, he gestured to the top of the plant.

"Do you see the slight bulge just below the stem?"

Harry squinted at it. "Yeah. What is it?"

"We're not entirely sure," Slytherin admitted. "But if you slice it open..." he flicked the blade across it and held it up. "What do you see?"

Hermione frowned. "They look like spores of some kind."

"As good a name for them as any."

"But why are they so important?" Harry asked. This might be interesting, but he didn't see why it was relevant.

Slytherin ignored his tone. "They are important because it is these spores that will eventually react with the daisy roots and the leech juice to produce the shrinking effect."

Hermione's eyes widened. "So if we crush them while peeling it-"

"You greatly reduce the effectiveness of the potion," Slytherin finished. "There are enough spores in the liquid of the main body for the potion to work, but it will never gain its full potency."

Ron shook his head. "No wonder your potion was so much better than ours," he said, glancing at Hermione.

Harry scowled. "Why didn't Snape tell us that?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "He did show you the correct method. Why he chose not to explain it is not our concern."

Harry nodded and glanced at the remaining ingredients. How many more seemingly basic things were they going to have to fix? Slytherin seemed to read his mind.

"We do have time to remedy this," he said quietly.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out again. "Let's get on with it then."

Thankfully, Slytherin only had minor issues with the rest of their preparations, and they were soon able to start brewing. Harry was soon surprised to find that he was actually enjoying himself; Slytherin gave clear instructions, and was quick to help them remedy any mistakes they made. He also provided a running commentary as to the reasons behind each step.

"And this will counteract the residual effects from the caterpillars," he said, as they added the rat spleens. "It will, however, produce certain volatile effects at high temperatures, so you will need to monitor your flames carefully for the next few minutes."

"So that's how Seamus did it," Ron exclaimed. "Seamus holds the record for most Potions accidents," he told Slytherin.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "That does not sound like a good thing."

"There are never any serious injuries," Harry assured him. "Snape might not explain things, but he's usually pretty good at containing major accidents."

"I should hope so. Now add the daisy roots until it turns green."

"Not orange," said Harry with a grin.

Slytherin glanced at him. "It would be almost impossible to turn this potion orange. Unless you added the leech juice before the Shrivelfig, in which case the colour would be the least of your worries."

Hermione shook her head. "Can you really predict all that?"

"Once you understand the properties of the ingredients, certainly. All right, you can leave these for now. Well done, all of you."

Harry smiled. "I never thought I'd say this, but that was actually pretty cool."

"Yeah, I never knew Potions could be that interesting."

Hermione frowned. "It's always been interesting."

Ron just looked at her. "Seriously?"

"Well, if you ever paid any attention..."

"Snape's the one with the problem, not me."

Harry was in complete agreement, but he decided to take advantage of their distraction. He shuffled closer to Slytherin, who was watching the bickering pair with barely concealed amusement.

"Professor, can I talk to you?"

Slytherin's attention was on him in an instant. "Certainly, Harry. What can I do for you?"

Harry looked down at his feet. "I was just wondering if you'd, you know, found anything."

"It had only been three days, Harry," said Slytherin gently.

Harry felt his face heat up. "Right. Sorry."

Slytherin's gaze softened in sympathy. "I understand your anxiety, and I will find out what's going on, but it will take some time." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Trust me."

Harry held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. "All right."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and Slytherin straightened. "Come in."

The door opened and Gryffindor entered. Harry started to call out a greeting, but paused at the expression on his face. This was not their light-hearted teacher. He nodded briefly to the trio before turning to Slytherin.

"We're needed."

Slytherin went completely still, silver eyes hardening. "Where?"

"The Hollow. Main street."

Slytherin nodded and turned to Harry and the others. "I am afraid we must leave you. Leave your potions for now; we will continue with this tomorrow."

"But where are you going?" Harry asked. "What's going on?"

"Helga and Rowena will explain," said Gryffindor. "We will be back shortly." Before anyone could say anything, both Founders disappeared.

It was Ron that broke the stunned silence.

"What the hell was that?"

Harry shook his head. "No idea."

"Gryffindor said they were needed," Hermione murmured. "I wonder what for."

"Whatever it was, it must happen fairly often," said Harry. "Slytherin didn't look particularly surprised."

Ron began gathering his ingredients together. "Let's go and find out. It's not like we can do anything without Slytherin here anyway."

Harry nodded, but couldn't help feeling slightly wistful. This lesson had been far more interesting than anything Snape had ever given. He shook himself and began to pack his things away. They would be able to continue tomorrow, and he was just as curious as Ron as to what was going on.

It didn't take long for them to clean and return their equipment and unused ingredients. They left their cauldrons on the desk against the wall and began to make their way back up to the Entrance Hall.

"Where do you reckon they'll be?" asked Ron.

"Professor Ravenclaw will probably be in the library," said Hermione. She ignored the grins that passed between Harry and Ron and continued calmly. "But I think we should check Professor Hufflepuff's office on the way."

No one had any better ideas, so they took the corridor that led to Hufflepuff's chambers. A few minutes later, they arrived outside an ornately carved door, and Hermione knocked.

"Come in."

Harry had visited a couple of times before, and he felt himself relax almost immediately as he stepped inside. The room was small, but cosy, and it always made him feel safe. This time though, something felt different. Hufflepuff was standing by the window with Ravenclaw, and although she smiled at their approach, Harry couldn't help but think that it was a little forced. The fact that Ravenclaw was rather pale wasn't lost on him either, and his curiosity deepened. What was going on?

"What can I do for you, my dears?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione who both nodded at him. "Well, we were in the middle of our first Potions lesson when Professor Gryffindor came in..." He proceeded to describe the brief conversation, but he didn't miss the look that passed between the two witches. Neither were smiling by the time he finished.

"Did they explain their actions?" Ravenclaw asked.

"They said you would," said Hermione tentatively.

"Of course they did." Helga laid a hand on her arm and she sighed. "I beg your pardon. This is not the best time."

"They could not exactly take the time to do so themselves," said Helga mildly.

Harry's unease deepened. "What's going on? Where did they go?"

There was a pause and then Hufflepuff sighed. "I suppose it is only fair that you know." She took a moment to gather her thoughts. "How are Dark wizards dealt with in your time?"

"You mean Death Eaters?"

"Any wizard who poses a threat. Who is responsible for stopping them?"

"The Aurors," said Harry. "They're specially trained to hunt and catch Dark wizards."

"I see. Well, as you can probably tell, there are no Aurors here. In fact, there are no formal authorities for dealing with those who break the law."

Everything clicked into place. "So you have to deal with it yourselves."

"Precisely."

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured. "Sorry," he added quickly, when Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow. "So if people see Dark wizards they come here for help?"

Hufflepuff nodded. "Godric has developed quite a reputation over the years, and Salazar is very nearly as renowned as he is. Since Hogwarts opened, they are often the first to be called upon in an emergency."

"Wicked," Ron breathed.

Harry could only nod in agreement. The more they learned about the Founders, the more he admired them. Hermione, however, gave a strangled hiss.

"Wicked? They could be killed."

Ron stared at her. "Calm down, will you? You saw how good Gryffindor is; what could they have to be worried about?"

"More than you realise," said Hufflepuff quietly. "Hermione is quite right to be concerned about them."

Ron blinked. "But I thought Gryffindor was the best duellist in the country."

"He is, but that does not mean he is invulnerable, especially when they are outnumbered. And it only takes one mistake."

"Has it happened before?" asked Harry. The pain in Hufflepuff's eyes answered the question even before she spoke.

"More times than I can count." Ravenclaw turned to look out the window, but not before Harry saw that her eyes were suspiciously bright. Ron just stood staring at Hufflepuff, his expression one of pure dismay.

"Then we have to help them!"

"No!" The force in Hufflepuff's voice left them stunned, and she didn't give them a chance the recover. "None of you are ready for this. At best you would distract them, at worst, you could be killed." Her expression softened and she continued more gently. "Leave them to it. They know what they are doing."

Harry shook his head. "But there are only two of them." It went against all his instincts to stay still when others were in danger.

"Quality is more important than quantity," Hufflepuff pointed out. "And both of them are very good at what they do."

"Then why are you both so nervous?" asked Hermione. She blushed immediately afterwards, but Ravenclaw just gave her a small smile.

"Because we have seen them leave too many times not to be." She sighed. "But there is no need to panic just yet. The message did not sound as bad as some. They should not have too many difficulties."

Her words didn't convince anybody. After a moment, Hufflepuff sighed.

"At any rate, there is nothing we can do now. I am afraid we will have to postpone our lesson this afternoon too."

"What will you be doing?" asked Harry.

Hufflepuff gave a sad smile. "Checking the infirmary. We have learned that it is better to be prepared."

Harry fell silent. Her tone more than anything else convinced him that they were in deadly earnest. For the first time, he felt a frission of fear. Losing Gryffindor would be a heavy blow; already he had taught them an incredible amount, and his encouragement was invaluable, but for some reason the thought of Slytherin's death was equally painful. He didn't know Slytherin well, but the Founder had already helped him with his nightmares and scar, and even Potions was becoming bearable. He really didn't want all that to end so soon.

Ravenclaw shook her head. "You might as well go and enjoy the sunshine. It is not likely to last much longer."

Harry stared at the floor. At that moment, the last thing he wanted to do was try to relax. Hermione swallowed.

"Do-do you mind if we stay?"

Harry nodded. "I don't think any of us could really enjoy it right now."

Ravenclaw frowned, but Hufflepuff just nodded. "Very well." She sighed. "Everything seems to stop when an incident like this occurs."

"Does this happen a lot then?" asked Ron.

"More than we would like," Ravenclaw answered. "But increasingly often recently."

Hufflepuff nodded, her smile fading again. "Indeed. Salazar has been investigating, but his time has been somewhat limited of late." She looked about to say more, but abruptly fell silent. Ravenclaw also froze, her brow furrowed in concentration. Harry glanced at Hermione, but just as he was about to ask what was going on, both witches relaxed.

"They're back," said Ravenclaw. The relief was clear in her voice.

Hufflepuff closed her eyes for a moment. "And safe, thank God."

"Wait, how do you know that?" Ron demanded.

"The wards," said Ravenclaw. "They alert us when someone enters of leaves." She began to move towards the door, and Hufflepuff gestured for the trio to follow.

"They will not mind," she assured them. "In fact, they will appreciate the concern."

Harry nodded and stepped into the corridor. "Where are they?"

"In the infirmary," said Hufflepuff. "They are not harmed," she added quickly, at their alarmed expressions, "but we have gotten into the habit of meeting them there."

"It usually saves us having to help them there," said Ravenclaw dryly. "It is easier this way."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, and saw his own horror mirrored in their faces. This was a lot more serious than they had realised. Hufflepuff just sighed.

"Come, my dears. They will be waiting."

Hufflepuff proved to be mistaken though, for when they arrived in the infirmary, they found only Gryffindor waiting for them. He was studying a deep cut on his upper arm, and looked up at their approach.

"Ah, a welcoming committee." His tone was light, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Ravenclaw went straight to him.

"Are you all right?"

Gryffindor pulled her into a brief hug, being careful to keep his bloody arm away from her. "It is just a scratch," he murmured. "Salazar is fine too," he added, glancing at Hufflepuff. "He needed some time."

A frown flickered across Hufflepuff's face, but she shook herself and moved to inspect his wound for herself. "I am glad to hear it." She studied it and nodded. "Nothing to worry about." She began to wave her wand over it, and even as Harry watched, the edges began to knit themselves together. He glanced away, stomach churning uncomfortably, and found himself meeting Gryffindor's gaze. The warrior smiled at him.

"It is not particularly painful." He glanced round at them. "Are you all right?"

Harry opened his mouth and suddenly found that words had deserted him. Hearing about these activities had startled him, but to see Gryffindor acting so normally when his robes were covered in that much blood...

"We explained everything," he heard Ravenclaw murmur. "They did not take it well."

"I see." He turned back to them. "Come over here."

Numbly, Harry shuffled forwards, Ron and Hermione beside him. Gryffindor moved to stand in front of them, his usually cheerful demeanour completely serious.

"We do what we have to do," he said quietly. "When the alternative is leaving innocents to suffer, how can we do less? Surely there are people in similar situations in your time."

"Aurors," Harry said. "Dark wizard catchers."

"There you are. Their role is the same as ours, yet you seem to have accepted it."

"But it's their job," Hermione protested. "They get paid, and compensation, and training."

"And they go out in teams," Ron added. "They don't have to deal with everything while massively outnumbered."

Gryffindor sighed. "That is good, but I am afraid that things are different here. There are few who are capable of combatting these particular threats, and I am not willing to put others in harm's way. And as for the subject of payment..." He gave a slight shrug. "Neither Salazar, nor I have any need of it, and we are hardly going to ask if they can pay while under attack. Nor will we stand by and watch while we have the strength to help."

Harry thought about it, and realised that he had no arguments. It actually sounded very much like something he would say, though he made a mental note never to mention that in Hermione's presence. Ron just nodded.

"Yeah. Sounds about right."

Gryffindor smiled at them. "We know what we are doing," he repeated. "We have been doing so long enough."

"But not long enough to know when to duck, apparently," said Ravenclaw, with a pointed look at his bloodstained clothes.

Gryffindor shrugged as he studied it. "Lucky shot." Harry saw with some surprise that the cut had already faded to an angry with an angry red line, and so it took a moment for him to realise that the Founder's smile had disappeared.

Hufflepuff's eyes narrowed. "Godric, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Godric."

Gryffindor's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who looked just as startled by the sudden tension as he felt.

"Godric," said Ravenclaw. "What happened? Is it Salazar?"

It was impossible to miss the sudden alarm that leapt to Hufflepuff's eyes at that. Gryffindor sighed. "He is fine." Indecision flickered across his face before his shoulders slumped. "There was a complication."

Ravenclaw closed her eyes for a moment. "What complication?" In any other situation, Harry would have smiled at the resignation in her voice, but the look on Gryffindor's face halted any thought of levity.

Instead of answering, Gryffindor reached into a pocket and withdrew a piece of cloth. The edges were ragged; it had clearly been torn from a larger piece. Gryffindor unfolded it, and Harry had a brief glimpse of a pattern stitched in red before Gryffindor turned to show it to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Harry shot a questioning glance at Hermione, but a sudden crash sent him whipping round again.

A bowl lay in pieces at Hufflepuff's feet, but she barely seemed to notice it. She was staring at the cloth in Gryffindor's hand, and there was such terror in her eyes that Harry instinctively took a step back. Gryffindor pulled her into his embrace, his eyes softening with sympathy.

"Forgive me," he murmured. "I should have warned you."

Ravenclaw's face was ashen. "Is that-" She broke off as Gryffindor glanced at her.

"It is."

Slowly, she sank onto the nearest bed. "Then God help us all."

"Hermione, what's going on?" Ron hissed.

"How should I know?"

"You usually do."

"Quiet," Harry muttered. The Founders were still talking and he didn't want to miss anything.

"We do not know for sure," Gryffindor was saying. "We broke them before; they could not have recovered so quickly. This is likely just a splinter group."

"Even a few would be dangerous," Ravenclaw pointed out. "Or one for that matter. You saw what he could do."

Harry was startled to see Gryffindor shiver. "Hopefully, that secret died with him."

"We cannot be sure of that," said Hufflepuff. She had recovered somewhat but was still terribly pale. "And we never did find the other body."

Ravenclaw frowned. "You cannot think he survived too."

Hufflepuff shook her head. "It is unlikely, but Salazar did say at the time that he could not be sure." Her voice faltered at Slytherin's name and she glanced at Gryffindor. "How did he take this?"

Gryffindor sighed. "About as well as you would expect."

Hufflepuff closed her eyes for a moment. "I had better find him then."

"That would probably be a good idea," Gryffindor agreed. He studied her. "Will you be all right?"

She gave a wan smile. "In time." There was a soft crack and she was gone.

Gryffindor rubbed a hand across his face and turned back. He paused as his gaze fell upon the trio, and Harry realised he had completely forgotten they were there.

"How much did you hear?"

There was no point in lying. "All of it."

"And how much did you understand?"

"Not much," Harry admitted. "What's going on? What's on that thing?" He nodded at the piece of cloth still crumpled in Gryffindor's and. Gryffindor looked down at it, and Harry felt a shiver at the hatred in his eyes.

"A reminder."

"A reminder of what?" asked Ron.

Gryffindor glanced at Ravenclaw, and something seemed to pass between the two of them. After a moment, Gryffindor sighed and turned back to them.

"I suppose you should know." He took a deep breath and then continued. "Over the years, Salazar and I have gained quite a reputation. Our exploits, both overseas and here in Britain, attracted a lot of attention." He gave a smile that contained absolutely no warmth. "As I am sure you are aware Harry, not all attention is good."

Harry swallowed. "You were attacked?"

Gryffindor nodded. "Two years ago. It was an ancient order of Dark wizards who felt we were becoming too much of a threat."

Harry frowned. That didn't sound like the whole story, but Gryffindor didn't give him a chance to ask questions.

"We were able to overcome them, but the price..." He trailed off shaking his head. "We thought that would be the end of the matter. It appears we were wrong."

"Do you think they'll try again?" Hermione asked.

Gryffindor shook his head. "I doubt they would be so foolish as to try attacking Hogwarts directly," he said. "Though that will not stop them from causing trouble elsewhere."

"Trouble that you'll have to deal with?" said Ron.

"Indeed." He sighed. "But that is not something for you to worry about. There are not enough of them to be a true threat."

Harry was not convinced, and the unease on Ravenclaw's face was doing nothing to allay his suspicions. "So what are we going to do?"

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "You will continue to learn and train. You will leave any further incidents to Salazar and I. This is not negotiable," he added, when both Harry and Ron opened their mouths to protest. "You may not officially be our students, but while you are here, you are our responsibility. None of you are ready for a battle, therefore you will obey me when I tell you to remain here. Do you understand?"

Harry scowled, but the glint in Gryffindor's eyes warned him not even to try arguing. "Yes, sir."

Ron and Hermione echoed him, Hermione with considerably more enthusiasm. Gryffindor nodded approvingly.

"Thank you. Now why don't you go and make the most of the sunshine?"

Harry waited until they were a good few corridors away before giving vent to his emotions.

"They're treating us like children!"

Ron was no less indignant. "What's the point in teaching us to fight if they won't let us practice?"

"And it's not like we're completely useless. Do Voldemort and the Death Eaters not count or something?"

Hermione stopped walking to glare at him. "Have you both lost your minds? They're trying to protect us!"

"We don't need protecting," Harry snapped back.

"Yes, we do! You heard what he said; these people are dangerous, and they're used to killing. We wouldn't stand a chance."

"We've been in danger before."

Hermione shook her head. "Not like this. Harry, the Death Eaters in the Ministry weren't even trying to kill us and we were losing. We wouldn't stand a chance against these people."

"We will soon," Ron argued. "We're already loads better than we were."

Hermione just looked at him. "Ron, have you ever managed to hit Professor Gryffindor?"

Ron blinked. "Of course not."

"Harry?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly. None of us have ever come close to landing a spell on him, and he's not even trying hard when he duels us."

Harry scowled. "What's your point?"

"The point is that he wouldn't have been playing around today, yet those attackers still managed to curse him. What does that tell you?"

"...That they're good."

Hermione nodded. "Better than us."

Harry shook his head. "But we can't just do nothing."

Hermione stared at him. "What is wrong with you? You wouldn't try to help the Aurors back home; why are you being so unreasonable now?"

"Because there's only two of them."

"And they're two of the best duellists in the country. Harry, even at our best, we'd only distract them. More likely, we'd get ourselves, or them, killed. We can't get involved."

Harry fell silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Hermione made a good point. They weren't good enough to hold their own in a real duel, and Gryffindor and Slytherin couldn't afford to be constantly looking out for them. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth. Hermione's eyes softened.

"I want to help as much as you do," she said quietly. "But what good can we do?"

Harry looked away. "Nothing."

"Nothing, yet," Ron murmured.

Harry stared at him. "What?"

Ron's eyes gleamed. "Hermione's right. We're not good enough. So we have to get better."

Harry felt his spirits rise at the thought. "We have to train harder. Study more."

"Exactly. We're going to have to improve anyway to stand a chance against the Death Eaters, but this makes it even more important."

Hermione looked from one to the other, an eyebrow raised. "This is what it takes for you to start studying?"

Harry grinned. "Guess so. You in?"

She rolled her eyes. "I can hardly leave you two to study alone, can I? Besides, I've been waiting for this for five years; I'm not missing it now."

Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione soon joined in. It would take a lot of work, but they could do it. And Dark wizards in every time had better watch out when they did.

---

Helga let out a sigh as she shut the door to Salazar's chambers. She hadn't really expected to find him there, indeed, it had only been a delaying tactic at heart. She knew where he would be found. Now she just had to decide what to say. But what could be said? They had all suffered during the attack, but Salazar... Salazar had been forced to endure more than anyone should ever have to. He had survived, had healed, but Helga knew that not all of his nightmares were from his childhood. Some scars didn't fade.

She shook herself. Delaying wouldn't do any good. Closing her eyes, she Disapparated.

The wind plucked at her hair as she reappeared, and Helga had to resist the urge to keep her eyes closed. The Astronomy Tower was possibly her least favourite part of the entire school, and for good reason. Still, it would make finding Salazar somewhat tricky. She opened her eyes and felt the now familiar rush of awe. Not even she could deny that the view was spectacular. As always though, awe was rapidly replaced by terror and she laid a hand against the wall until the rush of dizziness passed. She still wondered if it had been necessary to make it this high. All thoughts of her own comfort flew out of her head though, when she looked up to see Salazar standing at the edge of the tower.

Even from a distance, Helga could see that he was in a bad way. Constant shivers wracked his thin frame, but he didn't move, didn't even seem aware of his precarious position. Helga's heart sank. She had seen him like this before, and it never boded well.

"Salazar."

Salazar didn't move, or give any indication that he had heard, but after a moment, a reply floated back. "Godric told you then."

"He did. Are you all right?"

There was a mirthless chuckle. "As all right as you are." His next words were so quiet Helga had to strain to hear them. "I thought we were rid of them."

"We do not know for sure it is them."

"You did not see them fight."

Helga swallowed. "Salazar, please come away from the edge." Her voice broke on the last word, and se choked back a sob.

Salazar did turn at that, and the pain in his eyes made her heart ache. "Why do we have to do all this again? Was not the first time enough?"

"I don't know." Memories of a spell tearing through her flesh flashed across her mind, but that pain had been nothing compared to the days that had followed. "Salazar, I don't know if I can do this again." Memories that she was worked so hard to repress began to surface again, threatening to overwhelm her. The first assault had almost destroyed them. A second would be too much. Her vision blurred as tears started to fall. They couldn't do this. She couldn't do this.

Then strong arms were around her, and she clung to the comfort they offered like a lifeline. Salazar never said a word, but words had never been necessary between them. He just held her until the weeping ceased.

"Are you all right?"

Helga nodded. "Better, thank you." She was surprised when he didn't immediately let go, his dislike of physical contact was infamous, but on due reflection, she decided she didn't mind staying where she was. "I am sorry about your robes."

"No harm done." He was silent for a moment. "It will not come to that."

"That is what we thought last time."

"I mean it. Last time we were taken by surprise. Now we know what we are facing, and we will not underestimate them."

"Or lose our tempers?"

His grip tightened slightly. "Not without good reason."

Helga drew away enough to look him in the eye. "Not even then. We - I cannot go through that again."

Salazar met her gaze steadily. "Neither can I." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please stay safe."

She nodded. "Be careful."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Aren't I always?"

"Would you really like me to answer that?"

He managed a true smile at that and drew her close again. "I will do my best."

She could have asked him to promise. But who could promise that? For now, this would have to be enough.

Chapter 7: Revelations

Notes:

Apologies for the delay, this story is very, very slowly migrating over from ff.net.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

"Hermione, are you sure this is a good idea?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Mate, you're asking Hermione if we should be in a library."

Hermione glared at the pair of them. "There is nothing wrong with going to the library," she snapped. "Besides, you were the one who wanted to know what was going on."

"I do," said Harry quickly. "But you heard them yesterday. They don't want us involved."

"They said we weren't to get involved with the fighting," Hermione corrected. "They didn't say anything about researching ourselves."

That was perfectly true, but Ron had another problem. "We don't even know where to start."

Harry agreed with him. The library wasn't quite as full as it was their time, but there was still a daunting amount of information, and not even the peace caused by Madam Pince's absence was enough to lift his mood. They hadn't seen any of the Founders since the discussion in the infirmary the previous day, and Harry was sure he wasn't the only one feeling a little lost. He was also surprised to find himself concerned about Slytherin; he had clearly been the most badly affected by whatever was going on, and despite Hufflepuff's assurances that he would be fine, Harry couldn't help wondering if he really was all right.

"Harry?"

Harry realised abruptly that Hermione was trying to get his attention. "Sorry, what?"

"I was asking if you managed to get a good look at the symbol Professor Gryffindor had."

Harry thought back. "I don't know; I only saw it for a second. Some shape inside a diamond, I think."

Ron's shoulders slumped. "How're we supposed to find that in all of this?" He waved his hand helplessly at the packed shelves.

"It has to be mentioned somewhere," said Hermione briskly. "They said it was an ancient order, so I think we should start with some of the history books..." Her voice faded as she strode off down an aisle. Harry and Ron exchanged resigned looks and followed.

By the time Harry had flicked through three hundred pages of Greek wizarding history, his enthusiasm for the projected, never very high to begin with, had faded to a dull ember. Hermione was in her element as she devoured text after text, but Ron had given up all attempts to read in favour of staring longingly out the window.

"Perfect Quidditch weather," he sighed.

Harry took a look. It was indeed a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly, and he could see the branches of the trees moving in a light breeze. Harry loved flying on such days. "I wonder if they have brooms here we could borrow."

Ron's eyes lit up. "I bet Gryffindor would let us, if we asked him."

"Probably," said Hermione, without looking up. "Just remember that Cushioning Charms won't be invented for another eight hundred years or so."

"...You know on second thoughts, let's wait until we get back."

Harry slumped back in his chair. "Great."

Hermione finally looked up to glare at them. "You know you could at least try to help."

"We did," Ron protested. "But we're looking for a symbol that we can't even remember properly, and an 'ancient order.' Do you know how many of those there are?"

"He's right, Hermione," said Harry. "I want to know what's going on, but we're never going to find anything like this. We need more details."

Hermione scowled. "I know we do, but I don't think they're going to give us any. It was clear yesterday that they don't like talking about it. If we want to know what this is really about, we're going to have to find out for ourselves."

"Nothing new there," Ron muttered.

Harry shook his head. "I'm going to ask anyway. Slytherin might tell me a bit more."

Hermione shot him a curious look. "The two of you seem to be getting along quite well."

"Why wouldn't we? He doesn't think Muggle-borns are scum, and he hates what Voldemort is doing almost as much as I do." He shrugged. "And he's been a damn sight more helpful than half the adults back home."

Ron nodded. "Those dream wards he put up have been great."

Harry stared at him. "I didn't know you got nightmares."

Ron's ears went pink. "Not as bad as yours. Mostly about Aragog or Dad..." His voice trailed off and he shivered.

"I dream about the Basilisk sometimes," Hermione admitted. "And about the Dementors in third year."

Harry's stomach twisted. While Ron and Hermione hadn't been there for all of his adventures, they had still been through more than most adults twice their age. "I didn't realise," he said quietly.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "You've got more important things to worry about." It wasn't mocking, just a simple statement of fact. "And Slytherin's wards have helped. I'll have to ask him about them before we leave."

"I wouldn't mind knowing more myself," Harry agreed. He didn't know how effective they would be about his visions, but they had been brilliant against his normal dreams.

"By the way, Harry," began Ron, casually, "did Slytherin and Hufflepuff manage to work out what's going on with your scar?"

Harry froze, taken aback by the sudden subject change. "What?"

"Well, you said they were going to look at it, but you never told us if they found anything."

Harry forced himself to shrug. "They said I'm fine. They want to look at it again at some point to make sure."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What's really going on, Harry?"

"What? Hermione, I told you, I'm fine."

"Yea, but usually when you say that it means you aren't," Ron pointed out.

Why couldn't they just leave it alone? Harry was just opening his mouth to tell him to mind his own business when Hufflepuff's words from that day flashed through his mind. They would want to help. Seeing the genuine concern in their faces, he knew it was the truth. He sighed, anger dissipating as quickly as it had come.

"Yeah. They found something." He kept his eyes on the page in front of him as he continued. "They both said there was Dark magic in there. They don't know what it is, but Slytherin said it was powerful. And they don't know what it's doing."

There was silence for a long moment. Harry steeled himself for their reactions; he knew they would be upset that he hadn't told them, but he could handle that. It was their pity he could not stand.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione whispered.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to worry you," he replied. "I was going to tell you when they worked out what it is." Neither spoke and he risked a glance up. Hermione was biting her lip, her eyes wide with concern. Ron just stared at him. Harry shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"They did say it wasn't doing any harm."

"But you just said that they don't know what it is," said Ron.

Harry grimaced. "They don't, but they seemed fairly sure that it wasn't actively hurting me. Slytherin promised to find out what it is and how to remove it."

Ron blinked. "He did?"

Harry nodded. "I didn't even have to ask." He managed a small smile. "Another reason not to hate him."

"And you're sure you're okay?"

Harry looked down at his hands. "I'm just glad that something's going to be done about it."

Ron held his gaze for a moment. "All right. I still wish you'd told us earlier though."

"Sorry. Didn't want to worry you."

Hermione sighed. "We know, but that only makes us worry more. We want to help, but we can't if we don't know what's wrong."

Ron grunted in agreement. "At least we know now." He fixed Harry with a sharp look. "You will tell us what they find, won't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. If they find anything."

"They will," Hermione assured him. "We will find a way to fix this."

Harry smiled back at her. "I know. Thanks." He turned back to the book, his heart suddenly feeling much lighter. It looked like Hufflepuff had been right after all.

They worked quite comfortably for the next hour or so. Or rather, Hermione worked. Ron and Harry spent the time discussing Duelling, Potions, and chess, not to mention the Founders themselves. In the end it was Hermione, exasperated by their lack of progress, who suggested they break for lunch.

"We can finish this later."

"Unless the Founders have stuff for us to do," Harry pointed out.

"We can hope," Ron muttered.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and proceeded to ignore them for the rest of the trip. Harry was just considering how best to make it up to her when they arrived at the Great Hall, when all other thoughts went out of his head at the sight of the four Founders seated at the table.

They were not all right. Gryffindor wasn't smiling, and even from a distance, Harry could see that Ravenclaw was still a little too pale. Hufflepuff, meanwhile, was picking at her food with none of her usual enthusiasm. The only one who appeared anywhere near normal was Slytherin, but he was so reserved that even on a good day he was impossible to read. Still, it was a relief to see them all after the rather subduing events of the previous day.

Slytherin was the first to notice them. Harry saw him lean forwards, and a moment later, both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff turned to greet them.

"Ah, there you are," called Gryffindor. "Come and join us."

Harry hesitated, but the welcome in his face was genuine, and the smiles of the others eased the last of the tension. He walked across and took the seat next to Hufflepuff. Hermione sat opposite him, only too happy to sit by Ravenclaw, while Ron seated himself on Harry's other side. Hufflepuff smiled at the three of them.

"And how are you all today?" she asked.

"Very well, thank you," said Hermione. "We've been in the library all morning."

Ravenclaw nodded. "Excellent. I am glad you put the time to good use."

"We do apologise for having to postpone your lessons," said Hufflepuff. "There were a few other matters that required our attention."

"We understand," Harry assured her. He hesitated, but decided it couldn't do any harm to ask. "Is everything all right?"

Gryffindor gave a tired smile. "It will be. Do not worry about it."

Harry still had questions, but he knew when to hold his tongue. Hermione caught his drift and turned to Ravenclaw.

"I was reading some of the Arithmancy texts. I've never come across Cicero in that context before."

Ravenclaw smiled. "It is not what he is generally known for, but he does provide a fascinating perspective, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes, especially when you contrast his theory with Clodius'."

"It is when you add Cato and Ptolemy that it really gets interesting," put in Gryffindor, from Hufflepuff's other side. He chuckled at the surprise on Hermione's face. "I do not limit myself to Charms and Duelling."

"No, you missed out practical jokes," Ravenclaw remarked.

Gryffindor's eyes twinkled. "I have no idea what you mean."

Hufflepuff raised an eyebrow. "Then the incident last week..."

"Can I help it if Charles is creative?"

"You mean an excellent mimic," Ravenclaw muttered.

"He is that too," Gryffindor admitted. "But you must admit that his spellwork is impressive."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ron. "Sounds like your brothers."

"Pranksters?"

Hermione sighed. "You have no idea."

Harry grinned at that, but he was careful to keep one eye on Slytherin. Closer inspection had confirmed his earlier suspicions; there were dark rings under the Founder's eyes, and he had barely touched his food. Harry looked away and met Gryffindor's watchful gaze. From the concern in his eyes, he was not the only one to have noticed Slytherin's mood, but Gryffindor just gave a slight shrug and sighed. Harry got the message; there was nothing they could do, and forcing the issue would not help matters. He turned back to his own food, but his good mood had evaporated.

In the end though, he actually ended up enjoying the meal. Gryffindor kept the atmosphere light by relating tales of some of his more inventive students, and Ron was happy to reciprocate with a few of the twins' exploits. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff appreciated the effort, and even Ravenclaw was laughing when they heard about the fireworks. Slytherin remained quieter than usual, but Harry noticed him smiling more and more frequently as the meal progressed.

As soon as they had finished, Ron turned expectantly to the Founders.

"So, what are we doing today?"

Gryffindor smiled. "Actually, that will depend on you."

Harry shot him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

The Founders shared a brief look, before Gryffindor turned back to Harry. "All three of you have been working hard, and we are very pleased with your progress so far. Therefore, if you feel you are ready, we are willing to begin teaching you Occlumency."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Brilliant!" Finally, he would learn how to do it properly. Ron was beaming too, but Hermione's eyes had narrowed.

"Wait, you said that it would depend on us?"

Gryffindor nodded. "Indeed I did." He turned to his friend. "Salazar?"

Salazar stirred, and for the first time gave them his full attention. "Because before we begin, you must understand that these will not be like your other lessons. If we do teach you, you will not be in control. We will be entering your minds, seeing your memories and hearing your thoughts, and you will not be able to stop it."

Harry grimaced. He knew just how true that was. Slytherin's gaze flickered to him briefly before he continued.

"None of us will ever betray that information, but the fact remains that this will not be easy. If you do not trust us with what we might find, then this endeavour will not be successful." He looked round, meeting each gaze in turn. "So the question we must ask you is simple. Do you trust us?"

Harry was silent. A week ago he would have said yes simply because they were the Founders, with the exception of Slytherin. Now though... He thought of the way Gryffindor was teaching them to defend themselves, and Ravenclaw trying to get them home. How Hufflepuff was always there when their situation became too much. And Slytherin, who had every reason to hate them for the things they had said, but instead had done all he could to help them. Harry looked directly into Slytherin's eyes and nodded.

"Yes. I trust you."

"Me too," said Ron.

Hermione nodded. "And me."

All the Founders relaxed at that, and only then did Harry realise how tense they had been. It was a strange feeling. Slytherin gave him a small smile.

"Thank you." He nodded to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. "Ever since we heard of your interest, we have been discussing who would be best to teach each of you."

Harry straightened slightly. He found he didn't really mind who would be teaching him, but he did have a few suspicions. He wasn't at all surprised when Gryffindor turned to Ron.

"I will be working with you, unless you have any objections."

Ron looked like Christmas had come early. "Not bloody likely. I mean, that would be great," he added quickly.

Hufflepuff chuckled at his reaction. "We didn't think so." She glanced at Hermione. "Meanwhile, I would be delighted to teach you, my dear. Rowena has a certain, shall we say distaste, for Legilimency."

"That would be putting it mildly," Gryffindor murmured. His grin only widened at the scathing look Ravenclaw directed his way.

"You are well aware of my views on invasions of privacy," she said sharply. "But I will agree that the ability to guard your mind is a useful one."

Hermione gave Hufflepuff a shy smile. "I'd like that, thanks."

"My pleasure, dear."

Harry nodded to himself. He had expected as much; Ron needed someone who could give him confidence in himself, while Hermione needed to learn to trust someone else to take care of everyone. As for him, well, he just needed someone who really did understand what he had been through.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up as Slytherin called his name. The Founder tilted his head to one side slightly, and Harry read the unspoken question. Slowly, he nodded.

"Works for me."

The first genuine smile Harry had seen from him all day flashed across Slytherin's face, and Harry couldn't help grinning back. Ravenclaw looked round at them all and nodded.

"Excellent. And while you are doing so, I will continue to search for a way to get you home."

Harry's grin widened so much his cheeks started aching. This day was just getting better and better. Ron and Hermione had also brightened considerably at the news. Gryffindor smiled at them.

"It will take some time," he warned. "But we think it is possible." He glanced at Ravenclaw. "Will you be visiting your family later then?"

Ravenclaw nodded. "It has been some time, and although I moved most of our texts here, Father kept some that may prove useful. I will also see if I can find a way to help your eyes," she said, glancing at Harry.

"Thank you." He had felt more secure since Gryffindor charmed his glasses, but it would still be a relief not to need them at all.

"So we'll be having Occlumency this afternoon?" asked Ron.

Gryffindor nodded. "It will take some time to build your defences, and we do not know how long we will have. Best not waste time."

Harry looked down at his empty plate, his enthusiasm fading. The memories of Snape's lessons were still very vivid, and the thought of any more was a depressing one. He gave himself a mental shake; if Slytherin's Occlumency lessons were anything like his Potions classes, he didn't have anything to worry about.

"Will Helena be accompanying you?" Hufflepuff asked Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw sighed. "She expressed her desire to remain here quite strenuously."

Gryffindor reached across to take her hand. "I expect she just wants some peace. It has been a busy term, after all."

"I know, but her attitude is troubling." She shook her head. "I am sure it will be fine." Her confidence was rather obviously forced. Harry's attention had been caught by the mention of Helena, but Hufflepuff caught his eyes and shook his head.

"It is nothing for you to be concerned about," she murmured.

Harry sighed, but Slytherin removed the temptation altogether by rising to his feet. "Well then, as Godric has said, there is little sense in wasting time. Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry stood up too. "Yes, sir." He managed to smile at Ron and Hermione. "Good luck."

"You too."

Gryffindor caught his gaze. "You will be fine," he said quietly.

"Thank you." He took a deep breath, and strode out of the Hall. Slytherin was waiting just outside.

"We will be conducting these lessons in my study," he said. "We have found that an informal setting is more conducive to good results."

Harry nodded. Maybe that had been part of the problem; Snape's office was not exactly the most cheerful of places. Though Snape could make the Gryffindor common room seem like a place of doom.

"Harry?"

Harry started. "Sorry?"

"You were miles away." Underneath the amusement was a distinct tinge of concern. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, sir." Slytherin raised an eyebrow, and Harry couldn't help himself. "Are you?"

Slytherin blinked at him. "Why would I not be?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "We didn't see you yesterday," he mumbled. "And after what Professor Gryffindor said, well..."

"I see." For a moment he continued to look nonplussed, but shook his head. "I assure you, I am quite well. It was merely an unpleasant surprise."

Harry frowned. "You know none of us believe that, right? There must be more to it or you wouldn't all react like that." His frustration was rapidly rising again. "Why won't you tell us what's going on? We could help."

Slytherin stopped then, and the expression on his face made Harry shiver. "No, you could not. I do not doubt your courage," he said, as Harry opened his mouth, "but you are not ready for this. You have no idea what they are like."

Harry scowled at the floor. "Hermione said the same thing."

"And she was quite right to do so." His voice softened slightly. "We appreciate your concern, but this is not your fight. Godric and I will manage."

Harry sighed. "You aren't going to tell me anything else, are you?"

"Tell me about the graveyard and I might."

Harry froze as those memories surged through his mind. He wouldn't, couldn't, talk about that. "No."

To his surprise, Slytherin just nodded. "I did not think so. Some things are not meant to be spoken of." He was facing Harry, but his eyes were unfocused and Harry couldn't help but wonder what he was really seeing. After a moment though, he seemed to come back to himself. "But others should be, and their effect is lessened in the telling."

Harry looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. "I've spoken to people about it."

"And did it help?"

Harry shrugged. "A bit. Not as much as they thought. They just-"

"Didn't understand," Slytherin finished softly.

"Yeah. They think they do, but they don't."

"And it makes you angry."

"All the time," Harry whispered. He looked up to meet Slytherin's eyes again. "Does it get easier?"

"Easier?" Slytherin repeated. "No, it never gets easier. But it does get better, especially if there are people willing to shoulder the burden with you." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You can get through it. There will be days when you think otherwise, but you are stronger than you realise."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out again. Maybe there was someone who understood after all. Seeing the change in his face, Slytherin stepped back.

"You will be fine," he said. "But if you do ever need to talk..."

"I will remember," said Harry. And for once he meant it. After a moment he added quietly, "Thanks."

Slytherin inclined his head. "You are welcome." Without another word, he continued along the corridor. Harry followed, feeling easier than he had in quite a while.

The walked in silence until they reached the dungeons, and took the passage that led to the classroom. As they did, Slytherin glanced back over his shoulder.

"How did you find your Potions lesson? Before we were so rudely interrupted, that is."

Harry grinned. "It was brilliant. I mean, I've known the method since third year, but I've never known why we did any of it. It makes a lot more sense now."

Slytherin's smile this time was completely genuine. "I am glad to hear it. I was concerned that your previous experiences would colour your judgement."

Harry shook his head. "Trust me, it was as far from one of Snape's lessons as you could possibly get." His tone turned thoughtful. "You know, before I started at Hogwarts I was really curious about Potions. I liked the apothecary, and the books I got were really interesting. With any other teacher, I probably would have loved it."

Slytherin shot him an appraising look. "You do show a lot of potential."

Harry blinked. "Huh? Snape always said-"

"I think we have already established that Snape is not the most objective of teachers," Slytherin remarked. "Your technique was generally acceptable, and you understood the concepts easily enough once they were explained to you."

"They made sense," said Harry. "I can't wait for the next one." He paused. "Never thought I'd say that about Potions."

Slytherin's lips twitched into a smile. "I would be happy to show you some additional potions, should you desire it."

Harry stared at him. "Really?"

"Why not? You have the ability, and certainly the enthusiasm." His smile became a smirk. "And just think how you would be able to surprise Snape when you return."

Harry couldn't help laughing at the thought. "He'd think he was losing his mind. Thanks."

"My pleasure. Talent should be nurtured, not crushed."

Harry nodded. "Wish Snape thought the same." His grin faded. "Going back to his lessons is going to be awful."

"You will be able to research the potions yourself," Slytherin pointed out. "And the experience will be useful."

"I guess, but it won't be as much fun."

Slytherin sighed, but didn't reply. A minute later he came to a halt outside another door.

"Here we are." There was a brief flare of magic, then he pushed it open and entered. Harry followed.

It was the first time Harry had been in this particular office, and he didn't even try to restrain his curiosity. Despite being underground it was well-lit and spacious, and there was a distinct, and very welcome, lack of creepy ingredients in jars. Packed bookcases lined the walls, and a large desk sat opposite them, behind which were two doors. One was open, and Harry could see that it led to a potions workshop. The other was closed, and Harry guessed it led to Slytherin's private chambers.

"Well?"

Harry looked round to find Slytherin watching him with open amusement. He grinned.

"Much better than Snape's."

"I should hope so." He waved Harry to one of the chairs in front of the small fire. "Make yourself comfortable."

Harry took a seat, grateful for the warmth. It was a sunny day, but the dungeons were never the warmest of places.

"What made you choose to stay down here?"

Slytherin grimaced. "Let us just say it was safer for all concerned." Then his eyes gleamed. "And the others were tired of being woken by explosions in the middle of the night."
Harry laughed. "I can imagine. Why the middle of the night?"

"I never sleep very much," Slytherin explained. "And I cannot abide doing nothing. But that is quite enough of that. I believe it is you we are here to help."

Harry sighed. This was the bit he had not been looking forward to. There was no denying the fact that he had to learn though. He squared his shoulders and looked up.

"All right."

Slytherin nodded approvingly. "Now then, I understand you have had lessons before."

"If you can call them that," Harry muttered.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't react to that. "I would like you to relate everything Snape taught you, and describe a typical lesson."

Harry grimaced, but he could see the logic behind the request. He took a moment to order his thoughts, and then proceeded to tell Slytherin everything he could remember about those abortive lessons. Slytherin listened without interrupting and, try as he might, Harry couldn't read his expression. Only once he had fallen silent did Slytherin stir.

"It could have been worse," he murmured.

Harry stared at him. "But I didn't learn a thing!"

"How hard did you try?" Harry fell silent and he continued. "What you have just described is a classic method of teaching. Repeated intrusion forces the mind to recognise an intruder and react accordingly until you are able do to do so without thinking about it. Controlling your emotions, meanwhile, will make it easier for you to detect when you are under attack, and will also reduce the chances of becoming distracted at a critical moment."

Harry stared at the floor. "I thought he was just attacking for the hell of it. I didn't know there was a reason." It sounded stupid to his own ears, but Slytherin just sighed.

"Yet another consequence of Snape failing to explain things properly. Your mutual antagonism will not have helped matters."

Harry looked up. "You aren't mad?"

"Not that I know of, though some would disagree."

Harry had to smile at that. "I meant angry."

Sytherin's eyes twinkled. "Of course. No, I am not angry. Under the circumstances, your attitude is perfectly understandable. Though I trust you will put rather more effort into these lessons." Despite his mild tone, Harry couldn't suppress a shiver.

"I will." He had learned his lesson about not trying in Occlumency.

Slytherin held his gaze briefly, and then nodded. "In that case, I see no reason why you should not be able to master this."

Harry didn't bother trying to suppress his grin. First Potions, now Occlumency... Snape wasn't going to believe his eyes. Slytherin correctly interpreted his expression.

"I believe you have the potential to do so, but that does not mean it will be easy."

Harry nodded. "I know, and I will work hard."

Slytherin smiled. "In that case, there is only one more matter we must discuss."

Harry shot him a quizzical look. "Huh?" What else could there be?

Slytherin continued to smile, but his gaze had turned steely. "The Dursleys."

Harry froze. He had completely forgotten, had thought Slytherin had forgotten... "There's nothing to discuss."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Do not lie to me, Harry. I know what I saw when you first arrived."

Harry kept his mouth clamped shut, but his heart was racing. He had no desire to talk about the Dursleys; given Slytherin's feelings towards Muggles he was under no illusions as to what his reaction would be. Slytherin continued to stare at him.

"I am about to view your memories," he said quietly. "Do you really think you will be able to hide anything from me?" His expression turned deadly. "If they hurt you-"

"They didn't."

"Harry..."

"I'm telling you they never did anything. Can we drop it now?" Slytherin just looked at him. "What?"

"Tell me what they did, Harry." It was not a question, and there was no denying the power in the Founder's voice.

"It was just little things," Harry mumbled. "They didn't like me getting more than Dudley. Food, presents, money, it didn't matter, he had to have more."

"Go on."

Harry twitched at the ice in his voice, but now that he had started it was easier to continue. "Dudley picked on me a lot, and they never stopped him. His friends helped sometimes too." He smirked. "I was usually too fast for them, though."

Slytherin nodded. "I see. And the cupboard? I saw him lock you in there," he said, when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "Did that happen often?"

Harry glared at him. "Why does it even matter? There's nothing you can do about it; they're not here, and it all happened years ago anyway."

"It matters because no child should be treated like that," Slytherin snarled. "How were they able to get away with this?"

Harry shrugged. "No one checked. They didn't even realise my letter was addressed to my cupboard."

Slytherin froze. "What did you say?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed helplessly. "Er-"

"Why would your letter be addressed to a cupboard? No, your cupboard?" Harry didn't answer, but he didn't have to. Slytherin's face was a mask of fury. "How dare they?"

Harry noticed with alarm that he was literally shaking with rage, and for the first time in a while he felt a surge of fear. "Professor," he began, but Slytherin held up a hand. Harry fell silent, but his concern only rose when Slytherin closed his eyes and steepled his fingers. There was complete silence.

It seemed like hours, but could only have been a couple of minutes before Slytherin's tremors stilled. He spoke without opening his eyes.

"Do you still sleep there?"

"No," said Harry quietly. "They moved me to a ...spare bedroom when my letter arrived."

"And their behaviour towards you?"

Harry let out a long sigh of frustration. "Look, they never hit me. Well, Uncle Vernon did a couple of times, but only when he'd been to the pub, and even then it was never serious. Aunt Petunia just shouted a lot, and I could usually outrun Dudley." He shook his head. "Now we just ignore each other, and that's the way we all prefer it. I'm usually only there for a few weeks a year, anyway."

Slytherin opened his eyes at that. "You should not be there at all. Surely there were other people who would have been happy to take you."

Harry shifted in his seat. "It's a bit complicated. I don't know all of it, but Dumbledore thought me living there was for the best."

Slytherin stared at him. "Dumbledore put you there?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And he never thought to make sure you were all right?"

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He couldn't argue; he had often wondered the same thing. Slytherin shook his head.

"Unbelievable."

"Why do you even care so much? You barely know me." The words came out before he could stop himself. Slytherin just looked at him.

"You are my student," he said simply. "Your welfare is my concern." His eyes darkened. "And I meant what I said earlier. No child should be forced to endure that."

Harry hesitated as something in the Founder's eyes caught his attention. "Did you?"

Slytherin's expression became unreadable. "My parents would never do such a thing."

Harry recognised an evasion when he heard it. "Neither would mine."

Slytherin nodded. "Point." He let out a long sigh. "You know that I studied the Dark Arts?"

Harry blinked at the change, but nodded. "Professor Gryffindor told us."

The smile he received held not a single trace of humour. "Dark lords are not the kindest of teachers." He closed his eyes. "You should not have had to go through that."

Harry looked away. If that was true, then his reaction made a lot more sense. "The Dursleys weren't like that," he said quietly. "They hate me, and the feeling is mutual, but they did take me in and look after me. Now they're too scared to do anything, and I'm hardly ever there. As soon as I'm of age I'll leave, and never go back." He took a deep breath and released it. "It's fine."

For a long moment Slytherin didn't move, but eventually he sighed. "I do not like it, but there is very little I can do about it." His eyes opened and he fixed Harry with a sharp look. "You are not in danger there?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't like it, but I can put up with it."

Slytherin sighed again. "All this because of your magic. It seems Muggles will never change."

Harry frowned at the venom in his voice. The Dursleys might be horrible, but there were plenty of Muggles who weren't.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You may."

Harry briefly reflected that this probably wasn't the best idea, but Slytherin had answered most of his questions, even if he didn't like them. "Why do you hate Muggles so much? They're not all like the Dursleys; Hermione's Muggle-born and her parents are great."

"Then she is fortunate," said Slytherin quietly. "But not all Muggles are so accepting, and some are considerably more vocal in their hatred than your relatives."

Harry thought back to what Gryffindor had said on their first day, and to his History lessons. "You mean like the witch hunts and burnings?"

Slytherin's face was like stone. "Precisely."

Harry swallowed. "Right. Sorry." He had more questions, but he certainly wasn't going to ask them now.

Slytherin shook his head. "You are not to blame." He pulled himself together with a visible effort. "Is there anything else I should be aware of before we begin?"

Harry thought back over the years and winced. "We may have got into a bit more trouble."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "A bit?"

"...A lot."

Slytherin just sighed. "Then we will deal with that as and when we come to it."

Harry grimaced at that, but didn't try to protest. "So, what am I supposed to do?"

"For now, try to relax."

After everything they had just discussed? Slytherin gave a brief smile. "Deep breaths, Harry. How are you finding the meditation exercises?"

"Hard," Harry admitted. "I keep getting distracted."

"I am not surprised given all that has been happening. It will become easier with practise. Try again now."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, but his mind was still spinning with thoughts of Voldemort and the Dursleys.

"He's not very good, is he?"

Harry's eyes flew open at the unfamiliar voice. "What the hell?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "My apologies, Harry. This is Zith, my familiar."

As Harry watched, a small green head extended from Slytherin's sleeve and regarded Harry with bright intelligent eyes. Harry glared at it.

"There's no need to be rude," he snapped. "I've only been doing this a couple of days."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

"It said I wasn't very good. Of course I'm not; I've had barely any practise." He suddenly realised that both Slytherin and the snake were staring at him. "What?"

"You understood her," said Slytherin slowly.

Oh. That. "I'm a Parselmouth. Sorry, I forgot about that."

An eyebrow rose. "You forgot?"

Harry shifted under the scrutiny. "I don't use it very often."

"Intriguing," said Zith. She came out and raised herself up to study him. "I apologise. Speakers are rare." Her eyes gleamed. "I am curious. You did not seem to realise what you were doing."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't. It sounded like normal English to me."

Slytherin frowned. "You really cannot tell the difference?"

"No? Why, is something wrong?" he asked when the pair exchanged bemused looks.

"Not wrong as such," said Slytherin after a moment. "Merely peculiar. My sister and I have always been able to tell when we are speaking Parseltongue."

Harry grimaced. "Probably because it's not really me doing it."

"I do not understand."

"Professor Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort transferred some of his powers into me when he tried to kill me," Harry explained. "That's why I get visions and can talk to snakes; Voldemort can do it."

Slytherin's frown deepened. "I have never heard of powers being transferred like that. I do not know how it would be possible."

Harry shrugged. "I just know what Dumbledore told me."

"I see." That is most interesting." He was silent for a long minute, then shook his head. "But that is a mystery for another time. If you are ready, I would like to try to enter your mind."

Harry felt a familiar surge of apprehension. "What do I do?"

"For now, nothing." Seeing Harry's confusion, he elaborated. "We will start building your defences later. All I want you to do now is learn how to recognise when someone is attempting to enter your mind."

Harry sighed. That made sense, but it didn't make the thought of his memories being on display any easier. Slytherin met his gaze.

"I will not look at anything you do not want me to see," he said quietly. "Nor will I reveal anything I see without your permission. You have my word."

Snape had never made such a promise. Slowly, Harry nodded.

"All right." He sat up straighter and took a deep breath. "Ready."

"Then look at me."

Harry looked him in the eye. A moment later he twitched as a memory of Uncle Vernon yelling flashed before his eyes.

"What the-?"

"Did you feel anything" Slytherin asked. He looked as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing." He felt a rush of dismay. This was never going to work.

"I would not expect you to." Harry shot him a startled look at he elaborated. "I have been doing this for a very long time Harry, and to far more dangerous minds than yours." He gave a wry smile. "When being caught means death, you develop a very light touch." He continued before Harry's startled mind could formulate a response to that. "That was an example of the highest form of Legilimency. Silent, virtually undetectable, and requiring only eye contact. Only someone who maintained constant shields would have noticed anything."

"Like you?"

Slytherin inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Indeed. But you should not be overly concerned about that. There are few who possess that level of skill. Usually there are signs, if you know what to look for."

Harry nodded. "Show me."

This time, he did feel a light pressure before finding himself in the middle of Diagon Alley. Slytherin released the attack immediately.

"What about that time?"

"Yeah, definitely felt that."

"Good. You may also experience some dizziness or disorientation." His eyes darkened. "And, if your attacker is less concerned about secrecy, there will likely be some discomfort too."

That he was familiar with. "Right."

"Now that you can recognise an attack, we will begin learning how to defend against one."

"Those shields you were talking about?"
Slytherin shook his head. "They will take considerably more work. We will concentrate on those another time. All I want you to do now is try to repel the attack when you feel it."

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay. How?"

"When you feel the attack, push back as hard as you can," Slytherin said. "You will have to be quick."

Harry tried. As soon as the pressure came he tried to force it back, but it was too late. He scowled as Slytherin released him.

"Sorry. I was too slow."

"There is no need to apologise. This is not an easy skill to master."

"It would probably be easier if you relaxed," Zith put it. She was watching from where she was curled on the arm of the chair closest to the fire.

Harry glanced at her. "How do you know?"

"I use my eyes. You are very tense."

"I wonder why?" Slytherin might be gentler than Snape, but it was still hard work. And now he was talking to a snake too. He sighed and tuned back to Slytherin, who had been watching the exchange with interest.

"Again?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Are you aware that you are still speaking Parseltongue?"

Harry blinked. "I am?"

"That wasn't. Most peculiar." He shook himself. "You reacted well, if a little late. Let us try again."

Harry concentrated, but he couldn't help thinking back to the last time he had spoken Parseltongue. The distraction cost him; he wasn't able to react in time, and the next thing he knew he was in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry felt a sudden sense of shock around him, and realised with a sinking heart that Slytherin knew nothing of this. Both of them could only watch as Riddle summoned forth the Basilisk, and Harry felt shock turn to horror as it was given its orders. There was an old, familiar surge of terror as the monster turned towards him, then there was a sudden lurch and he was back in Slytherin's office.

Harry took a deep breath. It might have happened years ago, but the memory was still vivid enough to give him nightmares. After a moment he looked up to find Slytherin staring at him, his eyes wide with dismay.

"What was that?"

Harry swallowed. "Er..."

"What did she think she was doing?" To Harry's surprise, he forced himself to his feet and began pacing. "She knows she is never to harm a student, it was one of the first things I told her! How can she have forgotten?" He suddenly whirled on Harry. "Were you hurt?"

Harry considered lying, but the memory of Slytherin's Legilimency prowess was too fresh. "Er, she sort of bit me-"

"What?"

"But I was fine," said Harry quickly. "Professor Dumbledore has a phoenix and it cried and I was fine."

Slytherin collapsed back into his chair. "Thank God for that." He shook his head. "How could she behave like that? She is supposed to protect you."

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the pain in his voice. "I don't think it was really her fault. She didn't talk much, but when she did, she sounded a bit...insane." he sighed. "After a thousand years alone, I probably would be too."

Slytherin passed a shaking hand across his face. "A thousand years..." He raised his head, and Harry felt a chill at the rage in his eyes. "And who was the scum that took advantage of her?"

"What?"

"The boy," Slytherin snapped. "Who was he?"

Harry winced, but there was no denying the power in Slytherin's voice. "Tom Riddle."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed to slits. "Voldemort? But how is that possible?"

"He stored memories of his time as a student in a diary," Harry explained. "When Ginny wrote in it the memory was able to possess her, but he then tried to use her energy to regain a body. He was destroyed when I stabbed the diary with the Basilisk fang..." His voice trailed off as he realised Slytherin was staring at the fire and looked like he hadn't heard a word he was saying. "Professor?"

Slytherin didn't move his gaze from the flames. "Voldemort is a Parselmouth."

Harry stared at him. "Yeah. That's how I got my powers, remember?"

"You do not understand. Any Parselmouth could gain access to the Chamber, but do you really think I would allow just anyone to master Issa?"

Harry froze. If Slytherin was saying what he thought he was... He desperately searched for something to say, but the words died when Slytherin's eyes locked on his.

"She would only answer to those who bear my blood," he whispered. "She would only kill for he who is my heir."

"Professor," Harry began, but Slytherin cut him off.

"So this is why my name is hated, my house despised? That devil's spawn is my heir?"

"Sir-"

"Tell me!"

The denial died on Harry's lips. "Yes. He is." He looked away, unable to bear the desolation in Slytherin's eyes.

"My heir is responsible for these atrocities." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the self-loathing in it was enough to freeze Harry in place. Slowly, Slytherin rose to his feet. "All of this for nothing."

Harry opened his mouth, but before he could say even one word, the Founder was gone.

For a moment, Harry could only sit there, stunned into silence. Then his brain caught up with him and he jumped to his feet.

"Where are you?" he cried, more in frustration than out of hope for an answer. So he almost jumped out of his skin when one came.

"Outside."

Harry looked down to find Zith still curled on the arm of the chair. "What do you mean, outside?"

"That is where he always goes." She fixed him with a sharp look. "I suggest you hurry."

Harry didn't waste time trying to think about it. He wrenched open the door and sprinted down the passage way, cursing his own carelessness as he did so. He should have known Slytherin would react like that, if someone had told him his heir was going to be a monster... Harry forced the thought aside and ran on, his only thought to minimise the damage before anything else happened.

A minute later he burst out into the Entrance Hall, but what he saw made him stop dead in astonishment. The massive doors had been left open to take advantage of the sunshine and he could see out into the grounds, but the sight was not what he had expected. Thick black clouds covered the previously clear sky, and the wind was beginning to howl. Even as he watched, there was a flash followed by a dull rumble of thunder, and fat droplets of rain began to fall. Harry stumbled forwards, momentarily struck dumb by the sudden change, but as he stared out he suddenly found himself frozen in place.

For Slytherin stood in the centre of the grounds, his back to the castle, arms raised to the sky and white magic crackling round his body. Harry could only stand there and watch in rising horror as the magic blazed and the skies responded. What the hell had he done?

Chapter 8: Storms and Secrets

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

This was bad. Harry had never seen magic like this before, but he did not need Hermione to tell him that stirring a storm of that magnitude was not a good sign. Slytherin was powerful, all the Founders were, but not even he could maintain something like this for long. A surge of guilt rose up; it was his fault this was happening. Harry broke into a run. Maybe if he could get to Slytherin he could talk to him, make him see sense...

Harry was almost at the door when a strong arm caught him round the chest.

"Harry-"

"Let me go!" He tried to break free, but the person was too strong.

"Enough, Harry!"

This time he recognised the voice, and Harry froze as he realised he was fighting Godric Gryffindor. The Founder took full advantage of his shock.

"You will stay where you are, do you understand?" For once, there was not a trace of humour in his voice, but another crack of thunder only added to Harry's fears.

"But Slytherin-"

"There is nothing you can do for him now," Gryffindor snapped. "And if you try, you are likely to get yourself killed." As if to prove his point, another flash of lightning split the sky and hit a tree.

Harry stopped struggling. "He wouldn't do that." He cursed the uncertainty in his voice, but Gryffindor just sighed.

"At this point, it is not a question of what he would do, but what he could do. Believe me, he would never want you to risk your safety for him."

Harry did not reply as he watched the storm rage. As much as he wanted to help, needed to help, he knew that Gryffindor was telling the truth. There was nothing he could do, and the last thing he wanted was to make things worse.

"You can let me go now," he said quietly. "I won't do anything."

Gryffindor nodded and released him. "Thank you. He would never forgive himself if he were to harm anyone."

Harry couldn't help another glance outside. "Will he be all right?"

Gryffindor flinched as the roar of the wind increased. "Come back inside, Harry. No sense in getting too wet."

Harry frowned, but his desire for answers faded when he saw Ron standing just behind them, his freckled face very pale.

"You all right, mate?"

Harry nodded, but before he could reply there was a soft crack and Hufflepuff appeared with Hermione. Hermione looked completely bewildered, but Hufflepuff's face was grimmer than Harry had ever seen it.

"I thought it best to collect some potions," she said to Gryffindor. Despite her calm air, there was an unmistakeable tremor in her voice. "How is he?"

Gryffindor just shook his head. "Not good."

Hufflepuff's breath caught as she stared out into the grounds. "My God," she whispered.

Gryffindor nodded. "I have not seen him this bad..." His eyes darkened, and whatever he was about to say went unsaid.

Harry stared at them. Judging by their reactions, this sort of thing was not uncommon, but if it was as bad as they were saying, why weren't they doing anything? He opened his mouth but, typically, Hermione got there first.

"Excuse me," she said, somewhat timidly, "but could you please tell us what is going on?"

The Founders both started at the question, but given all that was happening, Harry could hardly blame them for their distraction. Gryffindor sighed.

"We all have our ways of dealing with stress," he said quietly. "Salazar's is a little different to most."

Harry snorted at the size of that understatement, but Ron was frowning. "But he was fine an hour ago. What happened?"

Gryffindor's green eyes locked on Harry's. "That is what I would like to know."

Harry tensed as he became the centre of attention. "I didn't do anything."

"We know, Harry," said Hufflepuff, "but you are the only one who might know what has caused this reaction."

Harry stayed silent. There was no might about it; he knew exactly what was wrong. The question was, would Slytherin want everyone else to know too? Though judging by the way Hermione's eyes had narrowed, she at least had a good idea.

"Please, Harry," said Hufflepuff softly.

Something in her voice made Harry pause. Not the concern, that was only to be expected, but there was something else. Something deeper and stronger... And he was not the only one who needed his friends. He squared his shoulders and looked up to meet Hufflepuff's anxious gaze.

"There was a memory," he began. "From my second year." He ignored both Hermione's gasp and Ron's muffled curse, choosing instead to watch the Founders' reactions. "I learned something about Voldemort."

"And what would that be?" asked Gryffindor. Outwardly he was calm, but the tension was practically rolling off of him.

Harry took a deep breath. "Riddle's dad was a Muggle, but his mum was a witch." He swallowed, but didn't let himself stop. "A witch who was supposed to be the last descendent of Salazar Slytherin."

Gryffindor closed his eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "That would do it."

"Is it true?" asked Hufflepuff. Harry turned. Her face was ashen and there were tears in her eyes.

"Dumbledore thinks so. Voldemort is a Parselmouth too."

Gryffindor's face twisted into a bitter smile. "As if things were not bad enough." He looked up, and they could all see the pain in his eyes. "He blames himself."

It wasn't a question, but Harry nodded anyway. "He thinks he's responsible."

"But that's ridiculous," Hermione protested. "Voldemort won't even be born for centuries."

Hufflepuff sighed. "I am afraid Salazar sees things differently." Her gaze wandered to his slight figure, nearly invisible now through the pouring rain. "It is little wonder he reacted like this."

Hermione gestured at the weather. "That's another thing. How is this even possible? I thought it was too dangerous to manipulate nature like this."

"That would be because it is," said Gryffindor. "Trying to do so is sheer folly."

Harry stared out at the storm. "Then how is he doing it?"

The two Founders exchanged looks.

"Salazar is... different," said Gryffindor after a moment.

"He's a Storm-Caller."

Harry stared as he realised that that had come from Ron. The redhead had been silent throughout the discussion, his attention on the storm. Now though he turned to Gryffindor, his face pale. "Isn't he?"

Slowly Gryffindor nodded. "He is."

Harry stared at them, but Hermione drew in a sharp breath. "I thought that was a myth."

"It is a very real, albeit rare gift," Hufflepuff assured her. "As far as I know, there are no others living."

"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted. "What's a Storm-Caller?"

Gryffindor glanced at him. "Have you never heard of them?"

"There haven't been any recognised ones for centuries," said Ron. "I only know about them because Bill told me stories."

"And I read about them."

"But what are they?"

Gryffindor sighed. "You remember I told you that it was too dangerous to try to control the weather?" Harry nodded. "Well, there are some exceptions. Their magic is tied to the natural elements, allowing them to manipulate certain aspects with less risk than anyone else."

Harry eyes widened. "Wicked."

To his surprise, it was Ron who shook his head. "Not really. It's less risky, but it's still really dangerous. Besides, would you really want to risk doing that whenever you lost your temper?" He gestured out at the storm.

Harry swallowed. That was a very good point. Gryffindor nodded grimly.

"The storms do not like to be restrained. It took Salazar years to learn to control this properly."

Harry thought back over the past few days. The Founder's restraint now made a lot more sense, among other things. "He said he made sure his rooms were underground because it was safer for everyone."

"Strong emotions are dangerous," said Hufflepuff quietly. "Staying underground prevents him from stirring a storm whenever he has a nightmare."

Hermione shivered. "It sounds horrible."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Is he going to be okay?"

It was a long moment before Gryffindor replied. "We do not know."

"But you said this has happened before."

"It has, but every time is different. And you do not understand the amount of magic he is channelling right now." He sighed and added more quietly, "And even for him, this is a bad one."

Harry looked back out, his earlier concern flooding back with a vengeance. He couldn't imagine the amount of energy this must take.

"The lightning's stopped," said Ron suddenly. "So's the thunder."

Hufflepuff nodded. "Even his strength has limits. It should not be much longer."

"Thank goodness," Gryffindor muttered. "What was he thinking?"

The look Hufflepuff directed his way was more than a little reproachful. "It was not like he had a choice."

"No, but he should know better than to keep everything hidden for this long."

Harry frowned at that, and his confusion only deepened when Hufflepuff didn't even try to argue. Before he could question it though, Gryffindor shook his head.

"I think that is the worst of it." He turned to the three of them. "Stay here while I speak to him."

"But it's still raining," Ron protested.

Gryffindor gave him a wry smile. "A little rain won't hurt me." He nodded to Hufflepuff and headed outside. The downpour had slowed to a light shower, and Slytherin could now be seen more easily.

"He looks like he's going to fall over."

Hufflepuff grimaced. "That does not surprise me." She kept her eyes on the two of them. Harry followed her gaze; Gryffindor had just reached Slytherin and, not for the first time, Harry wished he could hear what they were saying. He could see enough to know that things were not going well.

"Professor," said Hermione. "There's something I don't understand."

It was with obvious reluctance that Hufflepuff tore her gaze from her friends, but she managed a small smile at Hermione. "What would that be, my dear?"

"Why would Professor Slytherin react like this now?"

Harry frowned. "Did you miss the part where he found out that a raving psychopath is his heir?"

"I know that, but why didn't he do this before? He was upset when we told him that everyone thinks he hates Muggle-borns, but he didn't make a storm."

Harry's frown darkened. That was actually a good point. "Yeah, he wasn't happy, but nothing like this."

"Salazar's control over his emotions is quite extraordinary," said Hufflepuff. "He was far more perturbed by your words than you may have realised."

"Then why was today different?" asked Ron.

Hufflepuff gave a sad smile. "Everybody has a breaking point," she said softly. "You are not the only ones to have found the past week difficult."

Harry shivered. The Founders, and Slytherin in particular, had certainly had a lot to think about. "So this was just the final straw?"

"Precisely." She sighed. "Hogwarts and his name are all that he has. Now he has learned that he has lost both to something he despises."

Harry felt sick at the thought. "I'm sorry. We never meant for this to happen."

"We know dear, and we understand, Salazar included."

The words were little comfort when he remembered the expression on Slytherin's face. "He's going to keep blaming himself, isn't he?"

"That is what Godric is trying to prevent."

"But you don't think he'll succeed," said Hermione quietly.

Hufflepuff's silence was all the answer they needed. Ron grimaced.

"It doesn't look like it's going well."

Harry turned to look for himself. He didn't have to be an expert in reading body language to see the utter misery Slytherin was exuding, or Gryffindor's growing concern. It didn't help that the rain was still falling; it was hard to picture a more miserable setting. He just wished there was something he could do.

A sudden thought struck Harry then and he turned to Hufflepuff. "Would it help if I talked to him?"

Ron stared at him. "You what?"

"I'm the one who's had the most to do with Voldemort," Harry explained. "It might help if I can convince Slytherin I don't blame him for any of it."

"I don't know, Harry," said Hermione doubtfully. "It might make things worse." She looked rather pointedly at the devastation wrought by the storm, but Hufflepuff shook her head.

"He would never do anything to harm you," she insisted. "And in his present condition, he would struggle to move a breeze."

"So I can try?"

There was a long pause before Hufflepuff replied, "It cannot do any harm." She sighed. "And you may indeed be the only person who can help him with this."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right." He had never been able to not do anything, but even he couldn't prevent an apprehensive glance at the sky. Hufflepuff caught his eye.

"He will not be able to stir another so soon," she said.

"Good," Ron muttered. He squared his shoulders. "Let's get on with it then."

Harr shot him a startled look. "You don't have to come if you don't want to." Ron hid it well, but Harry knew he was still wary of Slytherin. Somehow, he doubted this latest display would have helped matters. He recognised the stubborn glint in Ron's eyes though, and the sight did cheer him a bit.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course we are," said Hermione briskly. "He's our teacher too."

Harry smiled. "I'm not arguing." He wasn't that stupid.

Hufflepuff just shook her head. "Remarkable." A small, but genuine smile touched her lips. "Your kindness is very much appreciated."

Harry shuffled his feet. "Anyone else would do the same. It's not his fault, and he shouldn't be beating himself up about it."

"So we have told him, but..." She spread her hands helplessly. "Maybe you will be more fortunate."

"We can try," said Harry. He looked across to where Gryffindor and Slytherin were still talking. "So, shall we just go over there?"

Hufflepuff nodded. "They will not mind." She smiled at them, and led the way outside.

Harry kept a wary eye on Slytherin as they approached, but it soon became abundantly clear that there was no need. His face was bone grey, and he leaned on his staff like it was the only thing keeping him upright. From the way Gryffindor was hovering, it probably was.

"He looks awful," Ron muttered.

"Ron!"

"It is quite all right, my dear," Hufflepuff murmured. "These episodes do take a lot out of him."

Harry felt another surge of guilt. He would have tried even harder in their lesson had he known this would be the result. He silently vowed not to make that mistake again.

Slytherin was facing away from them, and so it was Gryffindor who first noticed their approach. His eyes widened and he started to shake his head, but his actions only served to alert Slytherin as to what was happening. He turned, and stumbled back.

"Harry."

He somehow managed to go even paler, and the shame and pain in his eyes only served to make Harry feel even worse. He met Harry's gaze, but his shoulders tensed as if he was expecting a blow or a curse. At the sight, Harry's carefully prepared words went straight out of his head.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Harry," Hermione hissed, but Harry was too incensed to listen.

"So Voldemort's your descendent, so what? That doesn't make him your responsibility. You didn't make him kill people, there's a thousand bloody years between you. How can you be blaming yourself for something that hasn't even happened yet?"

"But it has happened for you," said Slytherin quietly.

"And you had nothing to do with it! What good is half killing yourself going to do?"

For the first time, Harry saw Slytherin struck completely speechless. He opened his mouth, paused and closed it again. And he was not the only one. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were both staring at Harry, their eyes wide with astonishment. Only then did Harry realise what he had done, and he felt his knees go weak. He had just yelled at Salazar Slytherin.

"We are so dead," Ron mumbled.

His words jolted Harry to his senses, and he drew himself up. Maybe that had been rash, but he had meant every single word. Summoning up all his Gryffindor courage, he looked Slytherin straight in the eye. Slytherin just stared at him.

"He killed your parents."

"Him," Harry insisted. "Not you."

"He is my heir-"

"Still not you." Gryffindor managed a slight smile at that, and the sight bolstered his courage. "Look, I hate Voldemort, and I always will, but it's him I hate. I don't hate his parents or grandparents, so why should I hate you?"

Slytherin closed his eyes. "Everybody else does."

"Because none of them know any better!" Look at us; we thought you were evil, but we changed our minds once we realised the truth, didn't we? Everyone else just doesn't know any differently yet."

Slytherin blinked at him. "Yet?"

Harry smiled. "You didn't think we'd let them keep believing a lie, did you?"

Hermione nodded. "I've already got some drafts of letters I want to send. It's appalling how such inaccuracies could have continued for so long."

Slytherin stared at them, his pale face showing pure confusion. "But why?"

"Same reason you've been helping us," said Harry. "It's the right thing to do."

"...I do not understand."

Harry frowned at the pain in his voice, but Gryffindor chose that moment to step forward. "How many times are we going to have to say this?" he asked gently. "You do not have to do everything yourself any more."

"You have not had to for a long time," said Hufflepuff. She moved forwards to take his hand in hers. "Is that truly so difficult to accept?"

"You know my reasons," Slytherin whispered.

"And things are different now," Gryffindor insisted.

Harry, by this point, was completely lost, and Ron and Hermione looked equally bemused. He heard Gryffindor continue, but his words were too quiet to catch. Whatever it was it worked; Slytherin's shoulders relaxed and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face as he murmured a response. Gryffindor shook his head fondly, and Slytherin turned back to Harry. Harry noted absently that he still held Hufflepuff's hand, but his attention was diverted when Slytherin took a deep breath.

"Forgive me, Harry; I fear I startled you somewhat."

Harry shook his head. "There's nothing to forgive," he said firmly. "I probably would have reacted the same way." Just without the thunder and lightning.

Slytherin frowned. "You are sure? This is a serious matter."

"I know, but you didn't do anything, so it's fine."

"Which is what I have been trying to tell you," said Gryffindor pointedly.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "You did not have quite the same emphasis."

Harry felt his face flame red. "Er, sorry about that. The yelling and everything."

"Quite understandable under the circumstances." He paused and then added quietly, "And your words were appreciated."

"I meant them," Harry insisted.

"I can see that." He rubbed wearily at his eyes. "I just do not see how such a thing could occur."

"What do you mean?"

Slytherin sighed. "You say he calls himself my heir?" Harry nodded. "I am afraid there is a slight flaw in that theory."

Gryffindor snorted. "Slight?"

"Notable."

"It does make things rather more problematic," Hufflepuff agreed.

Harry stared between them. "What are you talking about? What flaw?"

Slytherin gave a thin smile. "I do not have any heirs."

"...Huh?"

"I have never married and have no children of my own," Slytherin explained.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. Her cheeks tinged red when Slytherin grimaced.

"Very sure."

"But You-Know-Who said his mother was your descendent," said Ron. "How does that work?"

Slytherin shook his head. "I do not know."

"Maybe it's a child you will have in the future," Hermione suggested.

Slytherin's expression darkened. "That is not likely." Harry could have sworn that his gaze flickered to Hufflepuff, but a thought suddenly struck him.

"Wait, didn't you say you have a sister?"

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "I do, and she does have a number of children. It is possible that he is a descendent of that line."

Ron frowned. "But then he wouldn't technically be your heir, would he? Not unless he was actually acknowledged as such by the head of the family."

Hermione stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

Ron's ears went pink under the scrutiny, but he answered readily enough. "The passing of inheritances and titles are complicated matters in our world. I don't understand it all, I don't have to being the sixth son and all, but I know that there are very strict rules that have to be met, especially when the relationship is so distant."

"So Voldemort isn't really the heir of Slytherin," said Harry slowly.

"We cannot know for sure with the information we have," said Slytherin. "And it does not change the fact that he is of my blood.

"Which, as we have already ascertained, means nothing," Gryffindor snapped. "I expect there are a number of people who can claim such a relationship." He shot a quick glance in Harry's direction, but continued without pausing, "You cannot continue to blame yourself for something one of your descendants will do in a thousand years."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed with thought, but he did not reply. Hufflepuff touched his arm.

"We hate what Voldemort has done," she said quietly. "But we do not hate you. We never could."

"You maybe-"

"We don't either," said Harry firmly.

"Certainly not," Hermione agreed, and even Ron nodded. Slytherin looked between them, the wariness still present. Gryffindor shook his head.

"How many more times are we going to have to say it?"

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "So sorry for putting you at an inconvenience." He was still very pale, but a slight smile travelled across his face as he looked at them. Harry allowed himself to relax a little, but his relief was almost immediately replaced by concern again as Slytherin's face twisted into a grimace.

"Professor?"

Slytherin shook his head. "I am fine."

"Of course you are," Gryffindor muttered. "But forgive me for trusting Helga's judgement over yours."

"I believe a brief trip to the infirmary is in order," she agreed. Her tone was light, but there was no denying the concern in her eyes. Slytherin frowned at them, but the protests Harry was expecting died when they glared at him.

"Very well."

Huffepuff's shoulders slumped. "Thank you. Do you not realise how much you just did?"

"It was not intentional."

"It never is, but that does not mean it is all right."

Slytherin sighed and glanced at Harry. "I am afraid we must postpone our lesson," he said. "Forgive me; this appears to be becoming a habit."

"It's fine," said Harry quickly. "It's not your fault."

Slytherin gave him a small, but genuine smile. "Thank you." He nodded to Gryffindor and then Disapparated. Gryffindor turned to Hufflepuff, who sighed.

"I will keep an eye on him," she promised, before she too disappeared.

For a long moment, Gryffindor stood staring after them. Then he shook his head, muttered something under his breath and turned to Harry. "That was quite a display."

Harry's face flushed again. "Sorry."

"Do not be. If anything, I should be thanking you." His gaze travelled round, assessing the damage from the storm. "He needed to hear that."

Harry shuffled his feet. "It was just the truth."

"A truth I doubt he would have accepted from anyone else," said Gryffindor gently. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry cast desperately around for a change of subject. "Thanks for stopping me from running out earlier. That wouldn't have done much good." He frowned as he thought back. "How did you even know what was going on?"

Gryffindor gave a wry smile. "The storm clouds were a slight hint."

"But you didn't see them," Ron exclaimed. Gryffindor's eyes narrowed, but Ron didn't stop. "You were talking to me, and then you just went still and said there was trouble. But how could you have known without looking?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. What else were the Founders keeping from them? Gryffindor scowled, but Harry got the feeling that he was more annoyed with himself than them.

"Professor?" said Hermione. "What's going on?"

Harry didn't think he would reply, but after a long pause, he sighed. "I suppose it is a little late for secrets." He froze them in place with a piercing stare. "But each of you must swear not to divulge this information without our express permission."

Harry hesitated, but he knew that Gryffindor would never do anything to endanger Hogwarts or its students. "I promise." Ron and Hermione followed suit, and Gryffindor nodded.

"Thank you." He stroked his beard thoughtfully, then looked back at them. "How much do you know about how Hogwarts was made?"

Harry blinked. "Er, nothing really. I know there are lots of enchantments and stuff-"

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "Enchantments and stuff? Yes, I suppose you could classify five years of highly advanced spellwork as 'enchantments and stuff."

"And this is why you should read 'Hogwarts: A History,'" Hermione hissed. Harry ducked his head in mortification and saw Ron grimace. Gryffindor shook his head.

"It is of no matter, but a little more research would certainly not go amiss." Harry nodded ruefully.

"So how did you do it?" asked Ron. He looked very anxious to make up for his slip.

Gryffindor stared back at the castle. "We first came here many years ago. Some time later, when we eventually decided to found a school, we found this location to be perfect; it is far from any Muggle settlements, and though the castle was a ruin, we could fix that easily enough with magic. Over the next few years, we practically rebuilt it. We poured our magic into every part of it, the foundations, the wards, the interior spells... I think it would be safe to say that this castle has more magic running through it than any other in the world."

"I've read about it," Hermione breathed. "The sheer amount of power, the complexity of the spellwork... It is incredible."

Gryffindor smiled. "I did say that it took us years." His tone turned serious again as he continued. "As time went by, we began to feel something changing. It began to feel like Hogwarts was more than just a building; sometimes it seemed like the castle itself wanted us to continue with what we were doing. Of course we thought nothing of it; after all our work, we thought it only natural that we would want to see it completed. But the more magic we used, the stronger our feelings became." His voice trailed off as he remembered.

"What happened?" Harry asked. They had all been completely drawn into the story. Gryffindor blinked and smiled.

"It was five years after we first began. The last room had been finished, the last wards written, and we were celebrating our achievement." His eyes filled with wonder. "And then we heard her speak."

Harry's mouth fell open. "What?"

"The castle?" Hermione exclaimed. "But how is that possible?"

Gryffindor laughed. "That was our reaction. Rowena theorised that we poured so much of ourselves into her that she could not help but come to life." His smile turned rueful. "Though we have absolutely no idea how."

Ron stared at him. "So it actually speaks to you? With words?"

"She," Gryffindor corrected. "The personality is female. And yes, she does."

Harry was still struggling to get his head around the idea. "That's-but-how many people even know about this?"

"The four of us," said Gryffindor quietly. "She did not want the attention. The only other person who knows is Helena, and that was an accident." He fixed them with a sharp look. "You understand why you must keep this a secret? If people should learn that Hogwarts is sentient-"

"We won't tell anyone," said Harry quickly. Really, who would believe them? "So it-she told you about Professor Slytherin?"

Gryffindor nodded. "She watches over all of us, indeed everyone within her walls, and she knows what Salazar can do. She also saw your concern, and thought it best to alert me." He glanced at Ron. "I fear I must have startled you, but there was little time for explanations."

"It was fine," said Ron quickly. "Apparating was a bit weird, but that was it."

"I can imagine. I assume then from your reactions that Hogwart's sentience is not common knowledge in the future?"

"There have been rumours," said Hermione, "but no one ever believed them." She tilted her head to one side. "Could it be linked to how the information about Apparating within Hogwarts was lost?"

"It is possible. You can only Apparate here with Hogwarts' permission." He sighed. "But I do not think we will ever learn exactly what happened to that knowledge."

Harry shook his head. It seemed the more they learned, the more they realised how much had been lost. There was nothing he could do about it though, so he returned to the source of the problem.

"Is Professor Slytherin going to be all right?"

"He will be fine," Gryffindor assured him. "Provided he actually listens to Helga and gets some rest instead of disappearing."

Ron grinned. "Sounds like you Harry."

"I am not that bad. I just hate hospitals," he added under his breath. Ron's smirk widened, but Gryffindor's eyes narrowed.

"Do you frequent them often?"

Harry thought back over the years. "Not that often." Ron hastily turned a snort into a cough when Hermione glared at him. Gryffindor just sighed.

"I see." To Harry's surprise, and relief, he chose not to press the matter. "Well, there is little point in returning to Occlumency now."

Harry grimaced. There was absolutely no chance he would be able to concentrate now, and since Slytherin and Hufflepuff were both occupied anyway... "So, what shall we do?"

Gryffindor stroked his beard thoughtfully. "We could work on your duelling," he suggested. "It would be a shame to waste the good weather, and you could use the practice."

Harry grinned. That sounded like the perfect way to relieve some of the tension that had built up over the past couple of hours.

"Can you show us those counter-curses you were talking about?" asked Ron hopefully.

Gryffindor chuckled. "Very well. We shall begin with the jinxes you learned yesterday, and move onto the curses from there. If we have time, we shall try some sparring."

Harry rather suspected he was trying to keep them from dwelling too much on Slytherin's actions, and he was grateful for it. The incident had worried him far more than he had expected. Blasting targets to pieces would be an excellent way to take his mind off of it.

They had only been practicing for a few minutes though when they were interrupted by the arrival of Professor Ravenclaw. She came hurrying out of the castle, and Gryffindor's attention was immediately caught by the alarm on her face.

"Rowena, are you all right?"

"I think I should be the one asking that? What set him off this time?"

Gryffindor grimaced. "He received some rather upsetting news, but I think Harry should be the one to explain."

Harry sighed, but began to relate the events of the afternoon. Ravenclaw listened without interrupting until he reached the part about Riddle being Slytherin's heir.

"But Salazar does not have any children."

"We think he may be of Selene's line," said Gryffindor.

"Very possibly, and the appearance of the Parselmouth trait does support it." She shook her head. "My apologies, Harry. Please continue."

"There isn't much left. I told him it was true, and then this happened."

Ravenclaw sighed as she took in the storm damage. "Oh dear."

"That about sums it up," said Gryffindor. "He has not had an episode this bad in years."

Harry flinched as guilt welled up again. Ravenclaw's eyes narrowed.

"Enough of that," she snapped. "You are not to blame for this."

"But-"

"No. We do not let Salazar get away with blaming himself without cause, we are not about to let you do so either."

"Don't argue, Harry," Ron advised. "Or you'll set Hermione off too."

A reluctant smile spread across Harry's face as Hermione glared daggers at Ron. "I'll try."

"Good." She considered him for a moment. "The two of you really are quite similar."

Harry considered it. "I guess." The thought didn't actually bother him.

"I know what you mean," Gryffindor murmured. He shook his head and turned to Ravenclaw. "Were you able to find anything?"

Hermione immediately broke off her 'discussion' with Ron to listen. Harry was no less tense; this could be the moment they found out whether they could ever get home. Even Ron stopped glaring at Hermione and gave Ravenclaw his full attention. The witch smiled.

"I did." She held up a hand to halt the exclamations. "I still need to do more research, and there are several aspects that are not quite clear, but if we can complete the calculations, we may indeed be able to send you back to your own time."

Hermione exploded with questions, but Harry was too dazed to listen. They could go home. They could actually go home. He forced himself to stay calm; Ravenclaw still did not know for sure, and it would take a lot of work, but the prospect of seeing Sirius and Ginny and everyone else was too much, and he could not prevent a broad smile from spreading across his face.

"I never doubted it," said Gryffindor. His eyes sparkled as he looked Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw smiled back. "It is still not certain," she warned. "And I will need your help."

"You will have it," Gryffindor promised. "And that of the others as well." He turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "You will see your own time again."

"Thank you," said Harry fervently. "For all of this."

Ravenclaw waved the thanks away. "It is the least we could do. Oh, and that reminds me Harry, I may have found a way to help your eyes."

Harry's mouth fell open. "What?"

"There was a procedure among my father's old scrolls. I did not have time to study it in detail, but a cursory look showed some potential. I would like Helga to take a look at it first though; Healing magic is not my speciality."

"One of the few things that isn't," said Gryffindor with a grin. "But that is excellent news. I expect Salazar will want to study it as well." He abruptly realised that Harry had yet to reply, and glanced at him. "Harry?"

Harry pulled himself from his daze with an effort. "You'll really be able to improve my eyes?"

"Possibly. As I said, I am not a Healer, and it may have fallen out of use for good reason, but it is worth a try."

Harry nodded. "Thanks." To be able to see more than a blur would be incredible.

"You are quite welcome."

Gryffindor opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted when a soft pop announced Hufflepuff's arrival. One look at the expression on her face was enough to end the levity.

"Godric, you have to come quickly. Something is very wrong."


"What did you think you were doing? You could have killed yourself."

Salazar bit back a sharp retort. He knew that it was just Helga's concern talking, but he had never liked being looked after, and that fact that her fear for him had left him feeling strangely guilty was not helping his mood. She just wanted to help, but Salazar knew this was something he would have to work through himself. For the moment though, there was nothing he could do about it. His magical reserves were lower than they had been in years; the only reason he was still conscious was the array of potions Helga had forced on him the moment they arrived. Even so, his head was throbbing painfully, and the less said about his leg the better. Salazar closed his eyes and forced himself to answer calmly.

"It was not intentional. And I would not let it out of control."

Helga shook her head. "I know, but it went on for so long-"

"I knew what I was doing," Salazar growled. "And can you honestly blame me?"

Helga paused. "No. but that does not mean I do not worry."

Salazar sighed and sat back. "I am sorry."

She took his hand in hers. "It is all right." She frowned, evidently sensing the pain he was trying to hide. "You should rest."

Salazar grimaced. How was he supposed to rest knowing that his descendent would become one of the greatest Dark lords in history? Who would go on to murder countless innocents, including Harry's parents? Helga's frown deepened.

"He does not blame you," she said sharply. "He told you so himself."

"I know." That had been unexpected, but very welcome.

"Then you cannot blame yourself. His actions are not yours."

"They could have been."

"You turned from that path a long time ago. It is not your fault if he chose not to do the same."

Salazar closed his eyes. "He thinks he is following in my footsteps."

"And you know that he is not," Helga countered. "So do we, and so do the children. And I expect they will not hesitate to share that information when they return."

"If anyone will listen to them," Salazar muttered.

Helga raised an eyebrow. "I do not think they will have a choice. Our guests are somewhat strong-willed."

Harry's furious face flashed through Salazar's mind. "I have noticed something of the sort."

"I thought you might."

Salazar smiled, but it did not last long. "But they are going to have quite enough problems of their own without shouldering mine too."

Helga sighed, her good-humour also fading at the reminder. "They are too young to be dealing with such things."

Salazar couldn't agree more. He and Godric had had to, but he would not wish that childhood on anyone. And Riddle seemed just as bad as the people they had encountered. The thought of a child demanding the murder of Muggle-borns was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

The thought of that memory reminded him of something that had been puzzling him since he saw it. Salazar had seen a great many strange things in his life, and he knew that magic could easily accomplish the impossible. He had heard of items that could store the memories of their owners. But he had never heard of any memory that could think and act independently, let alone actually possess anyone. He was also very sure that Issa, even if she was insane, would never obey a mere shade. Salazar did not know what was going on, but he was very sure that no memory could act like that. Maybe one of the forbidden rituals, or soul magic of some sort...

Soul magic. Riddle was fascinated by Dark magic. But surely he would not go that far. Magic that Dark would destroy all hope for him. And yet, Salazar realised with dawning horror, that it all made perfect sense. The autonomy of the young Riddle, the possession, the fact that Harry had destroyed it with a Basilisk fang... What had his descendent done?

"He's insane," he whispered. "Completely insane."

Helga paused to stare at him. "I think we have already established that." Her smile faded as she looked at him. "Salazar, what is it?"

Salazar felt too sick at heart to answer. One of his blood had done this... He had only encountered that particular branch of magic once before, and even then it had filled him with revulsion. The experience was one that he had never been able to forget, as much as he had wished to. He could only be grateful that he had never encountered it again.

Except he had felt it. And recently. Very recently.

Several things fell into place. Why the Dark magic in Harry's scar had felt so familiar. How the ability to speak Parseltongue had been transferred, even though that should have been impossible. What Dumbledore had really meant when he said that Riddle put a bit of himself into Harry.

It was madness. It was Dark, and destructive, and he wanted to think it impossible. But it fitted too perfectly for that.

"No."

"Salazar? What is the matter?"

Salazar barely heard her. The pain faded as his mind processed his realisation. He had to know if this was possible. He grabbed his staff and pushed himself to his feet.

"Salazar, what do you think you're doing? You're not well enough to be moving!"

Maybe, but that didn't matter. "I need to see something."

"Now? You can barely stand."

"Helga-"

"Sit down! Whatever it is, it can wait."

Salazar looked up to meet her worried gaze. "No. It cannot." He hated to do this, but there was no time for arguing. He just had time to see Helga's eyes widen, before he Disapparated.

Salazar staggered as he reappeared in his chambers. His head and leg did not approve of this course of action; he had to close his eyes for several seconds to quell the nausea before he could try to take a step. He reflected grimly that Helga may have had a point, but he could not sit still. Not until he knew for sure. He forced the discomfort aside. If he was right... No, he refused to think of that. Not yet.

"Salazar."

He heard the concern in Zith's voice, but he did not have time to stop. "I am fine." He ignored her demands for the truth and headed to his private chamber.

Salazar moved past the bed and pulled aside a curtain. Behind it was a locked door. He placed his hand against it.

"Let what is hidden, remain hidden." The hisses dropped easily from his tongue, and the wards responded, both to the Parseltongue and to his magic. The latch clicked and he pushed it open.

The room inside was plain and unfurnished, but for a desk and single chair, even though the bookcases on the walls were packed full. But these were not books one would sit and read for pleasure. These were books of Dark magic, of secret spells and hidden rituals. Salazar had searched for them and collected them, and brought them here for safe-keeping, well away from any who would try to use them. No others could enter without him, not even his closest friends. These books were too dangerous for that. At this moment though, they were just what he needed.

As always, the ripple of Dark magic made him flinch as it whispered promises, but he ignored it, heading directly for the scrolls written hundreds of years ago by Herpo the Foul. He pushed aside those dealing with the creation of a Basilisk and turned instead to those dealing with soul rituals.

There was a sudden pounding on the outer door.

"Salazar, let me in."

Helga. Salazar ignored her, his eyes racing easily over the Ancient Greek. Containers, Vessels...

"Salazar, please just tell me what's wrong."

Not yet. Not until he was certain. There was silence, and he knew she had gone to get Godric, but he kept reading. He unrolled the scroll further and finally found what he was looking for.

...can even use a living being as a vessel, though this is not recommended for obvious reasons...

Salazar sank into the chair. It was possible. If it was true...

"Damn you, Riddle."

There was no turning back from this. His descendent was beyond all hope, and the responsibility of dealing with him had fallen to a fifteen year old. Salazar let the scroll fall to the table and rested his head in his hands. Harry had been through too much already, and now this... What was wrong with their world?

How long he sat there, Salazar did not know, but he was eventually startled from his thoughts by a furious hammering at the door.

"Salazar, I know you're in there. If you don't open this door in the next five seconds, I will blast it off its hinges."

Knowing Godric, he would too. Salazar released the wards with a thought but remained where he was, too sick in soul and body to move. He heard Godric's light tread approach, and then a shadow fell across him.

"There you are! Do you know how worried Helga is?"

Salazar felt a twinge of guilt. He had been too concerned with the search to think about that. He heard Godric move closer, and then a sharp intake of breath.

"You look terrible."

Salazar blinked up at him, too weary to even feel annoyed. "I know."

Godric was staring round at the books with undisguised hatred. "And what are you doing in here, of all places?"

Salazar nodded to the scroll in front of him. "I believe I have ascertained the source of the Dark magic in Harry's scar."

"Really? That is excellent news, well done." His smile died at the look on Salazar's face. "Salazar, what is wrong?"

Salazar just sighed. "Read it."

Godric picked it up, shook his head, and muttered a quick translation spell. His eyes widened at the heading. "Salazar-"

"I know."

Godric swallowed and continued to read. His face grew steadily paler as he did so, and Salazar could not blame him. This use of magic should never have been discovered. By the time he finished, Godric was ashen.

"Is this true?"

"It all fits," said Salazar bitterly. "I knew it felt familiar, but it was not until I realised he was using one to control Issa that I remembered..." His voice trailed off and he shivered.

Godric set the scroll back on the table and leaned against the wall. "What are we going to do?"

Salazar's eyes hardened. "I will find a way to remove it. I am not letting that... thing remain in him." He grimaced. "Though how to do that without killing him, I do not know."

"You will find a way," Godric said firmly. "I am sure of it. There must be something in here that could be of use."

"I hope so," Salazar murmured. He massaged his aching temples. "But first, we need to talk to Harry. I have to be sure."

Godric hesitated. "Would it be better not to tell him? If he knew that this was in him-"

"I am not lying to him, Godric," Salazar snapped. "Too many people have done so already."

Godric nodded, his frown lightening at the answer. "I agree. He is the one who is affected; it is better that he knows exactly what is going on."

Salazar nodded, but his attention was drawn back to the scroll. He had solved the mystery, but he could take no pleasure in the accomplishment. Not when the answer was this horrific. Godric laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You will find a way to rid him of it," he said quietly. "I have every faith in you."

"Let us hope that it is not misplaced," Salazar sighed as he began to push himself upright. The world abruptly spun abruptly before him; he had completely forgotten about his current weakness. Godric's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"You should not be out of bed."

"I had to check, and I was never technically in bed to start with." Though not for lack of trying on Helga's part. As soon as he was reasonably steady, he moved towards the door. "Where are they?"

Godric shook his head, but had known him too long to try to stop him. "Rowena and Helga took them to our chamber."

"Rowena's back? Good; I do not want to have to explain this more than once."

Godric sighed. "Will you at least take another potion first?"

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "I thought you all decided I shouldn't take so many."

"Just drink the potion before you fall. We'll call it a special occasion."

Salazar wasn't stupid enough to argue, and had no real desire to. He really was beginning to feel dizzy. He downed the potion and let out a sigh as the burning faded to a dull ache. "Thank you. Can we go now?"

He saw Godric roll his eyes before Disapparating. Smirking, Salazar did the same.

The smirk lasted less than three seconds as they entered the room. The five witches and wizards looked up at their arrival, and the concern in Harry's green eyes was almost too much to bear.

"Professor! Are you all right?"

He really must look awful, if the looks they were giving him were any indication. Salazar forced a smile. "I shall be fine." Ignoring Godric's snort, he turned to Helga. "Forgive me. I did not mean to worry you, but there was something I had to do."

Helga did not speak, but crossed he room and laid her hand on his forehead. Salazar twitched, but did not back away. He owed her this much at least. She caught and held his gaze.

"You scared me," she said quietly. "You are not well enough to be moving like that."

"I know, and I am sorry, but this was too important."

Rowena's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly could be so important?"

Salazar sighed and turned to Harry. "I think I may have identified the Dark magic in your scar."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Really? That's brilliant." His smile faltered. "Isn't it?"

Salazar grimaced. How was he supposed to explain this?

"Salazar, what is it?" asked Helga.

Harry took a deep breath. "It's something bad, isn't it?" he asked softly.

Salazar looked at him, and the resignation in his face brought him back to himself. "There is one more test I need to do to be sure."

Harry didn't even hesitate. "Do it."

Salazar moved forwards to stand in front of him. Harry was on his feet, and although he met Salazar's gaze steadily, there was no hiding the fear in his eyes. Salazar sighed and began to chant.

He heard Helga gasp; she knew nothing of this gasp of magic, but she knew enough Arabic to be able to get the gist of the spell. No doubt Rowena would have a similar understanding. He finished he spell, and hoped with all his heart that he was wrong. But the vivid red glow proved otherwise. Salazar closed his eyes, but he could not change the facts. He was right.

"Professor?" Salazar had to force himself to meet Harry's gaze. The boy was pale as a ghost. "What is it?"

"That spell," Rowena breathed. "Salazar, what did you do?"

Salazar sighed, suddenly feeling much older than his years. "It was a spell used to detect the effects of soul rituals."

"Soul rituals," Hermione exclaimed. "But those are among the Darkest of magics."

"If not the Darkest," Ron agreed.

Harry's ashen face went even paler. "What the hell is going on?"

"Enough," said Godric. His voice was not loud, but the room fell silent immediately. Godric looked at him, but Salazar suddenly found himself at a loss for words. How could he give news like this?

"Salazar," said Helga. "What is it? What did you find?" She took his hand, and Salazar drew strength from the touch. He took a deep breath, forced his pain and dismay back under his control, and looked around the room. His voice carried clearly through the silence.

 

Chapter 9: Brought To Light

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc. The words of the prophecy are taken from 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,' and are the sole property of J.K. Rowling.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Harry had known that something was wrong the moment Slytherin entered. Everyone's reactions to the spell he performed merely confirmed that fact. But the mention of soul rituals threw him, and the resulting exchange left him completely lost. All he knew was that he really did not like the expression on his teacher's face as he looked round at them all.

"Do any of you know what a Horcrux is?"

A what? Harry had never heard the term before. Ron looked as blank as he felt, and even Hermione shook her head. Harry turned expectantly to the Founders, only to find Ravenclaw frowning.

"The term is familiar, but I cannot recall..." She shook her head. "Why can I not remember?"

"Because you asked me to make sure that the book in question never saw the light of day again," said Slytherin quietly. "And then to remove your memory of ever having read it."

Ravenclaw's eyes widened. "What?"

Slytherin sighed. "You felt that the information was too dangerous." He glanced at Hufflepuff. "I do not believe you ever read that one."

"For good reason," said Gryffindor grimly. "I have only a basic understanding of the theory, but that is more than enough."

Ravenclaw's face grew troubled. "I find it difficult to imagine circumstances where I would ever ask to lose knowledge."

Slytherin shuddered. "This is not normal magic. The nightmares you had afterwards were among the worst of your life."

Harry was growing steadily more uneasy. The fact that it was Dark magic was bad enough, but if it was so terrible that Rowena Ravenclaw of all people had chosen to forget it... "What the hell is going on?"

"Harry," Hermione hissed, but Slytherin shook his head.

"It is understandable." He considered for a moment. "This is going to be difficult to explain."

"We have time," said Gryffindor. "If we are going to do this, then we all need to understand what is going on."

That was a very refreshing change from the adults back home, but Harry was too tense to really appreciate the effort. Ron and Hermione both looked startled, but they nodded quickly.

"We want to help."

Slytherin managed a brief smile. "Good." He looked round at them all. "You had better sit down. This is going to take some time."

Harry did as he was told, but he didn't even try to relax. Ron and Hermione, by unspoken agreement, settled on either side of him, and the Founders returned to their original seats, Hufflepuff taking an extra moment to fuss over Slytherin. Slytherin gave her a small smile before turning to Harry.

"You must understand that Horcruxes are some of the Darkest types of magic known to man. Few know of their existence, and even fewer are willing to attempt to make one, for the consequences of failure are too horrific to contemplate."

Harry swallowed. "And if it works?"

Slytherin looked away. "Better that it had not." He took a deep breath. "A Horcrux is an object or being in which someone has stored a part of their soul."

Hufflepuff's face drained of colour. "That's – that's –"

"An abomination," Ravenclaw gasped.

Harry felt something cold settle in the pit of his stomach. "Why would anyone do that?"

Slytherin gave a humourless smile. "Because if you have a Horcrux, you cannot truly die. Your body may be destroyed, but as long as the Horcrux survives, you will too."

"So that's how he survived the Killing Curse," Hermione breathed. "It should have killed him, but if he had a Horcrux..."

"Does that mean we have to destroy the Horcrux before we can kill him?" Ron exclaimed.

"That is correct."

"But how are we supposed to find it? It could be anything, couldn't it?"

Gryffindor nodded grimly. "And it is likely that it will be protected."

"This isn't going to be possible," Harry whispered. "How are we supposed to find and get to, and then destroy something like that?"

"You will not be alone," Hufflepuff reminded him. "You will have Dumbledore, and the rest of your allies."

Hermione brightened. "Of course! Dumbledore knows Voldemort better than anyone. He's almost certain to have an idea of where to start."

"And I bet he knows how to destroy them too," said Ron.

Harry felt a surge of relief. Dumbledore might have made mistakes, but he was still the most powerful wizard in the world. He would know what to do.

"And once we destroy it, Voldemort's just a normal man right? He can be killed like anyone else?"

Three of the Founders nodded, and Ravenclaw took a deep breath. "Salazar, can you please explain to us how you came to this conclusion."

Slytherin paused for a moment, but eventually he nodded to Harry. "It was your memory that brought it to mind."

"What?"

"You said that Riddle stored a memory of himself in the diary, but no memory could think and act as that thing did. A memory could not possess someone and drain their life force, but a soul fragment... That is another matter entirely."

Harry felt a surge of nausea. "That was a piece of Voldemort's soul?"

"I believe so."

"I guess that explains why flushing it down a toilet didn't work," Ron muttered, but despite his words, his face was ashen. No doubt he was imagining afresh what his sister must have gone through. The thought made Harry's stomach twist in sympathy; facing Voldemort was bad enough, but to be possessed by him, and at that age. He shuddered, and forced the thought away.

"The Basilisk fang definitely destroyed it though, right?" he demanded. "It can't come back or anything?"

"No," Slytherin assured him. "Basilisk venom is one of the few substances that can destroy a Horcrux."

Harry slumped back in his seat, but Gryffindor was staring at Slytherin, his face a mask of dismay. "Wait a moment, I thought Riddle opened the Chamber while he was still a student."

Slytherin's eyes were chips of ice. "He did."

The blood drained from Gryffindor's face. "Are you telling me he made a Horcrux before he had even completed his studies here?"

"I am afraid so," said Slytherin, and the loathing in his voice was enough to make Harry stare. Hufflepuff's eyes narrowed, but Ron was frowning.

"What does that matter? I know these things are horrible, but we already knew that You-Know-Who was always pretty twisted."

Gryffindor shook his head. "You do not understand. Creating a Horcrux is not like casting a spell, or brewing a potion." He shuddered, and glanced at Slytherin, whose face was like stone as he met Ron's gaze.

"To create a Horcrux, you must first split your soul. The only way to do that is to murder someone in cold blood, and feel not the slightest remorse about it."

There was absolute silence. Slytherin continued to speak, every word cold as ice.

"The enchantments needed to prepare the container are some of the Darkest in existence, but it is murder, and murder alone, that cleaves the soul. And once the murder is done, the ritual must be completed without a moment's doubt or hesitation. That a boy, still a student, could do so is difficult to imagine."

"I do not suppose there is any chance that he failed," Hufflepuff whispered.

Slytherin shook his head. "He succeeded. There is no doubt of that."

There was a long silence. Harry felt sick to his stomach; he knew that Voldemort was a monster, but he had never imagined he had become one so young. The Riddle he had met in the diary could not have been more than sixteen, practically the same age as Harry, and yet he had already done this. Hufflepuff gave a long sigh.

"Then there is no hope for him."

Slytherin shook his head. "Not after this."

Gryffindor took a deep breath and released it. "At least he is vulnerable now. With his Horcrux destroyed, he can be killed like any other man."

Harry looked up eagerly, but the expression on Slytherin's face stopped any excitement in its tracks. "Professor?"

Hufflepuff frowned and laid a hand on his arm. "What is it? Surely he is mortal now?"

Gryffindor's head suddenly whipped round. "No..."

"It can't be," Hermione gasped at the same time.

Harry stared from one to the other. "What? What's going on?"

Slytherin let out a long sigh. "I believe he may have made more than one."

Harry's mouth fell open. "He... What?"

"Is that even possible?" Ravenclaw gasped.

"I do not know," said Slytherin quietly. "No one has ever attempted to split their soul more than once."

"Because they're not completely insane," Gryffindor growled. "What was he thinking?"

Ron swallowed. "How many did he make?"

Slytherin shook his head. "I am afraid there is no way to tell."

"And we've got to destroy all of them?"

"Yes."

Ron stared at him for a moment, then slumped back into his chair. "Bloody hell."

That summed up Harry's feelings on the matter perfectly. The prospect of fighting the most feared Dark wizard of modern times was daunting enough, but to find and destroy an unknown number of Horcruxes? How could they possibly manage that?

Hufflepuff, however, was frowning. "I do not doubt you, Salazar," she said quietly, "but how can you be so sure that he made more than one?"

"And what does all of this have to do with Harry's scar?" asked Hermione.

Slytherin sighed and rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion was etched in every line of his face as he looked round at Harry. "The two questions are connected." He hesitated and glanced at Gryffindor, who nodded. Harry felt a frission of fear run through him.

"Professor, what is going on?"

For a long moment, Slytherin didn't reply. Then he took a deep breath and looked Harry straight in the eye. "Your scar is not a normal scar, nor is it a remnant of the Killing Curse," he said quietly. "It contains a piece of Voldemort's soul."

Time seemed to stop. Harry stared at Slytherin, heedless of all others in the room. He heard exclamations and protestations, but he ignored them, his mind captured by one irrevocable fact.

"I'm a Horcrux."

The words were barely a whisper, but silence fell immediately. Harry closed his eyes, unable to bear the shocked stares. He carried a piece of Voldemort's soul. A piece of the man who had murdered his parents, and so many others. Bile rose in his throat, and a rushing sound filled his ears.

Then a hand cupped his cheek, and Harry felt a warmth spreading through him, washing away the nausea and lending him strength. His eyes flew open, and he found himself staring into Hufflepuff's concerned blue ones.

"It is all right," she said soothingly. "Breathe, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath and released it. "Thanks." He became aware of hands on his shoulders, and took in Ron and Hermione's worried faces. "I'm all right," he said quietly.

Neither of them looked convinced.

"You looked like you were about to pass out," said Ron flatly.

"Can you blame me?" Harry muttered. He still felt sick, but his dizziness was rapidly receding. There was a tap, and Slytherin came to stand next to Harry.

"I am sorry, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "I did ask."

Hufflepuff sighed and took her hand away. "Will you be all right?"

Harry shrugged, unable to answer truthfully. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances, and the Founders all looked grim. Slytherin sighed.

"If it is any consolation, I do not believe you are a true Horcrux."

Harry looked up, momentarily startled out of his depression. "What?"

"Explain, Salazar," said Ravenclaw.

"Sit down first," said Hufflepuff sharply.

Slytherin grimaced, but did as she asked. Once seated, he looked at Harry. "While it is possible to make a living creature a Horcrux, I do not believe that was Voldemort's intention in this case."

Gryffindor nodded. "There is no sense in making you a Horcrux when he was planning to kill you."

"Precisely."

"Then how did it happen?" Ron demanded.

Slytherin leaned forwards and rested his chin on his fingertips. "I cannot be sure, but I believe that a portion of his soul was torn from the whole when his body was destroyed. This fragment then latched on to the closest living person."

"Me," Harry whispered.

Slytherin inclined his head. "That is the basis of the theory that he made multiple Horcruxes. Only a soul that had already been cleaved multiple times could be torn apart by accident."

That was interesting, but Harry was still a little preoccupied. "But what does this mean? If there's a piece of his soul in me, then even if we destroy all the other Horcruxes, Voldemort still won't die." His chest tightened. "As long as I'm alive, he can't die."

Slytherin's silence was answer enough. Harry continued to talk, feeling like his voice belonged to someone else.

"If we want to kill Voldemort, I have to die too."

He had escaped death as a child, and so many times since. But if it meant an end to all this...

"No."

Harry blinked up. "Ron-"

"No!" His friend's face was flushed with rage and pain. "I won't accept that!"

"There has to be another way," Hermione cried. There were tears in her eyes as she gripped Harry's hand. "We will find another way."

Harry's heart swelled almost to bursting point at their words, but he shook his head. "Voldemort has to die-"

"We are not losing you too!" Hermione insisted. "There has to be a way to kill him without killing you. I'll look in all the libraries, and we'll ask Dumbledore, and the Founders will help." She looked round at them, her expression fierce. "Won't you?"

Gryffindor smiled at her. "Need you ask?" His green eyes locked on Harry's. "Do not give up hope. We will find an alternative."

Ravenclaw nodded. "If we pool our resources then we are bound to find something that will be of use."

Harry stared round at all of them. "But how? You said the only way to destroy a Horcrux was to use Basilisk venom."

"Or Fiendfyre."

"But those would kill me too!"

"True," said Slytherin, "but it may be possible to remove the soul fragment from your body. Once it is isolated, we can trap and destroy it at our leisure."

Harry blinked. "You can do that?"

"It has never been done to my knowledge," Slytherin admitted. "This situation is rather unique."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Great."

Gryffindor frowned at him. "I thought I told you not to give up."

"But he just said-"

"I said that such a thing had never been done before. That does not mean it is impossible." He smiled at their stunned expressions. "And we do have some experience with creating new spells."

Harry was silent. He could not even begin to imagine what a spell of that sort would involve. But these were the Founders of Hogwarts, renowned as the greatest witches and wizards of their time. If anyone could help him, it was them.

"We can do this," said Hufflepuff quietly. "Trust us."

Harry looked round at them all. None of them hesitated to meet his gaze, and he read nothing but confidence and determination in their eyes. He came to Slytherin last. The wizard was pale and haggard, but he too met Harry's gaze without flinching.

"There is always hope," he said. "We will do everything in our power to free you from him."

And Harry believed him. Slowly, he nodded.

"Thank you."

Hufflepuff smiled at him. "It is our pleasure."

Ron let out a whoop and thumped Harry on the back. "See? Told you!"

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't try to suppress the smile spreading across his face. The news had not been pleasant, but he was not alone. He had friends who were willing to do whatever it took to keep him safe. The thought was more than enough to give him hope.

"There is one thing I do not understand."

All eyes turned to Ravenclaw.

"This is a momentous occasion," said Gryffindor with a grin. "What is the matter?"

A frown creased the witch's flawless face. "How did no one realise that there was something unusual about the scar? Surely it was examined, especially if it continued to pain you."

"It is no surprise that it was not recognised for what it is," said Slytherin. "Horcruxes are exceptionally rare. But even a basic spell would reveal the presence of Dark magic."

"Was it ever examined, Harry?" asked Hufflepuff.

Harry frowned. "Not that I know of."

"Dumbledore might have taken you to St. Mungo's before leaving you with the Dursleys," Hermione suggested, but Harry shook his head.

"Hagrid said he took me from the wreckage straight to the Dursleys."

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "You had just survived the Killing Curse!"

Harry shrugged. "He might have done something. I don't know."

Slytherin frowned. "If not, then it was an unforgivable oversight, but leaving that for the moment, why did the healer at Hogwarts not notice anything?"

"That's a good point," said Ron. "Considering how often you end up in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey must have seen something."

Hufflepuff's eyes narrowed at that, but Hermione frowned. "She wouldn't be looking for Dark magic though."

"She would not have to," said Hufflepuff. "Even a basic diagnostic spell would detect that level of Dark magic. Unless Healing has changed a great deal in the intervening years, it is almost impossible that it could have gone unnoticed."

"And she would then be bound to report it to Dumbledore," said Ravenclaw. "So the question that remains is why did he not do anything about it?"

There was silence. Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Dumbledore, the man he respected above all others, had known that something was wrong and done nothing. He hadn't even told him. From the looks on the Founders' faces, their faith in the present headmaster had just taken a heavy blow, but Ron and Hermione looked doubtful.

"Maybe he couldn't," Hermione suggested tentatively. "And you said before that it wasn't doing any harm, so maybe he thought it was better to leave it, rather than risk hurting Harry."

Ron brightened at the thought, but Slytherin shook his head. "I said there was no obvious damage, but all Dark magic is intrinsically harmful. It could be doing any number of things, from suppressing his magic, to influencing his mind or emotions."

"What?"

"I said it could be," said Slytherin quickly. "I do not know, and it is unlikely, but the possibility remains. And at the very least, the fact that it pains him in Voldemort's presence should have been cause enough to investigate further. That he did not do so is inexcusable."

"Indeed," said Hufflepuff grimly. "The welfare of his students should have been his first priority."

"But Dumbledore does care about the students," Hermione protested. "For all we know, he did investigate."

"Then why didn't he tell me?" Harry demanded. "It's my scar, and my life; I think I have the right to know what's going on."

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. Ron stared at the floor. Harry dropped his gaze, suddenly exhausted. The day had brought far too many surprises.

"He should have told me."

Gryffindor looked at them and sighed. "Yes, he should," he said quietly. "But he is not here. He may have investigated, and he may have some purpose in mind. We simply do not know."

Harry gritted his teeth. He didn't care what Dumbledore was planning, that information should not have been kept from him. Slytherin too looked very grim.

"It is something you will have to ask him when you return."

Oh, he would definitely be doing that.

"It doesn't matter now," said Hufflepuff. "Now that we know what is going on, we can take steps to remedy the situation."

Ravenclaw nodded. "I will begin researching immediately."

"In the morning," Gryffindor corrected.

"That goes for you too," said Hufflepuff to Slytherin.

The almost identical rebellious looks on Ravenclaw and Slytherin's faces were enough to break the tension.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Hermione. "I can help with the research."

"Me too," said Ron. Harry stared at him, and he shrugged. "This is important."

"Thanks, mate," said Harry quietly. Hermione seemed too overwhelmed by the prospect to speak.

Ravenclaw smiled at them. "The offer is appreciated, but I think the best thing for you to do would be to concentrate on improving your own skills."

"I agree," said Gryffindor. "We can deal with this soul fragment, but it will be up to you to find and destroy the rest. And of course, we cannot forget the threat posed by the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself."

"But we want to help," Harry protested. He knew that training was important, but he couldn't bear the thought of knowing what he carried and not being able to do anything about it. Hermione looked equally distressed. The Founders shared a long look, then Gryffindor sighed and turned back to them.

"We know, and we understand," he said. "But soul magics are among the Darkest magics in existence. We would rather not expose you to it unless absolutely necessary."

"But we've already been exposed to Dark magic," Harry argued. "A bit more won't make much difference."

Slytherin shook his head. "On the contrary, there is a great difference between being the victim of Dark magic, and actively immersing yourself in them. You can take my word for that. The Dark Arts are dangerous, and intoxicating, and will do far more harm than good." He paused, his expression turning flinty. "I swore long ago that I would never lead a student down that path. I will not break that oath."

Harry glanced at the others, but all of them shook their heads. Slytherin's eyes softened slightly.

"Harry, the Dark Arts are an abomination. Be glad that you do not have to study them." He gave a slight smile. "And if it is any consolation, I am the only one who will be taking advantage of all the resources available to us."

"For good reason," Gryffindor muttered. "I cannot read them without wanting to throw up."

Harry stared at him. "What?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "I meant it when I said they were dangerous."

He did not need to elaborate. Harry looked down at his feet. He didn't like it, but they didn't seem to have much choice in the matter. Hermione's expression turned slightly wistful, but Ron was not quite successful in hiding his relief.

"So, what are we going to do instead?" he asked.

"We will continue with Occlumency and Duelling," said Gryffindor. "And we also have a few other ideas in mind."

Hermione brightened immediately. "What sort of ideas?"

Gryffindor grinned. "How does non-verbal magic sound?"

All Harry's disappointment disappeared in an instant. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," said Ravenclaw. "Now that we are satisfied with your basics, there is no reason why we cannot begin more advanced studies. We shall begin tomorrow."

"We also think it might be beneficial for you to learn some basic healing spells," said Hufflepuff.

"Good idea," said Hermione fervently.

Ron grinned at Harry. "Madam Pomfrey will be glad of the rest."

Harry rolled his eyes, but he had to admit that it would be useful. Considering the amount of trouble they got into, they really should have thought of that earlier.

"Will we be able to learn to heal like you do?" he asked.

Hufflepuff shook her head. "That was not something I learned," she said, "but something I have always been able to do. It is possible that you will have the gift too, but even if you do not, there is a great deal you can learn."

Harry nodded, not really concerned by the details. "Sounds good to me." Already their chances of surviving all this were improving.

Slytherin shot them a speculative look. "Have any of you learned to Apparate yet?"

All three shook their heads.

"They don't teach us until sixth year," Ron explained. "There's no point; you're not allowed to get a license until you're seventeen."

"Why would you need a license?" Hufflepuff asked.

Ron shrugged. "They say it's too dangerous."

Slytherin snorted. "I learned to Apparate when I was eight. Though I did have an extra incentive." He ignored their open-mouthed stares. "In any case, it would be a useful skill for you to know."

"An excellent idea," said Gryffindor. "Especially if you teach them how to incorporate it into combat."

Hermione blinked. "You can do that?"

"Salazar can," said Ravenclaw. "You might say that Apparition is his speciality."

Slytherin gave a slight shrug. "It had to be." He shook his head and looked round at them. "Would you be interested in learning how to do so?"

"Definitely," said Harry with a grin. Hermione nodded furiously, and Ron's expression turned dreamy.

"I can't wait to see Fred and George's faces when they see I learned a year earlier than they did."

Harry's grin widened at the thought, but Hermione shook her head.

"Aren't you forgetting the under-age magic laws? You won't be able to show them."

"The Trace is on our wands," Ron shot back. "Apparating will be fine. I think."

Harry frowned. "What's the Trace?"

"Under-age magic laws?" asked Gryffindor at the same time.

"You're not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts until you're seventeen," said Ron. "Something about not being mature enough to use it responsibly."

"But what if you're attacked and need to defend yourself?" Hufflepuff protested.

"They make an exception in life-threatening situations," Hermione assured her, She ignored Harry's snort. Hufflepuff nodded, but neither she nor the others looked particularly impressed. Ron glanced at Harry.

"The Trace is a tracking charm," he explained. "It detects when magic is used by you, or around you. I think it's attacked to our wands, and it breaks on your seventeenth birthday."

Harry nodded; that explained how the Ministry always seemed to know so quickly. The thought that there were charms on his wand designed specifically to monitor him made him very uncomfortable.

"That sounds like it could be all too easily abused," said Gryffindor grimly. Looking around, Harry saw that none of the Founders looked particularly pleased by this information.

"Probably," Ron admitted. "But there's nothing we can do about it."

Slytherin's eyes gleamed. "Perhaps." He turned to Harry. "May I borrow your wand for a moment?"

Harry hesitated. He would have been reluctant to let even Ron or Hermione handle his wand. But considering Slytherin had already looked around inside his head that day... He handed over his wand. Slytherin waved his own wand over it, his eyes narrowed in concentration. After a moment he grunted.

"There we are." He flicked his wand and passed Harry's back. "Thank you."

Harry took it slightly warily. "What did you do?"

"I dispelled the tracking charm."

"What?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning to go out and perform magic in front of Muggles?"

"Well no, but-"

"Then there is no reason for it. You need to practice constantly if you plan to fight Voldemort, not only while you are at school."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Can you do mine too?"

"But this is illegal," Hermione spluttered.

"How can it be illegal when there's no Ministry here?" Ron demanded. "Besides, it'll stop things like last summer happening."

Hermione hesitated, but that seemed to make up her mind. "We are going to be in so much trouble," she muttered.

"Only if you are not careful," said Gryffindor, as he watched Slytherin remove the charms. "If you practice only with people you trust, and use your magic responsibly, you should not have any problems."

Slytherin nodded and handed the wands back to their respective owners. "In any case, I expect they will be more interested in the fact that you travelled a thousand years into the past than examining your wands."

Harry laughed. "Just a bit." The shock from the Horcrux revelation was beginning to fade now, lost in the excitement of learning new skills. Ron and Hermione both brightened at his amusement, and distinctly smug smiles passed between the Founders.

"It is settled then," said Ravenclaw. "You will have non-verbal magic with myself, Healing with Helga, Duelling with Godric, and Apparition with Salazar."

Gryffindor nodded. "We may discuss others later, but that is enough to be getting on with."

Harry grinned. He couldn't wait to get started.

"Do you think we could learn to become Animagi?" asked Ron eagerly. "Er, if you know how, that is."

"We all do," Godric assured him. "But I do not know if it will be particularly practical."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. The thought of following in his dad's and Sirius' footsteps was one that immensely appealed to him. "We could do it."

"You probably could," said Ravenclaw, "but the process itself is extremely time-consuming, and I doubt you would wish to remain here for such an extended period."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

"How long would it take?" asked Hermione.

"At least six months, probably closer to a year. It is not an easy skill to master, even with Salazar's... modifications." She scowled at the wizard, who smirked.

"But you acknowledge that my modifications do make the process considerably easier."

Gryffindor smiled at the confused looks on the trio's faces. "Traditionally, one would burn certain herbs and meditate to find one's alternative form," he explained. "Salazar found the process too tedious, and developed a potion instead."

"It was very useful," Hufflepuff agreed. Slytherin's smirk widened, and Ravenclaw rolled her eyes.

"It may be more convenient, but that does not mean I have to like it."

"So you're all Animagi?" Harry asked. "What animals do you turn into?"

Gryffindor grinned. "Can you not guess?"

Ron's eyes widened. "Then you really turn into a lion?"

Gryffindor laughed and rose to his feet. "Indeed."

"Godric, there is not enough-" Hufflepuff began, but her words were interrupted as Gryffindor transformed into an enormous golden lion, sending his chair sliding back across the floor.

"-room," she finished wearily.

"Wicked," Ron breathed.

Harry stared at the giant cat. "That is so much cooler than McGonagall's."

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "I've never seen a lion with a ginger mane before." Ron stared at her, and her cheeks tinged pink, but the Founders just laughed.

"Your Animagus form always displays one or two of your physical characteristics," Ravenclaw explained. "Some of my feathers are the colour of my hair, for example."

"And my eyes are blue in both my human and badger forms," said Hufflepuff.

The lion nodded, then Gryffindor stood in his normal body again. "It depends on the witch or wizard," he said, as if he had done nothing more exciting than pick up a book.

"That was so cool!" Ron exclaimed.

"Thank you."

"Are you sure we don't have time to learn?" asked Harry wistfully.

Gryffindor laughed, and turned to right. "I think it is unlikely. Maybe if - Hello?"

Slytherin straightened. "Something wrong?"

Gryffindor stopped and picked something up. "This was under my chair." He held out his hand. There were twin gasps from Ron and Hermione, and Harry felt his heart constrict at the sight of a very familiar glass ball.

"The prophecy."

The Founders all turned to stare at him.

"You know what this is?" asked Ravenclaw.

Harry nodded, not once taking his eyes from the sphere. "It's what the Death Eaters wanted. I thought it was smashed when we came here."

"Apparently not," said Ravenclaw. "But what is it?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "The Death Eaters said it was a prophecy, and..."

"Yes?" said Slytherin. His silver gaze was locked on Harry.

Harry took a deep breath. "They said it was the reason why Voldemort wants to kill me so badly."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "And you had never heard of it before?"

"No."

The Founders exchanged very expressive looks. Gryffindor muttered something distinctly uncomplimentary under his breath, earning himself a half-hearted glare from Hufflepuff. Ron and Hermione were watching Harry carefully, their eyes occasionally darting to the ball.

"Do – do you think it's a real prophecy?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "Voldemort seems to think so."

Gryffindor's eyes glinted. "Then why don't we find out?"

"How?" asked Ron. "None of us know what to do with it."

"We will work it out." He waved his wand over the ball. Ravenclaw watched for a moment, then came to join him, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Fascinating," she breathed. "A most ingenious way of storing information."

Harry bit back his impatience with an effort, even as Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchanged amused smiles. "Well?"

Gryffindor tilted his head to one side. "It looks like breaking it would release the enchantment."

Ravenclaw rolled her eyes. "Give it to me." She ignored his grin and flicked her wand in a sharp pattern. Harry was just opening to his mouth to ask again when the ball began to glow.

"There we are."

Harry jumped up for a better look, Ron and Hermione right on his heels. Ravenclaw set the ball carefully on the table, and the seven witches and wizards crowded round it. As they watched, the smoke cleared to reveal a very familiar face.

"That's Professor Trelawney," Hermione gasped. "But what-"

"Quiet," Harry hissed.

For Professor Trelawney had begun to speak, in the deep, gravelly voice Harry had head once before.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

The words died away, leaving utter silence in their wake. Harry stood staring at the ball, but he did not see the glow fade, or Trelawney's face dissipate back into smoke. The words he had heard rang in his ears, and he could think of nothing else.

The silence was broken by Gryffindor's surprisingly expressive grunt.

"I hate prophecies."

"You are not the only one," Hufflepuff murmured.

Ravenclaw's face clearly betrayed her disappointment. "If that is the standard of Seers in the future, I am very glad I was not born then."

Slytherin nodded. "It was rather ambiguous."

Ron stared at them. "What are you talking about? It's obvious, isn't it?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Is it? Do explain."

"Well, it means Harry's got to defeat You-Know-Who."

"Explain," said Gryffindor quietly.

Ron blinked, clearly taken aback. "Well, he's got the scar. That marks him as You-Know-Who's equal, right?"

"And Harry's birthday is at the end of July, the seventh month," said Hermione slowly. "But this last bit..."

"Either must die at the hand of the other," said Harry quietly. Slytherin's eyes narrowed, but Harry barely saw him. "I think it's pretty clear what that means too."

"Harry," Slytherin began, but Harry interrupted.

"One of us has got to kill the other. Either I kill him or he kills me."

Gryffindor gripped his shoulder. "Listen to me, Harry; that is not the case."

"How can it not be?" Harry demanded. "Everything in that bloody thing says I'm the one who's got to kill him."

"Not necessarily," Gryffindor insisted. "Harry, you must understand that prophecies, by their very nature, are ambiguous. Most can be interpreted in any number of ways, and this is no exception. It is possible that this particular prophecy refers to neither you, nor Voldemort."

"What? How?"

"Well for a start, does it ever mention Voldemort by name?"

"It says 'the Dark Lord.' That's what all the Death Eaters call him."

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "Of course they do, but do you really think he is the first person to style himself so? I myself have met no less than four so-called Dark Lords. Five, if you include Salazar."

"I was never a Dark Lord," Salazar protested mildly. "But the point stands. The Dark Lord of this prophecy may not even have been born when it was made."

"Is that possible?" Hermione asked.

Ravenclaw nodded. "There are many prophecies that have only come to fruition centuries, or even millennia after their creation. The fact that Voldemort is the only Dark Lord at present does not mean he will be the last one."

"He almost certainly will not be," said Gryffindor grimly. "So you can see that the first line alone raises doubts."

Harry stared at him, his anger momentarily abating. "But what about the rest of it? How many people were born at the end of July?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Probably a great deal. And if we are to be specific, it does not even detail the calendar by which the months are to be measured."

"Huh?"

"There are a number of different calendars used for specific fields of magic," Hufflepuff explained, "Each splits the year slightly differently. It is a minor point, but it is possible that it refers to a less common one."

Harry's head was spinning. He had been so sure...

"The previous part is also uncertain," said Gryffindor thoughtfully. "Do you know if your parents did defy Voldemort three times?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered. "I know they fought against him."

Hermione frowned. "But so did several other people. Weren't Neville's parents in the Order too?"

"Yeah." He sat back down and ran a hand through his hair. "None of this makes sense."

"It's a prophecy," Gryffindor muttered. "Of course it does not make sense."

"The part I do not understand," said Ravenclaw, ignoring both of them, "is the line about having a power the Dark Lord knows not."

Harry snorted. "Me neither. Voldemort's one of the most powerful wizards in the world. I'm just... me."

"And you have no idea what this power might be?" Slytherin asked.

Harry thought back. "No, I – wait." He frowned. "At the end of first year, Dumbledore said something about my mother's love protecting me from Voldemort. Maybe that's got something to do with it."

The Founders exchanged a bemused look.

"Love?" Hufflepuff repeated.

Harry looked at them. "You don't think so?"

"We are not sure what to think," said Gryffindor quietly.

Ron blinked. "You're not?"

"There are many things we do not know," Hufflepuff pointed out. "I doubt we will ever know the true extent of what magic is capable of."

Slytherin glanced at Harry and shook his head. "I am afraid we do not have any answers for you. I suggest you consult with Dumbledore when you return."

"I'll do that," said Harry grimly. His anger, temporarily forgotten, was rapidly rising again. "Why didn't he tell me any of this?"

Hermione frowned. "I'm sure he was only trying to do the right thing-"

"I asked him at the end of first year!" Harry shouted. "How was keeping it from me for five years the right thing to do?"

"You were only eleven, mate," Ron pointed out warily. "Would you really have wanted to know about this that young?"

Harry paused. "Maybe not, but Voldemort's been back for a year! I watched him return; I deserve to know that I'm the one everyone thinks will stop him!"

"Enough, Harry," said Gryffindor sharply. "They are not to blame for Dumbledore's mistakes."

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. "Sorry," he muttered.

"We get it, mate," Ron assured him.

Harry managed a small smile. "It just makes me wonder," he said quietly, "if he ever would have told me about it. I'm almost glad Voldemort tried to steal it; at least I learned the truth."

Slytherin looked up at that. "Voldemort tried to steal it?"

"Yeah, he's been after it all year."

Ravenclaw's brow furrowed. "But that does not make sense. He went to considerable lengths to kill you as a child, something he only would have done if he had known that you would be a threat to him. That implies that he had heard the prophecy."

"Er, yeah?"

Ravenclaw sighed. "If he had already heard it, why go to so much effort to try to steal it?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Ron and Hermione shared a bemused look.

"We have no idea," Hermione admitted.

"I suppose it is possible that he only heard part of it," said Hufflepuff slowly. "But his actions in targeting your family seem rather precipitous if that is the case."

Slytherin folded his arms. "Well, we have already established that the man has little to no common sense."

Harry shook his head. While the speculation was interesting, he had other matters in mind. "But it still means that I have to fight him. I don't have any choice in the matter."

Gryffindor leaned back in his chair, his green eyes narrowing. "Do you not?"

"He killed my parents," Harry snapped. "Besides, even if I didn't want to fight, he would never let me live."

Ravenclaw nodded. "When he killed your parents, he set these events in stone."

Harry's hands curled into fists. "Then none of this matters. All these arguments about how the prophecy could mean anything, they're pointless because Voldemort has already decided what it means."

No one spoke. Ron and Hermione looked wary, the Founders uneasy. Harry stared straight ahead as he continued to speak, sick to his stomach as he processed the truth.

"Voldemort is convinced that I'm the only one who can kill him," he said quietly. "He will never stop hunting me. Everyone will always be in danger because of me, and him, and that stupid prophecy." White hot rage flooded him. "I never asked for this! I never wanted this!"

"Harry," Hermione began, but Harry was too incensed to listen.

"And do you know what the worst part is?" He ignored the concerned looks being passed between the Founders. "It's that Dumbledore damn well knew all of this, and didn't tell me a single bloody thing!"

Harry was on his feet now, and shaking so hard he could barely see. He could withstand pain, loneliness, despair, but this betrayal on top of so many others, this was too much to bear. All the people who cared about him, all the people he had trusted, had known about this, had known that he was condemned to murder or be murdered, and not one of them had said a single word.

Already that evening he had been told he might have to die. To be told the same thing again was too much to bear.

If he stayed, he would say something he would regret. So he didn't stay. A few people called out his name, but he ignored them. The door slammed shut behind him.

Harry did not have a destination in mind. He just knew that he had to get away from everyone, and everything. Anger such as he had never felt blazed within him, and it would not be long before it boiled over. He stormed through the thankfully deserted corridors, until he came to a tall door and realised that he was at the Armoury.

He had not planned it, but it was perfect. Harry wrenched open the door, and a feral smile stretched across his face at the sight of the waiting practice dummies and training posts.

"Reducto!"

The nearest post became nothing more than a pile of splinters.

"Stupefy!"

A dummy was blasted back against a wall, and Harry rounded on the rest.

"Confringo! Bombarda! Expulso!"

Every destructive spell he had ever been taught, from first year to Gryffindor's lessons burst from his wand, and with them came the rage. All the anger and pain and desperation surged up, and instead of suppressing it, he used it. Explosions rang though the room as Harry gave vent to his emotions for the first time in his life. A red mist seemed to fill his vision as fury at Dumbledore and Voldemort consumed him. He was rage and destruction, and he cast until his knees buckled, and his wand fell from his hand.

Silence fell slowly. Harry knelt on the floor, sweat obscuring his vision, and his breathing heavy and ragged. Never in his life had he felt so drained. The air was thick with magic from the concentration of his spells. Harry closed his eyes. Emotion had fled, now he just felt empty. There was nothing of him left.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't defeat Voldemort, he couldn't even protect his friends. He couldn't be the hero everyone wanted him to be.

And if he wasn't a hero, what was he?

"Feel any better?"
Harry's head whipped round so fast he made himself dizzy.

"Professor." He tried to rise, but the movement was forestalled when Slytherin instead lowered himself down next to him. The Founder's eyes narrowed as he looked around.

"Impressive."

Harry finally looked round himself, and his jaw dropped.

There was not a single piece of equipment that remained in one piece. Most were little more than dust. The walls and floor were pitted with numerous scorch marks, and several of the weapons racks had been knocked over, scattering their contents across the floor.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. He tried to stagger up, only for Slytherin to catch his shoulder and push him back down again.

"Try to stand now, and you will fall over," he said bluntly.

He was probably right, but shame now overshadowed the fatigue. "I'll fix it."

Slytherin shook his head. "Do not be concerned about it. Godric and the others have each caused more damage in the same circumstances." His lips twisted into a grimace. "And my own method of release puts you all to shame in terms of destruction caused."

Harry glanced at him. "Then, you're not angry?"

"Should I be?"

Harry stared at his feet. "I lost control."

Slytherin snorted. "Have you forgotten my own actions earlier? It would be a little hypocritical to blame you now." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Nobody is angry, Harry. Just concerned."

Harry hugged his knees to his chest. "I'm sorry for storming out. I just had to get away."

"We understood. Do not worry yourself about that."

Harry braced himself for the usual platitudes, but to his surprise, Slytherin just sat there, idly gazing round at the wreckage surrounding them. He did not ask stupid questions, he did not try to fill the silence. He just waited. Harry continued to watch him out the corner of his eye, wary of testing his patience, but the Founder did not move.

Harry took a deep breath, and slowly released it. Slytherin would not press him into talking, he was sure of that, and his first inclination was to stay silent. He could manage by himself.

But he had been doing that for nearly sixteen years, and look how well that had turned out. And Slytherin, at least, had never lied to him.

"They should have told me."

Slytherin inclined his head, but did not speak, allowing Harry to say what he had to.

"I get that Dumbledore didn't want to tell me when I was younger; I was having enough problems with all the Boy Who Lived rubbish. But last year I watched him come back, and I watched Cedric die, and he still didn't tell me."

"Ron and Hermione think he was trying to do what was best for you."

"How was lying to me after all that good for me?" He glared at the floor. "And Sirius, and the Weasleys, and everyone in the Order, they all knew too, and not one of them said anything. Why? Didn't they trust me?"

"I highly doubt that was the case," said Slytherin quietly. "It is a heavy burden to lay on anyone's shoulders. That they were reluctant to do so merely shows how much they care about you."

Harry shook his head. "I'd rather have known why Voldemort was so determined to kill me."

"As would I, but can you understand why they acted as they did?"

Harry hesitated, but as much as he hated to admit it, he could see the Founder's point. "I guess," he muttered. "But I still wish I'd known."

Slytherin nodded slowly. "Indeed." After a moment he added softly, "Are you going to be all right?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. Fine. Just got to kill the most powerful Dark wizard in the world, and get a piece of said Dark wizard's soul out of my head without dying. No problem." Slytherin raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. "Sorry."

Slytherin inclined his head. "Understandable. You do realise that worrying yourself half to death is not going to help matters."

"How can I not worry?" Harry demanded. "The only reason I'm even alive is pure luck; how am I supposed to actually kill him?" He stared at the floor, suddenly unable to look his teacher in the eye. "It's impossible. The only things I'm any good at are Quidditch and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You did not survive multiple encounters with him simply by luck," said Slytherin sharply. "You are far more capable than you are willing to admit."

"But Voldemort was the most talented student ever to attend Hogwarts," Harry shot back. "And he's spent decades studying magic all over the world. He's killed countless Aurors, and members of the Order; how the hell am I supposed to survive?" He closed his eyes. "I don't know what to do."

A hand rested on his shoulder. "There is always hope, Harry."

Harry snorted softly. "I don't see it."

"You are not looking." There was a sigh. "You do not have to do all of this alone."

"But the prophecy-"

"Said you were to kill Voldemort. It never said you had to do it without help."

Startled, Harry looked up. Silver eyes met his as Slytherin continued to speak.

"You have Dumbledore, with all his knowledge and influence. You have your fellow students, who trust you, and the teachers of Hogwarts, who will do everything they can to protect you from harm. You have the rest of your Order, all of whom care about you. And you have Ron and Hermione. I pity whoever tries to harm you in their presence."

Harry almost smiled at the thought, but his mood soon darkened. "Voldemort knows how important they are. He'll try to use them against me."

"Then you use his weaknesses against him. You know his secrets, you know how to kill him. And, more importantly, he does not know that you know. He will think himself safe, and that will give you the chance to destroy him."

Harry nodded but, despite Slytherin's words, he could not quite bring himself to believe it. The sheer scale of the task he had been given crushed any hope that dared to grow. Slytherin's eyes glinted.

"And of course, we cannot forget your key advantage."

Harry looked up, his face creasing into a frown. "What are you talking about?"

Slytherin's smirk was almost vicious. "Us."

Harry's mouth fell open as Slytherin continued, his silver eyes blazing.

"Your coming here was an accident that no one could have predicted. Not Dumbledore, and certainly not Voldemort. No one ever planned for the possibility, and no one will be prepared for the consequences."

"Oh," Harry breathed. Now he understood. Slytherin nodded.

"We will not have time to turn you into battle-mages like Godric," he said quietly. "We will not be able to teach you everything in Rowena's library. But we can teach you how to fight a Dark wizard and survive. We can teach you how to triumph over Dark creatures." His eyes gleamed. "We can show you how to find Horcruxes, and we can give you the knowledge of how to destroy them. And we can certainly teach you how to destroy this so-called Dark Lord once and for all."

For a long moment, Harry could only stare at him. He had known that the Founders were on their side. He had known that they were doing everything they could. Now he knew that they cared too. Maybe, just maybe...

"Do you think I can do it?" he asked quietly.

Slytherin did not hesitate even for a moment. "I believe you can do anything you truly need to do."

Harry nodded slowly. "I need to do this."

And he would. For his parents, for Cedric, for all who had suffered at Voldemort's hands. He would put an end to this. He took a deep breath and looked up.

"I will stop him."

Pride, and maybe a hint of sadness filled Slytherin's eyes. "I have no doubt of that."

And the utter sincerity in his voice soothed the last of Harry's doubts. "Thank you."

"It was the least I could do."

As the two of them sat there, Harry finally allowed himself to reflect on the task before him. It would not be easy. People on both sides would die. He might die. But he would never stop fighting. And, for the sake of those lost, and for those still in danger, he would not lose.

Harry had not asked for this. He had never asked to be a hero. But the rest of the wizarding world thought he was. They had faith in him.

He would not let them down.


Hours later, a solitary figure stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower. It was late; the full moon bathed the grounds in silver, but Salazar paid no heed to the beauty, nor to the lateness of the hour. Sleep eluded him as his mind continued to ponder the problem that lay before him.

He had meant what he said to Harry. He was certain that Voldemort could be defeated. Now that they knew about the Horcruxes, the man's main advantage was lost. Any mortal man, no matter how powerful, could be slain. A grim smile touched his lips; with Hermione's intelligence, Ron's tenacity, and Harry's sheer courage, the trio were already a force to be reckoned with. With proper training they would be formidable indeed.

But it would not be easy. As brave and brilliant as they were, they were still little more than children, unused to war. They would be outnumbered, and facing a foe that was already bathed in blood.

Salazar had no doubt that they would prevail. But he shuddered to think of the price they would have to pay.

They were not ready. Harry was not ready.

He should not have to be. The world should not be relying on a boy to save them. A child should not be forced to kill a monster.

Voldemort was of his blood. Maybe not his direct descendent, maybe not his heir, but still his blood. His responsibility.

Sometimes... Sometimes you needed a monster to slay a monster.

His mind shrank instinctively from the idea; the thought of losing all he had fought so hard to gain was almost too much to bear. He needed them, and they needed him.

But Harry, and Ron, and Hermione...

And Voldemort.

There was no need to make a decision yet. There was still time. But one day, it would have to be made.

And either way, Salazar would lose.

Notes:

I know that some of their interpretations of the prophecy are wrong, but neither the trio, nor the Founders, know everything Dumbledore does, and Dumbledore isn't there. He will get the chance to explain himself when they return to the future.

Chapter 10: Erklings and Centaurs and Trolls, Oh My!

Notes:

All credit to my brother for the erkling idea. Thanks, Andy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Ron," said Harry in exasperation. "I told you that."

"But are you really?" asked Hermione. "I mean, after yesterday no one would blame you."

Harry suppressed a sigh. He appreciated the concern, but their fretting was beginning to get on his nerves. Ron folded his arms. "Come on mate, you can't expect us to us believe you're happy about it."

Harry snorted. "No, I'm delighted that I'm prophesied to kill Voldemort. The only thing that could make me feel any better would be finding out that I've got a random bit of soul stuck in my head. O wait..." His friends exchanged looks and he relented. "Look, I hate all of this, but what good is obsessing over it going to do?"

Hermione looked relieved. "I'm so glad, Harry. Prophecies are tricky things, even when they are true."

Ron glanced at her. "You're saying that you believe this one?"

"Well, it did sound authentic," Hermione admitted. "And there was some information that not even Trelawney could have made up."

"And the fact that Professor Ravenclaw and the others accepted it has nothing to do with it?" Harry asked with a grin.

Hermione ignored him. "Anyway, now that we know Voldemort's going to come after you-"

"We already knew that," Ron interrupted. "Harry's beaten him too many times for You-Know-Who to afford to leave him in peace."

"Thanks Ron," said Harry dryly.

"Anyway," said Hermione loudly, "it means that we really need to make the most of our time here. We can get training from the Order back home, but the Founders have much more experience with fighting powerful Dark wizards."

Harry nodded. "Professor Slytherin said the same thing."

"Good." She fixed the pair of them with a sharp look. "You know this means we have to start taking this seriously."

"We have been," said Ron indignantly. "I swear I've learned more in the past week than I have in months."

"I'm not sure that that's a good thing, but it's going to get even harder now. I read a bit about non-verbal magic before our O.W.L.s, and it really doesn't look easy."

"Yeah, but it's going to be brilliant! I can't wait to learn to Apparate."

"That will be useful," Harry agreed. "Being able to use magic at home is going to make things easier too."

"I just hope that no one finds out about that," Hermione muttered.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured her. "We'll just have to be careful."

There was a brief silence, then Ron asked, "Can we at least tell the twins?"

Harry grinned, and Hermione rolled her eyes heavenward as they entered the Great Hall.

The three of them were just finishing their breakfast when Gryffindor and Hufflepuff arrived. They started to rise, only for Gryffindor to wave them back down.

"How are the three of you this morning?"

"We're all well, sir," Harry answered.

Gryffindor held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. "I am glad to hear it." He made no mention of the previous day's events, for which Harry was grateful.

"Where are Professors Ravenclaw and Slytherin?" asked Hermione.

"They are occupied with research," Hufflepuff told her.

"Already?" Ron exclaimed.

Gryffindor grinned. "They were both intrigued by the possibilities. Frankly, I am amazed that they waited this long."

Hufflepuff nodded in agreement. "I expect we will have to remind them to eat when we return."

Harry smiled at the thought, but Hermione tilted her head to one side. "When you return? Where are you going?"

Gryffindor looked round at them, and Harry felt a sudden surge of apprehension at the gleam in his green eyes. "It occurred to us that we have not yet determined the extent of your knowledge concerning magical creatures."

"We all took Care of Magical Creatures," said Harry. "We learned," visions of Skrewts and flobberworms swam before his eyes, "some things."

"Hagrid's an interesting teacher," said Hermione wryly.

"Putting it mildly," Ron muttered. "We do know a lot about dragons though."

"You don't want to know," said Harry quickly. "No one got hurt." Not seriously at any rate. Gryffindor looked tempted, but Hufflepuff touched his arm.

"Have you had any other experience with magical creatures?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "Professor Lupin, our third year Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, covered quite a lot of Dark creatures."

"Boggarts, hinkypunks, Red Caps, grindylows, and kappas," Hermione recited. "Oh, and werewolves."

Harry grimaced. "Lots about werewolves." And they definitely wouldn't want to know about that.

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "You actually had a competent teacher?"

"Lupin was brilliant," said Harry. "He had to leave at the end of the year, but he's part of the Order, so we still see him."

"Good," said Hufflepuff. "Do you think he would he be willing to teach you when you return?"

"Probably. He was good friends with my parents."

Ron nodded. "He and Sirius will definitely be happy to help. Moody and Tonks too, I reckon."

Gryffindor smiled. "Excellent. Make sure you ask them. In the meantime, we will do what we can to remedy this situation."

"What exactly are we going to be doing?" asked Hermione. She sounded somewhat wary, and Harry found that he couldn't blame her in the slightest. Gryffindor's grin widened.

"Have any of you ever been in the forest?"

"It's forbidden," said Hermione automatically. Gryffindor just raised an eyebrow. Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

"Maybe a few times."

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff exchanged amused looks.

"Why am I not surprised?" Hufflepuff murmured.

"Because you've taught students?" Ron suggested with a grin.

"Indeed."

Hermione's eyes had widened. "We're going into the forest?"

"Precisely."

Harry's stomach twisted. His trips into the forest had all been memorable, but for all the wrong reasons. Ron's grin disappeared, and Hermione paled. Heedless of their dismay, Gryffindor continued.

"The forest is inhabited by a number of dangerous creatures," he said. "And it is this that makes it such a valuable training opportunity."

"We will also be taking the opportunity to investigate some of the more interesting flora," said Hufflepuff. "We are extremely fortunate to have access to such an environment, for many of these plants are very rare."

Harry took a deep breath. "Fortunate. Right." Hermione was staring fixedly at the floor, and Ron had gone an interesting shade of green. Gryffindor looked round at them.

"No harm will come to you while we are there. Of that I give you my word."

Harry could remember Hagrid saying something very similar, but Gryffindor was not Hagrid. He took a deep breath.

"So, what are we going to be doing?"

Gryffindor nodded approvingly. "Helga will showing you some of the more...interesting plantlife. If we happen across any potential threats, I will show you how to manage them. We will not be staying long."

Hermione managed a smile. "That doesn't sound too bad." She glanced at Harry. "At least we're not teaching giants to talk."

"Or following spiders," Ron added with a shudder. "Acromantulas aren't around yet, right?"

"They won't be discovered for several centuries," Hermione assured him. "There definitely aren't any here."

Harry glanced at Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. "In our time, there's a colony in the forest," he explained. "They're horrible."

"Putting it mildly," Ron mumbled.

Hufflepuff shot him a sympathetic look. "I have never heard of any such creatures," she agreed.

Gryffindor nodded. "I doubt we will have any problems. Are the three of you ready?" he asked, glancing at the empty plates. The trio exchanged a quick look, and Harry nodded.

"We're ready." As much as they were ever going to be anyway.

"Then let us be on our way."

Harry took a deep breath. At the very least, this was going to be interesting.

Ten minutes later, as he stood staring into the depths of the forest, Harry reflected that interesting might not have been quite the best way of describing the situation. Ron's expression was equally wary.

"Are you sure we can't find these plants anywhere else?"

Gryffindor laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "We could, but this is considerably more convenient." Gently, but firmly, he guided the redhead onto the path. Harry and Hermione exchanged resigned looks ad followed, with Hufflepuff bringing up the rear.

At first, it was not too bad. It was a sunny day, and the trees were not thick enough to seem too threatening. The presence of the Founders certainly helped.

"Helga, look at that."

"Leave it alone, Godric."

"But is that not the one that you use in Burn-Soothing Paste?"

"I use the one with red petals. That one would kill you faster than the burn."

Gryffindor pulled a face at the trio. "Herbology has never been my speciality."

Hufflepuff patted him on the arm. "We cannot be good at everything. And Salazar will be glad of these."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "He makes poisons?"

"When he has to," said Gryffindor. "Something we have had cause to be very grateful for." Harry shot him a questioning look, and he grimaced. "Some threats cannot be fought on the battlefield."

Harry nodded slowly. He didn't like it, but he could imagine there were times when a more subtle approach was necessary. Ron looked less convinced, but he knew the Founders well enough by now to keep his concerns to himself.

"In any case," said Hufflepuff, as she straightened up, "these particular plants can be used for more than just poisons. We have been meaning to collect more for some time."

Gryffindor grinned at the trio. "So any explosions you hear in the next few days are nothing to be concerned about."

"Explosions?" Hermione exclaimed.

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff exchanged looks.

"Salazar does like to experiment."

Gryffindor chuckled. "Indeed he does, and not always with the best results."

Harry frowned. "Is that safe?"

"He will be fine," Gryffindor assured him. "He knows to be careful, especially since Helga does not appreciate having to heal such injuries."

"Certainly not," Hufflepuff muttered. "Fortunately, his Shield Charms have improved considerably."

Gryffindor smiled, but did not comment. Somewhat reassured, Harry let the matter drop. He did make a mental note to keep an ear out for any unusual noises though.

Harry was broken from his thoughts by Hermione's startled gasp.

"What are those?"

Harry whirled round, and his mouth fell open. Approaching from the nearby bushes were half a dozen...somethings. They were about three feet tall, with narrow, wicked looking eyes and pointed teeth. Their fingers ended in long claws, and Harry found himself reaching instinctively for his wand.

Ron's face, however, had split into a broad grin.

"Oh, we know how to deal with these."

Harry stared at him. "We do?"

But Ron had already stepped forwards and, heedless of the ferocious snarls, grabbed the closest creature by the ankles. Before anyone could protest, he had whirled the thing round his head, and hurled it a good thirty feet into the surrounding forest. He glanced back at them and pulled a face.

"It would have gone further if the trees hadn't gotten in the way."

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione demanded.

Ron blinked. "What I always do with gnomes. These are a bit different to the ones back home, but it still works."

"Are you blind?" Hermione shrieked. "That's not a gnome!"

Ron stared from her to the growling creatures. "Er..."

"These are erklings," said Hufflepuff. Her voice was level, but her lips were twitching suspiciously. "The typical method of dealing with them is to use a Stunning Spell."

Ron's ears blazed red. "Oh."

"I have to say though," said Gryffindor. "This technique also seems to be fairly effective." He was watching the erkling stagger away; evidently Ron's assault had been as much as it was willing to take. "I wonder..."

"Godric," Hufflepuff began, but Gryffindor had already moved in the direction of the group. A moment later, a startled looking erkling went flying through the air, and collided with a tree. Gryffindor nodded to an open-mouthed Ron.

"I agree. It does work."

A slow smile spread across Ron's face. "Thanks." A gleam entered his eyes. "I bet I can get the next one further."

"Ron," Hermione groaned, but Harry nudged her.

"It's not doing any harm," he murmured. "And Gryffindor doesn't mind."

Hermione's lips pursed, but Ron and Gryffindor's open laughter as they competed, and Hufflepuff's fond smile as she watched made her pause. Harry smiled at her.

"Let them have some fun. Good throw!" he called, as one of Ron's erklings went flying past his head.

Hermione hesitated a moment, then she relaxed. "Well done, Ron."

Ron glanced at her and grinned. "Thanks."

Harry looked away, and caught the small smile playing on Hufflepuff's lips as she looked between the pair of them.

"Intriguing."

Harry grinned. "Obvious."

"Just a little."

Gryffindor strolled over to them, his green eyes sparkling. "That was interesting."

Hufflepuff rolled her eyes, but before she could comment, a voice sounded from behind them.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Godric Gryffindor?"

Harry spun round, wand in hand, but Gryffindor caught his shoulder and pulled him back. "Very much so, Dorian."

Harry could only stare in open-mouthed astonishment. How the hell had a centaur managed to get that close without him noticing? Judging from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff's complete lack of surprise, its approach had not gone completely undetected, but Ron and Hermione looked about as startled as he felt.

The centaur had a glossy chestnut coat, and his eyes were a deep grey. Harry shivered; the piercing gaze seemed to see right through him, and he was reminded of the futility of trying to keep secrets from Slytherin. Gryffindor turned to them.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, this is Elder Dorian. Dorian, these are guests of ours."

Dorian's eyes narrowed. "Guests. I see." Harry tensed, but the centaur's gaze passed over them and returned to the Founders. "I bring a warning."

Gryffindor's smile disappeared immediately. "Speak."

"Mars rises. The demons are running. There is only one conclusion."

"War," said Hufflepuff. Her usually gentle expression was steely. Dorian nodded.

"It is coming, and the cost will be great."

"Can anything be done?" asked Gryffindor.

Dorian was silent for a moment. "Guard yourselves. Loose tongues will cost lives."

Gryffindor's lips twisted. "As clear as ever, Dorian."

"I shall inform the heavens of your displeasure," said Dorian dryly.

Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "My apologies." He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "We thank you for the warning."

Dorian nodded, but he did not move. His attention was once again on Harry and his friends.

"Is something wrong?" asked Hufflepuff.

Dorian's eyes did not move from Harry's. "Some time ago, we saw something change. At the time, we could not agree about whether or not it was for the better."

Harry swallowed. "And now?"

"We do not know," said Dorian quietly. "Your actions, and those of you companions, are hidden from us. But know this," his gaze rested on each of them in turn, "you have set things in motion that cannot be undone. Your presence will have consequences, both in this time, and your own."

Hermione started. "You know?"

"Certainly." He turned back to the Founders. "We will inform you, should anything be revealed to us."

"We appreciate it," said Gryffindor. "Thank you."

Dorian inclined his head. "War affects us all." He turned to leave.

"Wait," Harry called. "What about us?" He couldn't just leave it at that, could he?

Dorian paused, and glanced back over his shoulder. "I have told you what I can. Your fate is yours to decide." His gaze flickered to Ron and Hermione. "You three stand apart. And you alone can decide your destinies." He dipped his head, then there was a pounding of hooves and he was gone, leaving three very confused time-travellers staring after him.

It was Hufflepuff who broke the silence.

"We should return. Rowena and Salazar will wish to know of this."

Gryffindor shook himself and nodded. "Agreed." He glanced at the trio. "I am afraid we will have to cut your lesson a little short."

At that moment, their interrupted trip was the last thing on Harry's mind. "What the hell was all that about?"

Gryffindor ran a hand through his hair. "We met with the centaurs when we first chose this site," he said. "In exchange for leaving them in peace and protecting their territory, they promised to inform us of anything that might threaten the safety of Hogwarts."

"I guess war qualifies," said Ron. "But was all that about us?"

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff glanced at each other.

"It is difficult to be sure," Gryffindor admitted. "Everything we said about prophecies being ambiguous applies doubly so when it comes to the centaurs."

Hufflepuff nodded. "Rowena is of the opinion that they are doing it deliberately." She sighed. "Whether or not that is so, it does appear that the three of you have a larger role to play here than we originally believed."

"Good."

Everyone turned to stare at Harry.

"Good," Ron repeated warily. "Really?"

"Yes," said Harry. "We told you we wanted to help. Now it looks like we're supposed to."

"The danger," Hufflepuff began, but Harry shook his head.

"We're going to be in just as much danger when we get back," he pointed out. "Probably more considering that stupid prophecy. If we don't learn how to fight in proper battles then we're not going to stand a chance."

"He's right," said Hermione. She was pale, but her voice was strong as she faced the Founders. "Training in a controlled environment will only take us so far; we learned that this year. We need to fight people who are actual threats."

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff both tensed.

"We understand," said Gryffindor, "and were these typical problems, then we might agree, but there is more to this particular threat than you realise."

"Then explain it to us," said Hermione.

Hufflepuff shook her head. "This is not the time," she said, and the steel in her voice halted any thought of argument. "We will discuss it with the others, but you will not engage anyone without our express permission. Is that understood?"

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "You will think about it though?"

Gryffindor nodded. "You are not ready for some of the things that we will face, but there may be some ways you can help."

Ron stared at him. "Really?"

The ghost of a smile touched Gryffindor's lips. "You are not incompetent; indeed, your skills are improving rapidly. And we cannot deny that you need the experience."

Harry allowed himself to relax a little. It wasn't everything he wanted, but it was a start. For now, it would do. Ron glanced at him, and then at Gryffindor.

"And if we keep improving?"

"We will see." But Harry caught the pride that flickered in his eyes. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, and saw his own resolve mirrored in their faces. They would improve, and then they would show everyone just how much of a threat they could be.

Over the next few days though, Harry came to the realisation that becoming strong enough to threaten Voldemort was not going to be as easy as he had hoped. The Founders continued to train them, but it seemed that they had not been exaggerating the difficulty of their newest lessons.

"Apparition is one of the most useful skills a wizard can learn," Slytherin had said, at the start of their first lesson. "It makes travel easier, and is by far the fastest method of getting yourself out of trouble, but it is not perfect. Can any of you tell me when Apparition may not be possible?"

Predictably, Hermione's hand shot into the air. "There are spells that can stop you from Apparating."

Slytherin nodded. "And very frustrating they are too. There are wards that can serve the same purpose."

"What's the difference between them?" asked Harry. Hermione sighed, but Slytherin barely batted an eyelid at the question.

"A spell will only last a few hours, depending on the strength of the caster, but a ward will prevent Apparition until it decays, or is actually dispelled, potentially centuries in the future. There are Anti-Apparition wards surrounding Hogwarts, for example, and many other important buildings have taken to applying them as well. Now, are there any other disadvantages to Apparition?"

"Don't you have to know where you're going?" asked Ron.

"Indeed. You must be able to precisely visualise your destination. The consequences of failing to do so are not pleasant."

Ron's face went slightly green. "Splinching?"

Slytherin grimaced. "Precisely."

"Has it ever happened to you?" asked Harry.

Slytherin's gaze became haunted. "Once. The first time I Apparated." Hermione drew in a sharp breath, and he gave a bitter smile. "It was an excellent incentive to do better."

Harry swallowed. "Right."

Slytherin glanced at him. "I had had no prior instruction, and was not in the best physical or mental condition at the time. You will not have such problems. Although if you do, Helga has had plenty of experience with such injuries."

Harry was tempted to ask more, but the look in Slytherin's eyes was achingly familiar. Instead, he took a deep breath. "All right, what do we do?"

The rest of the lesson had not improved. No matter how hard Harry concentrated on the interior of the circle Slytherin had traced on the floor, he simply could not will his body to move. Ron and Hermione had met with an equal lack of success, but Slytherin had not been discouraged.

"This is not an easy branch of magic to master," he had told them. "Every witch and wizard I have ever taught has struggled with it."

Harry was not convinced. "You did it when you were younger than us."

Slytherin's face darkened. "And you all of people should know that the risk of imminent death provides an excellent incentive." Harry shivered, and his eyes softened. "Keep practicing, and you will succeed. I have no doubt about that."

Healing had been slightly better, though they had gotten quite a shock when they arrived in the hospital wing to find a leg of raw meat lying on the table.

"I have found this to be the best method of modelling a typical laceration," Hufflepuff had explained.

Harry was carefully not looking at the bleeding meat. "Er, good." Ron seemed equal parts intrigued and horrified, but Hermione looked like she was about to be sick. Hufflepuff laid a hand on her back.

"Healing is never a pleasant business," she said quietly. "There is nothing that can really prepare you for it. I will understand if you do not wish to participate."

Hermione shook her head, her eyes hardening with resolve. "No. I need to learn this."

Hufflepuff smiled at her. "I am glad to hear it. Now, once you have mastered this, we will begin on sprains and dislocations, before moving on to the correct treatment for broken bones and internal injuries..."

None of them had performed brilliantly in that either, but Harry would have taken both Apparition and Healing over the fiasco that had been their non-verbal session. Try as he might, he simply couldn't perform even the simplest spells without saying the incantation. Hermione was not helping matters.

"Excellent, Hermione," Ravenclaw exclaimed, as Hermione succeeded in levitating her feather at the end of their third lesson. "I do believe you have got it."

Hermione practically glowed with pride. "It's all to do with intent, isn't it? The incantation just helps you to concentrate on what you want to do."

"Precisely, and it will only become easier with practice. I am sure you have noticed how we rarely need to verbalise our intent."

Harry and Ron exchanged dismayed looks. As happy as they were for Hermione, it was more than a little discouraging. Ravenclaw caught the expressions on their faces.

"Do not be disheartened. It does take time to learn to cast like this."

"Not for Hermione," Ron mumbled.

"That is because Hermione is naturally more focused," said Ravenclaw.

"Huh?"

Ravenclaw smiled. "Both you and Harry are very similar to Godric in that you rely more on your emotions and instincts than logic. This is no bad thing, but it does mean that you have to concentrate harder on the effect you wish to cause when channelling your magic silently."

"So you found that easier than Professor Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, as did Salazar," said Ravenclaw. "It is simply due to differences in how we think. In contrast, both Godric and Helga found it considerably easier to learn wandless magic than either Salazar or I did."

Ron brightened. "Do you think we could try that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ravenclaw just smiled. "One must learn to ride a horse, before one can fly a Pegasus. Let us try this again."

She had been patient, and Hermione had tried to help, but the lesson had ended without any further progress being made. Harry tried not to feel too despondent; non-verbal magic was difficult, everyone had told him so, but it was hard to ignore such persistent failure.

Even Duelling had taken a turn for the worse.

"Harry, behind you!"

"Protego!"

The shield held, but Gryffindor raised an eyebrow.

"Harry..."

"I know," Harry mumbled. "Non-verbally." He knew what he was supposed to do, but when he saw the spell coming, his instincts just took over. Gryffindor sighed.

"I know your first instinct is to verbalise the incantation, but you cannot afford to reveal your intentions so easily in an actual duel."

"But it doesn't work otherwise!"

"It will. Harry, you have been learning for less than a week. It usually takes students at least a couple of months to be able to cast silently and without hesitation."

Ron glanced at him. "How long did it take you?"

"Just over two weeks," Gryffindor admitted. "But it was that, or risk getting myself killed, so..."

Ron swallowed. "Yeah, that would do it."

Gryffindor gave a small smile. "Indeed, but that will not be relevant here. You will succeed in time."

Harry sighed, but before they could continue, there was a knock at the door, and Slytherin entered. Behind him trailed a young man. Both wore grim expressions, and Gryffindor's eyes narrowed.

"What has happened?"

Slytherin nodded to the other man, who stepped forwards. "Ingrid saw something sirs. Hengist sent me up here immediately."

"What is it?"

The man swallowed. "Trolls, sir. Three of them." Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged a long look as he continued. "She thought they would come to the village, but they just walked straight past. I passed them on the way up." He shivered. "Never thought I'd ever be grateful for that broom."

"Did they see you?" asked Slytherin.

"I don't think so. I stayed above them and kept quiet."

Gryffindor nodded. "You did well." He glanced at Slytherin. "The wards should stop them, but we cannot let them be."

"Not this close to Hogsmeade," Slytherin agreed. He turned to the messenger. "Return to the village and tell Hengist that we will manage the situation."

"Yes sirs." He bowed to the two of them and slipped from the room. Gryffindor sighed and turned back to the trio.

"I apologise, but we must attend to this. We will resume this when I return."

"Wait," Harry called.

"Yes?"

"Let us help."

"Harry," Gryffindor began, but Harry didn't give him a chance to argue.

"Look, we might not be good enough to fight actual Dark wizards, but we beat a troll in our first year. We can do this."

"You were lucky," said Slytherin sharply.

"Yeah, but that was years ago. Now we know what we're doing."

"There's three of them, and only two of you," Ron added. "We can stop the last one from getting in the way."

They still did not look convinced, but Harry had no intention of backing down. He had had quite enough of watching other people go into danger, and this was something they could do.

"Professors," Hermione began quietly. "Voldemort used trolls in the last war. It's only a matter of time before he uses them again. We need to know how to fight them properly."

Harry could have hugged her. The Founders exchanged another long look, then Gryffindor turned to them.

"Do you promise to obey our instructions?" he asked.

"Yes sir," said Harry quickly, but Gryffindor wasn't finished.

"Do you promise to listen if we tell you to fall back and leave it to us?"

Harry hesitated, but Gryffindor's gaze was implacable. "Yes."

"And do you promise to obey us if we tell you to flee and leave us behind?" asked Slytherin.

"What?"

"We'd never do that," said Ron hotly.

"You will if we tell you to," said Slytherin, "or you will not come at all."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. He hated the thought of abandoning anyone, but it did not look like they had any choice in the matter.

"Fine."

"You promise?"

"We promise."

Slytherin met each of their gazes in turn before nodding. "Very well then."

"Yes!"

"Ron!"

"Sorry."

Harry just grinned. "Thanks."

Slytherin sighed. "You do need the practice. That is the only reason." He glanced at Gryffindor. "Helga and Rowena will not be best pleased."

Gryffindor grimaced. "We will deal with that later. For now, we must be on our way. I will take Ron and Hermione if you take Harry." He glanced at the trio. "Have any of you travelled by Side-Along Apparition before?"

All three shook their heads, but Ron's expression turned wary.

"My brothers have said that it's worse than normal Apparition."

"They are correct," said Slytherin with a grimace. "Unfortunately, it is the fastest method available to us."

Harry took a deep breath and took his proffered arm. "All right."

Slytherin shot him a small smile, then the world disappeared.

The journey could not have lasted more than a second or two, but Harry had never been so glad to once again feel solid ground beneath his feet. He staggered forwards, trying desperately not to lose his dinner, and only Slytherin's iron grip on his arm kept him upright.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"Fine," harry choked. Why had he ever wanted to learn this again? Slytherin gave him a sympathetic look, just as a soft crack sounded, and Gryffindor appeared with Ron and Hermione. Harry was slightly relieved to see that both looked as ill as he felt.

"Bloody hell," Ron mumbled. "I am never doing that again."

"It gets easier after the first few times," Gryffindor assured him.

"It couldn't get much worse," Hermione gasped.

Slytherin's eyes narrowed as he looked at the three of them. "Are you certain that you wish to do this? You would be safe here until we are done."

If anything could overcome Harry's nausea, that was it. "No! We're coming with you."

"Trolls cannot be underestimated," said Gryffindor grimly. "If you do not feel well enough-"

"We're fine," Harry insisted. His stomach twisted, but he forced the discomfort aside.

"He's right," said Hermione. Her voice shook slightly, but she met Gryffindor's gaze steadily. "We can do this."

Gryffindor grimaced, and Slytherin pinched the bridge of his nose, but Ron's face suddenly went white.

"What the hell?"

Harry spun round, and his nausea suddenly returned in full force.

The troll they had fought in their first year had been about twelve feet tall. Each of the three shapes staggering towards them had to be at least twice that. Two were armed with clubs, the third seemed content to swing at anything in its path with its enormous fists.

"All right," Harry whispered. "We can still do this."

Slytherin glanced at him. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. He could see his own fear reflected in their eyes, but beneath that fear was something else. Not for nothing had they all been sorted into Gryffindor. He turned back to the Founders.

"We're ready."

The pride in their eyes made it all seem worth it.

"All right," said Gryffindor quietly. "Now listen to me. Trolls have poor eyesight, but they have extremely sensitive hearing to compensate for it. Take advantage of that; use the Sonorus charm to confuse them. Their skin is extremely resilient; you will have to cast in unison for your spells to take effect."

Harry took a deep breath. "Loud noises, attack together. Got it."

"We will take the two that are armed," Slytherin continued. "You concentrate on the third. Make the most of your size and speed, but do not underestimate how dangerous these creatures are."

"We won't," Hermione promised. "I don't think we could."

Gryffindor's face was very grave. "We will be keeping an ear out. If you do get into difficulties, call and one of us will assist you."

"Thanks," Ron mumbled.

Gryffindor smiled at him. "You will be fine."

Hermione swallowed. "Are you sure?"

"We will not let any harm come to you. I promise you that."

Harry closed his eyes. He knew that the Founders would keep their words, but the size of that creature... A hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked up to meet Slytherin's silver eyes.

"You will overcome this obstacle as you have every other," he said quietly. "I have complete confidence in that."

Harry finally managed a small smile. "Thanks."

Slytherin's grip tightened for a moment. "Be careful." For once, his mask slipped, and the open concern in his face meant almost as much as his pride had earlier.

"I'll do my best if you will."

A smirk touched Slytherin's lips. "Always." He nodded to Ron and Hermione, then turned to Gryffindor. "Ready."

Gryffindor held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "All right."

Slytherin dipped his head, and Disapparated. Gryffindor turned to the trio. "We will draw ours a little apart to keep them from interfering. Remember, do not hesitate to call for assistance, should you require it." His eyes darkened. "And do not hesitate to fall back. This is not worth losing your lives over." He gave them a small smile. "Good luck."

With that he Disapparated, and the three of them were alone.

Harry took a deep breath, and turned to face the enemy. It did not take long to notice a change.

"There's Slytherin!"

Ron's jaw dropped. "Wow."

His astonishment was justified. Gryffindor had mentioned that Apparition could be used in battle, but Harry had never imagined anything like this. Slytherin never remained in place longer than the time necessary to fire off a spell before disappearing again, and the poor troll simply did not know which way to turn. Harry grinned as roars of frustration echoed across to them.

"I think it's working."

"Look at Professor Gryffindor," Hermione gasped.

Harry spun and his eyes widened. Gryffindor did not Apparate, but like Slytherin, he never stayed still long enough to present a viable target. He ducked and dodged around his exasperated opponent, a constant stream of spells of all kinds flying from his wand. It was a dazzling display; already the troll was staggering under the neverending assault.

"Harry," Ron exclaimed. Harry turned, and bit back a curse.

The third troll was apparently completely unconcerned by the fate of its companions. It continued to lumber towards them, and Harry really did not like the look on its face. He drew his wand, and concentrated on keeping his voice from shaking.

"Spread out. Cast the charm, and keep shouting. Stunners when I give the signal."

"Right," Hermione murmured. Ron's grip tightened on his wand as he nodded.

"Go!"

The three of them scattered. Harry sprinted to the left, all the time keeping his gaze locked on his opponent. It paused, its tiny head moving stupidly as it tried to track them, but Harry did not give it a chance to make its mind up.

"Sonorus." His throat became suddenly warm, but he ignored it. "Hey, ugly!"

Harry was slightly startled by the speed at which the troll's head whipped round. It let out a low growl.

"Over here, idiot!"

Ron's magically amplified voice echoed round them, and the troll spun again. Harry grinned.

"Are you blind as well as stupid?"

He wasn't sure whether it was the volume or the insults, but Gryffindor's tactic appeared to be working. The troll was frozen in place by its own decision as it tried to choose between the different targets.

"What do you think you're doing?"
Hermione had evidently chosen that moment to join in, but the troll had had enough. It roared again, and slammed its fist down. The shock sent Harry staggering, and he heard Hermione scream.

"Hermione!" Rage and terror blinded him. "Stupefy!"

His aim was true, but the spell bounced harmlessly off its thick skin. Harry swore; all he had succeeded in doing was attracting its attention, but a moment later another spell, courtesy of Ron, bounced off its head, and it whirled round with a bellow.

"No! We need to attack together!"

Harry had never been so glad to hear Hermione's voice. A burst of energy filled him, and he pushed himself to his feet.

"Harry, when?" Ron called.

"On three," Harry yelled. "One...two...three!"

"Stupefy!"

Three spells did what one could not. The troll staggered, shaking its head dully.

"Again!"

"Stupefy!"

That trick did the trick. Slowly, the giant creature toppled forwards and landed facefirst with a deafening crash.

For a long moment, there was complete silence. Harry stared at their fallen opponent, unable to quite believe what had happened. Had they just...

"Excellent."

Harry almost jumped out of his skin. "Professors!"

Slytherin winced. "Harry, the charm..."

"Quietus. Sorry."

"Quite understandable," Gryffindor assured him. His expression tuned serious. "Ron and Hermione?"

Harry's heart leapt into his mouth, but his fears were assuaged a moment later as a voice drifted over to them.

"We're fine."

Harry's shoulders slumped with relief as Ron and Hermione appeared from round the other side of the troll. They, well probably Hermione, had already thought to cancel their charms.

"Are you all right?" Slytherin demanded.

"We're not hurt," said Hermione. "Somehow."

Open relief showed on the Founders' faces.

"Good," said Gryffindor. "When we heard your shouts, we wondered if you were having difficulties."

Ron grimaced. "It was a lot harder than the last one."

"At least this one didn't have a club," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, shame about that." There was a certain lack of sincerity in Ron's voice.

Slytherin's lips twitched. "You all did well."

Harry managed a small smile. "Thanks." He paused to look at them properly. "Did you-"

"We are both unharmed," Gryffindor assured him.

Indeed, although both were breathing hard, neither Founder looked like they had done anything especially out of the ordinary. Slytherin caught their looks, and gave a slight shrug.

"We have encountered far worse."

Harry opened his mouth, then decided he didn't really want to know and closed it again. He'd ask when they hadn't just defeated a troll. Gryffindor looked round at the three unconscious trolls, and sighed.

"We should return to the school. Helga and Rowena will be concerned."

Ron glanced at him slightly warily. "Are they going to be cross?"

"Probably. They worry about us enough as it is without bringing students into it." Fondness was mingled with the exasperation in his voice. Slytherin shook his head.

"Well, there is nothing to be done about it now. And they will understand, even if they do not like it." He held out his arm to Harry, who took it with some resignation. Slytherin's lips twitched into a slight smirk before they Disapparated.

The next thing Harry knew, he was in the hospital wing. The sensation wasn't quite as disorientating as the last time, but he was still grateful for Slytherin's presence. He heard the others appear next to them, but his attention was abruptly diverted by the stony faces of the waiting witches. Gryffindor rubbed the back of his neck.

"Good afternoon-"

"Explain."

Harry made a mental note to never anger Rowena Ravenclaw. The look she was currently directing at Gryffindor was surprisingly reminiscent of Slytherin's Basilisk, and Harry knew exactly which one he would rather face. Harry's respect for Gryffindor doubled when he met that stare without batting an eyelid.

"Trolls are not a threat only in this time," he said quietly. "If Voldemort should follow his previous strategy, and there is every chance that he will, they will need to learn how to combat them."

"But you have not taught them how," Ravenclaw protested.

"They have experience with fighting trolls," Slytherin reminded her. Seeing her open mouth, he continued without giving her a chance to speak. "We made sure that they knew what they were doing, and we were close enough to offer assistance." His eyes darkened. "Better that they practice now, than be confronted with one in the future and be forced to rely solely on themselves."

Harry nodded. "We wanted to help, and we had to learn. It was fine in the end."

Ravenclaw let out a long breath. "I know, but it is not easy to let our students go into danger."

Harry felt a flush of warmth at her concern. Gryffindor laid a hand on her arm.

"We would not let any harm come to them. You know that."

She sighed. "I do, but we have never stopped worrying about you either."

Gryffindor's gaze softened, and he reached up to brush her cheek.

Harry had to look away from the intimacy of the moment. Hufflepuff caught his eye.

"Are the three of you all right?"

"We're all fine," Hermione assured her. "It was a bit of a shock, but none of us were hurt."

"Good." Her gaze switched to Slytherin and he shook his head.

"We are unharmed."

"Are you sure?"

"Why do you never believe me?"

"Maybe because I know you," she retorted, and Harry had to fight back a grin at the injured look Slytherin shot her. After the events of the past hour, the banter was just what he needed, and he could see Ron and Hermione visibly relax too.

"What will happen to the trolls?" asked Ron. "Ours was only knocked out."

"We will deal with it," said Slytherin. Harry took one look at his face and decided he didn't want to know, but Hermione was frowning.

"Doesn't it seem a bit odd to you?"

"What?" asked Harry.

"The trolls."

"What about them?"

"Well from what I've read, trolls like easy targets."

"That is true," said Gryffindor. "Their intelligence is somewhat limited."

"Then why would they ignore Hogsmeade like that? Surely it would be an easier target than Hogwarts, yet they walked straight past it."

Harry frowned. "That doesn't make any sense." The Founders exchanged a look, and his eyes narrowed. "You know something."

Gryffindor gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Voldemort is not the only Dark wizard to use trolls."

"Your enemies," said Harry. It was becoming clear now. "They sent it to attack you."

"It certainly appears that way."

"But why?" Hermione asked. "If they've fought you before, they must know that a few trolls wouldn't be enough."

Ron blinked. "They weren't trying to break in."

Harry frowned at him. "What?"

"Go on, Ron," said Slytherin quietly.

Ron coloured, but he continued. "They would know that an attack like that wouldn't be enough; they're not stupid. It's like they were just trying to get your attention."

Slytherin glanced at Gryffindor. "Your lessons are bearing fruit, it seems."

Gryffindor smiled. "Indeed." He turned to Ron. "In a way, you are correct. This was not intended as a serious assault."

"Then what was it?" Harry demanded. Whatever Ron saw was still a mystery to him. Ravenclaw turned to him.

"They do not have the strength to challenge us directly, and they know that," she said. "But that does not mean they are helpless."

Gryffindor nodded. "Each encounter, as insignificant as they may be, bears a threat. And constantly being prepared can be more draining than a full scale assault."

Finally, Harry understood. "So they're trying to wear you down."

"Yes," said Hufflepuff. "Even if a final assault never comes, a continuation of the current state of affairs could cause very nearly as much damage."

Hermione bit her lip. "So if they've done small attacks, and less threatening creatures so far, what have they got planned next?"

There was silence. Harry shivered; the trolls had been bad enough, yet the Founders had barely broken a sweat. What could these enemies bring that was powerful enough to challenge them? Harry wasn't sure he wanted to find out. Gryffindor gave a long sigh.

"We do not know," he said quietly. "But we will meet it, and we will not be defeated. Not by them."

And there was no doubting the conviction in his voice. Slytherin nodded, his eyes cold as ice.

"They did their worst last time, and it was not enough. There is nothing they can do that can match that."

Ravenclaw looked away. "But that will not stop them from trying."

Hufflepuff took her hand. "No. But that does not mean that they will succeed." Her face was pale, but there was not a hint of doubt in her voice. "Have faith. They did not win before. They will not win now."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. He would be the first to admit that he didn't understand what was going on, that there was a history here that the Founders had yet to share. But that did not matter. He read agreement in his friends' faces, and turned back to them.

"We will help. I know we're not good enough to fight them," he said quickly, when Gryffindor made as if to protest. "We need to train a lot more before we can do that. But we can help with things like today."

"We cannot ask that of you," said Slytherin quietly.

Harry met his gaze steadily. "We want to. This is our home too. We will do whatever we can to help."

For the first time since their return, a genuine smile touched Ravenclaw's lips. "Truly, you were sorted into the correct house."

Gryffindor nodded. "Indeed they were." His gaze turned serious as he looked round at them all. "We will not promise anything. We do not yet know what we will be confronted with. But we will bear your offer in mind."

That was about as much as Harry had been expecting, so he just nodded. "Thank you."

What he was not expecting was Hufflepuff's warm smile. "And we very much appreciate your help. We are very proud to call you our students."

Pride surged up, as the others nodded their agreement, and Harry felt his resolve harden. He had always known he would do whatever it took to protect his home and loved ones. Being a thousand years in the past had done nothing to alter that.

Dorian had said that they could make a difference. Harry had every intention of doing so.

Chapter 11: Giving Something Back

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

He stood alone on the battlefield. His body burned from the magic he had expended, but he stood straight, wand and bloodstained blade raised. He ignored the bodies surrounding him, they were no further threat. His opponent stood before him. His last, and his greatest.

It was a creature from before time. Ageless, powerful, malevolent. It took a step forwards, and he had to fight to hold his ground against a sudden onslaught of rage and cruelty. Fall back, the beast seemed to whisper. Save yourself. And, for a moment, he wanted nothing more to obey.

But not all of the blood was that of his enemies', and not all of the screams he had heard had come from their throats. Fear died as his own anger blazed up, and then he was running. Fanged teeth showed in a smile, lethal claws came rushing up, and his sword was singing...

And Godric Gryffindor woke with sword in hand, staring at the shreds that remained of his curtains, and trying to control the fury that raged within him.


She had never liked fighting. Her heart lay in preserving life, not taking it. But to protect her people she would fight, and she would kill. They fell before her, and her tears mingled with their blood. All fell, and all died.

And it was too much to bear. Her spells faltered, and her shields failed, and there was pain. So much pain. And she fell, and there was darkness.

Then there was light, and safety, but he was gone, and she found herself wishing for the darkness. And barely had her strength returned before she was forced to spend it again, and though she did so willingly, she knew it was not enough, would never be enough...

Helga Hufflepuff woke with hands glowing gold, and tears running down her cheeks, and the memory of wounds that even she could never heal.


She had always been the weakest combatant of the four of them. It only made sense that she was the one to stay and defend the castle, even if it was never easy to wait while those she held most dear risked their lives.

But to have them come back injured, and be the one responsible for healing them... Nothing compared to that. There was blood, and there were screams, and it was all on her, and she could not succeed, not at this, but there was no one else who could.

Rowena Ravenclaw woke with a start, and a cry, and no book in the world could break her from those memories.


Salazar Slytherin did not even try to sleep. He buried himself in his potions and his research, and did everything he could to keep those memories from his mind. He could not bear to do anything else.


Godric gave up all attempts at sleeping after the dream; he knew that it would do no good. Instead, he pulled on a robe and left his quarters. It was highly unlikely that he was the only one in difficulties this night.

A few minutes later found him knocking on the door to Salazar's chambers.

"Salazar? Are you awake?"

There was a moment's silence, then the door swung open. Godric entered, and made his way through to find, to his complete lack of surprise, Salazar's attention fixed on a bubbling cauldron.

"Is everything all right?"

Godric gave a half-hearted shrug. "Fine."

Salazar glanced up, and his eyes narrowed. "I see." He waved a hand, and Godric turned to see a vial flying through the air towards him. He caught it and looked up.

"Dreamless Sleep?"

"You look like you need it," said Salazar quietly.

Godric tucked it away in a pocket. "Thank you." He studied Salazar, noting the dark rings under his eyes. "You might want to consider taking one yourself. Did you sleep at all?"

"I doubt it would have done much good."

Godric sighed. "Probably not."

Salazar added another ingredient. "What was it?"

"The battle," said Godric softly. "The final part." He shivered and forced the images aside.

"I am sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for." Unlike him. "Salazar-"

"Neither do you, my friend."

Godric closed his eyes. He had heard that before. He still didn't believe it. Salazar's eyes narrowed, but before he could comment there was another knock at the door. Salazar sighed.

"It seems it was not just us." As he spoke, he waved his hand to release the locks on the door.

"Salazar?"

"In here," Godric called. There was a rustle of movement, then Helga and Rowena appeared in the doorway. Salazar took one look at them and Summoned more potions.

"You need them," he said, before either could argue.

Helga took hers with a small smile. "Thank you."

Rowena nodded, her eyes travelling across them. "We thought we would find you awake."

Godric sighed, Conjuring chairs for them all as he did so. "After today, it is hardly surprising."

There was a long silence, broken only by the bubbling of Salazar's cauldron. Eventually, Helga spoke.

"They are becoming more confident. To launch an attack so soon after the previous one..."

"Too confident," said Godric grimly. "We will have to stay prepared."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Were you planning on dropping your guard?" Though his tone was light, none of them missed the tension in his shoulders. Helga laid a hand on his arm.

"We will be fine. We were last time."

Barely, but Godric bit back the words. That would not do any good. Salazar's face twisted into a scowl.

"Which is why we may be in trouble. They have more to prove."

"And we have more to lose," said Rowena quietly.

Godric shook his head. "True, but they now know to fear us. And since I doubt they have fully recovered from last time, any assault here is unlikely to succeed." He managed a smile. "We are stronger than them, and they know it."

Helga and Rowena seemed, if not cheerful, then certainly reassured by his words, but Salazar's face was like stone. Not that Godric could blame him; Salazar, of all people, knew what the Order was capable of.

But that did not mean he would give up. None of them would.

"In all honesty," he continued after a moment, "I feel the more immediate problem is our young guests."

"They are quite determined to help," Rowena agreed. "It will not be long before they are demanding explanations as to why they cannot."

Salazar snorted. "They cannot because they thought it was appropriate to use Stunning Spells against a troll."

"They did their best," said Helga reprovingly.

"I know, but until they learn better, they cannot be involved. They are not ready."

"They will be," said Godric quietly. He had taught hundreds of students, but very few had the strength of will that these three possessed. Their determination to improve had earned his respect, and he had no doubt that they would only continue to grow stronger. Salazar just nodded.

"They will have to be."


Ron cast a quick glance round and leaned over to Harry and Hermione.

"Is it just me," he said quietly, or is everyone looking kind of..."

"Terrible?" Harry suggested.

"Yeah," Ron mumbled.

It was a mark of how accurate the description was that Hermione didn't even try to tell them off. She too had been sneaking looks along the table throughout the meal, and her unease was all too visible. Harry sighed. He had expected Slytherin to look tired, it was a fairly typical, if uncomfortable state of affairs, but to see the others looking so drawn was a sobering experience.

"What do you think is the matter with them?"

Hermione bit her lip. "They look worried."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"Guess these wizards are more trouble than we thought," Ron muttered.

Hermione shot him a scathing look. "They told you that," she hissed. "Maybe now you'll start taking this seriously."

Harry tuned out the familiar sounds of their bickering. If the Founders were actually losing sleep over this, then Hermione was right. They were going to have to be careful.

"Are you all right?"

Harry almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden enquiry. "Fine, Professor."

Hufflepuff did not look like she believed him. "You look a bit peaky."

"So do you," said Harry before he could stop himself. Hermione muttered something inaudible under her breath, but Hufflepuff just gave a wan smile.

"We had some more matters to settle."

Ron frowned. "In the middle of the night?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Why not? The hours are too valuable to waste sleeping."

Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Only you would consider sleep a waste of time."

Harry had to smile. That explained a great deal. "So, everything's all right, then?"

Gryffindor's smile faded slightly, but he nodded. "We will have to remain alert, but the situation is under control."

"For the moment," Slytherin muttered. He fell silent when Ravenclaw shot him a sharp look.

"There is no need to be overly concerned," Hufflepuff continued, as if there had been no interruption.

Harry nodded, but he still had doubts. Judging from their expressions, so did Ron and Hermione. The Founders still looked a little too tense for everything to be fine.

For the time being though, there was nothing they could do about it. Slowly, Harry nodded.

"All right, but you will let us know if there's anything we can do to help, won't you?"

He was pleasantly surprised when all of them, even Ravenclaw, nodded.

"We will," Gryffindor assured them. "Your performance yesterday proved that you are capable of following orders, and you do have some experience already."

Ron grinned. "See? We told you we could handle trolls." Harry was about to voice his agreement, when he saw Gryffindor and Slytherin share a long look.

"What is it?"

"You make it sound like you are experts at fighting trolls," said Slytherin dryly.

"Well, that was our second one. And I thought you said we did well."

"You did," said Gryffindor. "But your performance was not perfect."

Harry's heart sank. "But we beat it."

"Yes, but you could have done so rather more easily than you did."

"We did everything you told us to," Ron argued. "We split up, we distracted it with loud noises, we attacked together-"

"Did you?" Slytherin interrupted.

Harry thought back. They had taken it down together, but before that...

"I attacked it on my own when I thought it had got Hermione."

Gryffindor nodded. "Your reaction was perfectly understandable, but all you succeeded in doing was to draw attention to yourself. You cannot afford to lose control of your emotions."

Harry stared at the table. "Sorry."

"There is no need to apologise," said Hufflepuff gently. "Provided that you learn from the experience."

Slytherin looked round at the three of them. "You did well to split up and confuse it as you did, but you made one further mistake which could have cost you dearly."

Ron frowned, but Hermione's eyes widened. "Our spells..."

"Yes?"

"They weren't strong enough. We all had to attack it again before he actually collapsed."

"Precisely," said Slytherin. "Stunning Spells are highly effective against human enemies, but they lack the destructive power necessary to affect creatures such as trolls. As you saw, it took more than one barrage, and in that interval you were vulnerable to a counter-attack."

Ron's brow furrowed. "So we should have used something like reduto, or bombarda?"

"Indeed. Either of those would have been effective at the first strike."

Harry sighed. So much for their expertise at fighting trolls. Next to him, Ron picked miserably at a loose thread, and Hermione was staring at her hands. Gryffindor's serious expression softened.

"There is no need to be so downcast," he said. "We were never expecting you to fight perfectly on your very first outing."

Ron risked a glance up. "You didn't?"

"Certainly not. We all made mistakes when we began this; we still do in fact. As long as you learn from it, there is no harm done."

"Except to our pride," said Hermione wryly.

"And that is no bad thing either," Slytherin pointed out. "Over-confidence will kill you far more quickly than a poor spell choice."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Embarrassing as it was, he could see where they were coming from. "We'll do better next time," he promised.

Gryffindor smiled at him. "Then there is no more to be said on the matter." His expression darkened. "Although I will begin incorporating more strategies for dealing with Dark creatures into our lessons."

"You think they'll send more then," said Ron quietly.

Gryffindor shrugged. "It certainly looks that way."

"Do you know what sort of things they'll use?" asked Hermione. "Have they done this before?"
Hufflepuff nodded. "They have, though not for some time." Her brow furrowed as she thought back. "Trolls were certainly a favoured option. Was the dragon their doing?"

Slytherin shook his head. "That was an accident."

"Thankfully," Gryffindor muttered. He grimaced when Harry shot him a curious look. "I hate fighting dragons."

"You are not the only one," said Slytherin quietly. "But I would take a dozen of them over the alternative."

Hufflepuff shuddered. "I think I would agree with you."

That did not sound good. "The alternative?"

Ravenclaw grimaced. "When they realised that trolls were ineffective, the found creatures even more hideous. I do not know if they are still present in your time."

Harry had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going. "What are they called?"

Slytherin's fists clenched. "Dementors."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath, and Harry didn't need to look to know that she and Ron were both staring at him. Gryffindor's eyes narrowed.

"You know them?"

Slowly, Harry nodded. "They're used in our time to guard Azkaban, the prison."

Hufflepuff's eyes widened. "You use them?"

Ron blinked at the horror in her voice. "Yeah. The Ministry's been working with them for nearly two hundred years."

"Are they completely insane?" Gryffindor demanded. "What possessed them to ally with Dementors of all creatures?"

"Well, they are effective," said Hermione.

"They are monsters," said Gryffindor flatly. "Death would be more merciful."

Harry was struck by the vehemence in his voice, and it was clear that the others were in complete agreement. It seemed that there was more to their history than they had thought.

"Indeed, death would be preferable by far," Slytherin murmured.

Harry shivered. "I think I'd agree."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Have you encountered these creatures?"

"I thought you said they guarded a prison," Ravenclaw exclaimed. "How could you have come into contact with them?"

"A prisoner escaped during our third year," Hermione explained. "They set Dementors round Hogwarts in case he came here."

"Dementors were here?"

"Not in the school," said Harry quickly. "Dumbledore refused to allow them in the grounds. Not that that stopped them," he added in an undertone. He sighed. "That wasn't a good year."

Slytherin nodded grimly. "There are no worse creatures on the face of this earth." His expression turned haunted. "At least you can kill a dragon."

Harry frowned. "Don't you have any way of fighting them?"

Gryffindor shook his head. "The Ancients had a spell that could repel them, but all details of it have been lost. We have been attempting to recreate it, but..." He spread his hands helplessly.

"We are making progress," said Ravenclaw, "but it will take some time."

Hermione bit her lip. "Is there anything that works against them?"

"Fire has had some effect," Gryffindor told her. "Unfortunately, that brings its own problems."

Ron shot him a curious look at that, but Harry caught the way Slytherin's fists clenched. His face was very pale, and his haunted expression had yet to abate. Glancing round, Harry saw the other Founders looked very nearly as grim. Abruptly, he rose to his feet.

"Would you excuse us for a minute?" he asked. "I need to talk to Ron and Hermione."

They looked startled, but they nodded.

"Is everything all right?" asked Hufflepuff.

"Fine." He grabbed his friends' arms and practically dragged them from the room.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron spluttered.

"Not here," Harry muttered. He didn't stop until they rounded the corner. Ron drew in a deep breath, probably to demand an explanation, but Hermione just planted her hands on her hips to glare at Harry.

"I know what you're going to say Harry, and we can't."

"Why not?" Harry demanded.

"Because we're not supposed to change anything! Who knows what damage we might do?"

Ron stared at her. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

Hermione blew out an exasperated breath. "Harry wants to teach them the Patronus Charm."

Ron's eyes lit up. "That's a brilliant idea!"

"No, it isn't! We could ruin the whole timeline!"

"I don't care," Harry snapped. "You heard them; they've got no way of fighting Dementors properly."

"They could use fire-"

"Come on, Hermione, you know that's no good. If this Order does send Dementors, and I bet they will, they need to be able to fight them properly." He allowed a hint of pleading to leak into his voice. "Hermione, I know how horrible these things are. I can't just let them go through that, not when I can do something about it."

"And you think I can? I don't want this either Harry, but we can't take the risk of doing any damage."

Ron glanced at her. "Is that the only problem you have with it?"

"Well, yes."

"Then would it help if I told you that Godric Gryffindor is supposed to be the one who rediscovered the charm in the first place?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. "What?"

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

Ron's ears tinged pink under the attention. "I was curious about what you told me, so I asked Bill about it when he came back for the World Cup. He was really impressed that you could do it," he added, glancing at Harry.

"But what did he say about Professor Gryffindor?" Hermione demanded.

Ron shrugged. "He said that wizards had been trying to recreate it from old records for centuries, but it was the Founders who finally succeeded. Hogwarts became known as one of the few places that was safe from Dementors, and then they taught others..." His voice trailed off under their stares. "What?"

Harry just grinned at him. "Perfect."

Hermione was looking at him rather speculatively. "I'm impressed, Ron."

Ron's ears darkened again, this time with delight. "I was just curious."

"Good," said Harry. He turned to Hermione. "Well?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know..."

"Oh, come on! We're not going to mess up history, at least not more than we already have. We're just going to help our friends."

"Besides," said Ron, "we'll end up using it when the Dementors attack anyway. And we'll stand a hell of a better chance of surviving all this if they know it too."

Indecision was clearly visible on Hermione's face, but eventually she sighed. "All right."

Harry let out a long breath of relief. "Thanks." Now they could finally start to repay the Founders for all their kindness.

"I can't believe we're going to be teaching the Founders of Hogwarts," Ron murmured.

"I expect they'll pick it up quickly," said Hermione. "They're much stronger than us."

Harry nodded. "I hope so."

All four Founders looked up as they entered the Hall again, and it was easy to read the concern on their faces.

"Are you all right?" asked Gryffindor, as they crossed the room.

"We're fine," Harry assured them. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, who gave him encouraging nods, before turning back to the Founders. "We know how to fight Dementors."

Gryffindor's brow furrowed. "If this is similar to your experience with trolls..."

"It isn't," Harry insisted. "We know the spell that drives them away. I've used it; it works."

The Founders exchanged a long look.

"It has been a thousand years," Slytherin murmured. There was a very curious expression on his face. "This may be exactly what we need."

Hufflepuff nodded. "Their use of Dementors was highly effective last time. They are almost certain to utilise them again."

"And now you'll be able to fight them," said Harry. "Now we really can help."

Gryffindor nodded, but a frown touched Ravenclaw's face. "Indeed you could, but can we take the risk?"

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "You are not supposed to meddle with time." His voice was quite calm, but his knuckles were white as they gripped his staff.

Harry shook his head. "We know there's a risk, but history says that you were the ones who figured it out anyway. We're just speeding things up a bit." The Founders exchanged uneasy looks, and he sighed. "We know how bad Dementors can be," he said quietly. "I don't want anyone to have to deal with that." He was looking at Slytherin as he spoke, and he didn't miss the way the Founder twitched at his words.

"We've discussed it," said Hermione. "We want to do this."

Slowly, Gryffindor nodded. "Then we accept. And we cannot thank you enough."

Ron shuffled his feet. "Least we could do."

Hufflepuff stepped forwards and enveloped each of them in a tight embrace. "Thank you," she whispered.

Ravenclaw nodded fervently. "You may very well have saved all our lives."

Slytherin did not speak, but the gratitude shining in his eyes more than conveyed his feelings. Harry coughed, slightly overcome by the depth of their response.

"You're welcome. So, when do you want to start?"

Gryffindor spread his hands. "Why waste time?"

Harry blinked. "What, right now?"

"Why not? None of us have anything pressing to attend to, and everything is quiet for a change. We had better make the most of it."

"I agree," said Ravenclaw. "We do not know how long this interlude will last, and I expect this will take some time."

Slytherin nodded. "We had best get started then."

Harry ad to fight the urge to fidget while Gryffindor cleared the practice equipment in the Armoury to one side. It was only just beginning to sink in that he, a normal teenage wizard, was going to have to teach a notoriously difficult charm to the Founders of Hogwarts.

"You'll be fine," Ron murmured. "Just pretend it's a normal DA session."

"Yeah, a normal DA session with some of the greatest witches and wizards of all time."

"Don't be silly," said Hermione briskly. "You taught us without any problems; there's no reason to think you won't do as well, if not better, now."

Harry sighed, but there was no time to argue. Ron and Hermione shot him encouraging smiles and moved to one side. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, only to start as a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Calm down, Harry," said Slytherin quietly. "You will be fine." He gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving to stand next to Hufflepuff.

"Go ahead, Harry," said Gryffindor gently.

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. "All right." He drew himself, memories of the DA filling his mind. "So the spell is called the Patronus Charm. It won't kill a Dementor, but it will protect you from its effects, and drive it away if it's strong enough."

"How does it work?" asked Ravenclaw.

"Dementors cause you to relive your worst memories and emotions," Harry explained. "The Patronus is a sort of shield, and because it doesn't have any bad memories, the Dementor can't affect it."

Hufflepuff nodded. "What do we need to do?"

"Concentrate on a happy memory," said Harry. "The strongest one you have. And then the incantation is Expecto Patronum."

"Expecto Patronum and a happy memory," Gryffindor repeated. "It is simpler than I expected."

"Maybe that was our problem," said Slytherin. "We made it unnecessarily complicated." He drew his wand. "Let us see what we can do."

Four wands were raised.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Four clouds of silver vapour shot into the air. Ravenclaw tilted her head to one side.

"Fascinating. Is it supposed to have a distinct shape?"

Harry nodded. "This will hold a Dementor off, but it won't drive it away." He hesitated.

"Go on," said Hufflepuff gently. "You are the expert here."

"Then try using a different memory. That worked for me. And really concentrate on it."

"It isn't an easy spell," Hermione added. "It took me several attempts to even get that."

Ron glanced at Harry. "Would it help if you showed yours?"

Harry hesitated, but Gryffindor was nodding. "It cannot hurt."

Harry nodded. Summoning the memory of all his friends triumphing at the last DA session, he raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

The brilliant silver stag erupted from the tip of his wand. Harry watched fondly as it galloped round the room, before dissolving into mist.

"Incredible," Hufflepuff breathed.

"I can see why it is so effective," said Slytherin softly.

Ravencaw's eyes narrowed in thought. "Fascinating. Did you choose the form?"

Harry shook his head. "It seems to be something important to you." He smiled. "My dad's Animagus form was a stag."

Slytherin nodded slowly. "He continues to protect you."

"Yeah," said Harry quietly. There was silence for a minute, then he shook himself. "Did that help?"

"It did," said Gryffindor. "It is always useful to see what you should be aiming for." He smiled. "And I think I have a better memory now."

Ravenclaw glanced at him. "Is that so?"

Gryffindor's smile widened. "Let us find out. Expecto Patronum."

Honestly, Harry was expecting more mist. After all, it had taken him months to progress beyond that point. Even Hermione had taken a good couple of hours to perfect it.

But the enormous silver griffin that burst into the air demonstrated exactly how Gryffindor had earned his reputation as one of the greatest Charms Masters of all time.

Hufflepuff broke into a round of applause.

"Well done, Godric!"

A brilliant smile touched Ravenclaw's lips. "Perfect."

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Typical." But there was no mistaking the pride in his eyes.

Gryffindor's eyes were wide as they tracked the progress of the griffin through the air. "Thank you."

Harry finally recovered the power of speech. "That...that's it. You got it."

Gryffindor tore his gaze from his Patronus to beam at Harry. "Thanks to you."

"It was nothing," Harry mumbled.

"How did you do it so quickly?" Ron demanded. "It took us hours."

Gryffindor gave a slight shrug. "We are more accustomed to challenging spells." His eyes returned to the griffin as if drawn there, and Harry had to smile at the wonder on his face. "Although this...this is something else."

There was a brief pause while they watched the griffin play. Gryffindor seemed in no hurry to let it dissipate, not that Harry could blame him. After a minute though, Gryffindor turned to Ravenclaw.

"I believe it is your turn." There was a definite challenge to the twinkle in his eyes. Ravenclaw merely raised an eyebrow.

"Why, so it is."

A moment later, a hippogriff joined the griffin. Ravenclaw gave it an approving nod.

"Good."

Gryffindor laughed, and pulled her into his arms. "It is beautiful."

Hufflepuff nodded her agreement. "And I think I see what you meant when you said that the form depends on the person."

Harry nodded his agreement. The hippogriff, intelligent and proud, suited Ravenclaw just as well as the fierce, noble griffin suited Gryffindor. He was growing steadily more curious as to what Hufflepuff and Slytherin's would be. Slytherin caught his eye and smiled at Hufflepuff.

"And so the pressure mounts."

Hufflepuff laughed. "We will try not to disappoint." She raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum."

Hermione shook her head. "How are you all doing this?"

Hufflepuff's eyes never left her shining winged horse. "I do not know. The fact that our magic is more mature is probably a contributing factor."

Ravenclaw squeezed her hand. "I expect so. It is perfect."

Slytherin nodded, his gaze flickering from the trio of creatures to Hufflepuff. "It suits you."

"Thank you."

Ron leaned over to Harry. "Want to bet that Slytherin gets his on the next try too?"

Harry snorted. "I'll pass." As would every sane person after the last few minutes. Although Slytherin didn't seem to be in any hurry. He was staring at his friends' Patronuses, and there was a distinct frown on his face. Gryffindor crossed over to stand next to him.

"Is everything all right?" he asked quietly.

"I am fine," Slytherin replied. "I just need a moment longer."

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know why it was taking him so long to find a suitable memory. Somehow, he doubted it was from an overabundance of choice. The compassion in Gryffindor's face confirmed his suspicions, and he couldn't help taking a step closer.

"I usually end up thinking of people," he said quietly. He threw a quick, pointed look at Ron and Hermione, and had the satisfaction of seeing Slytherin's eyes widen.

"I see." Gryffindor shot Harry a grateful smile while Slytherin took a deep breath. "Expecto Patronum."

Harry had a brief flash of concern, but all doubts were erased as a brilliant silver creature erupted from Slytherin's wand and shot off into the air.

"What is that?" Hermione gasped.

Ron shook his head in confusion, but Harry had recognised it immediately. "A thestral."

Ron's mouth fell open. "A thestral?"

Harry shrugged. "What? You heard Hagrid, they're not evil. Just misunderstood."

And wasn't that appropriate?

Gryffindor clapped his friend on the back. "Well done!"

A small, but completely genuine smile spread across Slytherin's face as he watched his thestral fly with the others. "Thank you."

Hufflepuff took his hand. "I like it," she said quietly.

Hermione nodded. "It does make sense."

Slytherin smiled at the two of them. "I agree."

"So that's it then," said Ron. "We can all do it."

Slytherin frowned. "Yes, but I expect it will be very different when actually confronted by a Dementor."

Harry shuddered. "It is." But there was a way around that. "I know how we can practice it properly."

"We are not going looking for a Dementor," said Gryffindor sharply.

"We wouldn't have to," said Harry quickly. "Do any of you know where we could find a Boggart?"

Hufflepuff eyed him warily. "Why would we need a Boggart?"

"Because my Boggart is a Dementor," Harry explained. "We can practice on that."

Gryffindor nodded slowly. "That could work. We all know how to handle a Boggart."

"That does not mean we enjoy doing so," Slytherin muttered. Harry frowned at him, but his irritation died at the genuine unease in his eyes.

"What is it?"

Slytherin looked away. "I find there is very little difference between Dementors and Boggarts."

"But we can control a Boggart," Gryffindor pointed out. "Is it not better to practice now, rather than when faced with Dementors again?"

Slytherin said nothing, but the tension was visible in the set of his shoulders. Hufflepuff squeezed his hand.

"We can manage Boggarts," she said softly. "And it is better than the alternative."

Slytherin let out a long breath. "I agree, even if I do not like it."

"None of us do, but it seems to be the only way we can practice properly."

"It's how I learned," Harry offered. "And it's probably the only reason I managed to do it when Dementors actually came."

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "And that reminds me, how did you come to be fighting Dementors?"

Harry winced as every eye turned to him. "Long story. We were all fine."

"Eventually," Ron muttered, then shrugged when Harry glared at him. Gryffindor looked sorely tempted to inquire further, but Harry didn't give him a chance.

"So how are we going to find a Boggart?"

"I have spoken to Hogwarts," said Ravenclaw. "She is searching for one as we speak. It should not take long."

Harry blinked. "That makes things easier."

There were nods of agreement from all but Slytherin, whose face twisted into a grimace. Evidently he still was not convinced as to the wisdom of this course of action. Harry tried to think of something to distract him, but Hermione had already moved to stand next to him.

"Professor," she said, "I was wondering if I could ask you something about the wards."

Slytherin blinked at her. "Certainly."

"Well, I've read a few books on Warding back home, and most of them said it's almost impossible to ward such a huge area as thoroughly as this."

A ghost of a smile touched Slytherin's lips. "Everyone here thought the same thing."

"But how did you do it?"

"I had to be creative. How familiar are you with the basic principles of Warding?"

"I've read some books," Hermione said, "but Professor Babbling said we couldn't start looking at it in detail until the middle of next year."

Gryffindor sighed as Slytherin's eyes lit up. "Why do I suspect we will not hear anything else out of them for the rest of the day?"

"Because you know Salazar," said Hufflepuff dryly.

"And we know Hermione," Ron added with a grin. "She's been reading up on Warding for months."

"It is a fascinating area," said Ravenclaw. "And Salazar is one of the best."

"Do you know much about Warding?" asked Harry.

"A little, but it is not my area of expertise. I much prefer the study of spells."

"Including creating them?" asked Ron.

"Indeed. For the moment though, I am more interested in this Patronus Charm of yours."

Ron nodded to Harry. "Harry's the expert at that."

"Hardly," Harry muttered. "I just read up on it a bit." It had seemed the logical thing to do considering he depended on it so much, but the gleam that entered Ravenclaw's eyes made him wonder if it had been a good idea. Gryffindor clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good luck," he murmured. He turned to Ron and raised his voice. "We have been wondering how Hogwarts has changed in a thousand years. I know you can't give details away, but a comparison of certain matters would be interesting."

Ron was only too glad to join him and Hufflepuff, leaving Harry to describe the Patronus Charm as best he could. Ravenclaw listened intently, asking so many questions that Harry was left foundering more often than not, but she never seemed to mind.

"I'm afraid I don't know," he said, when Ravenclaw asked him how the form was created. "Other than that it reflects the person's personality. A couple of books mentioned that people who are closer to each other will have more similar Patronuses.

Ravenclaw nodded. "I see. That would explain why Helga and Salazar had such similar creatures."

Harry couldn't resist pointing out the obvious. "And you and Professor Gryffindor."

A very faint blush tinged Ravenclaw's cheeks. "We have known each other for a very long time."

Harry was very careful to hide his smile. "That makes sense. How long has it been?"

"We were eight when we first met," she said. "Our mothers were friends, but we lived a considerable distance apart."

"That is a long time," Harry admitted. "So when did you meet Professors Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

Ravenclaw considered. "Godric returned from his travels with Salazar when he was twenty-two. Salazar met Helga just over a year later, and brought her to visit. We have been close ever since." She smiled. "Five years later, Helga told us of her dream for a magical school, and the rest is history. Or will be."

"What did you do in the meantime?" asked Harry.

"We studied. Experimented. Offered our assistance where it was needed. Our reputations grew at a remarkable rate, and it was not long before wizards were sending their children to apprentice under us. That was when Helga suggested founding a school; we all enjoyed teaching, but we simply did not have the resources to manage the numbers of students that wanted to learn from us." She glanced at him. "Are there not records of our lives before Hogwarts?"

Harry shook his head. "We hardly have anything about you as people," he said. "A lot of records were lost; Hermione could probably tell you how. All we know is the basics, such as Professor Gryffindor being a great duellist and you designing the moving staircases."

Ravenclaw smiled. "That is one of my greater achievements." Her smile faded. "Although it seems that even some of that information was not entirely accurate."

Both of them looked over to where Slytherin and Hermione were deep in conversation. Harry sighed.

"No. Some of it seems to be completely wrong."

Ravenclaw's jaw tightened. "I do wish I knew how that had happened."

"So do I," Harry muttered. "That's something we need to fix."

"Thank you. He does not deserve this." She gave a rueful smile. "Look at me. I once would never have dreamed of defending him."

Harry stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"We did not always have the best relationship," Ravenclaw admitted.

"That would be an understatement," Gryffindor remarked from behind them. "When I first introduced them, it was all I could do to keep them from cursing each other."

"We were not that bad," Ravenclaw murmured.

Gryffindor snorted. "Yes, you were."

"What happened?" asked Ron.

"We came to an understanding," said Ravenclaw stiffly.

"She means that they stopped insulting each other long enough to see how much they have in common," Gryffindor added cheerfully. His grin only widened at the glare Ravenclaw directed his way.

"Of course, you are forgetting one crucial part of the incident," Slytherin called across to them.

"What happened?" asked Harry eagerly.

Slytherin smirked. "Someone went and got himself poisoned."

"I did not do it on purpose!"

"We know."

"Good."

"You just did not look where you were going."

Gryffindor scowled at him, while Harry and Ron tried to hide smiles. "It was the one time! And do I need to remind you that you have done equally foolhardy things?"

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Godric..."

"Oh yes, that was an accident, was it not?"

"Well, you know all about accidents."

Harry shot a mystified look at Ron, but Ravenclaw just rolled her eyes. "Ignore them, Harry. If they were to tell you all the trouble they have gotten themselves into, you would be here for a year."

"If not longer," Hufflepuff murmured.

It was telling to Harry that neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin tried to protest that statement. He was about to question them further when all four Founders tensed.

"What is it?" he asked. They couldn't be in danger here, could they? Gryffindor glanced at him and shook his head.

"It is nothing to worry about," he assured them. "Hogwarts was just informing us that there is a Boggart in one of the fourth floor classrooms."

All levity had drained from Slytherin's face. "Wonderful."

"Salazar," said Hufflepuff gently.

"I know." He sighed. "We had best get on with this then."

Hufflepuff shot him an uneasy look, but Gryffindor touched her arm. "Go on. Leave this to me," he murmured.

Hufflepuff nodded and turned to Harry. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Then we will be on our way," said Ravenclaw.

Harry couldn't keep a frown from his face as he followed Hufflepuff through the castle. He knew Boggarts were unpleasant, but they were the best way of training to fight Dementors that he knew. Unpleasant they might be, but Dementors were far worse. So why were the Founders so wary of the idea? Ron glanced at him.

"It'll be fine, mate. We can all handle Boggarts."

Harry nodded, but the expression on Slytherin's face was difficult to forget. He wanted to talk to his teacher, but a quick look over his shoulder showed that Gryffindor and Slytherin were deep in conversation at the back of the group. Neither looked particularly happy.

"Try not to worry about it, Harry."

Harry looked up into Hufflepuff's deep blue eyes. "I'm sorry?"

She gave a small smile. "We may not like it, but we do know that this is the only way to do this."

Harry couldn't help glancing back again. "Do you?"

"We do," said Hufflepuff gently. "All of us."

"But Slytherin-"

"Has good reason to be wary," she interrupted. "But he too understands. And he trusts you."

Harry's mouth fell open. "He trusts me?"

"Of course. And he is not the only one."

The warmth that spread through Harry's chest at those words left him in no doubt as to his ability to produce a Patronus. "Thank you."

"It is I who should be thanking you. Dementors have been a trial to us for many years now."

"It was the least we could do," Harry mumbled.

Hufflepuff just smiled. "It is still to be appreciated."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, and ducked his head in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. The twitch of Hufflepuff's lips told him he had not been entirely successful, but she was too kind to point it out.

Fortunately, it was only a minute or so later that they arrived at the classroom containing the Boggart. Harry reached for the door, only to find Gryffindor suddenly in front of him.

"Allow me." His wand was already in his hand, and his jaw set. Harry blinked. It still felt strange to know that there were other people so willing to face danger first. A slight smile touched his lips as he followed Gryffindor through the door.

There was nothing remarkable about the room they entered; it was simply a regular classroom. Ron frowned.

"So where's this Boggart then?"

As if on cue, a chest in the corner of the room shook violently.

"At a guess, I would say over there," said Slytherin dryly. Harry glanced over at him; his voice had been quite calm, but he had yet to move from the doorway, and his eyes were locked on the chest. Gryffindor coughed loudly.

"What would be the best way to do this, Harry?"

Harry tore his gaze from Slytherin. "I'm not sure. I'll need to be closest if we want it to turn into a Dementor."

"Will you be all right?" asked Hufflepuff.

Harry grimaced. "I'll be fine. If it does get too bad, I'll get rid of it."

"Make sure you do," said Hermione. "We know you."

"And we know how to get rid of Boggarts too," Ron finished.

Harry scowled, but he couldn't help but be touched by their determination. "Fine." He looked round. "Does anyone want to go first?"

Gryffindor stepped forwards. "I will."

Somehow, Harry wasn't surprised in the slightest. "All right. Everyone else should probably stay back." He moved closer to the chest and glanced back. Gryffindor stood in the centre of the room, his wand raised, and his face a mask of determination. He looked at Harry.

"Ready?"

Harry nodded. "Whenever you are."

Gryffindor took a final deep breath and flicked his wand. Slowly, the lid of the chest rose.

Harry had been prepared for it, but the sudden chill still took him by surprise. His fists clenched as screams began to ring in his ears, but for some reason the sensation was fainter than usual. Harry didn't understand; normally he was the one most badly affected by Dementors. This time though, the memories running through his head were so faint it was like he was only an afterthought. The thought woke him from his daze, and he spun round to check on Gryffindor.

The Founder stood as if frozen. His eyes were locked on the Dementor, and Harry felt a rush of concern at the genuine horror in his face. His wand had fallen to his side, and his skin was ashen beneath his tan.

Dementors fed on the worst memories, and darkest emotions. They would deliberately search for those who had experienced the worst horrors.

Harry felt something old settle in the pit of his stomach, even as he scrambled desperately for his wand. He would not let this continue. He struggled to summon a happy memory, just as Gryffindor let out a low moan.

"Godric!"

Ravenclaw's cry broke the silence. Harry flinched at the pain in her voice; surely the distraction was the last thing Gryffindor needed right now.

But Gryffindor's head snapped up as the sound rang through the air, and his green eyes were blazing.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The griffin that burst from his wand was so bright that Harry had to shield his eyes. Whatever thought Gryffindor had used, it was a powerful one. The Dementor was thrown violently back into the chest, and Harry sprang forward and slammed the lid shut.

"Perfect, sir."

Gryffindor's wand trembled as he lowered it, but he gave a small smile. "Thank you."

"Godric!" Ravenclaw was the first to break from the group to join them. "Are you all right?"

The tension seemed to drain from Gryffindor's body as he took her into his arms. "I am well."

"Are you sure?"

Gryffindor smiled. "Certain."

His words seemed to reassure the others, who quickly crossed to join them, all adding their congratulations. Even Slytherin moved fully into the room. He didn't say anything, just tilted his head to one side, but Gryffindor's smile widened slightly and he nodded. Neither spoke, but the lines in Slytherin's face seemed to ease. Harry watched the display with interest, but barely a second later, Gryffindor had turned to Ron, who was eagerly exclaiming how cool that had been.

"It was certainly effective," he agreed. He glanced at Harry. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded. "It wasn't as bad as I was expecting." Hermione and Ron looked pleased, but Gryffindor just nodded.

"Good."

Harry shot him a sharp look. It seemed that Gryffindor knew exactly what was going on, and from the expressions on the other Founders' faces, so did they. The thought made his fists clench, but they had no choice. He dug his hands deep into his pockets, a scowl crossing his face. This was essential, yes, but it was not going to be pleasant.

Sure enough, though both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw succeeded in driving the Boggart back, the effort took its toll. Not on Harry, but all three Founders were very pale by the time they finished. Even Slytherin, who had yet to face the Boggart, grew steadily more tense as the morning progressed.

"Something's going on," Hermione murmured.

Ron shot her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"Look at them."

"It's a Dementor; what do you expect?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know, but then why isn't Harry affected?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably as both of them turned to him. "What? I'm fine."

Hermione jabbed a finger at him. "Exactly! You always looked terrible after lessons with Professor Lupin, but you seem fine now."

Harry looked away. "Maybe I've gotten used to it."

"No one gets used to Dementors, mate," Ron pointed out. "What's going on?"

"It feels fainter," said Harry quietly. "It's like it's not interested in me."

"Then what is it interested in?"

Hermione drew in a sharp breath. "You mean..."

Understanding lit Ron's eyes. "Oh."

Harry sighed. "Yeah." He glanced over at the adults. "And it isn't over yet."

Hermione bit her lip. "Slytherin had the most trouble creating a Patronus."

"And was the most apprehensive about using a Boggart," Harry finished.

They exchanged uneasy looks. It had been bad enough watching the others. If they were right...

As if sensing their thoughts, Hufflepuff crossed over to join them.

"We were wondering if you wanted to get something to eat," she said. "It is getting late, and we have been busy."

Harry recognised her suggestion for what it was, and nodded. "Ron's stomach's been rumbling for the past half hour."

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true. I'd like to stay for a bit though."

Hufflepuff gave him a warm smile. "Thank you."

Hermione glanced at them. "All right. We'll see you later then, Harry."

Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, mate."

Harry watched while Hufflepuff exchanged a few final words with Gryffindor and Slytherin. He was glad for Slytherin's sake that there wouldn't be an audience, but that did little to diminish his apprehension. If they were taking these steps, they must be expecting it to be more serious than he had realised.

"Harry?"

Harry looked round to find that everyone save Slytherin and Gryffindor had left the room. Gryffindor's presence didn't surprise him; he knew that the support would be needed.

"Is everything all right?" he asked quietly.

Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged a look.

"We are not sure," said Gryffindor.

That did nothing to help Harry's doubts. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Slytherin sighed. "What choice do we have?"

Harry didn't answer. There wasn't anything he could say.

"We will do this," said Gryffindor. "We can manage the Boggart if it does get too much."

Slytherin's face twisted into a grimace. "Thank you."

Gryffindor shot him a sharp look. "Stop it," he muttered. "It is nothing to be ashamed of."

Slytherin did not appear convinced, and Harry felt a rush of sympathy. He knew what it was like to be more badly affected than anyone else. As much as everyone had said they understood, none of them had really had a clue. He wanted to say as much, but at that moment, Slytherin sighed again and squared his shoulders.

"Let's just get this over with."

Harry knew better than to argue. "All right."

There were no smiles, no signs of humour at all as the three of them took their places. Harry was careful to stand a good distance in front of Slytherin; he had no intention of risking the Boggart changing into anyone else's fears. He glanced round at them.

"Are you ready?"

Slytherin nodded. He was very pale, but his eyes gleamed with determination. "Yes."

Gryffindor had taken a position at Slytherin's shoulder, and he too looked very grim. "Go."

The lid of the chest rose. The Dementor emerged.

The effect on Slytherin was immediate. His entire body tensed, and the little colour remaining in his face drained away. Harry took an involuntary step in his direction, only for Gryffindor to hold up a hand.

"Do not move, Harry!"

Harry froze, stunned by what he might have done, but a low hiss woke him from his shock. "Sir!"

Slytherin was shaking from head to foot, his eyes wide and unseeing. His wand was in his hand, but it seemed like he had forgotten it completely. Gryffindor gripped his shoulder.

"You can do this," he called. "Just think of a happy memory. Anything. Salazar-"

But whatever he was about to say was lost as the Dementor seemed to pause. For a moment, it seemed to stare at Slytherin.

And then it changed.

Harry had seen other people's Boggarts before, but never had he seen anything like this. It wasn't a spider, or a snake, or anything any of his classmates had feared. This... this was much worse.

It was a fire, but not the comforting fire of the Gryffindor common room, or even a fun one like those on Bonfire Night. This was an inferno. Stacks of wood piled up until they were above his head, and heat so intense that he had to back away. Already he could feel his face burning. But that wasn't the worst part. Harry looked up, and it took all his willpower not to be sick.

Embedded in the top of the wood were three tall poles. And bound to each pole was a person. Harry wanted to look away, but somehow couldn't tear his eyes from the horrifying sight. The people, two witches and one wizard, were already burning, and the screams that rang though the air were like nothing Harry had ever heard. And the smell... Nothing even came close. This was worse than the Cruciatus Curse, worse than anything Harry had ever seen. How could anybody endure this?

Little wonder then that he was shaking from head to foot. Slytherin's reticence to face a Boggart now made a horrifying amount of sense. The Founder staggered back, his mouth open in shock, until he tripped and fell to the floor.

"Salazar!"

Gryffindor was suddenly in front of him, his jaw set and wand raised. "Expecto Patronum!"

But he was not the only one to have spoken. Harry had recovered himself at the same moment, and together the stag and the griffin charged directly at the Dementor. It did not stand a chance, and the lid slammed shut upon it.

For a long second, they stood frozen, until the silence was broken by a shuddering gasp.

"Salazar!"

"Professor!"

Harry ran to his teacher's side, but fast as he was, Gryffindor was already there, his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Salazar, can you hear me?"

Any relief Harry might have felt with the Boggart's defeat vanished in an instant. Slytherin remained where he had fallen, his silver eyes staring into nothing, and an expression of pure terror on his face.

"Professor, what's happening?"

"He's remembering," Gryffindor hissed. "Damn." He took Slytherin's hands. "Listen to me, Sal, it's not real! You're not there!"

Harry didn't know what was going on, but he didn't need details. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just stay back. In this state, he's likely to hurt anyone he doesn't recognise."

Harry crouched next to them, being careful to keep a safe distance. "Why did it change?" he demanded. "I was closest too it; why did it change?"

"Salazar's fear must have been too great," said Gryffindor. His tone was curt, all his attention on trying to restrain his friend. "Damn it Salazar, come back!"

Slytherin just gave a low moan, then his jaws clenched shut and his back arched. Gryffindor swore under his breath.

"Hurry, Helga."

"I can go-"

"No, she's on her way."

Hogwarts, Harry realised, and sure enough, Hufflepuff appeared a bare second later. Her face drained of colour as her eyes fell on Slytherin.

"Salazar!"

"He's remembering," Gryffindor told her. "I cannot break it."

Hufflepuff knelt next to him, and placed her hands on either side of Slytherin's face. Gryffindor glanced at Harry. "It might be better if you left," he said. "We will need to concentrate."

Harry nodded and rose to his feet. "Good luck."

Neither of them looked up as he left. Harry didn't take offense; their preoccupation was more than understandable. In their position, he suspected he would act the same way, if not worse. He shuddered at the thought. If something ever happened to Ron or Hermione... Yes, he could understand Gryffindor and Hufflepuff all too well.

As he wandered down to the Great Hall, Harry had to fight to keep the guilt from overwhelming him. It had been his suggestion to use the Boggart, his fault that Slytherin had had to relive something so horrific. He knew that they had no choice, that it was better than facing the real thing, but his heart wasn't listening to logic. No one could have failed to be moved by the genuine terror on Slytherin's face.

Harry forced the thoughts away. There was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was hope that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff could do what he could not.

The moment he set foot in the Great Hall, Harry was bombarded with questions by Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, what's going on?"

"Hufflepuff just disappeared."

"And Ravenclaw won't tell us what's going on!"

Harry held up his hands. "Stop it!"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

Harry shook his head. "The Boggart changed. It was," the flames blazed up again in his mind, "it was horrible."

"It would be."

Harry looked up to find that Ravenclaw had crossed the room to join them. Her face was very pale, but she met his gaze steadily. Any frustration died away, leaving only concern in its place.

"Professor, what's going on?"

Ravenclaw let out a long sigh. "Is it not clear?"

"I knew he had bad memories," said Harry quietly. "But nothing like that."

"What was it?" Ron asked.

Harry shivered. "There were people... people burning." Hermione drew in a sharp breath, but he didn't stop. "I thought I recognised one of them, but..." He broke off shaking his head.

"That's his worst fear?" Ron croaked.

"Witch burnings," Hermione gasped. "Then..." Horror filled eyes turned to Ravenclaw, who nodded slowly.

"He can face many things, but not that," she said softly.

Harry's fists clenched. "I should never have suggested a Boggart."

"Don't be stupid," Ron snapped. "Even this is better than being killed, or worse, by a real Dementor."

"He is right," said Ravenclaw. "And Salazar knew the risks, and agreed with the assessment. You have nothing to blame yourself for."

Slytherin's shaking body flashed before Harry's eyes. "Right."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Harry, this wasn't your fault."

"I suggested it!"

"And we all supported it," Ravenclaw pointed out. "If anything, we are to blame." Her lips twitched slightly. "Of course, Salazar will disagree with both assessments."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

"He will blame himself," she said simply. "As he always does." She rubbed her eyes. "No matter the circumstances."

Harry scowled. "He shouldn't."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you really one to talk?"

Harry ignored that. "We don't even know if he'll be all right."

"He will," said Ravenclaw. "I have no doubt of that."

"But how can you be so sure?"

Ravenclaw just looked at him. Do you really think this is the first time this has happened? Helga will ensure he recovers."

That didn't do nearly as much as it should have to lift Harry's spirits. "I hope so."

Ravenclaw turned away. "So do I."

Harry glanced at her. The words were faint, almost inaudible, and for the first time he remembered that while he cared for Slytherin as a teacher, Ravenclaw had been his close friend for many years. Guilt rose up again.

"Are you all right?"

She gave him a small smile. "I am fine."

Hermione bit her lip. "We will be fine, if you want to go," she suggested tentatively.

Ravenclaw hesitated for only a second before shaking her head, but that was more than enough to convey her wish.

"We can manage," he said. "He needs you more."

"Are you sure?"

"We'll practice our Duelling or something," Harry assured her. "We won't be bored."

Ravenclaw held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Very well. We will find you when the situation has been resolved." She paused a moment, her dark eyes softening. "Thank you."

"It's where any of us would want to be," said Hermione quietly.

A more genuine smile touched Ravenclaw's lips. "Quite right." She nodded to the three of them, and swept from the room.

Harry let out a long sigh and leaned against the wall. "What a bloody mess."

"He'll be fine," said Ron bracingly. "They're all there, and Hufflepuff was said to be one of the greatest healers of history. She'll sort it out."

"I hope so," Harry whispered.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Was it the Dementor?"

Harry grimaced. "Partly. He reacted even worse than I usually do."

Ron shuddered. "No wonder they're all worried. But what was that about the Boggart changing?"

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "One minute it was a Dementor, the next it was... something else."

"But why did it change? You were the still closest, right?"

Harry shook his head. "I didn't move. It just changed." He glanced at Hermione. "Is that possible?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I don't know. Some books say that the Boggart can act a bit like a Dementor, in that it can search out the person with the most fear."

"Gryffindor said much the same," said Harry quietly. "However it did it, it was bad." The image of Slytherin falling to the floor in such pain would haunt him for some time.

There was silence for several minutes before Harry shook his head.

"Well, there's no point just standing around. We might as well do something useful."

"Duelling?" asked Ron eagerly.

"Why not?"

Hermione sighed. "I suppose we might as well make the most of the time." She flicked her wand at Ron. "Expelliarmus!"

"That's not fair!" Ron yelled, as his wand went flying.

Hermione smirked at him. "What was it Gryffindor said? Always take an opportunity."

Harry nodded. "She has a point. Expelliarmus!"

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

For the first time in several hours, Harry grinned. "What? Aren't we supposed to use the element of surprise?" Slytherin was particularly fond of reminding them of it, usually by hexing them at random intervals. Annoying it might be, but their reactions had improved considerably. The thought made his smile widen, until he remembered the man's current situation.

"Harry?"

Harry shook himself. "I'm fine." Or he would be. Hopefully.

They continued to practice, but Harry's heart wasn't in it. His mind kept wandering to the events of the day. Was Slytherin all right? Had the other Founders managed to help him? So many questions, and no way of getting the answers.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked finally.

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"Because we've disarmed you more times in the past couple of hours than we have in two years," said Ron. "Come on, we know you're worried."

Harry sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Just a bit."

Hermione touched his arm. "He will be fine, Harry. Professor Ravenclaw said so."

"I know."

The looks he received told him that neither of them were convinced, but they seemed to know better than to argue.

"Other than that, it's gone pretty well," said Ron cheerfully.

Harry shrugged. "It was all right, I suppose."

"All right? You taught the Founders the Patronus Charm!"

Harry looked down. "Not all of them."

Ron waved the distinction away. "He did it, didn't he? He just needs to practice."

"You struggled at first too," Hermione reminded him. "And now yours is easily the strongest one."

"Maybe," Harry admitted. "But it isn't going to be easy."

"Was it easy for you?"

"No," said Harry quietly. "Which is why I don't want anyone else to have to do it."

"But now he won't be tormented by Dementors," Ron pointed out. "I think he'd prefer that."

"Indeed I do."

All three spun round.

"Professor!"

"Are you all right?" Harry demanded.

He didn't look well. His normally pale skin was bone grey, and he leaned heavily on his staff, but the deep lines of his face seemed to soften at their concern.

"I assure you, I am quite well." Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, and saw that they believed that statement about as much as he did. A ghost of a smile touched Slytherin's lips.

"I shall be quite well," he amended. His smile faded. "Harry, may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick look.

"We'll see you in a bit, Harry."

Harry waited until they had gone before turning to Slytherin properly. "Are you sure you're all right?"

There was a long silence, but eventually Slytherin sighed. "I will be."

Harry knew that was as much as he was going to get. "Well, if there's anything I can do..."

"There is one thing."

"Name it."

Slytherin looked him straight in the eye. "I need you to help me practice again."

"No." The answer came before Slytherin had even finished speaking. "No, I can't-"

"Harry, I must learn this."

"But what if this happens again?" Harry demanded. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Godric, Helga and Rowena all know what to do."

"That's another thing, what makes you think they'll agree to it?"

"It is not their decision to make," said Slytherin sharply. "And even if it was, they would not argue."

"How can you be so sure?"

Slytherin continued to meet his gaze steadily. "Because they know that a Dementor is many times worse than a Boggart could ever be. I might be able to flee from a Boggart, but a Dementor?" He shook his head. "I must be able to drive them away."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "You know the spell."

"Yet I cannot perform it in the actual situation. This is not acceptable." His voice softened slightly. "I know you understand."

Harry did. After all, it was the same reason he had pleaded for lessons from Lupin. Slytherin laid a hand on his shoulder. "I understand that this experience was not pleasant, and I am sorry to have to ask you to repeat it, but I have to do this."

Harry wanted to argue. He really didn't want to have to see that again. But there was no way he could deny Slytherin this, not when he understood so well.

"I'll think about it," he said quietly.

Some of the tension left Slytherin's shoulders. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet," Harry muttered. "You'll be regretting it before long."

"Not if it allows me to combat Dementors," said Slytherin quietly. "I can assure you of that."

Harry glanced at him. "It isn't going to be easy."

"I will do it."

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Are you really sure?" He suspected he was being annoying, but this was no light undertaking.

There was absolutely no humour in the smile Slytherin gave him. "If that was my worst fear, what do you think my worst memory is?"

Harry froze. That couldn't be. That was just too much. Slytherin sighed.

"I have to learn this."

Harry nodded slowly. "I'll help you."

Genuine relief lit Slytherin's eyes. "Thank you."

It wouldn't be easy, but if anyone knew how bad Dementors could be it was Harry. Back home, no one had understood. Now there was someone who did.

Harry had no intention of letting it continue.

Chapter 12: Shadow's Edge

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

As usual, the attack came without warning.

"Legilimens."

Harry set his teeth against the sudden rush of memories. Keep calm, he told himself, and concentrate.

This was so much easier now that it didn't hurt.

There was the mental equivalent of a flick in the forehead.

Harry.

Harry forced his mind away from thoughts of early lessons and towards his new ones. A random memory. He quickly thought of his first week at Hogwarts, and the number of times he had gotten lost, and concentrated solely on the dead ends and false passages. He remembered how it felt to look and not find what he was looking for, no matter how hard he tried. For a brief moment, he felt a flicker of satisfaction.

Then Voldemort appeared in the middle of the corridor.

Harry jerked away instinctively, and that was all it took. The memories rushed in again, spiraling out of his control. His parents' deaths, Quirrell, Riddle in the Chamber...

But Harry wasn't finished yet. For once, he wasn't going to lose focus straight away. He ignored the memories spinning in front of him, and remembered the last time he had actually seen Voldemort.

The graveyard. Cedric. The duel. Fighting, and running, and knowing it was useless, but having no other choice...

And then the memories were gone, and Harry found himself standing in Slytherin's office. He was gasping for breath, but he couldn't prevent the grin from spreading across his face. Slytherin's eyes narrowed.

"That was not what we discussed."

"It worked," Harry protested.

"Only because it was me. Anyone else-"

"I know," said Harry quickly. "They wouldn't care." But his grin widened. The fact that Slytherin did care meant more to him than the lessons. As if sensing his emotions, Slytherin's glare softened.

"You did do well to maintain your concentration. You are making excellent progress."

Harry smiled. "It helps to have a decent teacher."

"Indeed." He tilted his head to one side. "Are you all right?"

Harry's smile faded. Using memories of the graveyard had distracted Slytherin from his attack, but the memories had only been effective because they were so unpleasant. Slytherin's wards had kept the nightmares away for the past few weeks, and there had been so much going on that he hadn't had time to dwell on them. To have relived them so suddenly was a bit of a shock.

"Harry?"

"I'm fine," said Harry quietly. Slytherin just looked at him, and he sighed. "I can deal with it."

"I know you can," Slytherin replied. "That does not mean you have to."

Harry paused. He kept forgetting that. Slytherin's lips set. "Is there no one in your time you trust?"

Harry twitched. "I trust Ron and Hermione."

"Apart from them. Are there any competent adults?"

"My godfather, Sirius," said Harry. "He'd do anything to protect me. And there's Dumbledore."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "You trust him?"

Harry hesitated. Even a couple of weeks ago, he would have agreed without hesitation, but after learning about the prophecy, and the Horcrux... "I don't know. I need to talk to him."

"That would be best," Slytherin agreed. "He may have had an explanation."

Harry snorted softly. "It'll have to be some explanation."

"Indeed." He didn't elaborate, and Harry knew from past discussions that he was about as happy with Dumbledore as Harry was. He didn't have time to brood further on it though, as Slytherin abruptly changed the subject.

"In the meantime, I still need to practice the Patronus Charm."

Harry hid a grimace with an effort. It had been a week since the disastrous lessons, and despite Slytherin's request for more, Harry was in no hurry to oblige him. He knew it was important, that Slytherin needed to be able to face Dementors, but the last incident had not been what one would call encouraging. Unfortunately, since Harry was the only one who could turn the Boggart into a Dementor for them to practice on, he had no choice but to be involved.

"I know," he muttered.

Slytherin sighed. "I know it is difficult, Harry. But I cannot put others at risk through my own failure."

Harry now knew exactly how Lupin had felt. "All right."

"Thank you. We can continue with those this evening." His face twisted slightly into a scowl. "Godric and Helga are insisting on being present."

"Good." Harry knew he wouldn't be able to cope with the consequences, and he had no intention of trying.

Slytherin nodded ruefully. "It is probably for the best." He hesitated a moment. "Are you sure you are happy to do this? I know it is a lot to ask."

"I was the same when I first learned," Harry assured him. "I know what it's like." He sighed. "I may not like it, but do get it. I'll do whatever I can to help."

"I appreciate it," said Slytherin softly.

Harry shrugged. "It's just what Lupin did for me." He gave a slight smile. "He's another adult I trust."

"I am glad to hear it." He stretched out his muscles, one hand going automatically to massage his leg. "Would you like to try again, or leave it at that for today?"

Harry hesitated. He wanted to leave it, but... "No, let's go again."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Harry?"

Harry dropped his gaze. "I need to get this right." His failure to learn Occlumency had already put his friends in danger once. He was not going to let it happen again. A hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

"You are already doing everything you can."

Harry glanced up. "How did you-"

"You have a tendency to brood on your mistakes," Slytherin pointed out. "Harry, working yourself to exhaustion will not do any good."

Harry gave a small smile. "I guess not."

Slytherin's grip tightened reassuringly for a brief moment before he dropped his hand. "I think we should get some air. We have been down here for some time."

Harry was all too happy to agree. Maybe some time away would make things easier. Slytherin always seemed to know what would help. He had to smile at the thought. Salazar Slytherin was the last person he ever thought would willingly help him. Not that he was complaining. Having someone who did have his well-being in mind was... nice.

Harry tilted his head back as they stepped out into the sunshine, the warm rays soothing away the headache that had begun to develop. He knew it wouldn't last; already there was a distinct chill to the wind. Soon it would start be winter.

"It'll be snowing soon," he murmured.

Slytherin pulled a face. "Wonderful."

"You don't like snow?"

"It's nice to look at," Slytherin allowed, "but it's too cold."

"Funny that," said Harry before he could stop himself.

Slytherin tapped him lightly on the leg with his staff. "Hush." There was no bite to his voice though. "And the cold brings its own complications."

Harry paused. He hadn't thought of that. "I'm sorry," he began, but Slytherin shook his head.

"I grew accustomed to it a long time ago. That does not mean I have to like it."

"How long has it been?" Harry asked.

For a long moment, he thought Slytherin wouldn't reply, but then some of the tension seemed to fade from his teacher's face. "I was eight," he said softly.

Harry's stomach twisted violently. "I'm sorry."

Slytherin inclined his head slightly. "It was a long time ago."

That just made it worse, but Harry didn't say anything. He had never liked pity, and he knew Slytherin well enough by now to know that he felt the same way.

Fortunately, he was spared from having to reply by the sight of a flying figure coming into view. "Who's that?"

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "A messenger."

Harry's heart quickened. "More trouble?"

"Possibly." His eyes unfocused for a moment, and Harry guessed he was calling the other Founders, before his attention returned to the messenger. "Yes, it is one of Hengist's boys. He has a broom for contacting us in emergencies."

"Good thinking."

"Indeed, though I pity whoever has to use it. A more uncomfortable mode of transport is difficult to imagine."

Harry grimaced at the thought. Maybe he could convince Hermione that Cushioning Charms were an essential piece of magic and get them invented eight hundred years early. Harry shook himself sharply; this was no time for distractions. He started slightly as Ravenclaw abruptly appeared next to them.

"Problems?"

"We do not know yet," Slytherin murmured.

Ravenclaw ignored him. "I thought they would take longer than this."

Slytherin sighed. "So did I."

Harry glanced at him. "You think it's the Order again?"

Slytherin scowled, but before he could confirm or deny the suggestion, there was a series of cracks, and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff arrived with Ron and Hermione in tow. All their faces were very grim.

"What's going on?" Ron asked. "Is it those wizards again?"

"We will find out in a moment," said Hufflepuff.

"Because that would be strange, wouldn't it? I mean, I thought they were going to wear us down with magical creatures, and surely they couldn't find more that quickly..."

"I don't think that's helping, Ron," Hermione murmured.

Ron's ears tinged pink, but Gryffindor shook his head. "He does make a good point. To attack so soon after the last one is highly unusual."

Slytherin nodded. "Finding Dark creatures would most likely not be a problem for them, but I would expect them to wait for us to lower our guard before trying again." His scowl darkened. "I must stop underestimating them."

"None of us would ever accuse you of that," said Hufflepuff quietly.

The look on Slytherin's face roused Harry's curiosity yet again, but before he could question it, the boy flew down and landed in front of them. He was out of breath, and there was genuine terror in his eyes. "Need help," he gasped. "Wizards... attacked us."

"How many?" Gryffindor asked.

"I saw six, but there may be more. Hengist told me to get here as quickly as possible."

Slytherin looked at Gryffindor. "We need to go."

"Agreed." He turned to the boy. "Stay here. We will deal with this."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who nodded, and looked at the Founders. "We want to come."

Gryffindor pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not a good idea."

"But we need to practice fighting Dark wizards," Harry protested. "Voldemort doesn't just use trolls you know."

Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged one of their wordless communications. And then Slytherin turned to them.

"You will not engage any enemy by yourselves. This is not negotiable," he said, when Harry opened his mouth to argue. "We do not have time to discuss it. If you do not agree, you will not be coming."

Harry didn't like it, but Slytherin was right. This was no time to argue. "Fine."

"We will keep them safe," said Gryffindor to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

"We know," Hufflepuff assured him. "Just be careful."

"One moment," said Ravenclaw. She took out her wand and muttered a quick spell.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"A translation spell. You will be well outside the Hogwarts wards, and you will need to be able to communicate with the others."

Gryffindor nodded approvingly. "Good thinking."

Slytherin held out his arm to Harry. "Time to go."

Any nausea Harry felt from the trip was forgotten the moment he opened his eyes. It took him a moment to recognise the main street of Hogsmeade, not because of the differences in architecture, but because of the dozens of screaming people running past them. "Merlin," he breathed.

Slytherin's lips thinned. "Damn." He turned to Gryffindor, who had just appeared next to them with Ron and Hermione. "Over there."

Harry whirled in the direction he had pointed. Six figures dressed in long dark robes were firing curses at helpless bystanders. Several bodies lay sprawled on the floor, and even as they watched, another wizard was blasted back through the air. He hit the floor with a yell and lay still.

Slytherin muttered something, and Disapparated. Harry's mouth fell open, but then Gryffindor was speaking. "Stay here. Defend yourselves if you are attacked, but do not try to engage them. We will manage this."

"Where did Slytherin," Ron began.

"He is preparing. Now, wait here."

"We will," Hermione promised.

Gryffindor smiled at them before he too Disapparated. A moment later, he appeared in the centre of the group, and chaos reigned.

Harry had thought Gryffindor's performance against the trolls impressive, but that was nothing compared to this. Two of the wizards were down before any of them even had time to turn, and the enemy spells went wide as Gryffindor immediately twisted out of reach. Every movement was perfectly planned and executed, and despite being outnumbered, Gryffindor easily held his own. In fact, he actually seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Incredible," Hermione whispered.

"I've never seen anyone duel like this," said Ron. "Not even Bill and Charlie when they..." His face suddenly drained of colour. "No!"

Harry's heart stopped. One of the wizards Gryffindor had felled was now rising unsteadily to his feet, his wand pointed straight at Gryffindor's back. Harry opened his mouth to yell, but already the wizard's arm was coming back to cast, his eyes blazing with fury.

Then the light died as he collapsed back to the floor. Harry had a brief glimpse of a dark figure behind him before it disappeared again.

"Was that-"

"Over there!" Ron gasped.

Harry stared. He couldn't do anything else. Gryffindor's rate of casting was so fast that it appeared he was performing dozens of spells. Far more than any one person possibly could. Harry concentrated. Yes. Now he could see it. While Gryffindor held the attention with his spectacular display, Slytherin took a more subtle approach. Even as he watched, one of the wizards abruptly tripped and stumbled back, right into the path of another curse. Harry just caught a glimpse of Slytherin's smirk before he Disapparated yet again.

"Look how well they work together."

"They must have trained for years," said Ron. "See how they're anticipating each other."

Harry could only nod. The two of them worked in perfect synchronisation; Gryffindor distracting them, and then casting the finishing blow when Slytherin caught them off guard.

"No wonder they were said to be the best," said Hermione. "How could anyone fight them?"

Harry shook his head. "They couldn't."

Indeed, it might be six against two, but there was no doubt as to who would be victorious. The wizards were falling back, their faces now betraying their uncertainty, and Gryffindor and Slytherin pressed their advantage. It was quite clear that they were not going to take long.

And then another scream rang through the air.

Harry whipped round. "Did you hear that?"

Hermione's face was white. "It sounded like – Harry, where are you going?"

Harry was sprinting in the direction of the screams. Gryffindor's instructions had been quite clear, but he couldn't just stand here and let a child be killed. He rounded a corner and saw it; a small boy, no older than five, was crouched against the wall. Standing over him, wearing smug grins, were two more wizards, wearing the same dark cloaks as the others.

Harry's wand was already in his hand.

"Stupefy!"

Unfortunately, it was rather harder to aim when running. The spell shot straight past its target and hit the wall. Harry followed it up with a Disarming Charm, but now the wizards were on their guard. One of them blocked the spell with ease, just as his partner fired off one of his own.

"Protego!"

The force of the spell sent him staggering back a step, but the boy's terrified expression was all the incentive Harry needed. "Reducto! Bombarda!"

"Stupefy!"

"Petrificus totalus!"

Ron and Hermione had joined him, and wasted no time in joining the assault. The wizards fell back under the barrage of spells, and Harry saw an opportunity. "Cover me."

"We've got it," said Ron grimly. "Expelliarmus!"

Harry bent over and began forwards. A spell exploded next to him, and Harry had to cover his eyes from a shower of dust, but he kept moving. The boy was curled into a ball, his hands over his head, and even from a distance Harry could see him shaking with terror. So far he seemed unhurt, but with all the spells being thrown around, such a state of affairs could not last long. Harry caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and threw himself to the ground, just as a spell shot over his head.

"Harry?"

"I'm fine," he yelled. He risked a glance up, and saw that Ron and Hermione had both taken cover in the shadow of houses, but their expressions were murderous, and they were casting even more furiously than before. Another quick look told him that their attackers were preoccupied, and Harry took the opportunity to pull himself to his feet and sprint the final distance to the child. He reached the cover of the wall just in front of a spell, and he covered the small body with his own as rock scattered around them.

"Are you all right?"

The boy turned a tear-stained face up at him, but his reply was lost in the crack of another spell. Harry gritted his teeth. "You need to get out of here! Run!"

Still the boy did not move; it was clear he was frozen with fear. Harry glanced round and threw up another quick Shield Charm before turning back.

"Come on." They couldn't afford to waste any more time. He grabbed the child's arm and pulled him roughly to his feet, ignoring the terrified whimper. "You're going to be fine. He kept his eyes on the attackers, but Ron and Hermione seemed to be keeping them busy. Harry glanced round, and caught side of a narrow alley a few metres away.

"This way."

He kept the Shield Charm up and was glad he did. They were barely halfway when the movement was noticed, and Harry clenched his teeth as the shield shuddered under a sudden impact. "Go!"

He pushed the child away, and gripped his wand with both hands, begging the shield to hold. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy disappear into the alleyway, but his relief was snuffed out in an instant at Hermione's terrified scream.

"Harry, watch out!"

Harry turned just in time to catch a blur of silver and then a lightning pan tore across his leg. "Argh!"

His wand fell from his finger as he fell to the floor, his injured limb no longer able to bear his weight. Harry grabbed at the injury, and nausea welled up in him as his fingers came away sticky. Summoning all his courage, he looked down to find himself bleeding from a deep cut across his thigh. A few feet away lay a bloodstained knife.

"Damn," he swore. The wound didn't look serious, but it hurt like hell. And worse still, he had dropped his wand and was completely undefended. From the smirks on the attackers' faces, they were very well aware of that fact. Harry looked round desperately, but his wand was nowhere in sight, and now they were raising theirs...

"No!"

Ron was suddenly in front of him, and the expression on his face was like nothing Harry had ever seen.

"I'll kill you, you bastards!"

"Ron, no!" Harry shouted. He tried to force himself up, only to find Hermione by his side.

"Stay there, and put pressure on it," she snapped. "We'll manage."

"Get out of here," Harry gasped. "Find Slytherin and-"

"We're not leaving," Hermione hissed. "Now keep quiet, and stay still."

"But-"

"Shut it, Harry," Ron snarled. "You're being a prat."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Hermione muttered.

Harry could only stare at them, stunned into silence by their vehemence. Neither bothered arguing further, they simply took up a position in front of him, taking it in turns to attack and defend. The enemy attackers looked slightly taken aback by their sudden determination, and Harry felt a flicker of hope. Ron and Hermione were fighting better than Harry had ever seen them, and for a dizzying moment, he wondered if they were going to make it out of this after all.

Then Ron was sent flying back through the air. He hit the ground with a thud and lay still.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed. She moved to cover him and Harry, but it was now two against one, and Hermione had never liked duelling. Harry scrambled desperately for his wand, teeth gritted against the pain in his leg, but his vision was blurred with sweat and fear, and he just couldn't see it. Panic such as he had never felt welled up in him. Harry was used to fighting for his life, but now Ron might be dead, and Hermione might soon be dead, and there was nothing he could do.

No, he would not accept that. He finally caught sight of his wand; it lay where he had dropped it, several metres away. Harry clenched his teeth and began to drag himself towards it, heedless of the spells that shot over his head. He had to do something.

But already Harry knew it wouldn't be enough. Try as he might, there was simply no way he could get to it in time. A split-second later that fear was confirmed when Hermione's wand flew from her hand to land in between her and their assailants. Harry saw smirks broaden into full-blown grins as she stood there, helpless but refusing to back down, and then a jet of purple light was flying through the air towards her, and he was shouting because there was nothing else he could do, and there was nothing that could stop it hitting...

Nothing except the shimmering golden shield that suddenly appeared before her. The spell was absorbed with no more than the sound of a ringing bell, and Godric Gryffindor stepped forwards, his wand in his hand, and his face like thunder. "Stand down, Hermione," he said quietly. "Leave them to us."

Pure relief left Harry feeling like he was going to collapse. Gryffindor was here. Everything was going to be fine. The feeling when Slytherin silently appeared next to his fellow Founder. "I'll take the one on the left, you take the one on the right?"

Gryffindor's smile was nothing less than predatory. "Agreed."

Harry had thought that they had been ruthless before. He had been wrong. The earlier ones had been defeated. This pair were annihilated. He looked away, unable to watch as shouts and pleas for mercy rang out. Never had it been so clear just how different their time periods were. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to be back in the Ministry, Prophecy and Death Eaters, and all.

But the memory of the terror on that boy's face, and the pleasure the men had taken in it silenced the doubts. This was not their time, they did not make the rules. They would just have to live by them.

Finally, silence fell.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to find Slytherin's silver eyes locked on his. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Harry managed. "Ron?"

"Godric has him, but it looks like he is only dazed. You are bleeding."

With a huge effort, Harry pulled himself together. "I don't think it's too deep."

"I'll be the judge of that." Surprisingly gentle fingers lifted the torn cloth away from the wound, and he hovered his wand over it. Harry watched in astonishment as the throbbing eased, and the flow of blood dried up.

"How did you-?"

"It is hardly the first time I have had to treat such injuries." Harry winced at the implications of that statement, but was distracted by Slytherin glancing back to him. "You were lucky."

Harry nodded. "I know. I didn't expect him to have a knife."

"That is something we will have to address. Muggle weapons are commonly used in conjunction with wands." His eyes narrowed. "However, a more pressing concern is the matter of your disobedience."

"We didn't-" Harry protested.

"We told you not to engage the enemy by yourselves." There was no mistaking the danger in his voice. "I hope you can explain yourselves."

Harry glared at him. "They were going to kill a little boy, and you were busy. What other choice did we have?"

"It's true," said Hermione. "We were only just in time as it was."

Slytherin glanced from one to the other. "Is that so?" Both nodded, and he sighed. "I see."

Harry eyed him warily. "You're not mad?"

"Probably," said Slytherin wryly. "But we would have done the same."

"Indeed we would have," said Gryffindor. He had evidently been listening from where he was tending to Ron. "Of course, we would not have been left in this condition. I think we need to increase your training schedule."

Slytherin smirked. "An excellent idea."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a wary look. Was this their idea of a punishment? They had learned from experience that both could be extremely inventive. Gryffindor caught the look, and his expression softened.

"You did do well," he said. "Now we just need to ensure that the outcome is a little less bloody next time."

Harry gave small smile. "I like that idea."

"Me too," Ron mumbled. He still looked very pale, but he was able to meet Harry's anxious gaze. "Did Grawp sit on me?"

Harry laughed in pure relief. "No, you just walked into a spell. How do you feel?"

"Like my head's about to split open." His eyes widened. "You're bleeding."

"It's not serious," Harry assured him.

"Hermione?"

Hermione knelt next to him. "I'm fine, they only disarmed me."

Ron shoulders slumped. "Good."

Gryffindor held out a hand to help him up. "Let's get you back to the castle. Helga will be able to fix you both up."

Harry had never been so relieved to hear that suggestion. Slytherin helped him to his feet, and offered him his arm.

"Try to keep your weight off of it as much as possible," he said quietly. "We don't want to do any more damage."

Recognising that this was no time for pride, Harry accepted the assistance. "Thanks." The initial sharp pain had been dulled by Slytherin's spell, but it still ached abominably whenever he put weight on it. He felt a sudden surge of empathy for Slytherin; no wonder he was so quiet if he had to endure this every day. Except on a much larger scale.

He was woken from his thoughts when Hermione moved closer. "Here's your wand," she said quietly. "And there's someone coming over." Harry tensed, but Slytherin shook his head.

"He is a friend."

Harry had to admit that he didn't look like an enemy. The man approaching was tall and broad-shouldered, but his broad, open face practically radiated likeability. He bowed when Gryffindor went to meet him, and the two held a quick murmured conversation.

"Who is he?"

"Hengist of Woodcroft," Slytherin replied. "He was one of our first students."

Harry frowned. The name was ringing bells, but he couldn't quite place it. Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron's eyes lit up. "Hengist? He founded this place, didn't he?"

"You only know that because it was on a Chocolate Frog Card," Hermione muttered.

"So? They're a valid source of information."

"It's not important," Harry interrupted, with a pointed look at Slytherin, who nodded.

"However you got the information, you are correct," he said. "He established this settlement some years ago and, as you can see, it has thrived."

Harry nodded, but Hermione's expression turned wary. "Sir, he's still coming."

"Just stay calm," said Slytherin softly. "You are our students; he will need no further assurances than that."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a wary look, but before they could say anything Hengist was before them and bowing to Slytherin. "As always, I cannot thank you enough for your assistance."

"It was the least we could do," Slytherin assured him. "Your people are well?"

"A few minor injuries, but nothing serious. It could have been much worse." His gaze travelled to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "I must thank you also."

"It was nothing," Harry mumbled.

Hengist shook his head. "No, it was not. I owe you a great debt."

Slytherin smiled. "We are very proud of them."

Harry felt his face heat up at the double compliment. Ron and Hermione were not much better off. Slytherin and Gryffindor exchanged an amused look, but Hengist's eyes widened.

"You are injured."

"Not seriously," Ron assured him. Harry winced; the fact that he was slightly slurring his words was not helping his case. All traces of humour had disappeared from the Founders' faces.

"I think it is time we returned to Hogwarts," said Gryffindor. His calm tone belied the concern in his eyes.

"Quite," Slytherin agreed. "Helga and Rowena will be wondering where we are as it is."

Hengist nodded. "Never a welcome state of affairs." Though he too kept his tone light, his anxious gaze kept drifting back to Ron and Harry. Gryffindor clapped him on the back.

"They will be fine. Helga will have them right as rain in an hour or so."

Hengist dipped his head. "You are right, of course." He looked at the trio. "I meant what I said. If you ever have need of help, you have only to ask."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

Slytherin gripped Harry's arm more tightly. "Come. It is time for us to be going."

Harry barely had time to nod to Hengist before the world dissolved into the whirling, crushing nightmare that was Side-Along Apparition.

That particular method of transport was always uncomfortable, but with a wounded leg, it turned out to be nothing less than horrific. Slytherin's iron grip on his arm was literally the only thing keeping him upright as they reappeared in the infirmary. "Ow," he mumbled.

Somehow, Slytherin's grip tightened, and then Hufflepuff was at his side, guiding him to a bed. "Sit down, dear. She glanced at Slytherin. "The rest of you?"

"Ron has a slight concussion, the rest of us are unharmed. Ah, here they are."

Gryffindor had just appeared with Ron and Hermione, and Hufflepuff lost no time in ushering them to beds too.

"I'm not hurt," Hermione protested. "It's Harry and Ron that need help." She tried to get up, only for Ravenclaw to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"You just experienced your first proper battle," she said gently. "You may not be injured, but you still need to relax."

Harry couldn't agree more. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the terror of the morning was beginning to set in, and he soon found himself shaking uncontrollably. He had fought other people before, in the graveyard and the Ministry, but this was something else. Then he had been trying to escape; this time he had head deliberately chosen to fight. He had attacked others, had been willing to do whatever it took to survive. What did that make him?

Then a hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked up into Slytherin's concerned face. "Breathe, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath, and let it out again. "I'm fine."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" said Hufflepuff. She ran her wand over his leg and nodded. "This is not serious. Salazar..."

"I can deal with this," said Salazar quietly. "Ron needs your attention more."

Harry felt a sudden surge of panic. "Is he-"

"He will be just fine," Gryffindor assured him from Ron's side. "But a concussion requires more delicate handling."

Hufflepuff nodded. "Fortunately, I have had plenty of practice." She shot a wry glance at Gryffindor and Slytherin before resting her hands on Ron's temples. Harry watched in fascination as her hands began to glow with a soft golden light, but his attention was abruptly diverted by Slytherin drawing his wand.

"What are you going to do?" He trusted the man completely, but past experience had made him wary of anyone casting spells on him. Slytherin met his gaze steadily.

"I am going to heal it, if that is all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Slytherin gave him a small smile. "Try to relax. This will not hurt, but there will be some discomfort."

He wasn't lying. It wasn't painful exactly, but the sensation of his flesh knitting itself back together was an unpleasant one to say the least.

"You are lucky that this is superficial," Slytherin murmured. "It will be sore for a day or two, but there will be no lasting damage."

Harry swallowed. "Good." To distract himself from the experience, he looked over to Ron and Hermione. Hufflepuff was still working on Ron, but already his colour was looking better. Hermione and Ravenclaw, meanwhile, were deep in conversation. Slytherin followed his gaze.

"They will be too."

Harry nodded, but didn't reply. Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "What is the matter?"

Harry looked down. "I thought we were ready. But if you hadn't come when you did..." He broke off, unable to voice the terrifying truth.

"That is the risk we all take," said Slytherin quietly.

"I know. But we weren't ready." He attempted a smile, but knew that it came out as more of a grimace. "Guess we should have listened to you."

Slytherin shook his head. "You did as well as could have been expected. If anything, it is we who are at fault; we never considered the possibility that the use of Muggle weaponry would come as a surprise to you."

Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault. We should have remembered that things would be different."

"You should not have had to." His expression hardened. "We will remedy this situation."

"Agreed," said Gryffindor grimly.

"What happened?" asked Ravenclaw.

"One of them hit me with knife," Harry told her. "I wasn't expecting it."

"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron mumbled. "I didn't know you could use throwing knives in battle either."

"You can," Gryffindor assured him. "I favour the sword, but Salazar has always preferred knives."

Slytherin nodded. "They are more versatile," he said by way of explanation. "They are effective at both short and long range, and are not limited to use in battle."

Harry stared at him. "Are you saying you carry them around with you normally?"

"Of course. One never knows when an attack may come." He extracted a thin bladed knife from his boot, and handed it to Harry. "Be careful."

Harry held it gingerly, but made no effort to hide his fascination. Even he, who had no experience with weapons, could tell that it was a good one, perfectly balanced and maintained. A thought struck him and he looked up. "You've got one in your other boot too, haven't you?"

Gryffindor barked a laugh. "Among others."

"More?" Hermione asked. She too had come over and was staring at the knife.

Slytherin shrugged. "It is always worth having one or two in less obvious places."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Just how paranoid was he? Although considering all that had happened, he probably had the right to be. Gryffindor caught his expression and smiled.

"In any case, it will certainly be worth going over the basics of how to fight an opponent who is also skilled with Muggle weaponry. The longer you stay here, the more likely you will be to need it."

Ron's eyes lit up. "We can learn to use swords and stuff?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys."

"Quite," Hufflepuff agreed.

"It would be useful for them to know," Slytherin pointed out. "Although I would not get too excited," he said, when Harry and Ron exchanged eager looks. "It takes many years to master this style of fighting."

Gryffindor nodded. "As long as you can keep yourselves alive long enough to escape, or for one of us to assist you, that should be sufficient."

Harry frowned. He understood that it was difficult, but he hated the thought of having to wait to be rescued every time they ran into one of these enemies. Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "Salazar was not exaggerating," he said sharply. "It took years of training with both sword and magic before I was able to use them in concert effectively, and Salazar was much the same."

"Longer," said Slytherin. "I began training later in life, and it made a considerable difference."

Ron scowled. "I still don't like running."

"Tough," said Gryffindor flatly. "Your life is more important than your pride."

There was no arguing with that, and Harry and Ron fell into a mutinous silence. Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged an unreadable look, but neither tried to comment. After a few minutes, Hermione and Ravenclaw began to continue their previous conversation, albeit much more quietly.

It was Hufflepuff who broke the silence. "How do you feel now?" she asked.

Ron carefully moved his head from side to side, and his resentment faded into wonder. "It feels as good as new." He stared up at her. "Thanks."

Hufflepuff smiled and patted him on the head. "You are welcome." She crossed to Harry. "And you?"

Harry blinked; he had completely forgotten his injury. He looked down in time to see Slytherin clean the dried blood from his skin and robes. "All done," he said quietly. Another tap of the wand, and the rent in the cloth was mended. Harry stared at it, and then back at Slytherin.

"Thank you."

He suddenly felt ashamed of himself. Here he was complaining about not being able to master a complicated fighting style, when Slytherin and the others were just trying to keep him safe. Slytherin's gaze softened. "No matter," he said gently. "Learn all you can, and we will manage from there."

Harry nodded. "All right."

Hufflepuff looked between them, a small smile growing across her face. Harry glanced over to see that Ron and Gryffindor were talking quietly, and that Ron too looked happier than he had done previously. Hermione came over to join him. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked anxiously.

"We're both fine," Harry assured her.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. He was slightly shaky as he stood up, but he shook his head at her offer of help. "Don't think I'd be up for fighting anything else today though."

"You won't," Gryffindor promised. "In all honesty, I think you have earned a day off."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He enjoyed his lessons, but even Hermione would have struggled to concentrate after all that.

"An excellent idea," said Ravenclaw briskly. "May I suggest we remove ourselves outside? I have a feeling this is the last sunshine we will have for some time."

"And we know how accurate your feelings can be," said Hufflepuff with a smile.

Nobody had any objections, and a few minutes later they were stepping out into the grounds. There was a slight nip to the breeze, but not enough to be uncomfortable, and the skies were a clear blue. Harry shook his head. It was hard to imagine a day like this holding anything troubling, yet only an hour ago they had been fighting for their lives. It was difficult to adjust.

"Will everyone in Hogsmeade be all right?" he asked.

"Hengist has it under control," Gryffindor told him. "Unfortunately, he is accustomed to events such as these. If he needs our help, he will let us know."

"Good."

Ron flopped down on the grass with a groan. "I hope he doesn't. I haven't felt this tired in months."

Harry grunted in agreement. He'd never felt so stiff in his life, not even after Wood's most demanding Quidditch practices. Hufflepuff gave them a sympathetic look.

"I will have the house-elves heat some water later. A hot bath will make you feel much better."

"And it will get easier the more you train," said Gryffindor. "Everyone feels like this at first, but it will improve."

Harry grimaced. That day couldn't come soon enough for him. Ravenclaw leaned forwards.

"So does nobody in your time use Muggle weapons?"

"Muggles haven't used swords and things like that for a long time," Hermione explained. "And most purebloods probably think it would be beneath them."

"Then they are fools," said Slytherin flatly. "This form of combat requires an unrivalled degree of skill and, as you saw today, a skilled warrior can easily hold his own against multiple opponents."

Ron rubbed the back of his head. "You don't have to tell us." He shook his head. "I've never heard of anyone fighting like that."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Not even from Bill?"

Ron ignored her. "I do know that anything other than a wand is banned on the duelling circuit. Maybe that had something to do with it."

"Duelling circuit?" Gryffindor queried.

"It's a series of competitions," Ron told him. "Only the very best are even allowed to enter. Professor Flitwick, our Charms Master, used to be a Duelling champion."

Ravenclaw glanced at Gryffindor. "He would not happen to be a Gryffindor, would he?"

Hermione smiled. "Actually, he's the head of Ravenclaw."

Both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor appeared taken aback by that, but Slytherin just smiled. "He sounds like a most interesting character," he said. "It is a pity we will never get the chance to meet him."

"You'd like him," Harry agreed. "He's a brilliant teacher; he makes even the boring stuff fun."

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "Boring parts?" Harry hesitated, then saw the twinkle in his eyes and relaxed.

"Very funny," he muttered half-heartedly.

Hufflepuff looked thoughtful. "Has this Professor Flitwick ever tried to set up any extra Duelling lessons? It sounds like he could teach you a great deal."

"He could, but I don't know if he has the time," Hermione replied. "The heads of the houses each have to do a lot of extra work."

"Pity," said Gryffindor. "Considering the standard of your Defence teachers, separate Duelling lessons would be very useful."

"They did try to set up a Duelling Club in our second year," said Harry. "It, er, didn't go so well."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask why?"

Harry grinned. "Well, our Defence teacher that year was running it, and he was-"

"A moron," Ron supplied.

"Pretty much."

Hermione nodded. "It's true; in fact that's putting it politely. I've never met anyone quite so incompetent."

"Not that you thought so at first," Ron muttered under his breath. Harry caught it and smirked, causing Hermione to shoot them a suspicious look.

"Do we want to know what he did?" Hufflepuff asked warily.

Harry's grin widened at the memory. "For a start, he asked Professor Snape to help him."

"And that was a bad idea?"

"Very. I hate Snape, but even I have to admit that he's a brilliant wizard. They gave a demonstration at the start and Snape blasted him off the stage with one spell."

Gryffindor stared at him. "One spell?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "Expelliarmus. Only time I've ever applauded Snape."

"And this was your Defence instructor?" He sounded like he couldn't quite believe his ears. Harry shrugged.

"That was Lockhart for you. He couldn't even show me how to block spells properly."

"Why was he even hired?" Slytherin demanded.

Hermione grimaced. "Unfortunately he was the only applicant."

"It sounds like you would have done better teaching yourselves," said Hufflepuff.

"We couldn't have been much worse," Harry agreed. "You should have seen his first lesson."

Ravenclaw closed her eyes for a moment. "What did he do?" Her tone was more resigned than anything else.

"Well, he started off by testing us on how well we'd read our books."

Ravenclaw frowned. "That sounds reasonable."

"Yeah, but the questions were things like 'what is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?'"

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Ron nodded. "And 'when is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday?'"

"What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?" Hermione added. "How many times has Gilderoy Lockhart won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award?"

"What does any of this have to do with Defence?" Gryffindor exploded.

Harry grinned. "It gets worse."

"How could it possibly get worse?"

"Well Hermione got full marks for one thing – Ow, Hermione!"

Harry ignored the interruption with the ease of long practice. "He'd brought along some creatures for us to study. He said they were among the most dangerous creatures we would ever face."

Amused smiles disappeared in an instant.

"What did he do?" Slytherin hissed. He was once again gripping his staff very hard. "If anyone was hurt..."

"Everyone was fine," Harry assured him. "You see, these terrifying creatures turned out to be a cage full of pixies."

There was silence for a moment.

"Harry," said Hufflepuff slowly. "I think I must have misheard. Did you say pixies?"

It was all Harry could do to keep from collapsing into laughter. "Yep."

Gryffindor's shoulders began to shake. "Pixies?"

"Ah yes, those legendary menaces," said Slytherin dryly. "I do hope you survived such a traumatic experience unscathed."

Harry swallowed his laughter with an effort. Ron was already chuckling in anticipation. "Oh, that wasn't the end of it."

Ravenclaw's eyes widened. "You cannot mean... He didn't..."

"He did. He released them."

That was too much for Gryffindor. His guffaws joined Hufflepuff's giggles. Ravenclaw just shook her head, her eyes sparkling with mingled exasperation and amusement. "Unbelievable."

"That's what we thought at the time," Ron managed.

Slytherin glanced at them. "I agree. Moron was indeed a polite way of putting it."

Harry laughed and lay back on the grass. The memories of the morning were fading now, lost in the bright sunshine and his friends' happiness. Truly, it was good to be alive on a day like this. No one spoke, each revelling in the rare moment of peace.

It was Gryffindor who broke the silence. "Hello."

Harry sat up with a grunt. "What is it?"

Gryffindor nodded past him as he rose to his feet. "It appears we have a visitor."

Harry's heart leapt, but there was no alarm in Gryffindor's voice. He glanced round to see a horse and rider approaching. He had just entered the ground and Harry relaxed; if they were a threat; the Founders would be able to tell by now. Instead, a genuine smile was spreading across Slytherin's face as he pushed himself upright.

"It has been some time since we last saw him."

Gryffindor steadied him automatically, his eyes still on the rider. "Indeed, though I think I can guess the purpose of his visit."

"That is no great achievement," Ravenclaw murmured. Unlike the others, her expression was one of distinct wariness. Hermione glanced at her.

"Is everything all right?"

"He is a friend," Hufflepuff assured her.

Harry frowned. They were all on their feet as they waited, and he couldn't suppress a sudden twinge of unease. He knew there was no reason for it, he hadn't even met this visitor yet, but something told him that they were going to be important.

"Who is he?" Ron asked.

"His name is Edmund," said Gryffindor. "Like Hengist, he was one of our early students."

"And one of my best," said Slytherin. "He finished his education some years ago, but he visits every now and then."

"What do you think he wants?" Hermione asked.

"I am not sure," Ravenclaw murmured. "But I can guess."

Harry was on the verge of questioning her further when Edmund rode up and came to a halt in front of them. He was a handsome man, with brown hair tied back, and a neatly trimmed beard. He could only have been a few years older than them, but he carried himself with a dignity that made him appear much older. At the moment though, his blue eyes sparkled with genuine pleasure as he dismounted.

"Good day to you all." He went straight to Slytherin and began to bow, only for Slytherin to instead shake his hand.

"It is good to see you, Edmund. I trust you are well?"

"Very well, thank you. How has everything been here?"

"The usual," said Gryffindor cheerfully.

"So random attacks and strange happenstances?"

Gryffindor laughed and clapped him on the back. "However did you guess?"

Harry used the reunion to study the new arrival more closely. He was very tall and thin, and his robes were well made and clearly expensive. Harry frowned. He had never met this man before in his life, yet somehow he seemed familiar. Hermione also looked thoughtful, but before they could say anything, Edmund shot them a curious look. Hufflepuff caught his eye.

"Edmund, meet Harry, Ron and Hermione. They are new students of ours."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Hermione tentatively.

Edmund nodded politely to each of them. "Likewise." He turned to Ravenclaw. "Professor, may I speak with you?"

Ravenclaw sighed, but she nodded. "Certainly."

Slytherin murmured something to Edmund, who grimaced, but nodded before moving away with Ravenclaw. The other three Founders exchanged weary looks.

"This is not a good idea," Gryffindor sighed.

Hufflepuff glanced at Slytherin. "Is there anything you can do?"

Slytherin scowled. "I have lost count of the number of times I have tried. He will not listen."

"It is the only thing he does not take you advice on," said Hufflepuff consolingly. "You cannot take it personally."

Harry coughed loudly and the three of them started.

"Ah, our apologies," said Gryffindor. "We were slightly distracted."

"Yeah, we noticed," Ron mumbled.

"What's going on?" asked Harry. "What does he want?"

"What he always wants," said Slytherin. He ran a hand through his hair and began to ease himself back down onto the grass. Harry joined him.

"And what's that?"

Gryffindor sighed. "Helena."

Harry tensed immediately. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. Helena was a little bit of a sore spot. She seemed to be going out of her way to avoid them, but with so few people in the castle, it was inevitable that they would run into each other occasionally. Each time Harry tried to talk to her, and each time he was rebuffed with the same haughty arrogance she had displayed during their first encounter. It was infuriating. Nothing he said or did ever seemed worthy of the slightest attention.

And yet, despite the coolness and the disdain, Harry just couldn't let it go. Admittedly, that was partly because she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Unlike most of the girls back home, with the cosmetic charms and their constant makeovers, Helena's beauty was completely natural, and far more attractive to him as a result.

Harry grimaced. Yes, she was beautiful, but that wasn't the only reason. He couldn't help thinking that there was more to her than the aloof persona she liked to show. If there was, Harry wanted to get to know her, and he could only do that if he kept trying to talk to her. No matter how exasperating it might be.

"What do you mean, he wants Helena?" he asked.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you think it means?"

...Oh. Harry felt something unpleasant uncoil in the pit of his stomach. "Huh."

Any charitable thoughts he had had towards Edmund were diminishing rapidly.

Gryffindor nodded. "He has asked her for her hand in marriage several times a year ever since she was thirteen."

"Thirteen?" Ron exclaimed. "That's a bit young isn't it?"

Hufflepuff frowned. "Not really. I was that age when I married."

Hermione glanced at her. "I didn't know you were married."

Hufflepuff's eyes darkened. "I was."

"That is beside the point," Slytherin interrupted. "In this time, girls frequently marry at twelve of thirteen. I take it that this is no longer the case." Harry eyed him, startled by the abrupt subject change, but Ron was already shaking his head.

"My parents were eighteen, only just out of Hogwarts when they married, and everyone thought they were too young."

"And we're still off the point," said Harry. "Does Helena not want to marry him then?"

Hufflepuff shook her head. "She is quite adamant that she will not take a husband."

Harry's relief immediately faded to depression. "Really?"

"Not until she finds someone good enough," said Slytherin wryly. "It may take some time."

"Someone good enough, huh?"

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "I hope you remember our previous conversation."

Harry swallowed. "Yes, sir." He tried to squash the brief flicker of resentment; it was only understandable that Gryffindor would be concerned for someone he was so close to. Understandable, but not pleasant. His annoyance wasn't helped when Slytherin shot him an amused look, but Hermione too was frowning.

"Is that why he's talking to Professor Ravenclaw? He's trying to convince her to help?"

Hufflepuff nodded. "Not that it will do him any good."

"What do you mean?"

"Rowena will not force Helena to marry anyone she does not wish to," said Gryffindor flatly. "Edmund should know that by now."

"We have all told him often enough," Slytherin agreed. "But he is stubborn."

"You taught him well," Hufflepuff murmured.

Slytherin dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you."

"I'm not sure that was a compliment," Ron mumbled.

Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "For him, it is."

Harry once again dragged the conversation back to the original point. "So Helena isn't in love with him?"

"God no," said Gryffindor. "Sometimes I wonder if she loves anyone."

"That is unfair to her," said Hufflepuff reproachfully. "She loves Rowena, all of us in fact. Even if she struggles to show it."

"True," Gryffindor acknowledged. "But romantic love is a very different matter."

Harry sighed. None of this was making him feel much better. He knew that any romance would be doomed from the start, but it would have been nice to have some hope. He glanced over to where Edmund and Ravenclaw were talking, just in time to see Edmund bow and stride off towards the castle. Ravenclaw stood staring after him for a moment, before shaking her head and coming back over to them. Gryffindor twisted to look up at her.

"He didn't listen, did he?"

Ravenclaw sank down next to him. "No." She picked listlessly at a blade of grass until Gryffindor covered her hand with his own.

"It is not your fault."

Ravenclaw didn't reply. Slytherin sighed. "He would not listen to me either. There was nothing you could have said to change his mind."

Ravenclaw closed her eyes. "Maybe not. But that does not make it any more pleasant."

Hufflepuff patted her on the arm. "He will be all right. They both will."

"I am not so sure," Ravenclaw murmured. "How many times does this make?"

"Too many," said Slytherin quietly.

Ravenclaw looked at him. "You have thought about this too?"

"Of course I have. He is still my student." He looked down. "I do not like seeing my students hurt."

"They will work it out between them," Gryffindor assured them. "They will be all right. Eventually."

Slytherin sighed. "I hope so."

Harry shot him a curious look, but the genuine misery on his face pushed his feelings about Helena to one side. Edmund might have left Hogwarts to live his life, but Slytherin still cared about him. All the Founders did. It was oddly touching, but at the same time, he could only imagine what it was like to see people they cared for so much in pain. Their reticence to allow him and the others to fight the Order suddenly made a lot more sense. It was a sobering thought, and Harry cast desperately about for a change of subject.

"Professor, can I ask you something?"

Ravenclaw seized the distraction with equal relief. "Certainly. What is the matter?"

"I was wondering if that charm you put on us this morning is still working."

She nodded. "It should last for a week or so. It should not matter; as long as you re within the Hogwarts grounds, your words will be translated automatically."

"That makes things so much easier," said Hermione fervently.

Ron nodded. "Wish it was still like that back home."

"We will sort it out," said Harry firmly. And speaking of which... "Professor, can I ask how the time-travel research is going?"

"You may. I am making progress, but I am afraid it is going to take some time." She glanced at the other Founders. "It will certainly not be ready before the rest of our students return."

Gryffindor frowned. "That could be problematic."

"Not necessarily," said Hufflepuff. She looked at the trio. "Would the three of you be happy to join the rest of our students in lessons?"

"Of course," said Hermione. "But won't it be odd having three students who already know magic turn up?"

Slytherin shook his head. "A sizeable number of students were trained in the basics before being sent to us for more advanced training. You will not attract too much attention."

Harry nodded, but that wasn't his main concern. "What if we make mistakes? We're not from this time; we're probably not going to know things they take as common knowledge."

"You will have to be careful," said Gryffindor. "And we still have just under three weeks. We have time to teach you not to stand out so much."

"Thanks," said Ron. ""We'll look like right idiots if we get the basic stuff wrong."

"We will avoid that," Gryffindor assured him.

"What sort of magic will we be learning?" asked Hermione.

"That will depend on you, in part," Ravenclaw answered. "All students are required to take Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions, Duelling, and Astronomy, but you will also have the option to study Divination, Arithmancy, Magical Creatures, Runes, Warding, Alchemy, Music, Crafting..."

Ron's mouth fell open. "That many?"

Harry was little better off. He had heard of some of those, such as Alchemy, being offered to the best N.E.W.T. students, but others he had never even heard of. What was Crafting? And why teach Music?

"There is powerful magic in music," said Ravenclaw, and Harry realised with a start that he had said the last question out loud. "You need only read your histories to know that. Some of the most powerful enchantments we know of have been created through music."

Harry just nodded, slightly stunned by the passion in her voice. Gryffindor smiled at him. "That was my reaction too."

"Only until I started playing."

Slytherin smirked. "And never since."

"You can hardly blame me," Gryffindor protested. "That last time I had heard you-"

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" There was no mistaking the warning glint in her eyes. True to form, Gryffindor reacted with the danger with his usual speed.

"It had been beautiful, but you had never even mentioned incorporating magic into it."

Harry bit his lip to keep from grinning. Slytherin didn't bother. Ravenclaw just rolled her eyes. "I see." She turned to Hermione, pointedly ignoring the grin that passed between Gryffindor and Slytherin. "You would be free to choose your extra subjects, though certain classes, such as Crafting and Alchemy, are only available to students in their final years of study."

Hermione nodded, her enthusiasm not at all dampened by the news. "I would like to continue with Runes and Arithmancy, and would it be possible to take Warding too? And Magical Creatures would be fascinating to study in this time; I expect there are a number of creatures here that we wouldn't be able to study back home..."

"You do realise that you still need to eat and sleep, don't you?" Ron interrupted.

Hermione frowned at him. "It's not that much." Slytherin just raised an eyebrow, and her cheeks tinged pink. "It is?"

"Just a little," said Hufflepuff gently. "We do not want you to overwork yourself."

"Third year," Ron coughed.

Hermione bit her lip. "I see your point."

Ravenclaw smiled at her. "We do appreciate your enthusiasm; we just do not want you to make yourself ill. Take some time to think about it. We still have a couple of weeks to decide."

Slytherin nodded. "And I would be happy to discuss whether you have the requisite knowledge to take Warding at a later date."

Hermione brightened. "Really? Thank you."

"You are welcome." He turned to Harry and Ron, who were trying, unsuccessfully, to suppress grins. "The two of you will also need to decide what you want to do."

Harry sighed, his amusement at the situation vanishing immediately. "Great."

"What is it?"

Harry shrugged, unsure of how to put it into words. Every time he had to decide anything even vaguely related to the future, he had just gone along with whatever Ron or Hermione were doing, simply because he never knew what else to do. He didn't really know what his strengths were, other than Quidditch and surviving, and he had never had had anyone to ask to get an unbiased opinion. "I don't know what I should do." he said quietly.

"What do you want to do?" asked Slytherin.

"I want to be an Auror."

Slytherin frowned. "These are the Dark wizard hunters in your time, are they not?"

"Yeah."

For some reason Slytherin did not look pleased, but he said nothing. Before Harry could question him, Gryffindor started speaking. "All the core subjects will be useful to you then. It is fortunate that we will also be continuing Occlumency and Healing."

Ron blinked. "We will?"

"Certainly. You will need them when you return, and it will not be difficult to arrange private lessons."

Harry stared at him. It was one thing for the Founders to spend so much time with them during the holidays when they had no other responsibilities, but it was quite another for them to do so on top of all their other duties. And yet they did not even seem to have considered the idea of not doing so. Not for the first time, the depth of their dedication took his breath away.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to meet Salazar's silver gaze. "Yes, sir?"

"What you do will be your decision, and yours alone. But if you do need advice, we would all be more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"He is right," said Hufflepuff, "and that goes for the two of you as well," she added, glancing at Ron and Hermione. "Please do not hesitate to come to us."

"We won't," said Hermione quietly. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Gryffindor turned to Slytherin.

"Have you made any progress with your own research?"

Harry's attention switched to him immediately. He had been doing his best not to pester Slytherin about it, avoiding all thoughts of the soul fragment helped, but the matter was always there in the back of his mind. Slytherin glanced at him and sighed.

"Some," he said. "Unfortunately every source agrees that Basilisk venom and Fiendfyre are the only things that are certain to work." He sighed. "The theory is that the Horcrux must suffer too much damage for it to be able to repair itself."

"Which would be more than enough to kill me too," Harry finished.

Slytherin looked at him. "I have not finished looking," he said. "Do not give up hope just yet."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to reply. He was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to find a way out of this.

"At least we know how to destroy it," said Gryffindor. "All that remains is to discover a way to isolate it from Harry."

Slytherin scowled. "Yes, just that minor detail. No problem."

Hufflepuff laid a hand on his arm. "You will find a way. You always do."

Slytherin gave her a small smile. "Thank you."

Ron nudged Harry. "See? It'll be fine."

Gryffindor nodded. "We will do this, Harry. Have we ever lied to you?"

Harry shook his head. "I know. Sorry, I just..."

"We understand," said Hufflepuff gently. "But we will find a way."

"I will visit my library again," Ravenclaw offered.

Slytherin glanced at her. "I appreciate it, but your father is hardly likely to have information on such a subject." He shook his head. "I will have to try other sources."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What kind of other sources?"

Slytherin met her gaze without flinching. "Dark wizards."

Harry stared at him. Surely he was joking. He had to be joking. Right? The dawning horror on Ron's face showed he was in complete agreement.

"But they're evil!" he exclaimed. "Why would they do anything to help you?"

"They wouldn't," said Slytherin calmly. "But they are the only ones who possess the information I need."

Maybe, but Harry could see quite a glaring flaw with this plan. "Won't that be really dangerous? I mean, you fight Dark wizards all the time. Won't they try to get revenge?"

The smile that Slytherin gave him left Harry in no doubt as to how Slytherin had earned his reputation as a master of the Dark Arts. "They know better."

Harry swallowed. This man, someone even Dark wizards knew to fear, was not the teacher he had come to respect. Slytherin caught his eye and his expression softened.

"I will not be in any danger. I will simply be visiting an old friend."

Ravenclaw frowned. "Zalasta?"

Slytherin glanced at her. "You may not approve of him-"

"For good reason."

"But he is a useful ally," Slytherin continued unperturbed. "And he has access to resources that are now beyond me."

Gryffindor folded his arms. "I still do not trust him."

"You have no reason to."

"Who is he?" asked Harry.

"As I said, an old friend."

Hermione frowned. "But he's a Dark wizard, isn't he?"

"Yes," Slytherin admitted. "Although his interests run to the academic, rather than to the practical applications."

"He's still Dark," Ron protested. "How do you know you can trust him?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said I trusted him?"

"You said he was your friend."

"What does that have to do with it?"

Ron's mouth opened and closed for a minute. Harry glanced helplessly at Gryffindor, who shrugged. "It makes sense to him."

Maybe, but Harry was still struggling with the concept. He trusted all his friends simply because they were his friends; it had never occurred to him to do any differently. Ron and Hermione also looked bemused, though the other Founders seemed to be taking it in their stride. Harry supposed they were used to it. Slytherin glanced round and sighed.

"I respect him," he explained. "We have a number mutual interests and acquaintances. He has no reason to harm me, nor I him. Would I trust him with my secrets? No."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "That still doesn't make sense."

"Does it help if I tell you that he does not trust me either?"

"Not really." Not for the first time, Harry realised that for all their similarities, there were certain characteristics that they simply did not share.

"If you don't trust him," said Hermione, "then why risk asking him about this?"

"I frequently ask his advice regarding more obscure branches of the Dark Arts," Slytherin explained. "He will not be suspicious of this request. At least, no more so than usual."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, and was glad to see that he wasn't the only one starting to get lost. This was a type of relationship he had never encountered, and Harry could not deny that he didn't like it. Surely it was too dangerous, though for Slytherin or his friend Harry couldn't say. He looked at the other Founders. None of them looked particularly pleased, but neither did they appear alarmed. Gryffindor let out a long sigh.

"Do you think he will be able to help?"

Slytherin met his gaze steadily. "It can do no harm to try."

"It might," said Hufflepuff quietly.

Slytherin squeezed her fingers lightly. "It is worth the risk."

Harry's head jerked up, a protest half-formed on his lips, but all thoughts of arguing died at the light in Slytherin's eyes. He knew it would do no good; Slytherin would do this to protect him, just as he had with Gryffindor that very morning, just as all the Founders had over the past few weeks. Why, Harry didn't know. But he knew better than to protest by now, and he saw the same acknowledgement reflected on every face present. Slytherin just nodded.

"I will arrange it then."

Harry glanced at him. "Be careful."

Slytherin's expression softened into something remarkably like affection. "Always." He leaned back, eyes sparkling. "In the meantime, why don't you tell us more of this wonderful Professor Lockhart of yours?"

Ron immediately launched into yet more tales of Lockhart's arrogance and vanity, and Harry felt some of the tension drain from his body as laughter and mockery ensued. There were still problems, and plenty of them, but they had had enough of Dark wizards and Horcruxes. For now, the sun was shining, and his friends were close. The darkness could wait a few days.

Chapter 13: Complications Arise

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

"Oh, bloody hell."

Ron clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late. Hermione's triumphant smile faded.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Ron mumbled.

"Ron-"

"I said its fine."

Hermione bit her lip. Out of the corner of his eye Ron saw Harry and Slytherin exchange a look, and felt yet again like the worst sort of person.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Hermione shot him a tentative smile. "It's fine."

It wasn't, but Ron didn't have the heart to argue. Fortunately, Harry was there to break the tension. "Well, at least one of us is making progress."

Hermione's smile became more genuine, and Ron had to fight back an all too familiar surge of jealousy. He knew it was irrational and stupid, but he couldn't help it. How could he? Harry was Harry, while he was just...

No. He was not going there again.

"Nice one, Hermione."

Hermione held his gaze for a long moment before giving him a small smile. "Thanks."

Slytherin stepped forwards to join them. "You have done very well," he agreed. "Now let's see if you can repeat it." Hermione nodded, her face settling into a familiar mask of determination, and he turned to Ron and Harry. "In the meantime, the two of you still have work to do."

Ron sighed. He had been looking forward to learning to Apparate ever since he had first seen his dad do it, but he had never expected it to be this hard. They had been learning for weeks now, and he didn't seem to be making progress at all. Neither was Harry, but Hermione had just succeeded, prompting Ron's less than tactful exclamation.

Ron scuffed the floor with his foot, no longer feeling any desire to continue practicing. There was no point. He was never going to get it. Another surge of guilt rose up as he glanced over at Hermione. He hadn't meant to snap, he hated seeing her upset. Why was it so hard to control his bloody temper around her?

"Ron?"

Ron started and winced; it was never a good idea to let your attention wander in Slytherin's classes. "Sir?"

Slytherin studied him. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine, sir." The answer came a little too quick, and he had to suppress a grimace, but Slytherin's eyes narrowed.

"Are you having poblems?"

Ron snorted. "That's one way of putting it." He flinched, expecting a reprimand for his rudeness, but Slytherin just regarded him for a moment.

"Come with me."

Ron drew back instinctively. "What? Why?"

Slytherin's expression did not change. "I think it is time we talked."

"But-"

"Now."

There was no answering with that particular tone. Ron dropped his gaze. "Yes, sir."

Harry shot them a curious look, but Slytherin shook his head. "Continue to practice. We will not be long."

Ron continued to stare at the ground as he followed Slytherin from the room. His heart was pounding; he had come to accept, albeit reluctantly, that Slytherin was not the man he thought he was, but that didn't mean he was completely calm around him. Slytherin wasn't physically intimidating, he had barely an inch on Ron and was much slighter in build, but only a fool would think of underestimating him. The pure power he radiated was unmistakeable, and after the battle a few days ago there was no questioning his duelling prowess. Worse still, he was practically impossible to read. Ron had no idea if he was angry or not, but he certainly wasn't looking forward to finding out.

Once out in the corridor, Slytherin shut the door and turned to Ron.

"Would you like to tell me what's going on?"

There was no anger in his voice, but Ron just shook his head. "It's nothing, sir."

"Clearly not."

Ron tried again. "It's not important-"

"It is if it is affecting your learning," said Slytherin sharply. His eyes glinted a warning, but Ron just snorted.

"Everything could be fine and I wouldn't get this."

"Ron-"

"What's the point? I can't do it."

"Enough." Ron fell silent, and Slytherin continued more calmly. "You will get there in time. This is not easy; even Godric took a couple of months to master it. You have been learning only a few weeks. Continue to practice, and you will improve."

"Hermione did it," Ron muttered.

Slytherin's eyes gleamed. "I see."

"What?"

"You cannot constantly compare yourself to others," said Slytherin. "Everyone learns different magic at different speeds. Hermione is more focused than either you or Harry; it is only logical that she managed this more quickly. There will be other areas where you surpass her."

"I doubt it." The words slipped out before he could stop himself, and he clamped his jaw shut, hoping that Slytherin hadn't heard.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. Drop the matter, drop the matter...

"I think not." He folded his arms. "You do have skills and aptitudes that the others do not."

"But I don't," Ron protested. "I might be getting better at strategy but Hermione's better at everything academic, and Harry's much better at anything practical." His voice dropped. "You should have seen him this morning."

It was a bitter pill to swallow. Harry had always been the best duellist of the tree of them, but Ron had at least been able to give him a decent fight. Now, with everything that Gryffindor and the others had taught them, he was simply unstoppable. Ron was genuinely pleased for him, he knew Harry would need every possible advantage when they got back home, but part of him couldn't help but be discouraged.

"What can I do to help when he's already that good?" he whispered.

The question had been hovering at the back of his mind for years. Never had it felt so relevant as it did now. Slytherin sighed.

"It is not easy. Believe me, I know."

Ron didn't even try to hide his scepticism. "Really?"

Slytherin just looked at him. "You are not the only one to have a best friend who far surpasses you in strength."

Ron opened his mouth then closed it again. That thought had never even crossed his mind. Slytherin nodded.

"The first time I met Godric, he broke through a series of defences, killed a Dark Arts master, and then proceeded to defeat me in my own environment. All in the space of an hour, and without taking a single injury. I have learned a great deal since then, but it is rare indeed for me to defeat him in combat."

Ron had never thought he would ever have something in common with Salazar Slytherin. Hell, he would have been insulted at the very thought. Now, however, he was very glad to find that he was wrong.

"What do you do?"

Slytherin gave an elegant shrug. "I knew there was no way I could equal him as a battle mage. But even he needs someone to watch his back."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "But I'm still a burden. I can't even help him with anything else; I'm not much better than him at any of our subjects, and Hermione's top of the class in everything."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "You have met Rowena, have you not?"

"True," Ron allowed. "But that doesn't change the fact that he really doesn't need me." Hard as it was to admit, it was nothing but the truth. So he was rather surprised to see Slytherin roll his eyes towards the ceiling.

"You really are extraordinarily stubborn."

Whatever Ron had been expecting, it had not been that. "What?"

"I know for a fact that Godric has spoken to you a number of times on this matter."

"Yeah," Ron muttered. "I look after them, and keep them grounded. But it still feels like they would be fine without me." He allowed a hint of desperation to leak into his voice. "Did you ever have that?"

Slytherin studied him for a moment. "For Godric and me it was a little different," he said. "We had both been travelling alone for a number of years before we met."

"So you would have been fine," Ron finished. He tried to hold back his disappointment, but was distracted when Slytherin shook his head.

"I never said that," he said quietly.

Ron looked back to him. "What do you mean?"

Slytherin hesitated for a long moment before replying. "It is complicated. Let us just say that while I would have survived, I would not have been fine." He gave a bitter smile. "I will not deny that I was a burden to him. Often I wondered why he even bothered with me."

"Did you ever found out?" Ron asked. Despite his concerns, this was beginning to make sense.

Slytherin's smile turned more genuine. "Yes. Though not for many years."

"Then what?"

Slytherin's reply was so quiet that Ron had to strain to hear it. "I gave him a reason to keep fighting. And, although I didn't realise it, I actually helped him just as much as he helped me."

Ron was silent while he considered that. He knew Harry valued his friendship, he had only to think of fourth year to know that. Ron knew the burdens Harry carried and he tried to make it easier, even if it was just by stopping people gossiping near them, or making sure he laughed at least once a day. Little things.

"It never seems to be enough."

Slytherin shifted his weight carefully. "It never did to me either. But it seems they see it differently."

Ron looked up to meet his gaze. "Do you think so?"

Slytherin nodded. "I do."

Ron took a deep breath, and slowly released it. "Thanks."

"You are welcome." He straightened up. "Now, do you want to try Apparition again?"

No, was Ron's first thought. But it would help Harry. He squared his shoulders. "Guess so."

Genuine pride blazed in Slytherin's eyes. "Good."

Harry and Hermione both broke into relieved smiles when they returned, and Ron was glad to be able to smile back. His frustration from earlier still bothered him, but he no longer felt jealous. He would do what he could. Hopefully it would be enough. Slytherin nodded to him and then crossed the room to see how Hermione was getting on, leaving Harry free to approach Ron.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Ron assured him.

"Are you sure?"

Ron had to smile. "Mate, I'm fine."

Harry didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "What did Slytherin want?"

"Just checking a few things." He watched the slight form of their teacher, and felt something he'd never thought he would for Salazar Slytherin. "He's not a bad bloke, is he?"

Harry's mouth fell open in mock-surprise. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

Harry laughed, but his expression soon turned serious. "No, he isn't. I actually like him." The last was said with a defiant tilt of his jaw, as if daring Ron to argue, but Ron just nodded.

"I think I might be starting to too."

The wide smile that spread across Harry's face at those words banished the last of Ron's resentment. He clapped his best friend on the back, causing him to stagger slightly.

"Come on, let's crack this. Can't let Hermione get too far ahead."

"Bit late for that," said Harry dryly, but the light of anticipation at the challenge was already dawning in his eyes. Ron allowed himself a smile. They were going to be fine.


Harry didn't know what had passed between Ron and Slytherin, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Although Ron hadn't been openly hostile ever since the Founders explained everything, he had been more wary of Slytherin than either Harry or Hermione. Harry knew it was understandable, Ron had had his prejudices for much longer than them, but it had been making him uncomfortable. Now though, Ron appeared much happier, and Harry only hoped that things would continue to improve.

The lesson continued, and although none of them made any further progress, the atmosphere was far lighter than it had been. Hermione was a little disappointed by her failure to repeat her accomplishment, but Slytherin was quick to reassure her.

"It will take practice before you are Apparate repeatedly," he said. "But you are making excellent progress."

"Yeah," said Ron. "You'll be doing it perfectly in no time." There was no trace of his former resentment in his voice, and Harry had to fight back a smile. Hermione blinked, then smiled at him.

"Thank you. I'm sure you will too."

The tips of Ron's ears tinged pink. "I hope so."

Harry glanced at Slytherin, and the approval on his face left no doubt as to the source of Ron's altered attitude. Harry wandered across to him.

"Thanks," he said quietly. "For what you said to Ron."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "He told you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but whatever it is, it's helped. So thanks."

"It was nothing. I am just glad he is feeling happier." He raised his voice, causing Ron and Hermione to join them. "You have all done very well. We will continue this tomorrow, but for now Godric is waiting for you in the Armoury."

Harry brightened immediately. He loved all his lessons, but Duelling would always be his favourite.

"Are we going to be learning to fight with Muggle weapons?" asked Ron eagerly.

"You will not find out by standing here," said Slytherin lightly. "Go on. I will see you later."

The three of them bowed quickly, and left the room.

"Do you really think we're going to learn to fight with swords?" asked Hermione.

"They said we would," said Harry. "And they will probably want to at least show us the basics before we have to fight again."

Ron's face bore a dreamy smile. "Real swords... This is going to be amazing."

"Very," said Harry fervently. Hermione sighed, but didn't try to argue.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Armoury. Gryffindor was standing by the racks of weapons, and he greeted them with a smile.

"Good, you're here."

Harry couldn't help but be drawn to the gleaming weapons. "Sir, are we going to be using these?"

Gryffindor seemed to consider, his gaze resting on each of them in turn. "Do you want to?"

"Yes!"

Gryffindor looked at Hermione, the only one who hadn't spoken. "Hermione?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Not particularly, but I know that we need to."

Gryffindor nodded. "Good." He turned to face them, and Harry bit back a gasp. Strapped to his hip was a very familiar ruby encrusted silver sword. Ron's mouth fell open, but their questions died as Gryffindor's voice rang out again.

"But first, there are a few things that must be made clear."

Harry tensed. All humour had gone from Gryffindor's voice; now they were not facing their teacher but a battle-hardened warrior. He continued more quietly, his face deadly serious.

"I know that you do not have these weapons in your time," he said. "I know that you are excited. But these weapons are not toys. They are made to injure, and to kill. Until I am sure that you understand that, you will not lay one finger on them."

Harry swallowed, his excitement very effectively tempered. Ron stared at his feet. Both were aware that they had been getting carried away. Hermione alone met Gryffindor's gaze.

"We understand," she said. "We'll be sensible."

Harry nodded. "Very careful," he promised.

Gryffindor's grim expression relaxed a little. "Good. That being said, your first lesson will not involve touching a weapon at all."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

Gryffindor looked round at them. "It is likely that you will encounter armed wizards in future encounters. If so, you are not to engage them unless you have no other choice."

Harry stared at him. "You mean run away?"

"That is exactly what I mean."

"But we're Gryffindors," said Ron hotly. "We can't just run like cowards."

"You can, and you will," Gryffindor snapped.

"But-"

"This is not negotiable. Your lives are more important than your pride."

Ron was still fuming, and Harry didn't blame him in the slightest. They weren't going to run like scared children. Even Hermione was frowning. Gryffindor's eyes narrowed.

"Only someone who is completely confident in their own skill will take a weapon to a battle," he said. "Such an opponent would be beyond you even if they were armed with just a wand. You must not take the risk of engaging them."

"But we may not have any choice," Harry protested.

"That is true," Gryffindor agreed. "There may be occasions when you must fight. But you will not do so if you have any other choice."

Harry wasn't at all happy about it, but it was quite clear that Gryffindor was not about to back down. Reluctantly, he nodded. "All right."

Gryffindor waited until both Ron and Hermione signalled their agreement before he relaxed. "Thank you." He smiled. "Then we shall move on to what to do if you do have to fight."

Harry cheered up a little at that. This was what he had been looking forward to. Gryffindor's eyes twinkled.

"The main point is very simple. Do not let them hit you."

Ron nodded. "Right. Makes sense."

"Indeed, but you would be surprised by how many people make that mistake," said Gryffindor with a chuckle. "In a duel it is very tempting to reduce the distance between you as much as possible so as to increase the chances of your spells hitting, and that in itself is no bad thing. However, it can be a fatal mistake should your opponent be armed with a close-range weapon."

Harry winced at the thought. "So we keep our distance."

"Precisely."

Hermione frowned. "But what if they have long-range weapons too?"

Gryffindor nodded to her. "You raise an excellent point. As you saw the other day, many are also armed with weapons such as throwing knives. Those are harder to detect from a distance, and so you must be on your guard. Losing your concentration, even for a moment, is not a good idea."

Harry nodded. A week ago he would have dismissed the warning as something he would never be so stupid to do, but after the battle a few days ago he knew how easy it was to be distracted, even at the most inappropriate moment.

"Does a Shield Charm work against physical attacks?" he asked.

"It depends on the strength of the charm," Gryffindor replied. "And weapons can be augmented by magic to increase their own destructive capabilities. Salazar, for example, can charm his knives to explode when they hit the target."

"Wicked," Ron breathed.

Gryffindor nodded. "Though he uses it only as a last resort. He dislikes having to replace them after every battle."

"Can we learn how to do that?" asked Harry. Talk about the ultimate surprise attack...

Gryffindor smiled. "Maybe in the future. For now, why don't we stick to the basics?"

He turned to the row of weapons, and Harry felt a rush of excitement. Remembering Gryffindor's words from earlier, he restrained his glee with an effort, but the sudden gleam in Ron's eyes told him that he was not he only one affected. Gryffindor extracted one of them smaller swords and held it up. It was nowhere near as elaborate as Gryffindor's, but the steel blade gleamed in the sunlight as Gryffindor handed it to Harry.

"Here."

Harry accepted it almost reverentially. It was heavier than he had expected, he had to strain to keep the point from touching the floor, but the sheer thrill of holding it was enough to ease the discomfort.

"Wow."

"Merlin," Ron breathed. The sword Gryffindor had given him was longer than Harry's in keeping with his greater height, but his face bore the same delight. "This is so cool! I tell you, every wizard should have a sword."

Gryffindor paused in his search for a suitable weapon for Hermione. "What did I say?"

Ron's ears blazed red. "Sorry. I've wanted to hold one of these all my life."

Gryffindor shook his head, but a small smile touched his lips as he turned back to the rack. "I see." He selected one of the lighter weapons, but then paused. "Are you all right, Hermione?"

Hermione twitched. "Fine, sir." But she made no move to take the sword, and there was no mistaking the distaste on her face.

"What is it?" Ron asked. "Come on, look how cool these are."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "They are not cool."

Harry was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. "Hermione?"

Her reply was so quiet that Harry had to strain to hear it. "I don't know if I can do this."

"What do you mean?" Ron demanded. "It's no different than a Cutting Charm, except that you can still cast other spells at the same time."

"Yes, it is!" Her hands clenched into fists. "I can duel if I have to, but I can't use one of those."

Harry stared at her. He knew it would take some getting used to, but surely she could see how much of an advantage this would be in a duel, especially once they returned to their own time. Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Gryffindor just nodded and set the sword back.

"Very well."

Hermione blinked. "You're not upset?"

"Of course not. This style of fighting is not for everyone. Neither Helga nor Rowena showed the slightest interest in learning, and nor did Hengist for that matter. And Salazar, as you know, has always favoured knives over everything else."

Hermione visibly relaxed at his words. "Thank you. I just don't think I could actually hit anyone with one of those things."

"And it is good that you acknowledge that," said Gryffindor gently. "There is no shame in it."

Harry looked down at the sword in his hands. So caught up in the excitement had he been that it was only just beginning to sink in that he would have to use it. It was a sobering thought; with magic he had the option of stunning, or otherwise incapacitating his opponent, but with a sword? It would injure and it would kill. No more, and no less. Ron's smile faded, and Harry knew he had come to the same realisation. Gryffindor glanced at them, and Harry thought he saw approval in his eyes before he turned back to Hermione.

"There are some alternatives. You could train in the bow, or I am sure Salazar would be happy to teach you to use knives."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Can I think about it a bit more?"

"Certainly. In the meantime, you will still be able to participate in today's training."

Ron frowned at him. "How can she join in when she doesn't know what weapon she wants?"

Gryffindor's eyes sparkled. "Because we will not be using weapons just yet."

"What?"

Harry felt a distinct flicker of apprehension at the smile that spread across Gryffindor's face. "Professor?"

Gryffindor clasped his hands behind his back. "How are the two of you finding those swords?"

Harry grimaced. Cool it might be, but the muscles in his arms were burning from keeping the blade up. "It's heavier than I thought it would be," he admitted. "A lot heavier."

Ron's cheeks were flushed from the strain. "Tell me about it."

Gryffindor nodded. "Try to swing it."

When he was younger, Dudley had gone through a stage of being fascinated by martial arts films. Harry had never been allowed to watch, but he had managed to catch glimpses while doing his chores. Always the hero would charge into battle waving the sword around with one hand, and cutting down anyone and anything in his path. The reality was somewhat different. It took both hands to even lift the thing, and the momentum still sent Harry off-balance.

"Merlin," Ron gasped. He wasn't faring any better than Harry. "This is impossible."

Gryffindor took it from him and hefted it in one hand. "Not impossible." The blade became a silver blur as he ran effortlessly through an exercise. "Just difficult."

Harry gave in and allowed the blade to rest on the floor. "We're never going to be able to do that."

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "We never said this would be easy," he reminded them. "You cannot expect to be able to be able to use such weapons with ease immediately."

Harry looked down. How was he supposed to stick a sword through Voldemort's heart if he could barely lift the thing? Despite all the warnings, part of him had been expecting to be able to pick this up as easily as he had magical duelling, and the reality was an unpleasant shock. Ron too was staring at the floor, his face a mask of depression.

"Can't we just use Feather-Light Charms?"

Gryffindor folded arms. "No student of mine is going to get into bad habits straight away. We will do this properly, or not at all."

"It will get easier with practice, won't it?" asked Hermione tentatively. "They just need to build up some muscles."

"I've got muscles," said Ron indignantly, but he subsided when Hermione raised an eyebrow. Harry had to agree with her; with the exception of the Beaters, Quidditch wasn't exactly a sport known for building muscle mass. Gryffindor nodded.

"Hermione is correct. Over the next few months, we will work our way up to these. We will also be working on your general fitness."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"How did you feel after the battle the other week?"

"Exhausted," Harry admitted. "I'm not used to that much activity." He paused. "Oh."

Gryffindor nodded. "You were only fighting for a matter of minutes, yet you were all drained by the exertion. In a longer battle your fatigue would lead to mistakes, and none of us want that."

"So what are we going to do?" asked Ron warily.

"I have a series of exercises that you will complete each day. It will take time, but it will help."

Harry nodded. He could see how it would be useful, not least for standing up to Dudley, but at the same time...

"Sir," Hermione began. "Exactly what sort of exercises are we talking about?"

The grin that appeared on Gryffindor's face made Harry suspect that this was a very, very bad idea.


"Did you all enjoy your lesson?"

Her tone was light, but the twinkle in Huffepuff's eyes belied her amusement. Harry blinked blearily up at her.

"I think he's trying to kill us."

Ron could only mumble his agreement. Gryffindor had told them that they would start with something easy, but it soon became clear that his definition of easy was not exactly the same as theirs. It had been a gruelling hour of laps and exercises that had left all three of them sprawled on the floor gasping for breath. Gryffindor had been sympathetic, but implacable; they would be doing the same routine every morning from now on. Intellectually Harry knew that it would help, but his aching muscles were not currently inclined to agree with him.

"I know it is hard," said Hufflepuff, "but it will help. Godric insisted on a physical exercise component of the Defence course right from the start, and the students really do find it useful."

Hermione sighed. "At least we'll be a little more prepared for that then."

Hufflepuff patted her on the arm. "It will get easier. Godric knows what he is doing." She looked round at them. "In the meantime, we have other subjects to focus on."

Harry held back a sigh with an effort. While he liked working with Hufflepuff, Healing was one of the hardest branches of magic they were learning. Hufflepuff shot him a sympathetic look before continuing.

"Now that you have learned how to heal flesh wounds, we will move on to something a little more complicated."

"How complicated?" asked Ron warily.

In answer, Hufflepuff flicked her wand. "Broken bones."

Harry stared at the conjured item on the table before him. "And we're learning on actual bones?"

"It is the most effective method," Hufflepuff reminded him. "And it better that you learn on the actual material than be taken by surprise when you come to heal a real injury."

As much as Harry hated to admit it, it did make sense. "What do we do?"

"The technique is similar to that used for healing flesh wounds," said Hufflepuff. "Follow the break with your wand, and use the incantation sarcirentispina. "

Hermione blinked. "Is that all?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought it would be more complicated than that."

Ron too was frowning. "How did that git Lockhart manage to mess this up quite that badly?"

Harry snorted. "Well, he was an idiot, wasn't he?" Hufflepuff raised an enquiring eyebrow, and he elaborated. "I broke my arm playing Quidditch in my second year. Lockhart insisted on 'fixing' it."

Hufflepuff closed her eyes for a moment. "Why can I not see this ending well?"

"Well, technically the bones were no longer broken," Ron pointed out with a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. "They weren't there at all."

Hufflepuff's eyes widened. "He removed them?"

Harry nodded. "Madam Pomfrey was furious. She fixed it though."

"I didn't know that effect was possible," said Hufflepuff. "He really is a remarkable wizard." She grimaced. "Although in his case, that is not exactly a compliment."

Hermione shuddered. "He was one of the worst teachers we've ever had. Not one word," she growled, when Ron opened his mouth.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said quickly. "Furthest thing from my mind."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, but Hufflepuff spoke before she had a chance to. "Well, let us try to avoid that." She waved her wand again and more bones, each with a hairline fracture along its length, appeared on the table. "You will need to concentrate in order to mend the entire break at once, but it will become easier with practice. Give it a try."

It was hard work. Harry found he could do the spell, only for the break to re-open the moment he moved his wand on to the next section. Next to him, Hermione was having similar problems.

"I can only get so far before it comes apart again."

Harry glanced over at her. "You're still doing better than me."

Hermione shot him a small smile. "Not by much."

Hufflepuff crossed over to them. "You need to put a little more power into it," she said to Hermione. "Harry, you appear to be having the opposite problem."

"What do you mean?"

"You are putting in so much magic that the bone is splitting open again. You need to work on your control."

Harry nodded ruefully. This was a lot more delicate than any other magic he had done. "I'll try."

Hufflepuff smiled at him then turned to Ron. "Are you all right?"

Ron nodded, his expression somewhat bewildered. "I think so."

"What is it?"

Slowly, Ron held up his bone. "I think I've done it."

Harry's head jerked up. "What?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's jaw drop. Ron shifted, his ears beginning to turn pink.

"I just did it. I think."

Hufflepuff examined the bone closely then smiled at him. "Indeed you did. Excellent work, Ron."

Harry was still staring at the bone. How had Ron managed that when both he and Hermione were having so much trouble? Then he saw the pure delight that spread across Ron's face at Hufflepuff's words, and felt ashamed of himself. Did he really think he was that much better than Ron? Unbidden the thoughts of the day Ron got his prefect badge came back to him, and his mortification increased. He might be the best at Duelling and Quidditch, but he and Ron were still pretty much equal in everything else. He looked up and forced a smile.

"Nice one, mate."

Ron grinned at him. "Thanks." His smile faltered as he saw Hermione still staring at him, but before Harry could do anything, she seemed to come to her senses.

"That was brilliant, Ron."

Ron's ears went, if possible, even brighter. "Thanks, Hermione."

Harry allowed himself to relax as Hufflepuff gave him an approving smile. His guilt hadn't quite abated, but that had helped. Silently he promised himself that he wouldn't be so arrogant again then Hufflepuff turned to Ron.

"That was very good. We shall now try to heal a full break."

Ron nodded, his blue eyes glinting with determination. "All right. Is it the same spell?"

"Yes. Just do everything you did a moment ago." She tapped the bone with her wand, causing it to split in half. "It will take more power, but see what you can do."

Harry turned back to his own bone. He was going to do this.

They had only been working for another few minutes though when the door swung open. Harry glanced round, and then almost knocked his bone off the table in his attempts to get to his feet.

"Helena? What's wrong?"

Helena didn't even look at him. "That is none of your concern," she snapped as she stalked past. "Aunt Helga, do you have any potions?"

Hufflepuff frowned. "What have you done?"

"I haven't done anything. He has given me a headache."

Hufflepuff sighed, but put her arm round Helena's shoulders and drew her out of earshot. Harry looked back to his work, but he couldn't help shooting them quick glances. What was going on?

"She's fine, Harry," Hermione murmured.

"She doesn't look fine."

Hermione snorted. "Trust me, she is. I'd say she just wants a break."

Harry looked over again. Hufflepuff still held Helena close to her, but the young witch showed none of the discomfort Harry expected. It was easy to see how lose the two of them were, and even more startling to see the crack in Helena's normal icy demeanour. Ron craned his neck to study them.

"I wonder what's wrong with her."

Harry felt a definitely not irrational surge of ager. "Wonder what that git did."

"Harry-"

"What? He must have done something."

Hermione sighed. "Maybe, or maybe it was her. Either way, it's none of our business."

"Just drop it, mate," Ron advised. "You can't get her."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed.

"What? Come on, Hermione, you've seen what she's like. Besides, Gryffindor would kill you if anything happened."

"Shut up," Harry muttered. He knew his chances were practically zero, he didn't need them pointing it out.

"Harry."

Harry's head whipped round. "H-Helena?"

She drew herself up, hands clasped behind her back. "I wanted to apologise for my earlier rudeness. You were only trying to help, and my response was unnecessary."

Harry could only gape at her. This was the first time she had ever initiated conversation with him, let alone actually apologise. Then Ron kicked him, and he hastily rose to his feet.

"Its fine," he managed. She nodded abruptly, and to his dismay began to turn away. "And if you do ever need to talk, well..." His words degenerated into an incoherent mumble. He heard Ron groan, and saw Hermione roll her eyes, but it was too late to take the words back. Helena's lip began to curl, but her expression faltered when Hufflepuff gave a soft cough.

"I will bear that in mind. Good day." She shot a small smile at Hufflepuff and slipped from the room. Harry sank back into his seat, feeling as drained as if he had done Gryffindor's exercises again. Ron grinned at him.

"Well, that went well."

Harry shot him a half-hearted glare before turning to Hufflepuff. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. She sometimes fails to consider other people's feelings."

"Sometimes?" Hermione muttered.

There were several things Harry could have said to that, but he chose instead to ignore her. "Then you don't mind me talking to her?"

Hufflepuff frowned. "Why would I?"

Harry shrugged. "Professor Gryffindor said, well..." He trailed off, but Hufflepuff nodded.

"I see. I would not worry. He gives that particular talk to every male student who shows interest."

Ron stared at her. "All of them?"

Hufflepuff shook her head fondly. "He has known her all her life. He is a little protective." She smiled. "Salazar and I are rather less vocal about it."

Thank goodness for that, was Harry's immediate thought. "You really don't mind?"

"Certainly not. I know you would not hurt her." She studied him for a moment. "In fact, you may be very good for her."

All the weariness and frustration of the day disappeared in an instant. "Really?"

"I do."

Harry would quite happily have spent more time on that particular subject, but Hermione cleared her throat and looked pointedly at the bones on the table. "Professor, I'm still having trouble."

Hufflepuff turned to her, but before she could say anything the door opened again and Slytherin stepped into the room, a heavy cloak folded over one arm.

"Good afternoon." He looked at the bones, then at Hufflepuff. "Good choice."

She smiled at him. "I am glad you think so."

"It's hard," Harry muttered.

Slytherin nodded. "It will take time, but it is worth it. I wish I had learned that particular spell earlier." He glanced at Ron. "You seem to be making good progress."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just got it." He looked down. "Guess you were right."

Slytherin smiled back. "Good."

Harry glanced at the two of them in confusion, but Slytherin had already turned to Hufflepuff. "I will be leaving in a moment."

Hufflepuff sighed, but didn't argue. "Are you still happy to visit the apothecary afterwards?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever known me not to be?"

Hufflepuff rolled her eyes. "Just try not to get too distracted this time."

"I will my best."

"That's what you said last time." Her smile faded. "Are you sure you don't want Godric to accompany you?"

"Dark wizards are always somewhat reluctant to talk in Godric's presence," said Slytherin dryly. "Besides, Zalasta is no threat to me."

"I know that," said Hufflepuff quietly. "But please take care anyway."

"Don't I always?"

Hufflepuff just looked at him. "Would you really like me to answer that?"

Slytherin laughed then turned to the trio. "I will see you this evening."

Harry nodded. "Good luck."

Slytherin smile at him, squeezed Hufflepuff's hand, and Disapparated. Harry stared at the spot where he had stood.

"Do you think he'll find anything?"

Hufflepuff sighed. "We can but hope."

Hermione glanced at her. "Is everything all right?"

Hufflepuff gave a small smile. "Yes, dear."

Hermione bit her lip. "It's just you seem a bit...nervous."

"That is a fairly typical state of affairs where Salazar is concerned," said Hufflepuff. Her smile turned wry. "He has a knack for getting himself in trouble."

Hermione glanced at Harry. "I know the feeling."

Harry opened his mouth then closed it again. That was fair enough really. He glanced at Ron for support only to find him staring at his bone.

"Ron?"

Ron blinked and looked up. "Sorry. Just thinking." He turned to Hufflepuff. "Professor, did Professor Slytherin break his leg when he was younger?"

Huffepuff's eyebrows shot up. "What makes you think that?"

Ron shifted under the scrutiny. "Well, he said he wished he had learned this spell sooner. And if it had healed wrong, it would hurt him, wouldn't it?"

"Excellent reasoning," Hufflepuff murmured. "Yes, a broken bone was the root of that injury."

"Then why can't it just be broken again and re-set properly?"

Harry's heart leapt at the thought, but Hermione frowned. "It can't be that simple. If it was, they would already have done it."

Hufflepuff gave a sad smile. "Unfortunately, she is correct." She hesitated, as if unsure of how much to say, and then continued. "He was young when it happened, and did not yet have full control of his magic."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Accidental magic occurs in response to raw emotion," Hufflepuff explained. "It is ungoverned by normal limits, and can be far more powerful than regular spells. In Salazar's case, his magic responded to the injury by healing it before it could be set properly."

"But that doesn't explain why you can't just break it again," Ron protested. "I know it would hurt, but surely it would be better than this."

Hufflepuff's eyes darkened. "And were that the only consideration, Salazar would have been the first to agree. But it is not that simple. You see, his magic did not just heal that bone. It strengthened it so that that particular injury could never occur again."

Harry stared at her. "What?"

"All accidental magic is powerful," said Hufflepuff quietly. "For someone such as Salazar, who is far stronger than a typical wizard, the effects can be truly extraordinary. That bone will never be broken again."

Harry looked down. He had hoped that it would work. Hermione looked at Hufflepuff.

"How do you know all this?"

Guilt and grief mingled in Hufflepuff's face. "You were not the first one to have that idea."

Harry suddenly felt queasy. He could only imagine how painful that discovery must have been, and not just for Slytherin. Ron looked as ill as Harry felt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Hufflepuff forced a smile and patted him on the arm. "There is no need to apologise. That you cared enough to offer the suggestion is to your credit."

Ron's ears tinged pink. "He doesn't deserve that."

"No," Hufflepuff agreed softly. "He does not."

Harry stared at his bone. He remembered how painful breaking his arm had been, and that had only lasted a few minutes. There had to be something they could do to help.

The answer hit him like a thunderbolt.

"Lockhart."

Ron blinked. "Huh? What does that git have to do with anything?"

Hermione's eyes however had lit up. "Of course! Harry, that's brilliant."

Harry nodded. "It worked for me, eventually. Why not for him?"

Ron stared from him to Hermione and back again. "Wait, you're not seriously considering Vanishing and re-growing the bone, are you?"

"Why not?" He turned to Hufflepuff. "That would work, wouldn't it?"

Hufflepuff hesitated. "The theory is sound. However..."

"What?"

She sighed. "We do not know the extent of the magic in the bone. During our attempts to help, Rowena tried to convert the bone to a less resistant material in order to break it, but all her efforts met with failure. We may have similar problems trying to Vanish it. And even if we do succeed, there is another problem."

Harry's heart sank. "What?"

"I know of no spell or potion that would enable us to re-grow the bone."

"Skele-Gro," said Harry quickly. "It works."

"I'm sure it does, but how do you brew it?"

Harry paused. He had no idea. He looked desperately at Hermione, but she shook her head. "I've never seen the recipe. I'm sorry."

Harry slumped back in his chair. Never had he hated being stuck in the past so much as he did now. In their time they could have gotten hold of Skele-Gro without any problems, but here... "That's it then. It's useless."

Hufflepuff sat opposite him. "I will talk to Salazar. There may be something we can do. But even if we cannot find a way, I know he will appreciate the thought." She looked round at them all. "This will mean a great deal to him."

Harry looked away. "I just wish we could have done more," he muttered.

Huffepuff squeezed his hand. "You have done enough."

Harry knew Slytherin would say the same thing, but he himself didn't believe it. There had to be something more he could do. He shook his head. From what he had seen so far, Slytherin was as good, if not better than Snape when it came to Potions. Maybe he and Hufflepuff would be able to work something out.

Harry sighed and turned back to his bone. he hoped Slytherin got back soon. They had a lot to talk about.


Salazar took care to arrive a safe distance from Zalasta's wards. Zalasta might know and welcome him, but it was impolite, not to mention foolhardy, to breach his defences so casually. Salazar picked his way carefully through the trees until a small cottage came into sight. At the same time, he felt his skin tingle, and knew he had crossed the wards. At least he would not have to announce his presence.

As usual, Zalasta was waiting for him, his bald head gleaming in the sunshine.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten where I lived."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "You could always come and visit me."

"And get cursed into little pieces by those friends of yours? No, thank you."

"They are not that bad," Salazar protested. "Godric did apologise." Eventually.

"All the same, I think I will keep my distance." He turned in to the open doorway. "I suppose you had better come in."

Salazar followed him in and eased himself into his usual seat while Zalasta pottered around the kitchen. For a big man he was remarkably agile, weaving in and out of the tottering piles of books and papers with ease.

"I hear you've been busy."

Salazar shrugged. "No more so than usual." He wasn't about to mention their guests; he could only imagine the chaos it would cause. Zalasta sat opposite him.

"So what incredibly rare piece of Dark magic are you curious about today?"

"What makes you think I've come about Dark magic?"

Zalasta snorted. "Because I know you, and you've got your 'I shouldn't be so excited about this' expression on."

Salazar had to smile. Zalasta was one of the few people, outside Selene and his fellow Founders, who could read him so easily. Then again he should, they had known each other since they were children. It was one of the reasons Salazar had refused to cut ties with him, despite Godric and Rowena's repeated urgings.

"Salazar?"

Salazar took a deep breath. "What do you know about Horcruxes?"

He felt a brief surge of satisfaction at the rare sight of his friend struck speechless. Even for them, this magic was Dark.

"Salazar," Zalasta breathed. "You didn't-"

"My interest is purely academic," Salazar assured him.

"I see." He did not look convinced. Salazar sighed.

"I need to know how to destroy them."

"So you can protect yourself? Sorry," he said quickly when Salazar scowled at him. He turned to rummage through a stack of papers. "I must say Salazar, I never thought you would dare to do it."

Salazar rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored that. "I've read all the original accounts, but I don't have anything more recent."

"That's because no one has tried to make one in centuries. Or at least no one's been willing to admit to it."

Salazar grunted. "They have more sense than we give them credit for."

Zalasta hummed in agreement as he extracted a scroll. "Quite. Well, this one might help. Its relatively recent; it was written about six hundred years ago."

Salazar's hopes rose, that was better than anything he had been able to find. He took the scroll with a nod of thanks, but a quick scan left him disappointed. There was plenty of information on how to create Horcruxes, some of it new to him, but nothing on how to destroy one.

"Not what you were looking for?"

Salazar sighed. "Do you have any ideas on how you would destroy a Horcrux in a living creature?"

Zalasta's eyes narrowed. "Are talking theoretically, or-"

"Theoretically," said Salazar firmly.

"Well, in that case I recommend destroying the host."

"And if you didn't want to kill, or harm, the host?" He tried to keep the tension from his voice, but knew he had failed when Zalasta shot him an odd look.

"Salazar, what have you done? You haven't made one and accidentally got it stuck in one of those friends of yours, have you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Salazar snapped. "I would never do such a thing."

"Then why are you so interested? You have to admit that this is hardly your typical area of curiosity."

"I know," said Salazar quietly. "But can you just tell me if it would be possible?"

Zalasta let out a long sigh. "I do not know. I will make some enquiries and contact you when I know more." His dark eyes bored into Salazar's. "I hope you know what you're doing, old friend."

Salazar gave a wry smile. "So do I." He sighed and rose to his feet. "Thank you for this."

"Leaving already?"

"The students will be returning in a couple of weeks," Salazar reminded him. "There is still much to be done before then."

Zalasta gave an exaggerated shudder. "Rather you than me. So you will be returning to Hogwarts now?"

Salazar shook his head. "I need to place an order at the apothecary first." Rowena would kill him if he forgot.

"Let me guess, Wulfric's?"

Salazar smirked. "How did you guess?"

"Again, I know you."

"Well it is the best."

"True." His smile faded. "Salazar, you need to be careful."

Salazar glanced back, accustomed by now to his friend's abrupt subject changes. "What have you heard?"

Zalasta glanced around warily and leaned closer. "You are aware that the Order has returned?"

Salazar was faintly aware of his grip tightening on his staff, but he forced himself to keep his voice calm. "There have been incidents. We assumed it was only the remnants."

Zalasta shook his head. "This is no splinter group. They truly are back. And he is leading them."

For a long moment, Salazar could only stare at him. That couldn't be true. It couldn't. "That isn't possible," he finally managed to whisper. "He was destroyed."

"Did you ever find a body?" When Salazar didn't answer, he continued. "He survived, and he has spent the past two years rebuilding them. You think they were strong then? You have no idea what they are capable of now."

Salazar didn't reply. He couldn't. He had been aware of the possibility ever since the first attack, but to have it confirmed like this... A hand rested on his shoulder and he flinched away, his body screaming against any contact. Zalasta released him immediately, his eyes shadowed with concern, if not surprise.

"Salazar, you must be careful," he continued quietly. "They will come for you."

Salazar looked away. "And he will not have forgotten me."

"Just as you have not forgotten him. Salazar, Gryffindor might have destroyed his organisation, but it was you, not your friend, who broke him. He has not forgotten, and he has certainly not forgiven."

Salazar glanced at him. "How do you know all this?" He could guess the answer, but he needed time to think.

"Another of my acquaintances. I will see if I can find out more."

Salazar frowned. "Be careful. If they were to find out-"

"They won't," Zalasta assured him. "I am too sharp for them."

Salazar attempted a smile. "And as modest as ever."

"What's the point of modesty? You know it's the truth." His eyes searched Salazar's face. "Just take care. Making new friends is so troublesome."

"I will endeavour to spare you the exertion," said Salazar dryly. "And I do appreciate the warning."

"It was the least I could do. Now, go and get those ingredients before your friends start worrying that I've killed you. I don't particularly fancy a visit from Gryffindor today."

Salazar rolled his eyes. "You are never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Of course I will. One day. Probably."

"Like I said, never."

Zalasta's smirk widened as he followed Salazar to the door. "Oh, I might. Maybe if you can go an entire week without getting yourself into trouble."

"Why is everybody so convinced that I am incapable of staying out of trouble?"

"Well, if the shoe fits..."

"You are impossible," Salazar muttered.

"And yet you continue to visit." He clapped Salazar on the shoulder, and this time Salazar didn't flinch. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, my friend."

Salazar's smile soon died as he made his way towards the edge of the wards. This news was a devastating blow. The Order would have been difficult enough to manage, they already had their own grudge to uphold, but with that man leading them... And involuntary shiver ran through Salazar's body as memories flashed before him. Her blood, unstoppable rage, and then pain, such pain...

With an effort, Salazar wrenched his mind away. There was no point in working himself into a state. They had managed before. The enemy might be stronger, but so were they. And this time they would not underestimate their enemy. That was one mistake they would never make again. Salazar's grip tightened on his staff. The Order wanted revenge, did they? Well, vengeance was hardly limited to one side. They still had plenty to atone for. And they would.

Salazar paused as he stepped outside the wards. Part of him wanted to return to Hogwarts immediately, the others would want to know about this, but his more logical side stopped him. The Order would not try anything in the next hour or so, and he really did need to get those ingredients sorted. This time of year was always busy, and even more so this year thanks to their unexpected guests. The matter of the Order could wait until he returned. Still, there was no point in wasting time. Salazar closed his eyes, and Apparated away.

The village was quiet but for a group of playing children, and Salazar allowed himself to relax. This was one of the few wizarding settlements in the country, and the absence of Muggles never failed to lift his spirits. It was good to be somewhere safe. He followed the familiar path to the apothecary, enjoying the lack of attention. His fame had grown since Hogwarts opened, but he was a frequent enough visitor that no one here took much notice of him.

A familiar mixture of smells hit him as soon as he opened the door, and Salazar had to smile. There were plenty of apothecary's closer to Hogwarts, including one on Hogsmeade, but none had anywhere near the variety available here. Salazar had found it years ago, and had been a frequent customer ever since.

"Good afternoon, Wulfric."

The proprietor nodded to him. "Good afternoon, sir. We've just bought some nice unicorn horn if you're interested."

Salazar froze. Wulfric never dealt with unicorns. Something made his stomach twist, and a quick glance round told him that the shop was deserted. He took a step closer to the counter. Wulfric was staring at the floor, and the tension in his body only increased Salazar's suspicions.

"I have no need of unicorn horn," he said. "But I may require some bicorn eyes." To his relief, Wulfric understood. He raised his head, and his hazel eyes met Salazar's.

For one as practiced as Salazar, silent Legilimency was no hardship. The first thing that struck him was a wave of guilt and fear, and then the memories rushed by.

Working as usual...men entering...threats and curses...demands to wait and delay...

Salazar broke the contact. The entire episode had taken less than a second, but he had seen more than enough.

"But I see you do not have any at present," he continued smoothly. "I will return another day."

Pure relief showed on Wulfric's face as he bowed. "God speed you, sir."

Salazar nodded, but his composure was shaken when his attempt to Apparate away was met with an unexpected obstacle.

"Damn."

It was a set of wards, hastily erected, but powerful. Salazar knew he could disable them, but it would take time. Time he did not have, he realised, as a creak sounded on the floor above him and Wulfric tensed. Salazar glanced at him.

"Hide and keep quiet."

"But you-"

"I will be fine. Go."

Wulfric hesitated a moment longer, then ducked out of sight. Salazar's shoulders slumped momentarily, at least he wouldn't have to worry looking after him, but a heavy footstep on the stairs snapped his attention back to his own predicament. He began to back up towards the door; he had no intention of being cornered in here. He reached out for the wards and grimaced; though not particularly complex, they would take some time to unravel. And considering he was hardly likely to be left in peace while he did so...

Sure enough, Salazar had barely reached the doorway before a dark shape appeared from the store room, and the next thing he knew there was a jet of red light coming straight for his head. Salazar blocked it and retaliated, but the appearance of two more on the stairs made him break cover and run for the relative safety of the street. His leg screamed a protest but he ignored it, choosing instead to seal the door behind him. Shouts of frustration reached his ears, but Salazar had already darted for more cover. No doubt these were not the only ones.

Even as he cast a Shield Charm, Salazar was already attacking the wards. Three against one wasn't impossible, but without Apparition it was certainly more of a challenge. As he did so, he couldn't help but wonder what happened. Zalasta had warned him that they would target him, but he had never thought they would go to these lengths. Apparently, he had been wrong, and if wasn't very lucky it was a mistake that was going to cost him dear.

Salazar was making progress when his concentration was very effectively broken by another spell exploding against his shield. The impact sent him staggering back, and he looked up to find four more approaching from opposite directions. Salazar gritted his teeth. This complicated matters. He was in no shape for a prolonged duel, already his leg ached so much it could barely support him. He needed to get those wards down, but first...

Salazar took a deep breath and launched a blistering assault against his approaching enemies. They fell back again, and Salazar took full advantage of their hesitation. Another attack sent two of them flying back, and the remainder scurrying for cover.

"Stay there," he hissed.

Salazar couldn't bring himself to take any satisfaction from the minor victory though. The absence of anyone investigating the disturbance told him that there were more of the Order present, and it would not be long before they arrived on the scene. He still hadn't dealt with the wards, and there was no path of escape, and very little chance of victory. Not for the first time, Salazar recognised that he was in very real trouble.

Fortunately Godric, displaying levels of paranoia that had made Salazar proud, had prepared for this very possibility. Salazar channelled his magic, and felt the ring that lay hidden on right hand burn in answer. Hope returned, and he attacked the wards with renewed ferocity, ignoring the spells that crashed against his shield. He would not be taken by these people. Not again. The wards came down, and he felt triumph blaze up in him at the victory.

That was when the curse caught him in the back and sent him flying through the air. Ribs bent and snapped under the impact, and stars exploded before his eyes as his head cracked against stone. The wizards from the shop, his mind supplied fuzzily. should have seen... Then he hit the ground and the world dissolved into pain.

Chapter 14: Truth

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry suppressed a yawn with a considerable effort. It wasn't particularly late but after all that physical training on top of their regular lessons he was already looking forward to a good night's rest. After a good meal of course.

"I'm starving," Ron muttered as they entered the Great Hall.

"What a momentous occasion," said Hermione dryly.

"You are too."

Harry tuned out the bickering. He loved his friends but they really could be exasperating. Instead he scanned the room. Helena, to his complete lack of surprise, was absent, as was Edmund. The other students seemed to have chosen to eat down in Hogsmeade again, and the only other person missing...

"Professor Slytherin isn't here."

Ron and Hermione paused their arguing long enough to look around.

"He must not be back from visiting his friend," said Hermione.

Ron frowned. "He's taking quite a long time."

Harry didn't answer. The memory of the fear in Hufflepuff's eyes was suddenly very vivid. If something had happened... He was woken abruptly from his thoughts when Ron nudged him.

"You know he can take care of himself."

Harry forced a smile. "Yeah, you're right." The battle a few days ago had more than proven that. Shaking the thought from his mind, Harry followed Ron and Hermione across to where the rest of the Founders were sitting. Gryffindor smiled at them.

"Ah, there you are. Have you recovered?"

Ron pulled a face. "I don't know if that's possible."

Gryffindor's eyes twinkled. "Don't worry. A few weeks of this and you'll find it easy."

"I don't know if I'll survive one week, let alone several," said Hermione wryly.

Ravenclaw smiled at her. "You will. For now though, you can relax."

Harry took a seat next to Hufflepuff. "No sign of Professor Slytherin yet then?"

Hufflepuff shook her head. "Not yet, but it is not unusual for the two of them to lose track of time. They do not see each other often."

"Thankfully," Ravenclaw muttered.

Hermione glanced at her. "Is he really that bad?"

"He is tolerable," Ravenclaw allowed. "But he is not the sort of person one would prefer to associate with."

"You should, however, bear in mind that she once said the same thing about Salazar," said Gryffindor. His grin only widened at the disparaging look Ravenclaw shot him, but the expected retort never came. Instead, Harry watched in surprise as all three of them drew in a sharp breath.

"Is everything-"

"Salazar," Hufflepuff gasped.

Harry's head shot up. "What-"

"He's in trouble," Gryffindor snapped. His left hand closed about his right, a gesture Harry saw that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were mimicking, but his attention was caught by the words.

"How do you know?"

"We took precautions," said Ravenclaw. "Could Zalasta-"

"Salazar could handle Zalasta," Gryffindor interrupted. "But he did say he would visit the apothecary afterwards."

Hufflepuff closed her eyes for a moment. "The apothecary everybody knows he visits."

"Precisely." He turned to the trio. "We will be back shortly."

"Wait," Harry began, but it was too late. "All three Founders disappeared, leaving Harry and the others standing alone. Ron stared after them open-mouthed.

"Where did they go?"

"To help," said Harry quietly. He pushed back his chair and stood up. "Come on."

Ron dropped his knife with a clatter. "What? Where are we going?"

Harry had already started moving. "To the infirmary," he called over his shoulder. "That's where they'll be when they get back."

He just hoped Slytherin would be with them, and in one piece.


People who did not know Godric always made the same assumption. They assumed that he lost his temper quickly and charged into situations without considering the consequences. To a certain extent they were right. Godric did have a quick temper, and it took very little to stir him up. But those who let their emotions rule them did not often live to see old age. Godric had learned long ago that anger, though a useful tool, must be controlled.

So when he realised that his brother in all but blood was in danger, he did not immediately succumb to thoughts of vengeance. Godric took the anger, controlled it, and used it, so that when he Apparated to the apothecary and saw Salazar slumped against the opposite building, one hand clenched against his head, the other fumbling for his wand, he was able to react calmly and logically.

By blasting his closest attacker through a wall.

"I'll take the two on the left. You handle the other pair."

"Understood," Helga growled. Her wand was in her hand and her expression murderous.

Rowena looked equally grim. "It would be a genuine pleasure."

Godric did not like wasting time. His curses were flying before they had even finished speaking. Terror dawned on his opponents' faces, but any pity in him had died at the sight of Salazar's blood. There was no need to hold back to look after students now; all he had to do was fight.

Godric was good at fighting.

It wasn't a fair match. Godric was more than capable of defeating two opponents even on a bad day, and anger only leant strength. But five against one hadn't been fair either. Godric blocked a curse without batting an eyelid, and his retaliation sent one of his attackers crashing to the floor. He didn't get up. His other opponent recognised the danger; he threw a series of spells designed to delay, but Godric had no intention of letting him escape. Salazar wasn't the only one who could use Apparition in duels. One well-aimed curse to the back and the second wizard hit the floor.

Godric straightened and turned to see if Helga or Rowena needed assistance, but there was no need. They might not enjoy duelling, but that didn't mean they couldn't do it. Hurting Salazar was the perfect way to prove that.

A faint smile touched Godric's lips. Ron had mentioned that Helga was seen as the least dangerous of the four of them, and hadn't understood why Godric had burst out laughing at the thought. She might not like causing pain, but injure her loved ones… Even as Godric watched, a Cutting Curse sent blood spurting from her opponent's thigh, moments before his wand went flying through the air. Godric winced; a healer was the last person you ever wanted to get on the wrong side of.

Rowena was also more than living up to expectations. She was the weakest duellist of the four of them, lacking the ruthlessness that even Helga possessed, but her encyclopaedic knowledge of spells helped to compensate. She had a knack for using basic spells in unique ways, or else using such rare, or original, spells that they enemy never knew how to counter them. Her opponent currently sported wings instead of arms, making retaliation somewhat problematic. Godric had to smile. She was glorious.

"Godric!"

Helga's cry broke him from his thoughts, and he spun to see her hurrying to Salazar's side. Godric's stomach lurched.

"Salazar." He ran forwards and dropped to his knees next to him. "How bad is it?"

Salazar blinked blearily up at him. "Godric…"

"I'm here," said Godric soothingly. "We all are." He had to fight to keep his voice from shaking; he had seen Salazar hurt plenty of times before, but this was the worst it had been for a long time. Salazar's hand brushed his sleeve.

"Godric…listen…"

"Not now," said Godric. "We need to get back to Hogwarts."

"No…he's back…"

Godric stared at him. "What? Who?"

"Not dead," Salazar mumbled. "He's not – ah!" His back arched and he let out a low hiss.

"Salazar?" Salazar only hissed again and Godric turned frantic eyes to Helga. "What's wrong with him?"

Helga's wand was racing over Salazar's body and her face was very grim. "Three fractured ribs. The splinters were driven forwards. There's some internal bleeding." She looked up at Godric, her eyes dark with barely controlled fear. "I need to stabilise him before we can risk taking him back."

It took all Godric's years of experience to fight back his fear at those words. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not with this," said Rowena. She was kneeling opposite Helga, her wand flicking in complimentary patterns. "We will see you back at the castle."

It was a clear dismissal and Godric knew better than to argue. He had plenty of experience with basic healing, but with something like this he would only be in the way. Salazar caught his eye as he rose, but when he opened his mouth his words were interrupted by a low moan as his body convulsed.

"Stay still," said Helga. Her voice was gentle but very firm. Salazar subsided immediately, but Godric saw how his fists tightened convulsively and had to turn away. He hated this more than he could even begin to describe, but there was nothing he could do.

Not dead…

Despite the warmth of the day Godric suddenly felt very cold. If Salazar was talking about who he thought he was… But that was impossible. No one could have survived that.

But no one else would plan something like this. No one else would come so close to succeeding.

Godric took a deep breath. There was no point in worrying over a possibility. He would wait until Salazar could confirm or deny it. And then…

His gaze fell on the two surviving attackers and a predatory smile spread across his face. It was a good thing after all that the witches had been unable to kill them. Someone was going to pay for this.


"Where are they?"

Harry had never been very good at waiting. Given a dangerous situation and he would react without hesitation, but when there was nothing to do but sit around he found it much harder to cope. And when someone he cared about was in danger...

"They haven't been gone long," said Hermione. "Just give them a bit more time."

"Why don't you sit down, mate?" Ron advised. "All that pacing's just going to make your legs ache more."

Harry ignored both of them. "Do you really think Slytherin's in trouble?"

Hermione sighed. "They seemed to think so."

Harry's hands clenched into fists. "Why didn't they take us with them? We could have helped."

Ron stared at him. "Are you mental? If they were good enough to cause Slytherin trouble, what good do you think we'd be able to do?"

"It's be better than sitting around here doing nothing," Harry shot back.

"Slytherin wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "Besides, now that they're all there, I'm sure they'll be back in no time."

Harry just grunted. He knew that Gryffindor alone was more than capable of dealing with the threat, never mind when accompanied by Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but he was simply incapable of sitting still when others were in trouble. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron and Hermione exchange a long look, and he had to bite back a sharp retort. They didn't deserve his temper. He reached the wall and whirled round again, but before he could begin again the silence was broken by a sharp crack.

"Professor Gryffindor!"

Harry started forwards, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Gryffindor's expression. All traces of geniality were gone as if they had never been there. Harry drew back. The man in front of him was a warrior, a killer, but even more disturbing was the complete lack of emotion in his eyes as he pushed two unconscious men to the floor.

"Move away, Harry."

Harry didn't even think of disobeying. Both men were bound, and bore clear traces of having come off worse in a fight. Gryffindor levitated them over to the wall and dropped them, heedless of causing further injury. Hermione looked like she wanted to protest the rough treatment but, like Harry, the pure danger radiating from Gryffindor was enough to check her. Ron swallowed.

"Um, Professor? What's going on?"

Gryffindor twitched, started from his contemplation of the fallen men, and Ron took an involuntary step back. Gryffindor's expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained hard. "They made a mistake. One that will cost them."

Not even after the battle in Hogsmeade had Harry seen him like this. He could think of only one thing that could provoke such a reaction. "Sir, is Professor Slytherin all right?"

He knew his guess was correct when Gryffindor's jaw clenched, but Gryffindor was spared from answering by another loud crack. Harry whirled round and his mouth fell open.

Slytherin was on his feet, but his face was ashen, and he was leaning far too heavily on Hufflepuff for Harry's liking. Hufflepuff too was pale, and Harry's stomach lurched as he saw that her green dress was stained with blood. Ravenclaw stood next to them, her face like stone, and Slytherin's wand and staff in her hands. Barely had they reappeared before Hufflepuff was ushering Slytherin to the nearest bed.

"Be careful. We don't want to aggravate anything. Rowena, I need potions."

"Professor," Harry began, but Gryffindor gripped his shoulder.

"Not now."

There was no arguing with that tone. Harry watched in rising dismay as Ravenclaw set Slytherin's staff carefully against the wall and Summoned a bunch of potions, even as Hufflepuff began waving her wand in silent patterns over Slytherin's body.

"What happened?" Ron whispered. His freckles were suddenly very prominent against his pale face. "Is he all right?"

Gryffindor gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He will be."

Hermione frowned, and Harry was hard-pressed to hold back his own scepticism. Slytherin's eyes were closed, and his face was drawn with pain.

"But what happened?" Ron demanded. "What did they do?" The last was said with a jerk of his head towards the unconscious prisoners.

"He was ambushed," said Gryffindor quietly.

Harry looked at the men, then at Slytherin and back again. "How many?" There was no way two were capable of this.

Gryffindor scowled. "He killed two. I killed three more."

Harry swallowed. Seven against one. No wonder Slytherin was in such a bad state. Hermione however, was staring at Gryffindor.

"You killed them?"

Gryffindor met her gaze, and in the end it was she who had to look away. "This is war. He had no choice. And I was...upset."

Harry made a mental note to never ever get on Gryffindor's bad side. He'd rather take an angry Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape all together than have that rage and ruthlessness focused on him.

"Good," said Ron viciously.

Hermione glared at him, but Harry looked at the blood on Hufflepuff's robes and couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the deaths. The intensity of the thought made him pause, since when had he been that cold? He shivered. They were learning more than magic from the Founders, they were learning how to win a war. Harry couldn't say he was entirely comfortable with it, but he kept silent. This was hardly the time for that particular debate. Hermione had evidently had the same thought, for she pursed her lips but didn't argue further. Gryffindor looked at the pair of them and sighed.

"Some threats cannot be ignored," he said. "In battle you do not always have the luxury of taking prisoners." His gaze flickered to the prisoners. "Fortunately, Helga and Rowena had other tactics."

Harry frowned at him. "Fortunately? What are you going to do?"

Gryffindor's smile was one of pure menace. "They will be answering a few questions for us." His fists clenched. "We need to know if they are planning any more such attacks."

Any protests Harry might have made died at those words. "Do you think they will?"

"Without a doubt. And next time we might not get there fast enough." His expression darkened. "We were barely in time today."

"How did you even know what was happening?" Hermione asked. "You didn't receive a message, but you all seemed to know something was wrong."

"We did," said Gryffindor simply. He held up his hand. "With these."

Harry blinked. On Gryffindor's middle finger lay a thick silver band. It had no stone, but carried a number of intricate carvings. That wasn't the confusing part though.

"How did we never notice that before?" Ron demanded.

Gryffindor gave a slight shrug. "You were not supposed to. It is a simple enough spell." He looked at it. "We have discovered that it is better to be prepared."

"Are those Runes?" asked Hermione.

Gryffindor nodded. "Rowena and Salazar created the spell together. Activating one causes the others to activate simultaneously."

"Fascinating," Hermione breathed. "We have something similar in our time. I never knew it was first developed here."

Harry had noticed the similarity too, but he was more interested in Gryffindor's words. "So you've all got one?"

Gryffindor inclined his head. "It seemed like a sensible precaution." He grimaced. "Though Salazar does seem to get more use out of his than anyone else does."

"You are hardly one to talk," said Ravenclaw dryly. Her attention was still on Slytherin, but she looked up long enough to give Gryffindor a small smile.

Harry's attention however was on Slytherin. He was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, and he looked, if possible, even worse than he had previously. Cold dread settled in the pit of Harry's stomach; there was more to this than they were being told. He missed the pointed look that passed between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and so started when Gryffindor's hand rested on his shoulder.

"Come, Harry. Let's give them some privacy."

Harry wanted to protest, but he saw the way Hufflepuff's face was drawn in concentration, and knew that there was nothing he could do. Casting one final look back, he allowed Gryffindor to guide him gently, but firmly from the room.

Surprisingly, it was Ron who broke the silence. "What else is going on?"

Gryffindor released Harry's shoulder and tilted his head back. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"That doesn't answer the question," said Harry flatly. "How bad is it?"

Gryffindor studied him for a long moment, but Harry refused to look away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ron and Hermione, both looking pale, but equally determined to find out the truth. Eventually Gryffindor gave a long sigh.

"Stubborn children." There were more resignation than genuine anger in his voice as he looked round at them. "How much has Helga taught you about internal injuries?"

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Hermione paled. "Nothing, but I've read things at home..." Her voice trailed off.

Gryffindor sighed. "The direction of the impact may have caused more damage than we initially thought. It is treatable, but it will take him some time to recover."

"Are you sure?"

"She has treated him for much worse in the past," Gryffindor assured them.

From the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces that news wasn't quite as reassuring as Gryffindor ha intended, but another thought came to Harry. "Were they waiting for him?"

Gryffindor nodded. "It looks that way." His eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask?"

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't. Slytherin had only left the castle to help him. If Harry hadn't been so persistent about getting the Horcrux removed, then Slytherin wouldn't have had an opportunity to be hurt.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to find Gryffindor staring at him, and the open concern only made Harry feel worse. How could Gryffindor be worried about him when this whole mess was his fault? "He wouldn't have been hurt if he hadn't left the school," he whispered.

Ron frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Irritation suddenly rushed through Harry; why were they all being nice when this was all his fault? "He only left because I asked him to."

"Harry," Hermione began, but Harry couldn't stop.

"I asked him to go to see his friend, and he did and they were waiting for him, and this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't kept going on about this stupid Horcrux."

"I think you're allowed to be worried about the Horcrux, mate," said Ron.

Harry glared at him. "This isn't funny! He could have been killed."

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite finished?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

Gryffindor sighed. "Hard as it may be for you to believe, Harry, but not everything is your fault," he said dryly.

"How is can this not be my fault?" Harry demanded. "I asked him to talk to his friend."

"As I recall, he offered," Gryffindor corrected. "Besides, the actual attack did not take place at his friend's home."

Harry paused. "What?"

"We asked Salazar to place an order for new ingredients with the apothecary after he was finished," said Gryffindor. "It is there that he was ambushed."

"But how did they know he was going to be there?" asked Hermione.

Gryffindor shook his head. "We do not know yet. However, he has used the same apothecary for decades, and he makes frequent trips. It is not unreasonable to assume that they were keeping a watch for him." He fixed Harry with a sharp gaze. "He would have visited there at some point in the next few days. That he happened to do so after dealing with your request was simply a matter of convenience."

Harry didn't reply. When it was explained that way, his previous words didn't make a lot of sense. Ron rolled his eyes. "Mate, you really need to stop blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong."

Harry stared at the floor. "Well, usually I'm right." Everyone he cared about always ended up getting hurt.

"Oh not this again," said Hermione in exasperation. "Harry, you might be rush into things, but it's our choice to follow. "

"Yeah," said Ron. "Don't go taking credit for our mistakes."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched involuntarily at that. "Right."

Gryffindor shook his head. "They have a point. None of us had even considered blaming you, and I can assure you that Salazar certainly will not. These things happen."

Harry shivered. The matter of fact tone made the words seem all the more chilling. How could anyone be used to things like this happening? Hermione paled at the reminder, and Ron shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Gryffindor sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We did warn you that these are people unlike any you have encountered before."

Harry looked down. "We know. I guess we just weren't expecting them to be so daring."

"Nothing was ever gained with caution." He frowned. "Do not the Death Eaters of your time act in a similar way?"

"Not at the moment," said Ron. "At the moment nobody believes that he's back, so they're avoiding any big attacks." He sighed. "It was different during the first war."

Gryffindor nodded. "And it is likely then that he will return to that strategy once he has built up his forces."

"And with the way the Ministry's going, it'll be too late for anyone to do anything about it," Harry growled.

"Voldemort isn't stupid," said Hermione quietly. "He knows the situation is different from the last time, and he isn't going to make the mistakes he did then either."

Harry's fists clenched. He had been so preoccupied with the Founders and all their enemies that he had almost forgotten about Voldemort. The reminder was a sobering one; no matter how much they might learn here, Voldemort was still someone they couldn't hope to defeat, at least not by themselves. And without the support of Fudge and the Aurors, Harry honestly didn't know how they were going to manage. The Order would fight, and fight well, but there simply weren't enough of them to stand against Voldemort, and his Death Eaters and whatever other allies he might find.

Harry shook his head, wrenching his thoughts away from that subject. There was nothing they can do about Voldemort except learn all they could, and they were already doing that. They would be better prepared. Of course, it would help even more if Slytherin recovered... No. He would be fine. He would teach Harry everything he had promised, and he would help Ron and Hermione, and when they got back to the future they would show everyone just how wrong they had been.

But, try as he might, Harry couldn't suppress the fear that Slytherin's injuries might prove too much for even someone as skilled as Hufflepuff to handle.

"Harry."

Harry looked up to meet Ron's gaze. "I'm fine," he said automatically.

Ron just sighed. "Of course you are." After a moment he added more quietly, "He will be too."

Harry shot him a half-hearted glare, but he couldn't find it in him to be annoyed. He was almost touched that Ron knew him that well. He glanced at Hermione and saw exasperation mingled with fondness in her gaze, and knew she had guessed his mind too. Gryffindor glanced between them, the slightest trace of a smile touching his lips.

"I would listen to him," he said gently. "Helga knows what she is doing."

Harry opened his mouth but, as if on cue, the door swung open and Ravenclaw stepped out. Her face was very pale, but she gave them a small smile. "He's going to be fine," she said gently.

It was exactly what Gryffindor had been telling them from the start, but Harry's knees still shook from the relief that rushed through him. Part of him had been sure that Slytherin's condition, especially with the more primitive medicine available to them, might be more serious than they had thought. From the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces they felt much the same way, and even Gryffindor's shoulders slumped at the news.

"Good." He straightened up, the weakness hidden as quickly as it had come. "It wasn't as bad as Helga thought then?"

Ravenclaw shook her head. "Some of the bone splinters had come loose and there was some internal bleeding, but Helga's gift was enough to fix that." She grimaced. "He won't be moving very much for a few days, and he has a splitting headache, but he is going to be all right in time."

"Can we see him?" Harry asked.

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw exchanged one of their long looks, the ones that always reminded Harry of how Fred and George would seem to communicate without even speaking. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were that close. He forced his mind away from the distraction as Gryffindor turned to them.

"You will not excite him." It wasn't a question, but all three of them shook their heads vigorously.

"We'll be quiet," Ron promised. "We're used to hospitals." He caught himself in time to keep from glancing at Harry. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw exchanged another look, but to Harry's relief neither of them commented. Instead, Ravenclaw beckoned them forward. Heart pounding, Harry stepped inside.

He was momentarily taken aback by how normal everything looked. They had only been gone about fifteen minutes, but Harry had somehow expected there to be signs of the healers' struggles, bandages, blood, anything. But the room was as clean and tidy as he had ever seen it. Harry gave himself a mental shake. Of all the times to develop Aunt Petunia's penchant for cleanliness. Recognising the delaying for tactic for what it was, he turned to the bed where Slytherin lay.

It was at the same time better than he had hoped and worse than he had feared. There was no blood, only clean white bandages wrapped around his head, with more showing at the neck of his fresh shirt. But no bandages could disguise the bone grey pallor of Slytherin's skin or the deep lines of pain etched into his face. Despite his visible exhaustion, Slytherin gave a small smile at their entrance.

"Ah, there you are." His voice was hoarse, and he had to stop for breath before continuing. "I apologise for worrying you. That was not how that was supposed to go."

"We never would have guessed," said Hufflepuff dryly. She was drying her hands on a fluffy towel, and though she too smiled at them, her drawn face told them just how draining these events had been. Slytherin inclined his head ever so slightly at her words.

"Indeed."

Harry took a deep breath and took a step closer, but found he had to fight back a shiver; Slytherin only looked worse closer up.

"It looks worse than it is," said Slytherin quietly.

Hufflepuff muttered something under her breath. Harry couldn't catch the words, but the expression on her face conveyed her feelings more than adequately. Gryffindor sighed.

"It never is." He sounded very tired but Harry still had to supress a shiver at the darkness in his eyes. Slytherin's paltry attempt at a smile died completely.

"There is nothing more to be done about it."

Gryffindor's gaze flickered to the two bound prisoners still lying against the opposite wall. "Oh, I don't know about that."

Hermione swallowed. "So you're really going to...to..." Her voice trailed off.

Gryffindor's face was like stone. "We will do whatever it takes to protect this school."

This time Harry couldn't stop his shivers. He had heard Gryffindor say that before, had heard all of them say it in fact. It was only now, after seeing their reactions to the attack and listening to Gryffindor's words, that he genuinely believed them. Looking round now Harry saw the same resolution on each of their faces. Even Hufflepuff, gentle Hufflepuff who had always been the most sympathetic towards them, currently looked like one of the last people Harry ever wanted to be on the wrong side of.

"We will indeed," said Ravenclaw quietly. "But that particular task can wait a little longer." There was no mistaking the distaste in her eyes.

Gryffindor nodded. "Agreed." If he saw her reluctance he made no mention of it, turning instead to Slytherin. "Rest. We will discuss this later."

Slytherin's face twisted into a grimace, but he nodded. "Thank you."

Gryffindor's hand rested on his shoulder for a brief moment. "Any time." He looked at Harry and the others. "In the meantime, I think we all need to eat."

He was right, and Harry realised with a start that he was starving. Hufflepuff nodded. "I'll stay here. You all go on down now."

Harry hesitated, but Slytherin's breathing was becoming harsher and Harry doubted he would want them to be around for this. "Get well soon," he said quietly. He just had time to see Slytherin give him a small smile before Gryffindor led them from the room again.

The food was as good as ever, but Harry couldn't manage more than a few mouthfuls. The terror, and his lasting concern, made that impossible. He knew perfectly well that Slytherin was fine, but the fact that he had been attacked in the first place made him sick to his stomach. The others, even Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seemed similarly affected, and only Ron was able to finish his food. Gryffindor looked at them and gave a small smile.

"I apologise for that. Such a thing has not happened in some time."

"Do you think it will happen again?" asked Harry quietly. He kept his eyes on his half-full bowl, unwilling to see the answer in Gryffindor's eyes, but the long sigh he received was enough.

"They will try. But whether they will succeed is another matter entirely."

Harry looked up. Gryffindor's knuckles were white, and there was no trace of doubt in his voice. Ravenclaw took his hand in hers. "We will make sure of that."

Gryffindor's flinty expression softened, and he gave her a small smile. "I know."

Ravenclaw smiled back and then released his hand. "I should speak to Helena. She is likely to have realised that something is wrong by now."

Godric nodded, but before he could reply there was a crack and Hufflepuff appeared. Harry looked up, but his question died on his lips at the expression on her face. "Professor?"

Exasperation was the predominant expression on Hufflepuff's usually cheerful face. "That man is going to be the death of me."

Harry shot an alarmed look at Ron and Hermione, but Gryffindor just sighed and pushed a bowl in front of her. "What did he do?"

She glared at her food but made no attempt to eat. "He said I shouldn't be so concerned about 'a little bit of bleeding'."

"He trusts you," Ravenclaw pointed out gently.

"I know, and he knows that, but he still needs to be careful and he needs rest." She rubbed wearily at her eyes. "You know how he is after an injury."

Harry stared at them. "What's going on? Is something wrong with him?"

Ravenclaw grimaced. "No more than usual."

That explained exactly nothing, so Harry turned to Gryffindor. The warrior sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Salazar is not the best of patients."

Hufflepuff snorted. "That, my friend, is the understatement of the century."

Harry blinked. He had never seen Hufflepuff like this before. She was so perpetually good-tempered that he and Ron had speculated whether it was even possible for her to get angry. To find out that she was was rather disconcerting. But, looking at the pallor of her skin and the deep frown lines on her face, Harry found he couldn't blame her in the slightest. Hufflepuff caught his eye and sighed.

"I am sorry."

Ravenclaw squeezed her hand. "We understand," she said gently. "And you know that Salazar means nothing by it."

Hufflepuff's smile held no trace of humour. "I suppose I should after all this time."

Gryffindor pushed her bowl closer to her. "You need to eat." His tone brooked no argument. "I'll talk to Salazar."

Harry bit his lip. While he recognised that Slytherin needed rest to fully recover, he also understood how maddening it was to be trapped in the hospital wing. "Is there anything that could distract him? That doesn't involve danger and Dark wizards?"

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow. "Are you volunteering?"

Harry opened his mouth then paused. "I suppose I am," he said quietly.

"Harry," Hermione gasped. Ron just gaped at him, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw exchanged bemused looks. Gryffindor merely leaned back in his chair, his green eyes locked on Harry's.

"It isn't an easy job," he warned. "Are you sure?"

Harry shrugged. "I can be just as bad."

"Do you want us to come?" asked Ron. There was genuine concern in his eyes, but Harry shook his head.

"I don't even know if he'll want me there."

"He will," said Gryffindor firmly. "But he would prefer fewer people, at least to start with."

Ravenclaw nodded. "I am sure he would appreciate visitors in the morning."

Both Ron and Hermione looked slightly relieved at that, not that Harry could blame them. Slytherin did sound like the patient from hell. But Slytherin had been there for him when he had been feeling low. The least Harry could do was return the favour.

"What's he doing now?" he asked.

"He said he was going to try to rest," said Hufflepuff. "Which means he will do nothing of the sort." She let out a long sigh and the tension seemed to drain from her body. "He only said it so I would take a break."

"He knows you just as well as you know him," said Ravenclaw. For a moment it looked like she would say something else, but in the end she contented herself with just patting her friend's arm. Gryffindor seemed fascinated by the goblet he twirled between his fingers. Hermione watched the interaction with a slight frown on her face, and Harry was glad to see that Ron at least looked as lost as he felt. Shaking his head, he rose to his feet.

"I'll go and visit him now."

Gryffindor glanced at him. "If you need one of us, just call," he said. "Hogwarts will alert us."

Harry nodded, unable to suppress his relief. He had never dealt with anyone as badly hurt as Slytherin had seemed to be by himself. Or anyone as troublesome as Slytherin was likely to be for that matter. "Thanks."

"Thank you for doing this," said Hufflepuff quietly.

Harry looked away. "It's the least I can do."

He found Slytherin in a chair next to his bed, his hospital robe replaced by a dark green one and a decidedly mulish expression on his face. His eyes widened slightly as Harry entered. "Is everything all right?"

Harry just looked at him. "That was going to be my question."

Slytherin gave a very careful shrug. "A little sore in places. Nothing serious."

"You had broken bones and internal injuries," Harry protested. Not even he would have classified that as not serious.

"Had," Slytherin emphasised. "Helga is very good at what she does."

Harry nodded. "She told me you were trying to get some rest." He tried to keep his voice neutral but it was hard. As far as he knew, getting out of bed was not considered restful.

Slytherin looked away. "I've rested enough."

"Right," said Harry slowly. He didn't even try to hide his scepticism.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "I know my capabilities."

"That's what I always say," Harry muttered. Now he understood why Madam Pomfrey always got so exasperated. Slytherin's eyes narrowed and Harry decided it was time to change tack. "Professor Hufflepuff was upset."

Slytherin's glare faltered at that. "Oh."

Harry nodded. "She was worried."

"She always is," said Slytherin quietly. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion clear to see. "This always happens."

The words were so quiet Harry had to strain to hear them. "Er, Professor?"

Slytherin shook his head. "Never mind." He fell silent, staring broodily out the window at the rapidly darkening grounds. Harry shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do next. He hadn't known what he was doing when he offered, and realised ruefully that he still didn't. This was all too different.

"I hate this place."

Harry wrenched his attention back. "So do I. I don't think anyone likes it."

"No one with any sense anyway," Slytherin muttered. He scowled and pushed himself to his feet. "I need to get out of here."

"Er, is that a good idea?" He regretted speaking almost immediately as Slytherin's eyes flashed.

"This room is suffocating." After a moment he added more quietly. "I have never liked being trapped, and that is what this place feels like."

Harry understood that too well to try to argue. "Where do you want to go?"

The gratitude that flashed in Slytherin's eyes erased any doubts he might have felt about the venture. "I would normally visit Issa, but under the circumstances, that might not be the best plan."

Harry wanted nothing more than to agree. The Chamber was the last place he wanted to go, but he recognised the desperate, almost haunted look in Slytherin's eyes. So he nodded. "The Chamber's fine."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure? Your last visit was far from pleasant."

Harry forced the memories from his mind with an effort. "This might make up for it then." He attempted a smile. "As long as nothing tries to kill me, I'll be fine."

Slytherin studied him for a long moment. "Remarkable," he said quietly. Harry opened his mouth to question that when Slytherin's eyes unfocused, and Harry knew he was communicating with his fellow Founders though Hogwarts. After a minute he shook his head. "Helga is not pleased, but she agrees that it might do some good."

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Hufflepuff had learned her patient's tendencies very early on. Slytherin gave a small smile and held out his arm. "We will Apparate there, unless you have any objections."

"Fine by me," said Harry fervently. "I didn't much like that bathroom."

Slytherin frowned at him. "Bathroom?"

"Yeah. You know, the one with the entrance."

"The entrance is located in an unused side chamber," said Slytherin slowly. "I certainly wouldn't place it in a bathroom."

Harry paused. That made sense, but... "Then how did it get there?"

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "It appears someone has a sense of humour." The last was directed not at Harry, but at the surrounding walls.

Harry's eyes widened. "You think Hogwarts did it?"

"There are likely to have been structural changes as modern technologies developed," Slytherin pointed out. "And she has more than enough magic to adapt to them."

Harry nodded slowly. He had wondered ever since arriving how the Chamber had been so conveniently connected to the bathroom that certainly wasn't present now. The castle would have had to have changed with new plumbing innovations; it only made sense that it-she would adapted to it. Though the thought that it was capable of such a thing was mind-boggling. Slytherin, however, was still frowning.

"A bathroom," he muttered. "Of all the places it could have been."

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. "Sliding down the pipe really wasn't fun." He and Ron had burned their robes after that. The house-elves certainly didn't deserve to deal with that.

Slytherin looked at him. "You slid down the pipe."

"Well, yeah. What else were we supposed to do?"

Slytherin placed both hands on his staff, his expression unreadable. "Harry, do you really think I would design a chamber that you could only reach by sliding down a pipe?" He looked very pointedly at his leg, and now it was Harry's turn to frown.

"No, but..." His voice trailed off. A thought had just occurred to him. "You mean-"

"You do speak Parseltongue, do you not?"

"You mean all I had to do was ask for stairs?"

Slytherin's eyes sparkled. "I'm sure your way was more entertaining."

Harry closed his eyes in mortification. "Please don't mention this to Ron." He would never hear the end of it."

Slytherin chuckled, but broke off with a muffled hiss as his body protested. Harry took an involuntary step closer. "Sir?"

Slytherin gave a tight smile. "Nothing to worry about." He straightened up slowly and held out his arm. "Are you ready?"

Harry was beginning to doubt the wisdom of this particular course of action, but he could guess how well any argument would be received. Taking a deep breath, he took Slytherin's arm. "Yes, sir."

Slytherin gave him a small smile and then the world dissolved into a now-familiar vortex of colour and pressure. As usual Harry staggered slightly on landing, but this time was surprised to find Slytherin swaying too. He tightened his grip automatically but carefully avoided looking at him. After a moment Slytherin relaxed, and Harry released him.

"Thanks, sir," he said quietly. "I don't think I'm ever going to get the hang of that."

Slytherin smiled at him, properly this time. "I know you will."

Harry ducked his head, taken aback by the genuine fondness in his eyes. Instead, he looked around. The chamber was much as he remembered, with enormous pillars reaching to the ceiling and numerous carved serpents, though there were no signs of wear on either, and no traces of flooding. At the end of the room stood the statue. Harry stared at it, at the ancient face and long beard, and then at Slytherin, slender and clean shaven, and looking to be in his fifties at most.

"I'm not really seeing the resemblance."

"I would be worried if you could considering that that is my grandfather," said Slytherin dryly. "Godric did suggest using my likeness, but we eventually agreed on a compromise." He gave the statue a critical look. "He may have exaggerated some of the features."

"Why your grandfather?" asked Harry.

Slytherin gave a slight shrug. "He was the one who first explained to me what I could do. He died when I was very young."

Harry nodded, but his attention was diverted when he saw Slytherin's grip tighten convulsively on his staff. "Professor?"

Slytherin shook his head. "Never mind." He began to walk towards the statue. "Issa's chamber is located past there. We soon discovered that she preferred a less open space."

Harry swallowed, but followed him. "I remember her coming out from the statue when I was here." Despite his care he couldn't quite keep the tension from his voice. Being back in this place was bringing back more memories than he had expected. Slytherin glanced back at him, his eyes narrowing.

"We do not need to disturb her. She spends most of her time asleep at the moment." A fond smile touched his lips. "Not that that is surprising. She is growing even faster than I expected."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Thanks."

Slytherin sighed. "I am sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," said Harry firmly. "You couldn't have known what Voldemort would do."

Slytherin set his lips, but he didn't argue. Instead he turned down a side passage. "This way then."

Harry followed, glad to be away from the main chamber. "I never went down here."

"I am glad," said Slytherin quietly. "We wanted a place to store some of our more valuable possessions." He gave a forced smile. "A Basilisk is quite an effective guardian."

"Even better than a three-headed dog," Harry agreed.

"Indeed." His expression darkened. "I hope that Voldemort did not find it, but if he was as intelligent as you say he was then it is unlikely he only made a cursory search."

Harry frowned. The thought of Voldemort touching something the Founders deemed precious was not a pleasant one. "I'll investigate when we get back," he promised.

Slytherin inclined his head. "Thank you. Here we are."

They had stopped outside an elaborately carved wooden door. Harry was expecting more Parseltongue, and so was surprised when Slytherin merely set his palm against the wood. "The others also needed to be able to access it at will," he explained at Harry's questioning look. "There are wards tuned to our magical signatures." On cue, the wood beneath his hand blazed silver.

Harry nodded. "I really need to learn how to do that."

"I would be more than happy to teach you," said Slytherin. He pushed open the door, and Harry followed him inside.

The room was very similar to the antechamber that Harry and the others frequented so often. It was comfortably furnished and surprisingly cosy; the walls were hung with tapestries, and at a gesture from Slytherin a small fire sprang up in the grate. Harry's attention however was drawn to the shelves around them.

"These are all yours?"

Slytherin nodded. "Heirlooms mostly." Barely concealed relief flashed across his face as he eased himself into a chair, and his voice was less strained when he continued. "And some mementos Godric and I collected on our travels."

Harry tore his gaze from a jewel encrusted dagger with an effort. "What do they all do?"

"It varies. Some heal, some harm." He nodded at the knife. "That particular knife has the unique ability to kill vampires."

Harry stared at it. "That must be worth a fortune."

"Hence why we keep it down here." He nodded to a necklace on the next shelf. "In contrast, that item forces the wearer to speak in rhyming couplets until it is removed."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

Slytherin nodded. "It was a gift from a grateful scholar. Though personally I think he was just trying to get rid of the thing."

"Why is it down here?" Harry asked. It didn't look particularly valuable, and he couldn't see how rhyming couplets could be dangerous.

To his surprise, Slytherin appeared embarrassed by the question. "Helga and Rowena insisted."

Harry sat down opposite him, his interest successfully diverted. "Why? What happened?"

Slytherin coughed then pulled a face. "Godric and I found some rather entertaining uses for it. Helga and Rowena did not agree."

A slow smile spread across Harry's face. "I think I can see where this is going."

"It may have escalated when a couple of my students discovered its properties."

Harry had to laugh. "That must have been brilliant."

"We thought so," said Slytherin with a smirk. "Unfortunately, we were outvoted."

"How can you be outvoted when there are two of you and two of them?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "We are taking about Helga and Rowena. Let us just say that the consequences would not have been pleasant."

Harry only laughed harder. It seemed some things would never change. Slytherin leaned carefully back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched. Eventually Harry pulled himself together enough to look round again.

"So, does Issa come in here?" As nice as the room was, it was hard to relax when he knew that there was a giant killer snake on the loose.

"On occasion," Slytherin replied. "But not when we do not wish her to."

Harry allowed himself to relax a little more at that news. "Thanks."

Slytherin's smile faded. "It is the least I could do."

Harry scuffed at the floor with his trainer. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I just can't help remembering."

"Perfectly understandable," said Slytherin equally softly. "I have not been comfortable around dragons for a long time." His grip tightened on his staff. "It is hard to imagine her doing something like that."

"She couldn't help it," Harry insisted. "Voldemort was the one who forced her to do those things."

Slytherin looked away. "I know. But it is yet another thing of mine that he has taken and twisted into something that it was never meant to be."

The genuine bitterness in his voice made Harry frown. "Yeah, but it's not your fault. You never did anything to make people think you hate Muggle-borns, right?"

He was expecting an instant agreement, and so was startled when Slytherin looked away. "Professor?"

Slytherin let out a long sigh. "I wish that was the case?"

Despite the warmth, Harry suddenly felt very cold. "What do you mean?"

Slytherin turned back, and though his face was expressionless, there was no disguising the pain in his eyes. "I lost everything to Muggles, Harry. Do you think I could simply forget that?"

Harry stared at him. "But you said all wizards should be taught magic. Were you lying?"

"No," Slytherin hissed, and the vehemence in his voice made Harry pause. "An untrained wizard is as much at risk as a trained one, but unlike them, they have no way to defend themselves from that threat." His grip tightened around his staff. "I have seen too many murders to ever countenance leaving Muggle-borns to fend for themselves."

"Then why all the hostility?" Harry demanded. "If they need training, then what does it matter who their parents are?"

"Of course it matters," Slytherin shot back. "How many Muggles would happy to send their child to a school to learn magic? A magical parent would welcome the opportunity, but the Muggles? Half of them believe they are condemning their children to a life of sin, and the other half are too foolish to think even that far." He took a deep breath, and when he continued his voice was calmer. "And then there are those who are so militant that they would not hesitate to use the opportunity to further their cause."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Slytherin sighed again. "Do you know why, before Hogwarts, most wizards would refuse to take on a Muggle-born apprentice?"

"I didn't know they did that," said Harry honestly. "I guess it was that stupid idea that Muggle-borns are inferior." He didn't even try to hide his contempt for that thought.

"There may be some with that opinion," Slytherin allowed. "The majority, however, were motivated more by caution than bigotry."

Harry said nothing, waiting for Slytherin to continue. His voice was soft, but carried easily in the silent chamber. "About fifty years ago, wizards were starting to become more open to the idea of having Muggle-born students. It was still rare, and most would prefer a child from a magical family, but it was starting to become more common."

"Good," said Harry firmly.

"Indeed it was, and most Muggle-borns were happy to take advantage of the opportunity." His expression darkened. "But there were exceptions."

Harry swallowed. "What happened?"

Slytherin stared straight ahead of him. "A Muggle-born entered into service with a wizard under the agreement typical of the time. He remained there for a year, learning everything he could about magic, and his master and fellow students. At the end of the year, he left without warning."

There was a long pause. When Slytherin continued his voice was colder than Harry had ever heard it. "He returned in the dark of the night with a group of villagers. They took them by surprise. The master, and three students, all under the age of twelve, were murdered."

Harry felt like he had been punched in the chest. He couldn't reply, couldn't think. How could anyone do something like that?

"Gaining your enemy's trust in order to destroy them has been a standard tactic of war for centuries," said Slytherin quietly. "And make no mistake, some Muggles do see this as a war."

Harry had to fight back a swell of nausea. Learning about witch burnings in the 14th century had been treated as a bit of a joke, a complete waste of time on the part of stupid Muggles. They had never learned about the centuries prior to that, when Muggles had been a genuine threat, and secrecy had truly been a matter of life and death. Slytherin turned again to meet his gaze.

"That is why Muggle-borns are feared. They are thrown into our culture without choice or warning. Many want nothing more than to return to their old lives." He rubbed his eyes, and the strain of the day showed clearly in his drawn face. "I knew Hogwarts was too strong to be assaulted like that. We were too strong. But our students... Not all of them live here. They would be vulnerable. I could not risk putting them in danger."

The words were enough to jolt Harry's dazed brain from its shock. "But they need training," he insisted. "You said that yourself. What were you going to do?"

"I had thought to open a separate school, one that would be for Muggle-borns only. It was not intended as a slight," he said quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth. "The fact remains that Muggle-borns are at a disadvantage when they come here, not only because they know nothing of magic, but because most of them cannot even write their own names. If they were taught separately, they could be sure of getting the attention they need." He paused. "And, of course, there would be no risk to other students."

Harry scowled. He understood the point Slytherin was trying to make, but he still couldn't say he agreed with it. "Then what changed? Why did you agree to let all the Muggle-borns come here?"

Slytherin sighed. "Godric and Rowena disagreed. They believed that separating the students like that would only lead to further division, and I did come to understand their reasoning." He hesitated. "And there was Helga."

Harry shot him a quizzical look. "What does Professor Hufflepuff have to do with it?"

For the first time, Harry saw Slytherin actually look uncertain. "She was the first Muggle-born I had ever really known, as opposed to speaking to in passing. And she was nothing like I expected." His eyes seemed to lose their focus, and his voice was more distant when he spoke. "She was nearly killed for doing nothing more than using her gift to help other people, yet she never let that stop her. She had every reason to hate us for separating her from her family and her old way of life, but she chose to learn everything that we could teach her, and then went on to learn even more. She embraced her magic and its potential, and she never once gave us reason to doubt her."

As Harry listened, he felt everything becoming clear. The clues had been there all the time, every time the two of them spoke in fact. Hufflepuff was open enough for even a boy like him to read, but Slytherin had always been an enigma. Until now. Now he understood. Slytherin looked up then, and the expression on his face cemented Harry's suspicions once and for all.

"We gave her a chance, and look what happened. It only seemed right to give others the same."

Harry nodded. "And what do you think now?" He thought he knew what the answer would be, but he wanted to hear it from Slytherin's own lips. From the raised eyebrow he received, Slytherin seemed to realise that but he answered readily enough.

"I will always be wary of Muggle-borns. I cannot help that. But I will never stop them from learning magic, or from associating with those who do. They are wizards, just as we are and, despite what certain parties might have us believe, there is no evidence to suggest that Muggle-borns are in any way inferior." He gave a wry smile. "In fact, I suspect the opposite may be true in terms of strength."

Harry smiled at him. "Right." His smile faded and he looked down. "I'm sorry for earlier."

Slytherin shook his head. "I understand. Actually, I thought you responded with considerable restraint."

"Thanks. I still don't get why you didn't just tell us all this in the first place."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "You were having a hard enough time believing us as it was. Would telling you that I really did mistrust Muggle-borns have helped?"

"I guess not," Harry mumbled. He and Ron, and probably even Hermione, would have had problems with that.

Slytherin sighed and looked away. "In any case, it is of no consequence now."

"I know," said Harry quietly. He wasn't completely happy about only just learning the truth, but he did understand the reasoning behind it.

"Good."

Harry frowned at the slight scratch to his voice. "Sir? Is everything all right?"

Slytherin gave a somewhat forced smile. "Well enough."

Harry looked at him, taking in his pale skin and far too stiff posture. "I'm not sure Professor Hufflepuff would agree with you, sir." He was sure that that would cause protests, and so was startled when Slytherin's smile turned wry.

"Probably not," he agreed. He stretched and grimaced. "I think it may be time for us to return."

"Yes, sir." He tried to hide his relief, but knew he had failed when Slytherin rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"It is not so bad down here, is it?"

Harry considered. The main chamber still held far too many memories for comfort, but this room was to interesting to be avoided. "No," he admitted.

"I am glad to hear it. There are a number of others that are similar to this."

"You'll have to show me some time," said Harry. Preferably when he wasn't on the verge of collapsing. From the look Slytherin shot him, it was clear he could guess what Harry had refrained from saying.

"Gryffindors," he muttered.

Once Harry would have protested that. Now he just grinned as he took Slytherin's arm. "Would you want us any other way?"

Slytherin's reply was lost in the roar of Apparition, and the next thing Harry knew they were back in the infirmary.

"Not exactly what I had had in mind," came Hufflepuff's dry voice. "But he is conscious and not bleeding, so thank you, Harry."

Harry had to smile at that. "No problem."

Hufflepuff smiled back, but it faded as she turned to Slytherin. "How do you feel?"

Harry had to fight to keep from fidgeting at the slight coolness in her voice, but Slytherin met her gaze steadily. "Terrible."

Hufflepuff's expression softened immediately. "Sit down then. And maybe this time you'll stay put." Harry was only mildly surprised when Slytherin did so without protesting. Hufflepuff caught his eye. "Some people never learn."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

Hufflepuff's eyes sparkled. "Of course not." She shook her head. "No wonder the two of you get along so well."

Slytherin glanced at Harry, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Your company was appreciated." He looked at Hufflepuff and his smile faded. "I am sorry that I made it necessary."

Hufflepuff smiled at him, properly this time. "I know. As I was reminded earlier, I should be used to it by now."

Slytherin ducked his head. "You should not have to be."

Hufflepuff reached out and tilted his chin so that he was looking at her. "Salazar, I know you," she said firmly. "And you should know me better than that too."

Slytherin held her gaze for so long that Harry had to look away. Any doubts he might have had about their feelings were gone now; the tension in the room was almost tangible. He began to wonder if he should leave, and was just on the verge of making an excuse when Slytherin gave a slight cough.

"I do." He cleared his throat. "Do you know if Godric has spoken to the prisoners yet?"

Hufflepuff shook his head. "Rowena convinced him to wait until he had calmed down a little."

"Very wise of her," Slytherin murmured. "Particularly since I would like to be there when he does."

Hufflepuff's eyes darkened. "You want to do what?"

Harry decided that that was his cue to leave.

The Great Hall was deserted, and he eventually found the others in their favourite antechamber.

"There you are, Harry," said Gryffindor cheerfully. "Did you enjoy your little trip?"

He certainly seemed in better spirits. Harry nodded as he took a seat between Ron and Hermione. "More than I expected, thanks."

"And how is Salazar?" asked Ravenclaw.

Harry grinned. "When I left he was trying to tell Professor Hufflepuff that he needed to help interrogate the prisoners."

Ravenclaw rolled her eyes. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Because you've known him for more than ten minutes?" Godric suggested.

Hermione stared at them. "But he can't really be thinking of doing something like that so soon, can he?"

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw just looked at each other. "Yes," they chorused.

"He did say he hated sitting still," said Harry.

"But this isn't even that important," Hermione protested. "It's not like they're going to try anything so soon after this."

Harry nodded in agreement, but to his surprise, Gryffindor's expression turned grim. "I would not put it past them."

Ron frowned. "Are they really that dangerous?"

Gryffindor scowled at the floor. "If what Salazar told me is correct, then they may be even more so."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

Ravenclaw shook her head. "It is not important."

Harry had to bite back a choice comment. It wasn't the first time they had heard about this mysterious incident, and certainly not the first time that the topic had been disregarded. He didn't know what was going on, but he was getting tired of the secrecy. "Surely if they're going to try again we should know about it," he said. "The more we know about them the better, that's what you keep saying."

"He's right," said Hermione. "We want to help, and we need to know what's going on."

Gryffindor frowned at them. "I thought we agreed that these people were too dangerous."

"But you agreed that we needed practise," Ron pointed out. "We're not going to go chasing after them by ourselves, but we can help you out. We did before, didn't we?"

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed, but his glare faltered when Ravenclaw laid a hand on his arm. "It might be better if we do tell them," she said quietly.

Gryffindor paused. "Explain."

Ravenclaw took a deep breath. "It will not be long before they start hearing the rumours, particularly once the students return."

Gryffindor's eyes widened slightly. "I see."

"Better they get the truth from us than a distorted version from others," said Ravenclaw softly.

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, and was glad to see they looked as lost as he felt. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seemed oblivious to their presence.

"Salazar won't like it," said Gryffindor.

Ravenclaw's reply was equally quiet. "I know. But they need to know what these people are capable of."

Gryffindor was silent for a long moment. "We will need to talk to the others."

"Of course."

Gryffindor rubbed a hand over his face. "They're really not going to like it." But his tone was one of resignation, not argument.

Ron stared at them. "You'll really tell us?"

Ravenclaw fixed him with a sharp look. "If the others agree."

Harry didn't even try to suppress his smile. He knew Slytherin well enough to know that he wouldn't keep anything from them that might keep them safe. Finally they were going to get some answers.

Chapter 15: Shadows of the Past

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Salazar took the idea about as well as Godric had expected.

"Absolutely not."

Godric sighed. A night's sleep, and more attention from Helga, had done wonders for his friend's injuries, but not his mood. "Salazar-"

"No."

Godric saw Harry, Ron and Hermione exchange startled looks, and bit back another sigh. They may have underestimated the strength of Salazar's feelings on this particular matter.

"They are going to find out sooner or later," Rowena pointed out. "You know we have never been able to stop the older students telling the young ones. We cannot keep it a secret."

Salazar remained stubbornly silent. His face was completely blank, but he couldn't hide the white-knuckled grip he had on his staff. Godric ran a hand through his hair, but before he could say anything Helga leaned forwards to lay a hand on Salazar's arm. "I do not like this any more than you do," she said softly, "but Rowena is right. They are certain to hear rumours when the rest of the students return." She sighed. "And if they are to continue to help us, then they need to know what these people are capable of."

Godric silently applauded her. If anything was likely to penetrate Salazar's reserve, it was the last point. "It's not fair to keep this from them," he added.

Salazar's eyes flickered to the trio, and Godric saw concern war with pride in his face. He was silent for a minute, then rose abruptly to his feet. "Godric."

Godric stood, and followed him to the door. "We will return shortly," he said quietly to Rowena. She gave his hand a brief squeeze.

"Good luck."

Godric managed a small smile. He was going to need it.

Salazar didn't speak as they wandered through the deserted corridors. Godric didn't try to demand answers; he had learned the futility of that approach decades ago. Instead he just matched Salazar's step, and waited for his friend to gather his thoughts.

"Do you really want to do this?"

Godric grimaced, but that one had been inevitable. "No," he admitted. "But I meant what I said. We cannot ask them to put themselves in danger when they do not understand the true extent of the risk involved."

"Of course not," Salazar snapped. "But do they really need to know all the details?"

Godric shot him a sharp look. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Salazar's lips thinned, and he looked away. "That is a matter of opinion."

"No, it is your opinion, and one that none of us share." Memories flashed before his eyes, and his hands clenched into fists. "May I remind you that you are not the only one who made mistakes that day?"

Salazar came to a halt, his eyes finally finding Godric's. "It is not the same. At least you were able to fight."

"And you didn't?"

Salazar didn't reply. He was once again staring at the floor, and Godric knew the early autumn chill wasn't the only reason for the shivers wracking his body. Godric sighed, his anger fading as quickly as it had come. "We will not fight over this again," he said softly. "You do not have to be there."

Salazar's shoulders slumped. "No." He took a deep breath, and looked up to meet Godric's gaze. "They need to know."

Godric had always valued courage in his students. It was no coincidence that Salazar had been the first of them. "Thank you."

Salazar just sighed and turned back the way they had come. "Can we just get this over with?"

Helga and Rowena were not the only ones looking concerned when they returned, but no one was foolish enough to say anything. Salazar slumped into his seat without making eye contact with anyone, leaving Godric standing in the middle of the room. He had expected that; there were limits to what Salazar would be willing to do, and Godric certainly wasn't going to make Helga do it. He took a deep breath and looked at the trio of time travellers.

"You wanted to know why the Order seek our destruction," he said quietly. "We are telling you because you need to understand what these people are capable of before you commit yourselves to the fight against them."

"We're not going to change our minds," Harry insisted. "We said we'd help, and we will."

"Do not be so quick to say so," said Salazar, before Godric could open his mouth. "Wait. Listen. Then decide."

Ron frowned. "Okay, but Harry's right. It's not going to make a difference."

The words were almost enough to make Godric smile, especially when Hermione nodded her agreement. It was easy to see why these three had been sorted into his house. "We will see." He looked at Rowena and Helga. Both were very pale, but they nodded. Salazar was still refusing to look at him, but Godric hadn't expected anything else. He ran a hand through his hair and faced the trio.

"It was two years ago," he began. "Hogwarts had been receiving students for about a decade. We were doing well; our early students had left and were flourishing, and we had established a good reputation. We had won over our critics, and Hogwarts was beginning to be accepted by wizards across the country."

Despite the circumstances, Godric couldn't keep the pride from his voice. The time travellers were used to Hogwarts being one of the foremost magical schools in the world. They could hardly imagine the obstacles the four of them had had to overcome in order to make it so.

But that was a story for another time.

"As Hogwarts was established, our individual reputations also grew. If someone was injured, or ill, Helga was the one they would come to. Rowena was frequently asked for advice regarding new fields of magic. And Salazar and I, well..."

"You kept yourselves busy," said Rowena dryly.

Salazar snorted softly, but didn't comment. Godric grimaced. "As you know, we long ago offered our services to those who needed them. When that summer saw an increase in such incidents we thought nothing of it."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He, at least, should have known better. Rowena glared at him. "We have discussed this," she snapped. "We had no reason to think there was anything wrong."

Godric glared right back. "I should have known better. I was trained for this-"

"Enough," Salazar growled. The flames flickered in the sudden breeze as his fierce grey eyes met Godric's. "What is the point of this?"

Godric opened his mouth, then closed it again. Rowena looked at the floor. Helga glanced between the three of them and took a deep breath. "I agree. Blaming ourselves now will not help."

Godric was well aware of that. He also knew it was easier said than done, but he bit back the urge to say so. Glancing round he saw that Harry was looking anywhere but at the four of them, and Hermione was on the very edge of the sofa, her brown eyes wary. Ron caught his eye and coughed.

"So they were doing the same thing they're doing now? Lots of smaller attacks to wear you down, I mean."

"That's right," said Godric. He sent a approving smile in the boy's direction before wrenching his mind back to the story. "The attacks were always small, never more than half a dozen, but they occurred all over the country and there were no common features. We failed to make the connection."

"They really thought it through," said Hermione quietly.

Godric nodded grimly. "They were very clever. Are...are very clever." He shook his head. "They spent a long time watching us, and a long time preparing. They knew exactly what they were doing."

Godric paused, both for breath and to collect himself. This next part would not be easy to tell. Salazar still wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, but Rowena caught his eye and gave an encouraging nod. Godric took a deep breath.

"There was a fortnight where no attacks took place. We did not understand the reason, and although we were grateful for the reprieve we doubted that it would last. We used the time to prepare as best we could."

"We had some allies," Helga explained. "And some of our older students were determined to help, though we all agreed that that was to be a last resort." She shot a pointed look at the trio, who exchanged slightly sheepish smiles. Godric, though, could find no humour in the situation. It was all he could do to keep his voice level.

"We were all expecting another attack. When word came that one was in progress, I did not wait for Salazar, but left immediately." He drew in a steadying breath, but couldn't bring himself to meet anyone's gaze. "There were more than usual. I was expecting Salazar to join me, but, well..." He coughed and shook his head. "I was successful, but it took time, and I knew...I knew something was wrong."

"What happened?" Harry asked. His face was very pale, and his eyes were darting between Godric and Salazar, who looked like he was trying to burn a hole in the floor.

Godric opened his mouth, but grief and guilt choked the words in his throat.

Godric straightened slowly. He ignored the bodies lying around him, instead concentrating on sucking air into his burning lungs. He was uninjured, but two weeks of peace had left him slow. Daily sparring with Salazar wasn't the same as a life and death battle.

Speaking of Salazar...

Godric's grip tightened on his wand, his aching muscles forgotten. He had left the moment he had heard the news, but not before asking Hogwarts to alert Salazar. His friend should have been only seconds behind him; Salazar certainly wouldn't have ignored anything like this.

Except that wasn't true. There was one circumstance that Salazar would abandon everything for.

Godric Apparated back so fast he almost splinched himself.

It wasn't fast enough.

"Uncle Godric!"

Godric spun round in time to catch the young girl who threw herself into his arms. Small arms wrapped around his neck, and Godric hugged her back as tightly as he dared.

"It's all right, Helena," he murmured. "It's all right, I'm here." He stroked her dark brown hair, and reached out lightly with his magic. To his relief, she was unharmed, though near out of her mind with distress. Godric bit back the flow of questions with an effort; Helena was in no state for an interrogation.

"Professor Gryffindor!"

Godric looked over the top of Helena's shaking head to see William, a thirteen year old Slytherin, come to a stop next to him. The boy's face was ashen, but, like Helena, he was uninjured, and Godric felt light-headed with relief. It looked like their students, at least, had avoided the worst of it.

Not that he knew what the worst actually was.

"William," he murmured. "What happened?"

William shook his head. "I don't know, sir. I was by the lake with Edric and Mary, and then..."

"Go on," said Godric gently. He could feel Helena's shaking subsiding as he continued stroking her hair. William swallowed and visibly pulled himself together.

"Professors Slytherin and Hufflepuff appeared. They told us to get inside, and stay with Professor Ravenclaw, then they Disapparated." He looked down. "We were all in the Great Hall, but we could hear fighting. And...and screaming..."

"All right," said Godric. He gave William as warm a smile as he could. "Thank you." Gently, he pulled Helena away so he could look her in the eye. "Helena, where is your mother?"

Helena swallowed back another sob. "In the Infirmary. Someone was hurt."

Ice pooled in the pit of Godric's stomach, and it took all his strength to keep his voice steady. "Helena, I need you stay with William until your mother is finished." He glanced at William, and received a nod, before looking back at Helena. "All right?"

Helena nodded. Godric watched approvingly as she straightened up, drawing on the self-control Rowena and Salazar had instilled in her. "Yes, Uncle."

Godric leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead. "Good." He stood up and looked down at the pair of them. "I will be back soon. Keep everyone calm, and don't let anyone go outside." He had no doubt that the older students would be doing just that, but it wouldn't hurt for the others to hear it from Rowena's daughter. The responsibility would help Helena to focus too; she was more like her mother than she liked to admit.

Sure enough, Helena dashed the last of the tears from her eyes, and raised her chin defiantly. "Go. We will be fine."

Godric smiled at her, ruffled William's hair, and Apparated to the Infirmary without another word.

Time seemed to stop as Godric took in the blood. On the floor, on the walls, and far, far too much staining Rowena's green dress brown.

But none on Helga. Helga, who lay so still and pale that for a heart-stopping moment Godric was convinced she was dead. Only the faint flicker of her magic, and the almost imperceptible rise of her chest, kept him from breaking completely.

Instead, he stepped up to Rowena's side. She was trembling, and flinched when he reached out his hand. There was only pain in her eyes as she looked at her best friend, and her normally gentle voice rang harshly in the silence.

"Where were you?"

A light touch on his arm broke Godric from the memories, and he looked down to see Rowena standing beside him. Her dark eyes were shadowed with both her own ghosts and sympathy for his, and when she spoke, it was quiet enough that only Godric could make out the words.

"They do not need to know the details." She squeezed Godric's hand, and turned to the trio before Godric could get his mouth to start working. "Salazar has always been the most paranoid of us. The messenger was one of them, the attack a mere diversion. We had just enough time to summon the students inside. I remained with them, while Helga and Salazar dealt with the intruders."

Her voice was as calm as if she were giving a lecture, but she still hadn't let go of Godric's hand. Helga's clasped hands were shaking in her lap, and Salazar could have been made of stone for all the emotion he showed. Godric glanced at time-travellers, and saw growing apprehension mingling with the fascination in their faces.

"Helga was injured," Rowena continued, and this time she couldn't keep a slight quaver from her voice. Helga flinched, and Godric was relieved when Salazar silently reached over to take her hand. "Salazar brought her back to the Infirmary, where I was able to help."

Hermione's face had completely drained of colour. Helga caught her eye and forced a smile. "Rowena is very good at healing spells. It could have been much worse."

"It was bad enough," Salazar growled. Both Harry and Ron started at the sound of his voice, but Helga just sighed.

"I was fine."

Salazar's scowl darkened, but he said nothing. Harry looked between the pair of them, a growing frown on his face as his eyes came to rest on Salazar. "What...what happened next?"

Salazar looked away. "I lost control."

"There was so much blood," Rowena whispered. "I couldn't... She nearly..." She broke off with a shuddering gasp. Godric threw caution to the winds and pulled her into his arms.

""But you did," he insisted. "She will live and she will be all right."

Rowena said nothing, but her arms wrapped around him in return. For a moment Godric allowed himself to make absolutely sure that she was all right, but there was one more thing he had to know.

"Rowena," he murmured. "Where is Salazar?"

Rowena stiffened, and drew back to look him in the eye. "I do not know."

"But-"

"He was the one to bring her back," Rowena said.

Godric's heart clenched. Salazar loved all of them, would die for any of them, but Helga... Rowena shivered. "He was so angry, Godric," she whispered.

Godric swallowed. "I will find him." He released her, but continued to hold her gaze. "I am so sorry."

Rowena frowned, but Godric was already gone.

Godric reappeared just outside the main doors. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced it to one side; there would be time enough for that later. Instead he closed his eyes.

'Where is he?'

The response was instantaneous, but accompanied with such crushing grief that Godric's knees buckled. 'He was last on the northern border, near the old oak.'

No...

No. No time to jump to conclusions. Godric took the picture Hogwarts sent and disappeared.

The clearing was completely silent. Dappled light fell through the oak leaves, painting the numerous bodies gold. The fresh scent of summer mingled with the metallic stench of blood, and Godric felt his stomach churn. Evidence of blasting and cutting curses surrounded him, and overlying the whole scene was the acrid hum of Dark magic. Godric looked closer, and his heart sank as he realised that not all the bodies were in one piece.

Salazar hadn't just killed Helga's attackers. He had annihilated them.

But of Salazar himself there was no sign.

Godric drew in a deep breath and tried to think clearly. Salazar might have pursued the remaining intruders beyond their borders. Godric was very aware of how single-minded Salazar could be, and it was unlikely he would be considering the risks.

But even mad with rage Salazar wouldn't leave Helga. And he wouldn't leave Rowena to deal with the aftermath alone.

Godric scowled as his foot came down on a stick. He moved to kick it away, then paused. No sticks were that polished. Or that familiar.

Mouth bone dry, Godric pulled out his wand and cast a silent Summoning Charm. Several more splintered pieces of wood flew through the air to land in a pile at his feet, and Godric felt light-headed. He recognised the patterns carved into the wood, he had seen Salazar play with them often enough.

And Salazar certainly wouldn't, couldn't, have gone chasing after anyone without his staff.

Only one thing remained, to be absolutely certain. Wand shaking, Godric cast another spell.

He caught the two wands on instinct, and with them all the guilt and rage and terror that he had been holding back for so long. Godric's knees buckled and he hit the floor, heedless of the bodies surrounding him, of Hogwarts' shared grief ringing in his mind, of everything but one single, horrifying truth.

Salazar was gone.

Godric couldn't suppress a shiver. That day had easily been one of the worst of his life. From the way Rowena's grip tightened until it was almost painful, he knew she was remembering too.

"I wish you had not," said Helga softly.

Salazar shrugged, but didn't meet her eyes. "I could not help it."

Helga shook her head. "It was not worth it."

Salazar just shrugged again. Godric saw pain flash in Helga's eyes, and sighed. Salazar had always had his own way of looking of the world. The silence in the room, and Godric saw the children exchange uneasy glances, but he kept silent. He would follow Salazar's lead for this part. Salazar's eyes flashed to his, then to the trio, and he sighed.

"I was overpowered and captured." His voice had become completely emotionless. "Two days later, their leader challenged Godric to a duel. Godric killed him. Most of the Order was destroyed. We survived." He rose to his feet abruptly. "If you will excuse me." He Disapparated before anyone could even open their mouth.

Godric blew out a long sigh. True, Salazar hadn't lied, but he also hadn't told the whole truth. Not even half of it. Godric couldn't blame him for that, but Salazar of all people should know the result of bottling everything up.

"Is that it?" Ron asked. Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry nodded in agreement. Godric sighed.

"More or less."

He could see the scepticism in their eyes, and understood it. After all, what they had heard had been troubling, but no reason for the dread with which the Order was regarded.

Maybe it was irrational. The Order were no more skilled or ruthless than any of the other Dark wizards he had faced over the years. Individually they were little threat, and although numerous, they were certainly manageable, especially with the allies he and his fellow Founders had accumulated over the years. There was no real reason for them to fear the Order so much.

Except no other enemy had hurt them so badly. No others had broken into their sanctuary, threatened their students, nearly killed one of them, and driven another to near breaking point. No others had used forbidden magic to unleash forces that had nearly overwhelmed them. No others had come so close to destroying them. Such things could not easily be forgotten.

"You must understand that that was the first time any enemy had brought the fight here," said Helga. Her face was very pale, but she met the confused looks of the time-travellers calmly. "They did not care about endangering innocents; their hatred of us was so great that they went out of their way to do so. And they were most...creative in their efforts to harm us."

Godric couldn't help but flinch. The aftermath was burned into his brain, even years later. "We are telling you this because they cannot be underestimated," he said. "Your age will not make them pause, if anything it will only encourage them."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked each other, then turned back to the Founders.

"We understand," said Harry. "And thanks for telling us, but it doesn't change anything. We still want to help."

"But we're not going to be stupid," Hermione added. "We know we're not strong enough."

"Yet," said Ron firmly.

Godric honestly hadn't expected anything else. He glanced at Rowena and Helga, saw their resignation and acceptance, and nodded. "Then we will continue as before." His heart clenched, but the next words had to be said. "And, depending on its severity, you will accompany us to the next incident."

The delight in Harry and Ron's faces almost made him reconsider, but they understood the risks. Hermione was more subdued, but her eyes glittered with a fierce satisfaction that reminded Godric of Salazar. That in turn made him think of Salazar's exit, and he glanced at Rowena. "I think that is enough for this morning."

Rowena nodded and turned to the trio. "We will resume your lessons after dinner. I trust you can amuse yourselves until then?"

Harry shrugged. "We'll find something." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks."

Helga managed a small smile. "We are just glad that you understand a little better."

Godric watched the three of them leave with a sigh. "Do you think they do? Really?"

"No," said Helga quietly, "but they trust us. And they know that we would not overstate the danger. We can only hope that that is enough."

Godric grimaced. "Indeed." He studied her for a long minute. "Are you all right?"

"I am," said Helga. "Go to Salazar."

She knew him too well. Rowena squeezed his hand once more then released him. "Go on."

Godric didn't need any more encouragement. He also didn't need Hogwarts to tell him where Salazar would be.

The view from the top of the Astronomy Tower never failed to take Godric's breath away. He had always loved heights, and the scenery surrounding the school was nothing short of spectacular. On this occasion, however, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

"I am sorry."

Salazar didn't take his eyes from the grey skies. "We agreed that they had to understand the risks."

"That is not what I meant, and you know it," said Godric.

"And you know that there is nothing to forgive."

Godric glared at him. "I should have been there."

Salazar finally turned to look him in the eye. "You were where you should have been, protecting innocents. How can I, or any of us, resent you for that?"

Godric didn't reply. It wasn't the first time he had heard that argument, all of his friends had made it very clear that they did not blame him for his actions. But the consequences were burned into Godric's brain, and he would never be able to stop blaming himself. Salazar shook his head.

"Come on."

Godric frowned at him. "Where are we going?"

Salazar gave a thin smile. "We are going to talk to your prisoners."

As distractions went, that was a good one. "Your injuries-"

"I am strong enough for this," Salazar interrupted. His grey eyes gleamed with the cold light Godric had learned to dread. "I will not be taken by surprise again."


"Well, that was illuminating."

Harry frowned, but just pulled his cloak more tightly around him. The weather, in typical British fashion, had abruptly turned cold, but the Hogwarts house-elves were prepared. All three of them had found warm cloaks in their rooms, and had seen no reason not to get some fresh air. They all needed some time to think.

Ron, however, was staring incredulously at Hermione. "Illuminating? They hardly told us anything."

"Be fair, Ron," said Harry. "We couldn't have guessed that they were afraid of these people because they'd been hurt from them before."

Hermione glared at the pair of them. "They didn't need to tell us anything, you know. They only did-"

"Because they wanted us to understand, yes, we know," Harry snapped. "But it's like they don't trust us."

"Trust has nothing to do with it, and you know it," Hermione shot back. Harry scowled, and her glare deepened. "You trust us, don't you?"

Harry eyed her warily. "You know I do."

Hermione folded her arms. "Then tell us exactly what happened between you and Voldemort last year."

Harry's mouth went bone dry. "I told you what happened."

"Harry, do you really expect us to believe that Voldemort had you defenceless and yet didn't do anything except duel you?" Hermione demanded.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. This was exactly why he had left out these other bits. He should have known Hermione, at least, would work out that there was more.

"You think something like that happened to Slytherin?" asked Ron. He sounded unusually subdued. Hermione sighed.

"It would explain why he wouldn't want to go into details, wouldn't it?"

"Especially with people he only met a few weeks ago," Harry muttered. He still didn't like it, but considering he wouldn't tell any of the Founders about his own experiences, he could understand why they were holding back. He took a deep breath, and tried to let go of the resentment. He had no right to all the details except out of curiosity, and that simply wasn't enough when it came to something like this.

Another part of the tale came to mind, and he scowled. "Can't blame him for losing control though."

Hermione's expression hardened. "Me neither."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. "What happened to keeping our tempers and responding to situation logically?"

"Sometimes the cause is sufficient," said Hermione quietly.

Harry shivered. If Ron or Hermione were ever that seriously injured in front of him he would probably react in a similar way. Both his friends looked like they had come to similar conclusions. Ron shook himself.

"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen." He chewed on his lip as they took one of their favourite paths down to the lake. "I might ask Professor Gryffindor about learning some group strategies. I mean, we're all getting good at duelling, some better than others," he added with a glance at Harry, who gave a sheepish smile, "but we haven't really learned how to work as a team rather than individuals."

Hermione gave him a searching look. "That's a good idea, Ron."

Once Ron would have blushed under the praise. This time he just shrugged. "Can't hurt, can it?"

Harry grinned at him. "Definitely not. And if they see we're serious, they'll be more likely to show us stuff."

Ron grinned back. "Very Slytherin of you."

Harry felt a rush of pride at that. The thought made him pause; not so long ago Ron would never have used that particular characteristic as a compliment, and he himself would have taken it as a deadly insult. How things had changed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of them, but there was approval in her eyes. "We should talk to Professor Slytherin about using Apparition in battle too. It looks like a useful skill."

"Yeah, we will," said Ron. "After, you know, we actually learn how to Apparate."

Harry grimaced. Despite Slytherin's best efforts, he and Ron still hadn't made much progress with Apparition.

"You'll be there soon," said Hermione briskly. "You're making good progress in our other lessons, so there's no reason why you shouldn't get this in time."

"Thanks," said Harry dryly. "By the time they work out how to send us home we'll be experts." The wind whistled round them, and he pulled his cloak more tightly around him. "And if they do manage to send us back to the exact moment we left, we'll get another summer."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can't you concentrate for just five minutes?"

Harry smirked. After the morning they'd had, they needed something a bit lighter to think about. Ron, however, was frowning. "Hang on, it's September soon,right?"

"The Founders did tell us that the students would be coming back soon," Hermione reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, but you know what that means, don't you?"

Harry looked at him blankly, but Hermione gasped. "Oh! Harry, we're so sorry."

Harry spread his hands. "What are you talking about?"

"Your birthday, Harry," said Hermione. "We forgot to keep track."

Harry blinked. "Oh. That."

Ron stared at him. "Seriously? Mate, it's your birthday, and we didn't do anything."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. With everything that had been going on, it had slipped his mind too, but Ron and Hermione were looking much more upset than he felt. "Well, I'll have one when I get back, won't I? It's no big deal."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a very expressive look. The sight set Harry on edge; there were far more important things for them to be worrying about. It wasn't like his birthday was anything special. He shook his head and kept walking, but paused when he caught sight of a tall figure standing by the edge of the lake. "Is that that Edmund bloke?"

Hermione squinted round him. "Yes, I think so."

"Doesn't look like things are going well with Helena, does it?" Ron murmured.

He had a point. Edmund's shoulders were slumped, and he was glaring at the still water like it had personally offended him. Harry shrugged. "Maybe he should get the hint."

Hermione sniffed. "I can't say I see the appeal. I know she's very pretty," she said, when Harry and Ron shared incredulous looks, "but there's no reason for her to be so obnoxious."

"Maybe you'd be obnoxious if your dad had died," Ron pointed out.

"She's not the only person to have lost a parent," said Hermione testily. "And I was talking to Professor Hufflepuff, and she mentioned that its been nearly seven years since his death. She shouldn't still be using that as an excuse."

Ron stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "And people say I have no tact."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink. "I'm just saying that she's a bit spoiled. And you can't say that's an exaggeration."

Despite his interest in the subject of the discussion, Harry was only half-listening to the debate. Edmund had turned from the water and was beginning to make his way back to the path. There was no chance he could miss them, and Harry felt a rush of apprehension. There were too many ways they could slip up and say something they weren't supposed to.

"Just remember what we agreed with Professor Gryffindor," Hermione muttered.

"Why did you look at me when you said that?" Ron demanded.

"Shut up," Harry hissed. Both shot him slightly injured looks, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He had learned that people in the past had rather different expectations regarding the maturity of people their age, and Edmund was likely to be no different.

Harry had been clinging on to the vague hope that Edmund would be too busy to chat, but wasn't too surprised when the man stopped and gave them a cordial nod.

"Good morning to you."

"Good morning," Harry and Hermione chorused. Ron followed suit a moment later. Edmund's eyes flicked over them, and Harry automatically flattened his fringe down.

"You are Professor Gryffindor's new students?"

"Yes, sir," said Hermione. "We were learning from Ron's parents, but they wanted us to have a more rounded education."

Edmund nodded. "Excellent. It is good when parents support the search for knowledge. You are all over of magical blood, then?"

"Ron and I are," said Harry. "Hermione's an old friend, so she's been learning with us." It probably would have been easier to say yes, but Hermione had adamantly refused to even pretend to be ashamed of her heritage, and neither Harry nor Ron had any intention of arguing. Edmund nodded thoughtfully, his eyes coming to rest on Harry.

"I see. But what if your parents?"

"They died when I was a baby," said Harry shortly.

Edmund's expression softened. "You have my sympathies," he said. "The number of magical children who have to grow up without families is a disgrace."

"He's part of my family," said Ron sharply. "They both have been for years."

Harry blinked at him. Yes, that was the story they had agreed, and yes, the Weasleys had always made him feel like part of the family, but this was the first time a complete stranger had been told so so bluntly. Hermione looked equally taken aback, but Edmund just smiled.

"I can see why Professor Gryffindor is so fond of you."

Ron stared at him. "He talks about us?"

"They have mentioned you," Edmund confirmed. His eyes came to rest on Harry. "I understand you have taken to duelling with great confidence."

Harry nodded. "It's been very interesting. I'd done some before, but Professor Gryffindor is the best teacher I've ever had."

"There is none like him," Edmund agreed. "I would be interested in sparring with you, if you ever have time."

Harry gaped at him. What had Gryffindor been saying about him? "That-that would be good," he finally managed.

"Excellent," said Edmund. "I will speak to Professor Gryffindor about it." He glanced at the sun, and straightened. "I must be going. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," said Hermione, for all three of them. Edmund nodded, and continued past them back towards the castle.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Ron let out a low whistle. "How about that?"

"Are you really going to duel him, Harry?" Hermione asked. "He's got years of experience on you?"

"I know," said Harry, "but I can't just keep duelling you two and Gryffindor. I need to practice against lots of different opponents." And if there was another reason, well, there was no need to mention that.

"He's got a point," said Ron. "We're learning each other's styles too well. Except yours," he added, with a mock-scowl at Harry. "Bloody Seeker reflexes."

Harry smirked at him. "Always knew Quidditch was good for something."

Hermione rolled his eyes. "If you say so. Anyway, we'll be able to get more practice when the rest of the students return. I expect they'll be plenty who wouldn't mind sparring."

Harry grinned. Fighting for his life had always been a thrill, but the thrill had always been eclipsed by sheer terror. Duelling, under the watchful eye of Gryffindor or one of the others, was a very different matter. And it was nice to be good at something that was actually get to help him survive.

Ron too had a broad smile on his face. "I can't believe they've been talking about us."

"Well, it has been fairly quiet this summer," said Hermione.

"Yeah," said Harry. "They get threats and troll attacks from evil wizards all the time."

"You know what I mean," Hermione snapped. "They must normally be able to concentrate on their own studies when the students leave for the summer."

"They probably get bored," said Ron. "Gryffindor must do."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, do you they think they would have founded a school if they didn't enjoy learning about magic? Gryffindor may be more active, but I've been talking to him about Arithmancy and he's got some brilliant theories. I can't understand why he was never mentioned alongside Ravenclaw when we did those fields in class."

"Well, we know how much has been lost," Harry pointed out. "That reminds me, we need to explore the Chamber of Secrets properly when we get back."

"Are you mental?" Ron exclaimed. "Have you forgotten that you almost died down there?"

Harry just looked at him. "Yeah. That completely slipped my mind."

"Harry, I really don't think this is a good idea," said Hermione.

Harry sighed, and started walking again. "Look, I know where you're coming from. A week ago I wouldn't have wanted to either."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. That's where you went with Slytherin yesterday?"

Harry gave a sheepish shrug. Ron shook his head. "No wonder Hufflepuff wasn't pleased. But why would you want to go down there again?"

"Because there's more down there than just a Basilisk," said Harry. "Think about it, if you were one of the Founders, and you were confiscating some seriously dangerous stuff, where would you hide it?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Of course! Even if someone could get into Hogwarts, only a Parselmouth could get to them."

"And a Basilisk beats even Fluffy as a guard," Ron agreed. "But wouldn't Voldemort have found all this stuff? He must have explored it when he was a student."

Harry grimaced. "We're hoping there were places he couldn't get into. Slytherin put some pretty powerful wards on them, so as long as they haven't deteriorated along with the main castle wards we might be all right."

Hermione's expression turned thoughtful. "We could ask if we could take the most dangerous pieces back with us, just to make sure they can't fall into the wrong hands."

"That's a great idea, Hermione," said Harry. "I'll ask Slytherin next time I see him." He wasn't expecting any problems, Slytherin had made his opinion on Voldemort very clear, and they would need his advice on what to take.

"Why wait?" Ron asked. "It's too cold to be out here doing nothing anyway."

"You never complain when it's snowing," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, 'cause we're not doing nothing then."

Hermione huffed, but didn't seem inclined to continue the argument as they turned to head back to the school. Harry exchanged a grin with Ron and followed.

Despite Ron's grumbles about the weather they didn't rush back. Harry was keen to speak to Slytherin about the artefacts stored in the Chamber, but considering the mood his teacher had been in earlier, he was perfectly happy to wait a little while to broach the subject. His earlier resentment had all but vanished; he could hardly be annoyed at Slytherin for not telling them everything that had happened when he himself was guilty of the exact same thing.

Ron gave an exaggerated shudder of relief when they finally reached the shelter of the Entrance Hall.

"How about next time we take some of those blue flames with us next time?"

"You could always make them yourself, Ron," Hermione remarked.

"Well, yeah, but you always seemed to have so much fun doing it."

Hermione snorted, but her scowl abruptly turned to a frown. "What do you think's going on there?"

Harry followed her gaze, and swallowed. Slytherin was coming up from the dungeons, and his expression was more deadly than Harry had ever seen it. Gryffindor was just behind him, and although he too looked grim, there was no mistaking the wary glances he was shooting at Slytherin's back.

"Hasn't calmed down much, has he?" Ron muttered.

Harry shook his head. "This is something else. Slytherin might have been angry and upset after telling them that story, but nothing like this cold fury. Harry searched his brain, but he couldn't think of anything that could have triggered such a change in the hour or so Slytherin had been absent.

That left only one option. Harry took a deep breath, and stopped at the top of the stairs. "Good morning, Professor."

Slytherin's eyes locked on his, and for a moment Harry wondered if this had been such a good idea, but then Slytherin seemed to pull himself together. The fury disappeared behind the familiar mask, and Slytherin nodded to him. "Good morning."

Harry willed himself to relax. Even after weeks of getting to know and trust Slytherin, it was impossible to forget the man would make a terrifying enemy. Both Ron and Hermione had gone pale, but they waited with Harry for the two teachers to join them.

"Did something happen?" asked Ron, when Slytherin finally stepped into the Entrance Hall. Slytherin scowled, and Gryffindor shook his head.

"Nothing you need to be concerned about."

Harry was already opening his mouth for clarification when Slytherin snorted. "Not yet, anyway."

Godric closed his eyes for a moment. "Salazar..."

"You were the one who said they needed to understand," Slytherin hissed. Gryffindor stared at him, but Slytherin just turned back to Harry.

"I was questioning the prisoners from yesterday in an attempt to find out what they are planning."

"I'm guessing it didn't go well," said Harry quietly.

"They knew nothing," Slytherin snarled. A sudden wind lifted the edge of his cloak. "Expendable underlings who were not considered important enough to be told anything."

"Salazar," Gryffindor snapped. The wind disappeared, but the air still seemed to crackle with rage and magic, and Harry had to resist the urge to reach for his wand.

"Then they weren't hiding anything useful?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," said Slytherin. To Harry's surprise, a savage grin was spreading across his face. "I made sure of that."

Unease coiled in Harry's stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I saw everything they had to offer," said Slytherin impatiently. "What little there was."

"You broke into their minds?"

Despite his best efforts, Harry knew he had failed to keep the horror from his voice when Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Very few Dark wizards will tell the truth if their own free will."

Harry was well aware of that, but... "You said you didn't like doing! You said it was a huge breach of privacy."

"It is," said Slytherin. "But if it comes down to the lives of my students and my friends, and the privacy of murderers, I know which I will pick." His eyes gleamed with that terrifying cold ferocity. "And sometimes it is most satisfactory for them to have a taste of what they inflict on others."

Harry could only stare at him. He had own Slytherin could be ruthless, he and Gryffindor had demonstrated that on multiple occasions, but this? Inflicting pain on others and enjoying it? It might be extreme circumstances, but it was something Harry could not reconcile with the man he had thought he knew.

Fortunately, Ron looked equally dismayed.

"But you're supposed to be the good guys," he protested. "How can you go around doing stuff like this?"

Gryffindor sighed, but Slytherin met his gaze without flinching. "Because someone has to. And I know what happens when someone does not." The rage vanished from his face then, and he simply looked tired. "I do not expect you to understand, but you must know by now that war is not a pleasant thing. If you cannot accept that, then you may not survive."

Harry gritted his teeth. He knew what Slytherin was saying, but that didn't mean he had to accept it. Ron too was shaking his head, but Hermione was looking at Slytherin with a very curious expression on her face. Harry frowned, but his attention was diverted when Gryffindor laid a hand in Slytherin's shoulder.

"Enough."

He said nothing else, but his green eyes remained fixed on Slytherin's, until Slytherin's shoulders slumped. He nodded, shot a final searching look at Harry and his friends, and Disapparated.

Ron blew out a long breath. "What the hell was that?"

Gryffindor shook his head. "He is a impossible when he is injured," he growled. "And this morning will not have helped matters."

"Yeah, we gathered that," Harry muttered.

Gryffindor sighed. "Those memories always bring out the worst in him. Do not take it to heart, Harry. He will be himself again tomorrow."

Harry didn't reply. This new side to his mentor had rattled him, and questions about Slytherin and the Dark Arts he had thought resolved were bubbling up again. Ron, though, was frowning at Gryffindor.

"And you let him do this?"

Gryffindor looked at him. "You should know by now that we will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of our students. We had to know." He paused for a second, eyes darkening. "Though I should not have let him do so soon. His control can be somewhat tenuous when it comes to these people."

Ron still looked mutinous, and Harry couldn't blame him in the slightest. Gryffindor looked at the two if them and sighed. "Come. Dinner will be ready soon."

Eating was the last thing Harry felt like doing, but it was better than standing around feeling awkward. Gryffindor shot him a sympathetic look. "It will be better tomorrow, Harry. He will not be pleased with what he allowed himself to do today."

Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly. Maybe Gryffindor was right, and things would be better tomorrow, maybe he wasn't. Either way worrying over it wouldn't help. He shook himself, and slowly followed Ron and Gryffindor towards the Great Hall. A silent Hermione brought up the rear, a very thoughtful expression still present on her face.


Normally, Hermione thoroughly enjoyed mealtimes in the past. The food might have taken a bit of getting used to, and she did miss potatoes, but it was all delicious, and probably a lot more healthy than her normal term time diet. And, of course, the conversation was always excellent.

Today, however, Hermione found she had no appetite. Nor could she summon any interest in Professor Ravenclaw's comments about the animagus transformation. Normally she would be as eager for such information as Harry and Ron, who were hanging on the Founder's every word, but today she was preoccupied. Not unusual in itself, perhaps, but this situation was complicated enough that Hermione wasn't quite sure of what to do. Talking to Ron or Harry was out of the question under the circumstances, and neither Professor Ravenclaw, nor Professor Hufflepuff were likely to approve either.

Still, there was one person who might. Someone who was sitting a little apart from the others, his usually genial expression grim. Hermione took a deep breath and shuffled along the bench until she was opposite him.

"Can I talk to you, Professor?"

Professor Gryffindor looked up. For a moment his eyes searched hers, then he nodded slowly. "I thought it would be you." He sighed and set his spoon down. "You may. But I am not the one you really want, am I?"

Hermione bit her lip. She wasn't used to being read that easily, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. It did mean, though, that she didn't have to breach the subject. "No," she admitted.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Because I'm not sure if I should," said Hermione bluntly. None of the others would approve, and nor would many people back home. Gryffindor sighed.

"It is not an easy thing. However..." His expression darkened. "He was right when he said that sometimes it is necessary." For a moment he seemed lost in memories, then his gaze snapped back to Hermione. "You must use your best judgement. But I will tell you this," he said, when Hermione frowned, "all he has ever done, he has done to protect the people he cares about."

Hermione looked along the bench, at Ron and Harry who were both laughing, and then back to Gryffindor. "I can understand that."

Gryffindor gave a sad smile. "I am glad someone does."

Hermione nodded. "Would you excuse me please, Professor?"

Neither Harry nor Ron noticed her departure. Only Professor Hufflepuff looked up as Hermione made her way to the door, and she made no attempt to stop her. She just gave a smile as sad as Gryffindor's as Hermione turned towards the stairs leading to the dungeons.

A few minutes later, Hermione stood outside the carved wooden door. For a long moment she hesitated, but Hermione knew her own mind. She summoned her Gryffindor courage and knocked as firmly as she could. There was a pause, and then the door swung open. Hermione took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

Unlike Harry, she had never been inside Slytherin's office. It suited him; comfortable and elegant, but giving nothing away. Hermione wasn't surprised by the sound of a bubbling cauldron in the connecting room, or the shelves of books that lined the walls, but the sight of the dark green snake coiled by the fire made her pause. Even before being petrified, snakes had not been her favourite animals.

"She is harmless to students."

Hermione couldn't quite suppress a flinch. Slytherin moved from the corner of the corner of he room to stand next to her, his eyes on his snake. Hermione swallowed. "And everyone else?"

"Well, that depends on their own toxicity."

Hermione shivered. There was no hesitation in Slytherin's voice, only grim promise. Unease flickered in her stomach, but she forced it down. She had known what she was doing. Slytherin finally turned from the snake to look her in the eye.

"What can I do for you, Hermione?"

Hermione forced herself to meet that piercing gaze. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier."

Slytherin grimaced. "I suppose you agree with Harry and Ron." His tone was subdued, but there was a curious glint in his eyes. Hermione lifted her chin.

"Actually, I don't."

Slytherin said nothing, but like Gryffindor he didn't look surprised. Hermione sighed. "Harry and Ron think that sinking to using our opponents' methods makes us no better than them."

"And what do you think?"

"I agree," said Hermione quietly. "But I also know that throughout history, people have had to do things in war they would never dream of doing otherwise, in order to protect the people they care about."

"And you do not believe Harry and Ron will do so?" Slytherin asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Ron couldn't. He feels too much. And Harry..."

"He could," said Slytherin. "If he was driven to that point."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "And I don't want to see him like that. I don't want to see him become something he despises."

Slytherin nodded. "But you are different."

For a moment, Hermione said nothing. Part of her, a large part, was screaming at her to get out. That they could win the war without resorting to such measures.

But there was another part. The cold, practical, logical part, that disagreed. The part that had permanently scarred Marietta Edgecombe, and sent Umbridge to face the centaurs. The part of her that had known exactly what she was doing, and felt only triumph at the outcome. The part that would do whatever it took to protect the people she loved.

She didn't need to say anything. Slytherin nodded, and the acceptance in his eyes was touched with relief. "Very well."

Hermione straightened her shoulders. She was a Gryffindor, and she would protect her friends and family.

Whatever the cost.

Chapter 16: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry didn't go down for breakfast the next morning. Considering the frequency with which he ran into Slytherin in the Great Hall, he thought it best to keep his distance. Hermione frowned when he split off from them, but Harry slipped out the main doors before he could hear another lecture about how he needed to put on weight. No doubt Hufflepuff wouldn't be pleased either, but that couldn't be helped. Harry needed time to think, and he wasn't going to get it with his friends and teachers around.

The weather was just as cold as it had been the previous day, and Harry tugged his cloak tighter around himself as he made his way down towards the lake. He loved Hogwarts, but had the Founders really had to pick the north of Scotland? He slumped down under the same tree his father would sit under in a thousand odd years and stared out over the grey water.

As much as he hated to admit it, Harry could understand where Slytherin was coming from. With so many threats, both magical and Muggle, and very little help, the Founders simply couldn't afford to be as merciful as the Aurors in Harry's time. If they didn't deal with threats immediately and ruthlessly, innocent people, innocent children, would die. With that in mind, Harry couldn't blame them for taking extreme measures.

That didn't mean it was easy to accept. It wasn't easy to see a man he had come to respect talking so easily about shattering another person's mind. It wasn't easy to hear Slytherin and Gryffindor casually talk about how to annihilate enemies most effectively. It wasn't easy to see anyone look so gleeful at how a living person, even an enemy, was suffering.

Harry sighed and rested his head back against the rough bark. He knew his teachers only killed in self-defence, and to protect innocent people, but all Harry had heard since starting at Hogwarts was that they had to be better than Voldemort. Voldemort and the Death Eaters killed and tortured their Death Eaters; therefore Harry must not, under any circumstances, stoop to their level. After all everyone deserved a second chance. Or so they said.

The wind whistled around him, and Harry huddled back into the shelter of the tree. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mrs Weasley, Hagrid, they all believed that even when Death Eaters were trying to kill you it was wrong to react in kind. Over the past few weeks though, Harry had begun to wonder. If the Death Eaters were anything like the Order, and Voldemort certainly was, then maybe he couldn't afford to be thinking that way.

Harry didn't know. What he did know was that he was angry with the way Slytherin had acted, angry with Gryffindor for not stopping it, and angry with himself for expecting anything else.

"Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes. "How do you keep doing that?"

There was a slight pause before Slytherin replied. "Would you like me to leave?"

Harry looked up at him. The Founder's dark hair was tied back, throwing the sharp planes of his face into stark relief, and highlighting the deep shadows under his eyes. He was wearing dark blue robes, and there was an air of hesitancy to him that Harry hadn't seen him in a long time. Harry thought for a moment, then mentally shrugged. He needed answers. He might as well start getting them now.

Slytherin took his silence for what it was, and gently lowered himself down next to Harry. "I believe I owe you an apology," he began. "It was not my intent to alarm you yesterday."

Harry turned back to look out over the lake. "I know."

There was a soft sigh. "Do you understand why I acted as I did?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "If you don't, people could get hurt, especially your students. I get that." He sighed. "What I don't get is how you find it so easy."

"Easy," Slytherin repeated, and the tension in his voice made Harry frown round at him.

"You said you made sure they knew nothing, and you were grinning. You were pleased with yourself."

Slytherin broke his gaze. "I was angry," he said quietly. "Between the attack at the apothecary, and our conversation yesterday morning, I admit that I got a little carried away. I wanted them to suffer." Harry's stomach twisted, but his interruption died on his tongue when Slytherin looked back at him. "I was overly harsh, and I regret that. However, I maintain that it was necessary, and I have no regrets about what I did. Only how I went about it."

Harry shook his head. "It still doesn't seem right. It's like Ron said, we're the good guys, we're supposed to be better than them. What difference is there between us and them if we go around doing exactly what they do?"

Slytherin's eyes flashed. "The difference is in the why," he hissed. "Do you think I go around using Legilimency on innocent people just for the fun of it? Do you think Godric would ever allow it?"

"Of course not, but-"

"You are forgetting what time you are in," said Slytherin coldly. "Here there are no Aurors, no Ministry of Magic, only individuals. If we do not deal with these threats, who will? That is a responsibility that leaves little room for mercy."

"I know that," Harry snapped back. "But it still feels wrong." His hands had clenched into fists, and he took a deep breath and tried to force his anger down. Arguing wouldn't help.

"Good."

Harry blinked. "What?"

Slytherin still looked grim, but now he looked more tired than angry. "You have only been with us for a few weeks, Harry. I would be more alarmed than pleased if your attitudes changed so suddenly." He pushed some stray strands of hair back from his face and sighed. "When it comes down to it, I cannot tell you what to think. I know things are different in your time, and there you must act as you see fit. But, here and now, you have to trust that we know what we are doing. If not…" He trailed off with an eloquent shrug.

Harry stared at him for a long minute. He had expected shouting, pleas, and demands that he face the reality of what he was doing. It was what Dumbledore would do, what most of the Order would do in fact. He turned to stare at the lake again. A tentacle broke the water, and he drew in a long breath.

"I do trust you. And I do understand why you have to do things like that." He closed his eyes for a second, then the words spilled out in a rush. "I just don't think I should do it myself."

"Why not?" asked Slytherin gently.

Harry opened his eyes, but continued to stare at the ground in front of him. "Ever since Cedric…the graveyard, I've been so angry. I've pushed people away, I've hurt people…I haven't been in control. And that anger…" He looked up to meet Slytherin's eyes. "I know that I could use it to hurt people. When I was facing the Death Eaters and thinking about all they'd done to so many people, like Neville's parents…" He realised abruptly that his voice was rising, and forced himself to calm down. "I wanted them to suffer. And I know that I could do it."

"And you don't want to turn into a monster," Slytherin finished.

Harry could only nod. "I don't want to be anything like him."

There was silence for a minute. Harry couldn't look at Slytherin's face. He felt exhausted, drained by the outburst, but at the same time he felt lighter than he had in a very long time. He had never told any of that to Ron, Hermione or even Sirius. They would instantly have assured him that he was wrong, that there was no way he could be anything like Voldemort, but Harry knew better. After all, hadn't Dumbledore once said that he and Tom Riddle were very much alike? And now that he knew there was a Horcrux inside of him…

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry did look round at that, startled out of his daze. "What for?"

Slytherin gave him a small smile. "For trusting me with that." His fingers traced the patterns on his staff, but his eyes didn't move from Harry's. "It is a risk. I will not deny that. I have seen people become the very monsters they fought to destroy. But you have something that Voldemort does not."

Harry frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You have people who care about you," said Slytherin simply. "Do you think Ron or Hermione would ever let you lose yourself? And once you get home, you will have many other people to help you. You do not have to do this alone."

"I remember you said something like that once before," said Harry.

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "Then maybe you should listen to me."

Harry almost smiled at that, but there was still too much on his mind. "It's not fair to put them in danger because of me."

"Who said it was because of you?" Slytherin asked. "Death Eaters killed Ron's uncles. Hermione's parents are Muggles. They are involved whether you think it is fair or not." Harry felt his cheeks heat up, but Slytherin wasn't finished. "I'm sure every other person who fights beside you will have equally valid reasons for doing so. You cannot do this alone, Harry, and you shouldn't try to." He hesitated, then reached out to grip Harry's shoulder. "Don't make the same mistakes that I did."

For a moment, Harry couldn't speak. He had known all that. Ron, Hermione and even the other Founders had all told him so, multiple times in some cases. Maybe it was time to start believing them. He looked up at Slytherin and gave a small smile. "I'll try." He paused, then added, "I'm sorry too."

Slytherin's eyes sparkled in the first genuine smile Harry had seen from him in the past two days. "Then let us leave it, for now. In the meantime-"

"Please don't say I need to go and eat breakfast because I'm too skinny," Harry interrupted. "It's bad enough when Hermione and Mrs Weasley do it."

Slytherin actually laughed at that. "I have heard something similar of the sort from Helga and Godric," he said. "Rest assured, I would never subject anyone else to it." He glanced at the cloudy sky, then settled back against the tree. "Rowena wishes to talk to the three of you about what will happen when the rest of the students will return, but we have a little while until then."

Harry nodded and settled back himself. "I can't believe everyone will be back so soon. I hope we don't give too much away."

"You will be fine," Slytherin assured him. "Just stick to the story and don't get too creative."

Harry grinned, but the mention of the students reminded him of something else. "Professor, do all students learn duelling?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "All learn basic defence, and some go on to more advanced classes, like you. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Ron said something yesterday," Harry explained. "He pointed out that there's only so much we can learn if we only duel each other. We know each other so well that we're already beginning to anticipate each other, and we can't do that in a real battle."

"Indeed," said Slytherin. "And I agree with Ron, it would be very useful for you to practice against some of our other students. No doubt it would help them as well."

Harry smiled. He hadn't really thought Slytherin would say no, but it never hurt to ask. "Thanks. He also wants to start working on some group strategies, rather than us just attacking on our own."

Slytherin nodded approvingly. "Godric knew he would be good at this. Make sure Ron suggests this to him."

"I will," Harry promised. He hesitated, but decided it couldn't hurt. "We also ran into Edmund. Nothing happened," he said quickly, when Slytherin show him a sharp look. "Except, well..."

"Yes?"

Harry took a deep breath. "He offered to duel me."

To his surprise, Slytherin just nodded. "I am not surprised. Godric was very eloquent when he asked what you were up to."

Harry stared at him. "Seriously?"

"Of course. He is very pleased with your progress." He frowned when Harry could only stare at him. "Harry?"

Harry shook himself. "You really talk about us?"

Slytherin blinked, then smiled. "We do. You are our students, and we are very proud of how well you all are doing." Mischief danced in his eyes. "As you will soon see."

Harry eyed him. "What are you planning?"

Slytherin just grinned. "Now, what I have told you about patience, Harry? You don't want to ruin the surprise, do you?"

Harry muttered under his breath, which only made Slytherin laugh again. "You will find out soon enough, I promise." He tilted his head to one side. "For now, however, Rowena is looking for us."

"How convenient," said Harry dryly as he got up. Slytherin just smirked at him, but accepted the hand Harry offered him and regained his footing with a soft grunt.

"Thank you."

Harry frowned at him. The Founder's skin was still a little pale, and he was leaning heavily on his staff. Then Harry could have kicked himself; it was only two days since Slytherin had been attacked. No wonder he wasn't back to his normal self yet. He knew better to mention it though, and simply adjusted his pace to Slytherin's as they made their way back up to the castle.

"There you are," said Gryffindor, as they entered the now familiar antechamber. "I was about to come and look for you."

Slytherin rolled his eyes. "We came as soon as Hogwarts told us."

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow, but Gryffindor just looked between Harry and Slytherin and grinned. "Well, you're here now, and that's what matters."

Slytherin shot him a curious look as he made his way to his seat, but his attention was diverted when Helga immediately leaned over and began questioning him in a low voice. Harry smirked at the sight, but it vanished when he turned round and met Hermione's icy glare.

"Where have you been?" she hissed.

Harry opened his mouth, but Ron beat him to it. "Will you just relax? Gryffindor told us he was on the grounds, and that Slytherin was with him. What did you think was going to happen?"

Hermione glared at him, but just folded her arms. Harry wasn't at all surprised by the display, Hermione had always taken their safety very seriously. He sighed and took a seat between two his friends. "I just needed to think. Clear the air a bit."

Hermione glanced at him, then at Slytherin, and her frown relaxed a little. "Good."

Harry smiled and sat back. Ron shot the Founder a slightly dubious look, but shook his head. "Whatever you say."

Harry caught his eye. "It's all fine," he said quietly. "I don't agree with everything, but things are different in this time. If we don't trust them, then we're not going to get anywhere."

It was measure of how much Ron had matured in the past couple of months that he just sighed. "I know, mate, but it's going to take a while to get used to."

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered, but the conversation ceased when Ravenclaw stood up to face them.

"Now that we're all finally here," she shot a pointed look at Slytherin, who looked as innocent as Harry had ever seen him, "I wanted to see if the three of you had any questions about what will happen when our students return in two weeks time."

"I'm mostly worried about saying something stupid," Ron admitted. "One reference to trains or Portkeys and they're gonna think we're completely mental."

"We will be working on that over the next few days," Hufflepuff assured him. "But as long as you are careful I am sure you will be fine."

Hermione leaned forwards. "I know you said it was usual to get new students over the holidays," she began, "but are they normally as old as us? Will people be suspicious?"

Ravenclaw shook her head. "We are more likely to take in younger students, but we have taken students your age or older before. Many with magic are schooled by their families before being sent to us, and the age at which they are deemed fit to go will vary depending on the knowledge and skill of those families." She gave a small smile. "It certainly makes teaching interesting."

"Agreed," said Gryffindor. "Remember Wulfric?"

Slytherin snorted. "We are not likely to forget." He glanced at the trio. "A genius when came to Charms, but couldn't tell a nettle from a dock leaf."

"He did his best," said Helga reproachfully, as Harry and Ron smothered grins.

"I didn't mean it that way," Slytherin protested. "I was merely using it as an example of how students can join us at very different levels in our various subjects."

"And that reminds me," said Gryffindor. "Have you given any thought to any extra classes you might wish to take?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ravenclaw settled herself back in her seat, smoothing her light blue robe. "You will all be continuing the core subjects with us, as well as your Duelling, Occlumency and Apparition sessions, but you may take others if you wish, within reason."

"The animagus transformation?" said Ron hopefully.

Gryffindor laughed. "We will think about it. In the meantime, work on your Transfiguration and nonverbal magic."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other, but Hemione was looking thoughtful. "Would I be able to take Arithmancy and Runes."

Ravenclaw and Slytherin exchanged a look, then both nodded. "On the condition that you tell us immediately if the workload becomes too much," said Slytherin. "We do not want a repeat of your third year."

Hermione blushed, but Harry shot Slytherin a grateful look. He loved Hermione like a sister, but she had been a nightmare that year. The Founder gave him a slight smile in return. "What about you, Harry?"

Harry shifted in his seat as all eyes turned on him. "I don't know. Maybe Runes? That's what you use for Warding, isn't it?"

"It is," said Slytherin. "But I warn you now that it will take many years of study to gain that level of proficiency."

Harry nodded. "I know," he said. "But I'd like to learn anyway." He was doing his best to ignore the slightly fanatical gleam that had lit Hermione's eyes, but he didn't miss the amused look that passed between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff when the young witch shifted to the very edge of her seat in excitement.

"Do you teach it here?"

Slytherin was the only one to keep a straight face at that. "I do, though there are very few who are both capable and willing to learn it." He shot her an appraising look. "Come with me this afternoon, and I will see if it would be suitable."

Hermione actually squeaked with excitement, and Harry had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to back laughter. Ron wasn't quite so subtle, and had to disguise it with the most fake-sounding snort Harry had ever heard. Hermione flushed pink, but Slytherin shook his head. "It is admirable that you take your studies so seriously," he said gently. "And Warding is a truly fascinating and rewarding field."

Hermione smiled at him and sat back, pointedly ignoring both Harry and Ron. Harry was just opening his mouth to ask for more details about the level of Runes he would be studying when Slytherin suddenly let out a muffled hiss and sat bolt upright.

"For goodness sake, Salazar," Hufflepuff began, but her words died at the expression on his face. Harry tensed. Slytherin's face had gone bone grey and something was telling Harry that it wasn't just from the pain in his body. His eyes were unfocused and he didn't even seem to have heard Hufflepuff's warning.

"Do you feel that?"

"What?" Harry asked.

Instead of answering however, Gryffindor growled out a curse. "One day's peace, can they not give us that?"

Ron stared at him. "You're not saying-"

"The Order?" Hermione exclaimed. "This soon?"

The Founders exchanged a grim look. "Say what you will about them," said Ravenclaw grimly, "they are not fools. They knew we would not expect another attack so quickly."

"Maybe they were right," said Hufflepuff quietly. "But it is they who will live to regret it." Though her tone was mild, the glint in her blue eyes was enough that no one dared to doubt her. In contrast Gryffindor's face was expressionless as he turned to Slytherin.

"What is the situation?"

Slytherin's eyes were closed now, and Harry knew he was drawing on his deeper connection to the wards. "Far side of the lake," he murmured. "No wizards."

"Good. Trolls? Dragons?"

"No." Silver eyes snapped open. "Dementors."

Harry swallowed as the now familiar fear washed over him. He might be able to fight Dementors now, but the creatures would never fail to horrify him.

"Dementors," Ravenclaw repeated. Her face was very nearly as pale as Slytherin's, who nodded.

"They have done this before," he reminded her quietly.

"And now we know how to fight them," Hufflepuff agreed. She hesitated, glancing at her fellow Founders and Harry watched in bemusement as they shared one of their silent communications. After a moment she turned to the trio. "We would welcome your assistance."

Harry stared at her. "You're letting us help?" He had been planning to offer anyway but had fully expected a drawn out argument on the subject before they agreed.

Ravenclaw grimaced. "You have had as much experience with these particular creatures as we have, and you are far more practised with the spell. Your presence on this occasion would be useful."

"Of course, the usual conditions apply," said Gryffindor. "You will obey our instructions without question."

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, sir." After what they had seen over the past couple of days he had no intention of getting on this particular Founder's bad side.

"Good." He paused for a moment, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant before turning to Slytherin. "You need to stay here."

Harry winced. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron sidle further along the couch as Slytherin's grip tightened on his staff. "I know the spell."

The ice in his voice made Harry long for his Invisibility Cloak, but Gryffindor just folded his arms. "You have not yet had a chance to practise. Besides, you are hardly in a fit state to fight."

"I am not an invalid," Slytherin hissed.

Gryffindor's eyes flashed. "These are Dementors, you fool," he ground out. Ron shifted uneasily, and Gryffindor seemed to remember they had an audience. He clamped his jaw shut, eyes flashing with barely suppressed irritation, and jerked his head at Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff sighed and beckoned for Harry and Ron to take her hands.

"Let us go," she said quietly. Harry caught a final glimpse of Slytherin's face, pale with pain and rage, before Hufflepuff's grip tightened and she Apparated them away.

As usual Harry stumbled when they reappeared, but his embarrassment was eased when Ron's landing proved equally ungraceful. Seconds later the matter was wiped from his mind anyway as he became aware of an all too familiar chill.

"They're here."

The morning was foggy, and the sky grey and overcast, but there was no mistaking the shapes advancing through the mist towards them. Harry swallowed, and heard Ron swear next to him. There was a soft crack as Ravenclaw appeared with Hermione, who drew in a sharp breath.

"There are so many of them."

Harry could only nod. There might not be as many as there had been on the night Sirius escaped, but there were still too many to easily count.

"Why aren't they coming any closer?" Ron asked.

Harry squinted, and saw that the Dementors had ceased their slow advance. They floated maybe fifty metres away, as if unable to come any closer. The suspicion was confirmed when Hufflepuff gave a small smile.

"Salazar was determined not to allow any inside the castle grounds. He spent months trying to find a way."

"Brilliant," Hermione breathed.

Harry nodded. Third year would have been much easier if the wards in the future hadn't deteriorated as much. He suddenly realised that he couldn't hear his parents; indeed the only sign of the Dementor's presence was the bone-numbing chill. "I really need to learn Warding," he muttered.

Ron grinned, and Hermione rolled her eyes, but further discussion was interrupted by the appearance of Gryffindor next to Ravenclaw. He looked even more disgruntled than before, but all traces of irritation disappeared under a mask of pure concentration as he set eyes on the Dementors.

"We need to keep them away from Hogsmeade. They avoid settlements under normal circumstances, so as long as we don't drive them directly in that direction they shouldn't be a threat."

Hufflepuff swallowed, but nodded. "So we need to get to the side of them."

"Yes. We will Apparate round and drive the towards the forest." He glanced at Harry. "Do you have anything you would like to add?"

Harry thought about it. "Not really. Just think of your happy memory now, and cast it as soon as you can." He shivered. "It gets harder the longer you wait."

"Understood," said Gryffindor. If he felt at all nervous, there was no trace of it in his face or voice. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were both pale, but it was clear neither had any intention of backing down. Harry's own nerves were remarkably steady; it might be a dangerous situation, and he would never be completely comfortable around them, but unlike with the troll and the fight with the Order, Harry knew exactly how to handle Dementors. He was more worried about Ron and Hermione, but they both what they were doing, and at least they had back up. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They were as ready as they were going to be.

Gryffindor had evidently come to the same conclusion.

"Then let's go." He gripped Ron's shoulder and the two of them Disapparated. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw followed his lead, and the next thing Harry knew the castle was at his side rather than his back. The Dementors began to move towards them, and Harry reacted on instinct.

"Expecto patronum!"

The silver stag burst from Harry's wand, but as fast as he had been Gryffindor was quicker, and together stag and griffin slammed into the horde of Dementors. The creatures' advance faltered, falling back, but not quite fleeing. At least not until the stag and griffin were joined by an equally brilliant dog, otter, hippogriff and winged horse. The silver light seemed to magnify and brighten until Harry had to shield his eyes, but he kept his wand up and Ron and Hermione's faces in his mind.

"Keep going!" Gryffindor shouted. "They're running!"

"Running requires legs," Ravenclaw snapped. "If anything they are gliding."

Harry exchanged an incredulous look with Ron, then realised the cold was fading and risked a glance up. "They're leaving."

"They're moving away from the wards," said Hufflepuff. She was breathing hard, but her wand was quite steady. "How long should we keep these up?"

"A little longer," said Gryffindor. "We cannot afford to take risks." He glanced at Ravenclaw. "They don't have legs? Really?"

Ravenclaw frowned right back. "Details are important."

"Not that sort of detail, especially not in the middle of a battle," he protested. Ravenclaw merely raised an eyebrow.

"It kept you in the right state of mind, did it not?"

Gryffindor stared at her for a moment, then smiled. "I suppose it did." He tilted his head to one side, then lowered his wand. "They're gone."

Hermione frowned. "How can you tell? I thought we were outside the wards."

"We are," Hufflepuff told her, "the main ones at least. Salazar set up weaker monitoring alarms for another half mile. Just in case."

Ron's jaw dropped open for a second. "Seriously?"

Gryffindor shrugged. "Apparently it isn't paranoia if people really are trying to kill you."

Harry snorted. "Can't argue with that." He looked up in time to see Prongs come to a stop in front of him. "Thanks," he whispered. He reached out to touch the gleaming muzzle, but as usual, it faded into wisps of smoke. Harry sighed and looked round to see the others watching their own Patronuses disappear with similarly wistful expressions.

"I love magic," said Hufflepuff quietly.

Harry just nodded. "It's been my favourite spell ever since I learned it."

Hufflepuff caught his eye. "It may be mine too." She smiled at him, then made her way over to check on Ron and Hermione, though Harry guessed from their animated conversation and Ravenclaw's amused expression that they were both fine. He himself felt a lot better than he expected. Fighting off Dementors was a lot easier with people beside him. Slytherin's words from that morning came back to him, and Harry shook his head. Maybe.

Only one person wasn't sharing in the general excitement. Gryffindor stood a little way apart, staring out in the direction the Dementors had gone with a very grim expression on his face. Harry hesitated a moment, then walked over to join him.

"Do you think they'll be back?" he asked quietly.

Gryffindor sighed. "If not them, then others." He shook himself and smiled down at Harry. "But they are gone for now, and we have you and your spell to thank for it."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up and he looked down at his trainers. "You would have figured it out soon."

"Not soon enough for this," Gryffindor pointed out. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry had to smile back, his heart practically bursting with pride. After everything the Founders had done for them, it was good to be able to give something back.


Ron sat back in his chair, content to let the conversation drift over him as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. He had encountered Dementors before, but never that many, and he had certainly never tried to fight them. If Harry and the Founders hadn't been there he wouldn't have dared. But it was over now, and he had helped. The thought sent a warm glow of pride through his body, helping to banish the last of the terrible icy terror that had gripped him. He let his gaze wander round the room, checking automatically that Harry and Hermione were all right. They were currently discussing the various meanings of the Patronuses with the Founders. Ron smiled and leaned back. Everyone was fine.

Then he realised that he was not the only one not participating in the conversation. Ron hesitated for a brief minute before sliding along the sofa and leaning in towards the fire. "It's getting cold out there," he said quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Slytherin start. "Indeed." He sounded more bemused than irritated, and Ron allowed himself to relax slightly.

"Course, the Dementors don't help. Bloody freezing they are."

Slytherin's face twisted into a grimace. "I've noticed that. Most frustrating."

Ron knew that he wasn't the most perceptive of people, unless they were someone he knew very well. He was more than willing to defer to Hermione in that area. However, it was impossible to miss the despondency in the Founder's voice. "I hate them."

There was a short bark of laughter. "I doubt you will find a single person alive who disagrees with you."

Ron nodded. "Even Hagrid hates them, and this is the guy who thinks dragons are sweet and acromantulas are harmless." He shuddered as the freshly-stirred memories rose up again. "Hagrid's a bit weird."

A faint smile touched Slytherin's lips. "He sounds it. Not even Helga would describe a dragon as sweet. Although she did think it was beautiful." Exasperation was mingled with unmistakeable affection in his voice, and Ron had to smile too.

"Sounds like she'd get on well with Hagrid."

"I agree." He glanced at Ron. "I hope you did not find today's experience too distressing."

Ron shook his head. "Some bad memories, but nothing worse than I usually have nightmares about."

Slytherin's face creased into a frown. "Are the Dream-Catchers still functioning adequately?"

"They're brilliant," Ron was quick to assure him. "I haven't had a nightmare since arriving here."

Slytherin visibly relaxed at that. "Good. I will need to check on them at some point in the next few weeks; though they are simple enough to produce they do require frequent maintenance."

Ron nodded. "Thanks." He glanced over at Harry and lowered his voice. "I know Harry appreciates it too. He never tells us when he's had one, but it's always easy to work it out anyway. We were getting worried about him."

Slytherin gave a slightly bitter smile. "I am glad I was able to help."

"You have," said Ron firmly. "And not just with that. Potions, Occlumency, everything." He fell silent, unwilling to give too much away, but wasn't particularly surprised to see Slytherin's eyes narrow.

"You see a great deal, Ron."

Ron just shrugged. "I'm not completely oblivious, despite what Hermione might think."

After all, when you were best friends with Harry Potter you learned to tell when someone was feeling guilty. It had been laughably easy to guess that Slytherin would beat himself up for not being able to help with the Dementors. Ron got quite enough self-recrimination from Harry. He had no particular desire to see Slytherin going through it too. And after the conflict the previous day, a little reassurance couldn't hurt.

"So I see," said Slytherin quietly. Ron felt his ears heat up. It was quite clear from Slytherin's tone that he knew exactly what Ron was trying to do. But his expression had softened and there was noticeably less tension in his body so Ron decided he didn't care.

"I see someone beat me to it."

Ron looked up with a start. Gryffindor had pushed his chair back from the main group so that he was sitting at a right angle to Slytherin, and Ron's ears blazed even brighter at the unmistakeable pride in his eyes. Slytherin gave a slight smile.

"He has a sensible way of looking at things."

Ron just shrugged again. "I know how it feels," he said quietly. After all, how often did he feel useless because Harry and Hermione were able to do so much more than him? Slytherin looked at him, and Ron wasn't surprised to see complete understanding in his gaze. Gryffindor looked between the two of them and nodded.

"I'm just glad you listen to him, if not to me." He didn't elaborate on who he was speaking to. Ron supposed that it didn't matter. Instead he watched as Gryffindor turned to Slytherin. "I'm sorry."

Slytherin shook his head. "I was being a fool."

"And I was unnecessarily harsh." He shifted uncomfortably. His voice when he eventually spoke was barely above a whisper. "I do not want to lose you too."

Slytherin looked up and something seemed to pass between the two of them. Slytherin nodded and raised his voice. "Harry."

Harry leaned forwards to look at him. "Yes, sir?"

Slytherin's grip tightened on his staff but his voice remained level. "We need to find a suitable time to practise the Patronus Charm."

Harry visibly swallowed. "Um, yeah, I guess so." He hesitated a moment, but took the plunge. "Not right now?" Ron saw his gaze flicker to Hufflepuff, but Slytherin was already shaking his head.

"I need some time. However, we cannot afford to be taken off guard again."

Harry still didn't look happy, but Ron already knew what his answer would be. "All right."

"Thank you."

Ron allowed himself a small smile. They were safe. Everyone was alive, if not entirely healthy. All things considered, that was not such a bad result.


The next two weeks passed in a blur. Harry had been glad of the break when the Founders told them they would be shortening their lessons, but relief had turned to dismay when sessions on modern history and culture had been added to the curriculum. He and Ron struggled through it, but Hermione practically had to be dragged away each evening.

"But don't you see what an incredible opportunity this is?" she had cried, when Ron had once again demanded to know what the fuss was all about. "How many historians actually get to live in and talk to the people of a completely different time period?"

Ron had been left shaking his head. "Told you. Bloody mental that one."

Harry agreed, but he had another problem to worry about. Slytherin hadn't forgotten their discussion on Patronus lessons, and had sought Harry out the moment Hufflepuff declared him well enough.

"They have used Dementors in the past," he had said, when Harry tried to get him to wait. "They know how effective they are, and they are certain to try again. I have to be ready for them."

Considering it was very similar to the argument he himself had used on Lupin, Harry hadn't really been able to say no. Fortunately, Gryffindor had reminded both of them that one of the other Founders would be present during every single session, much to Harry's relief. Slytherin had muttered something about over-protective friends, but the lack of any real protest spoke more loudly than words.

The sessions themselves had gone as well as Harry had expected. Slytherin had no problems with the charm itself, but he simply couldn't handle the Dementor. Having seen Slytherin's Boggart Harry couldn't blame him, but he had no idea what to do to help. Slytherin was furious with himself, and would have increased their sessions but Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had all put their foot down.

"Working yourself into exhaustion isn't going to do any good," Gryffindor had told him flatly. "I'm not going to tell you to give it up because I know you won't, but I am not going to let you kill yourself."

Slytherin hadn't been pleased, but he had agreed to stick to one session a week. Harry had made a point to thank the other Founders for that; he wanted to help as much as he could, but he knew from experience that overdoing it with a Dementor was not a good idea. Besides, once the term started they would all have other things to worry about.

They had also met some of the other Hogwarts teachers, who had arrived during the last week. They all liked Madam Anwen, a cheerful witch with silver hair and bright green eyes who taught Astronomy, and Master Kentigern, who taught literacy and numeracy, and who Ron claimed was the spitting image of his grandfather. Both were very interested in the trio, but Hufflepuff assured them afterwards that neither had thought anything was wrong.

Of course, it wasn't all smooth going.

It was two days before the rest of the students were due to return. Harry and the others had been in the middle of a duelling lesson when Gryffindor and Slytherin had been called away to deal with a dragon that had wandered a little too close to a Muggle village. They hadn't thought it was the Order, on the grounds that they would have used any dragon other than the relatively gentle Welsh Green, but Harry still found it hard to keep his attention on his duelling while he waited for them to get back.

"Stupefy!"

Harry swerved away from the red light and flicked his wand. "Silencio," he whispered. Ron's eyes widened as he realised what Harry had done, but by that time Harry had caught him with his favourite Disarming Charm.

"Well done, Harry," Hermione called. Ron rolled his eyes, but he was grinning as Harry lifted the charm and handed him back his wand.

"Duelling you is no fun any more."

"Whose fault is that?" Harry shot back.

Ron snorted. "I really want to be there when you duel Edmund."

Harry grinned back, but Hermione shook her head. "I still can't believe Gryffindor and Slytherin are going to let you that."

Harry couldn't either, not that he would admit it, but Gryffindor had been as enthusiastic about the idea as Slytherin. Both were very keen that the trio get as much experience as possible in a non-lethal setting. "You next, Hermione?" he asked.

"Harry-"

"I've only got a week to prepare," Harry pointed out. "Do you really want to see me lose to a Slytherin?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were past this."

"It's a matter of principle," Ron told her seriously. "We don't want to let Professor Gryffindor down, do we?"

Harry snorted at the expression on Hermione's face, but at the moment a deep shout echoed through the room.

"And who might you three young scoundrels be?"

Harry spun raised, wand automatically coming up to the point at the stranger. The man who addressed them was very tall, with a bald head and deep brown skin. His own wand was in his hand, and a long curved sword hung from his belt, and from the way he held himself Harry had no doubt that he knew how to use both. He felt Ron and Hermione come up to stand behind him and swallowed. "My name is Harry. These are Ron and Hermione. We are students here."

The man took a step into the room, his dark eyes sweeping over the three of them. "Is that so? And do you know how to use the wands you carry?"

"Why don't you find out?" Ron shouted.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, but the stranger's mouth curved into a wolfish grin.

"A most excellent suggestion."

A week ago, Harry would have stated with complete confidence that no one could move faster than Godric Gryffindor. Now though only pure instinct had his Shield Charm up in time to deflect the three Stunning Spells that had flown at them.

"Move!" he shouted. Ron and Hermione scattered, and Harry prepared a stunner of his own, but he was forced to throw himself sideways as another spell shot by him with bare inches to spare.

"Good reflexes," the man called. Harry stared. If he hadn't know better from watching Slytherin he would swear this man was Apparating too, but no, he was just fast. Really fast. So fast that he looked almost bored as he took on Ron and Hermione. Ron caught his eye.

"Little help here?"

Harry gritted his teeth, and hurled himself into the duel.

They tried everything. Harry ducked, dodged and cast as fast as he ever had, Hermione used spells Harry had never even heard of, and Ron did his best to set up even the most rudimentary strategies he could think of, but all to no avail. The stranger didn't seem to have the uncanny battle instincts that Gryffindor did, and he didn't use tricks and misdirection like Slytherin; he was just fast enough that none of their spells even got near him.

Worse still, he didn't even seem out of breath.

"Obvious," he called, as he dodged out of Ron's trap without even batting an eyelid. "Are you trying to be insulting?" he asked a moment later when he deflected Hermione's curse with an almost contemptuous flick of his wand. "Honestly, I expected more."

Harry's lungs were burning, but at that he dug deep and launched a flurry of curses at the stranger. For a second the man's eyes widened, and Harry felt a gleam of triumph, but then that smirk showed again and the next thing Harry knew he was flat on his back and his wand was nowhere in sight.

"Harry-oof!"

"Gah!"

Twin thumps accompanied the yells, and Harry pushed himself up in time to see Ron and Hermione sprawled on the ground a little way away. Sweat was stinging his eyes, and his heart pound in his ears, but he made out the stranger's tall form rolling their wands in his hands and watching them with an appraising eye.

"Who the hell are you?" Harry managed.

The stranger grinned, and then Harry realised that they weren't alone. He went bright red and sank back to the floor. "Oh, come on!"

There was a familiar booming laugh, and Gryffindor's grinning face swam into view. "Oh I don't know," he said cheerfully. "I thought you did very well."

"Bloody hell," Ron wheezed. "What was that?"

More footsteps approached, and Harry made out Ravenclaw's dry voice. "Really, Safdar?"

"You told me they were good," the man, Safdar, said. "I merely wanted to see for myself."

"By duelling them to the pint of exhaustion?" Hufflepuff asked, but her voice was coloured with more amusement than exasperation.

"At least I know what they are capable of."

Harry stared at him, then at Gryffindor. "He teaches here?" He didn't even try to keep the incredulity from his voice. Gryffindor laughed and pulled him to his feet.

"He does, and we are lucky to have him."

"Lucky," Ron muttered, as he staggered up. "Right."

Hermione was bent over breathing heavily. Safdar shrugged his broad shoulders. "It is always good to see these things for oneself." He glanced at Gryffindor. "They have potential. Now, if you would excuse me?"

He bowed to the Founders and left the room. Harry stared after him, then at the four Founders, who were exchanging fond looks. "Does he do that with everyone?"

"Only those he thinks show promise," said Hufflepuff. "And he was quite impressed with the three of you."

"Impressed by what?" Harry demanded. "How fast we could lose a duel? How easily we could be disarmed?" Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow, but Harry still felt hot with embarrassment. Bad enough that they had been beaten so easily, but to lose in front of an audience, especially this audience, was a hundred times worse. Slytherin glanced at him.

"You were never going to win," he said simply. "But your persistence, adaptability and creativity pleased him greatly. And us."

"But who is he?" Hermione asked, before Harry could say anything. "And how was he that fast?"

"He's the only person we've ever met that Godric can't beat," Slytherin explained. "And he's been trying for nearly thirty years."

Gryffindor mock-scowled at him. "He's never beaten me either."

Ron's jaw was hanging open. "He's that good?"

"He's a genius," said Gryffindor. The pride in his face was unmistakeable. "He has no interest in any other field of magic, but he's practically unstoppable in a duel."

Ravenclaw nodded. "We are very lucky he agreed to come and teach here. He was not pleased to hear about the incident, especially when the children were threatened."

"And he's decided that Godric is not allowed to die until one of them finally beats the other," said Slytherin with a smirk.

Gryffindor returned it. "One day," he promised.

Harry nodded. Now that the embarrassment was fading, he was beginning to see the opportunity. "Is he going to be teaching us?"

"We share those classes," Gryffindor confirmed. His eyes twinkled. "His style is a little different to mine."

"We noticed," Harry muttered, but he couldn't stop himself grinning back. This could be very useful indeed.


"I did it!"

The shout shattered Harry's concentration, but for once he wasn't the slightest bit annoyed. "That's brilliant, Ron!"

Ron was wearing the biggest smile Harry had seen on him in a long time. "I finally did it." He frowned suddenly and looked at Slytherin. "Did I?"

Slytherin smiled at him. "You did indeed, and very well too."

Hermione beamed and threw her arms around Ron. "Congratulations! I'm so pleased for you."

Harry hadn't thought Ron could look any happier, but the glow in his best friend's eyes as he hugged Hermione back proved him wrong. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "It's about time I stopped holding you both back."

Hermione pulled back enough to slap him on the arm. "Don't be ridiculous," she said sharply. "Harry only did it yesterday."

"Yeah, Ron," said Harry. "How dare you take a whole day long than me?"

Ron's ears went red. "All right, I get it." He let go of Hermione and stepped back. "Let's just hope it wasn't a fluke." He screwed up his face. For a horrible second Harry thought nothing was happening, but then there was a loud crack and Ron appeared next to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"I don't know what a fluke is, but I think we can safely say that that wasn't one," said Slytherin dryly.

Harry grinned at him. "It means he wasn't just lucky," he explained. "We're all finally getting it."

"Indeed you are," Slytherin confirmed. "You have all done very well."

Harry let out a contented sigh. He and Ron had been determined to master Apparition before the rest of the students returned and their lesson time was reduced. Despite Hermione and Slytherin's best efforts, they had begun to give up hope as their self-imposed deadline drew closer, especially as the morning of their last lesson dawned, but their persistence had paid off.

"And you had a whole twenty minutes to spare," Hermione murmured to him. Harry grinned, and she turned to Slytherin. "Does this mean you can start to teach us how to use Apparition in battle, sir?"

Harry and Ron both turned their attention to Slytherin, who smiled. "I don't see why not."

Ron let out a loud whoop and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Wicked."

"Brilliant," Harry agreed.

Hermione's face was glowing. Harry knew she had been fascinated by Slytherin's chosen style ever since she had seen it. Slytherin nodded approvingly at their enthusiasm. "Godric and I will arrange some sessions. For now, however, you have earned a rest." His eyes gleamed. "You will need it for tomorrow."

Harry nodded. He was looking forward to meeting the other students, and seeing what formal lessons would be like, but his stomach was already a ball of nerves. All the Founders had been encouraging, but Harry knew just how easy it would be slip up. Hermione, however, looked disappointed.

"We don't have anything else today?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Are you allergic to holidays or something?"

Hermione scowled at him, but to Harry's surprise Slytherin was shaking his head. "As a matter of fact, we do have something in mind. Gather your cloaks and meet us in the Entrance Hall in ten minutes."

Harry stared at him. "Where are we going?"

Slytherin just smiled. "You will see." With that he Disapparated, leaving the trio staring at each other.

"Okay," said Ron slowly. "What do you reckon this is about?"

"They could be taking us into the Forest again," said Hermione dubiously. "Or we could just be having lessons outside. Or, Harry, where are you going?"

Harry glanced back over his shoulder. "I'm going to get my cloak so I can actually find out."

Ten minutes later the three of them came down the stairs to find all four Founders waiting for them. All were wearing thick cloaks, and looked up with smiles as Harry and the others approached.

"There you are," said Gryffindor. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," said Ron, "but where are we going?"

Gryffindor laughed. "You haven't guessed yet?"

They had tried, but when the Founders were more than capable of taking them all over the country it wasn't as easy as it sounded. At Gryffindor's words though, Hermione suddenly gasped. "Have we been over-thinking this?"

Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchanged grins, but Harry frowned at her. "What?"

"Why would we need to Apparate anywhere?" Hermione asked him.

Harry got it at the same time as Ron let out a startled, "Bloody hell!"

"Ron," Ravenclaw began.

"Sorry," said Ron quickly. "But are you seriously taking us to Hogsmeade?"

"Why not?" said Hufflepuff. "You haven't seen it under the best circumstances."

Harry nodded. "It'll be nice to look round without people trying to kill us," he said seriously. "But aren't you really busy with everything happening tomorrow?"

"We have it under control," Hufflepuff assured him, as they made their way down to the gates. "We haven't been doing nothing while you are in your lessons, you know."

"And we needed to check in on those staying in Hogsmeade anyway," Gryffindor added.

Hermione looked round at him, eyes widened. "There are students here already?"

Hufflepuff nodded. "Some of our older pupils like to gather in Hogwarts before term starts. Fortunately we did not have to bring in any Muggleborns early this year, so the rest will arrive tomorrow."

"Will we get to meet them?" Harry asked. It would be nice to already know some of their classmates before the chaos the next day would bring. There were nods from all their teachers.

"They are staying at Hengist's inn, so we will visit once you have had a look round," said Gryffindor.

Harry had always enjoyed the walk down to Hogsmeade, and this was no different. After all, how many people could say they had been shopping in Hogwarts less than ten years after it had been founded? He could hear Ron discussing the some of the differences with an equally fascinated Hufflepuff in front of him. Hermione seemed no less excited, but from what Harry could make out, for the moment she was busy quizzing Gryffindor and Slytherin on the exact mechanics of using Apparition in battle. Harry shook his head. He had long ago given up on trying to understand how Hermione's mind worked. That did remind him of something he had been meaning to ask though, and he looked up at Ravenclaw.

"Can I ask you something, Professor?"

Ravenclaw blinked at him, and smiled. "Always, Harry. You should know that by now."

Harry smiled back. "Sorry, habit. Asking questions wasn't always encouraged at home. Or at Hogwarts for that really."

Ravenclaw's lips thinned, and she shook her head. "I would dearly like to visit some of your teachers," she said. "Answering the questions is the whole point of what we do."

Harry suddenly had the image of Umbridge explaining her teaching methods to four furious Founders and had to bite back the urge to laugh. "I'd like to see that." Maybe he should tell them about Umbridge at some point. Their reactions would no doubt fuel a very powerful Patronus. "Most of them are really good though," he felt obliged to point out.

"Good," she said firmly. "But enough of that. What did you want to know?"

Harry shifted his gaze from hers. He wanted to know, but asking always felt uncomfortable. "I was just wondering how the time travel research was going?" Ravenclaw sighed, and he winced. "Sorry, I know you've busy-"

"There is no need to apologise, Harry," Ravenclaw interrupted. "It is perfectly understandable that you want to go home. Unfortunately, the past few weeks have been a little hectic, and I have not made as much progress as I had hoped."

Harry nodded. He hadn't really expected anything else. Ravenclaw laid a hand on his shoulder. "I promise I will alert you to any developments."

"Thanks," said Harry. He pulled his cloak around him and looked up at the sky. "You know, I actually think I'm beginning to get used to it here."

Yes, everything was different, from the basics like the food and clothes, to the very magic they used, but they had begun to adapt over the past couple of months. Harry was still anxious to get home, not least to make sure Neville, Ginny and Luna were all right, but he would never regret the time he had spent in the past.

"I am glad to hear it," said Ravenclaw quietly. "We will get you home, Harry. I hope you know that it has been a pleasure to get to know you though."

Harry smiled. "We feel the same way. We've got a lot to tell everyone when we get back." His gaze wandered to where Hermione was giggling at one of Slytherin and Gryffindor's sibling style arguments. "Especially on some things."

Ravenclaw had followed his gaze. "That is good to know." The affection in her voice was unmistakeable. "We will all miss you." She seemed about to say something, but suddenly stopped short, her face draining of colour. Harry froze, heart pounding in alarm.

"Professor?"

There was no reply, and he was just whirling back to shout for Gryffindor when Ravenclaw let out a long, shuddering breath. "I am all right," she said softly.

Harry eyed her. "Are you sure?" She was still far too pale, and when she raised her hand to her forehead he saw her fingers tremble, but she nodded.

"It is nothing." She hesitated a moment, then sighed. "I have the Sight. Sometimes..." She took a deep breath and visibly pulled herself together. "It is nothing. Do not be concerned, Harry."

"All right," said Harry quietly. On impulse he offered her his arm, relieved that he'd finally grown to something resembling a normal height, and was rewarded with a smile. "So you Saw something?"

For a second she was silent, but then she shook her head. "I am not sure. It only lasted a moment, and it wasn't clear." But her eyes were on their group of friends, and Harry felt a rush of foreboding.

"It was something to do with one of us, wasn't it?"

Ravenclaw sighed. "Harry, you of all people know how unreliable the Sight can be."

"Yeah," said Harry quietly. "But you're also as different from Trelawney as its possible to be."

That earned him another small smile. "I will take that as a compliment."

Harry smiled back. "It was supposed to be." They started walking again, though their pace was slower than before, and Ravenclaw was leaning on him slightly. At his comment she shot him an amused look.

"Has Godric been giving you lessons the rest of don't know about?"

"I am a Gryffindor," Harry pointed out. He kept his tone light, but the pallor of her skin was still worrying him. "Are you sure you want to keep going?"

"One vision is not going to stop me," she said firmly.

Harry recognised the gleam in her eye, and knew better than to press the matter. "All right." He hesitated, then added, "Is there anything else I can do?"

Ravenclaw squeeze his hand. "You have already been a great help. Just try not to worry." She gave a slight smile. "Nothing has happened yet, after all."

Harry sighed, but at that moment Hermione happened to glance back. By now they were a considerable distance from the others, and Harry wasn't surprised when Hermione immediately caught Gryffindor's arm. Gryffindor took one look and instantly Apparated to Ravenclaw's side.

"Are you all right?" he demanded. "What happened?"

Ravenclaw laid a hand on his arm. "It is nothing," she insisted. "Just a vision."

Gryffindor's green eyes didn't leave her brown ones. "Are you sure you are well?"

Ravenclaw extracted her other arm from Harry's to take his hand. "I am sure. Do not worry about me."

Harry had to look away from the intensity of their gaze. It was clear his presence wasn't needed any more, and he slipped down the path to where the others were waiting.

"What happened?" Hermione asked as soon as Harry got within earshot. "Is Professor Ravenclaw all right? Should we go back to the castle? What if-"

"She's fine, Hermione," Harry finally managed to interrupt.

Hermione frowned, but Hufflepuff caught his eye. "She had a vision?" Neither she nor Slytherin seemed surprised when Harry nodded. "Then there is nothing to be concerned about, my dears."

Hermione still looked dubious, but Ron nudged her. "I think they know what they're doing," he murmured.

Hermione blinked, then gave him a small smile. "Yes, of course."

Harry didn't say anything, Ravenclaw's cryptic comments about what she had seen were still weighing on his mind. He understood that visions could be unclear and difficult to interpret, he had picked up that much from Divination, but Ravenclaw had seemed badly shaken. Considering how reserved she always seemed, and her reaction afterwards, that could only mean it somehow involved one of the other Founders, and that thought worried Harry more than he was willing to admit.

But there was nothing he could do about it. No doubt Ravenclaw would confide in her friends, and anyway, they were the Founders. Harry would bet his entire fortune that they of all people could handle what was coming. In any case, there wasn't much point in worrying about something that hadn't happened yet, especially when he didn't know what it was, when it was supposed to happen, who it was going to affect...

Harry had to smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. He would keep his eyes open, but there was no point in worrying about something he had absolutely no control over.

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor rejoined them a couple of minutes later. Ravenclaw still looked a little pale, but she assured all of them that there was absolutely nothing to be concerned about. Harry didn't miss the meaningful look she gave the other Founders, but he did his best to keep his mind off of it. Instead he drew Gryffindor and Slytherin into a discussion about Zonko's joke shop that had everyone laughing until they finally got to their destination.

"It really hasn't changed that much, has it?" said Ron.

Harry could only shake his head. It was smaller, certainly, and the architecture was very different, but it was unmistakeably Hogsmeade. The main street curved in exactly the same way it did in the future, and wizards were bustling to and fro with arms full of shopping. Hufflepuff let out a contented sigh.

"Hengist did a wonderful job."

"That he did," said Gryffindor. He grinned at the trio. "There may not be a joke shop, but there's an apothecary, somewhere students can buy new robes, and anything else they might need."

"It's like Diagon Alley," said Hermione. Her eyes were very wide as she tried to take everything in. "How long has it been here?"

"Hengist finished his education four years ago," Gryffindor told her. "His parents run a tavern, and he saw an opportunity here. It's been growing ever since."

"Wow," Ron breathed. Harry couldn't blame him; it was one thing to read about how places like Hogsmeade had grown, it was another entirely to see it for themselves. Slytherin smiled at their reactions.

"We are very proud of all our students," he said. "And some continue to surprise us."

Gryffindor clapped his hands together. "Correct. Now, we imagine you want to look around without us old folks," Ravenclaw rolled her eyes and Slytherin snorted, but his grin just widened, "but there is one shop we would like to accompany you to."

Harry was glad to see Ron and Hermione looked as mystified as he was. The smiles and smirks passing between the Founders were not helping matters. "Okay, but -"

"Excellent," said Gryffindor loudly. "Follow me, then."

He set off down the street without another word. Ravenclaw shook her head. "Always so dramatic," she muttered, before heading after him. Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchanged amused looks and followed. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione.

"At least they're having fun."

Ron snorted. "We're being teased by the Founders of Hogwarts. No one is going to believe this."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Because this is the strangest thing that's happened on this trip."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's just go and see what they've been planning."

Harry nodded, and they set off after their teachers. The four seemed a familiar sight to the villagers; they were greeted by almost everyone they met, and Harry saw a couple of people stop and exchange a few words with Hufflepuff. Both times Hufflepuff took them aside and Harry caught the glow of her healing magic before she returned to the others. It was another reminder of just respected their teachers were.

All other thoughts were driven from his mind though when he realised just which shop they were waiting by.

"No way."

Ron's eyes were wide as saucers, and Hermione's mouth had fallen open. Gryffindor laughed at their reactions.

"I told you, there's no good reason not to have a secondary wand."

Harry finally tore his gaze from the swinging Ollivander's sign to stare at him. "You're serious?"

"Of course," said Slytherin. "Having an extra wand has saved both mine and Godric's lives, and you will need all the advantages you can get when you return to face Voldemort."

Harry certainly wasn't arguing, but Hermione had evidently found her voice. "But we don't have any money."

Gryffindor waved a hand. "We make sure every student has a wand from Ollivander. You are our students, therefore it is our responsibility."

"But-"

"Hermione, it is our decision," said Ravenclaw firmly. "And we are all agree that we want to do this."

Hermione hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. "Thank you."

Harry had to keep himself from bouncing in anticipation. He liked his wand, but having a back up could only be a good thing, and having a back up that no one in the future knew about was even better.

Stepping into the shop brought back a flood of memories. It was much bigger on the inside than it had appeared from the outside, and the layout was very similar to Ollivanders in Diagon Alley, with a small open area and shelves stacked with boxes towards the back. A small work bench sat by the door, upon which lay an array of tools and materials that Harry had never seen before. Most familiar of all though was the prickle of magic that swirled around his skin the second he stepped he through the door. A man stood up from the bench as they entered, and Hufflepuff turned to them with a smile.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, may I introduce Gervase Ollivander."

Harry would never have needed the introduction. This Ollivander was young, with only a few flecks of grey in his black hair, but there was no mistaking those silvery eyes. He gave a slight bow at Hufflepuff's words. "It is always a pleasure to meet new students." His voice was rich and warm. "Have any of you owned a wand before?"

Harry blinked at the question before remembering what time they were in. "Yeah," he said.

Gryffindor coughed. "They are looking for secondary wands."

Ollivander raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't react. "Very well." He turned to Hermione. "May I see your current wand?"

Hermione hesitated only a moment before handing her wand over. "It's made of vine wood, with a dragon heartstrings core," she said. "I've had it since I was eleven. We all got our wands at the same time."

Ollivander nodded absently. He was studying her wand very closely, his eyes wide. "Exquisite craftsmanship," he murmured. "Whoever made this was talented indeed."

Harry grinned. "We will be sure to tell him so." No doubt the Ollivander of their time would be delighted by the praise. Ollivander glanced at Hermione.

"I am afraid I have few wands of this quality," he said. "May I ask how you came by it?"

"It's a long story," said Slytherin, when Hermione went pink. "These three have travelled a very long way."

Ollivander studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "I will see what I can do." His looked Hermione up and down for a minute then flicked his wand. A dozen boxes flew through the air and landed neatly on the bench. He picked up he first one and handed it to her. "Fir, with a hair from a kelpie."

Hermione flicked it then shook her head. Undeterred, Ollivander turned to back to the bench. "Very well. Cedar, with a core of unicorn hair."

It took several more tries, and Harry was beginning to grow restless, when Ollivander's expression turned thoughtful. "I wonder..." He pushed a couple of boxes aside and picked up the one underneath. "If we stay with the dragon heartstring, but use walnut..."

"Walnut and dragon heartstring?" Hufflepuff repeated. Harry glanced at her, and saw she looked taken aback. Ollivander just shrugged again and handed it to Hermione.

Harry felt a shift in the magic at the same moment Hermione gasped. Red and silver sparks erupted from her wand, and Ollivander smiled. "Excellent." He took it from her and placed it carefully back in the box. "A powerful wand for an intelligent witch. Be sure to use it wisely."

Hermione took it from him with equal care, her face slightly uncertain. "I will, sir. Thank you."

Ollivander just nodded and turned expectantly to Ron.

Finding Ron's new wand went much faster. Ollivander seemed to have learned from experimenting with Hermione, and only gave Ron wands with unicorn tail hair cores, like that of his current wand, to try. A few minutes later, Ron summoned a shower of gold sparks with a wand made of larch. Harry had time to catch Hufflepuff's approving nod before it was his turn.

Ollivander seemed taken aback by the fact that his wand contained a phoenix tail feather. "Ingenious," he murmured. "Most ingenious." He glanced at Harry. "I had never thought to use a phoenix feather. How did you come by this wand?"

Harry thought quickly. "My grandfather was bonded to a phoenix," he said. "He donated one of his feathers."

Ollivander nodded thoughtfully. "I will have to experiment. The wands I could make..." For a moment he stood lost in thought, then shook himself. "In the meantime, let me see if I have anything suitable for you."

Harry wasn't surprised when he ended up taking longer than Ron and Hermione combined, but in the end he felt the familiar warmth when Ollivander handed him a blackthorn wood wand containing a hair from a banshee. The wandmaker nodded when Harry swept it through the air in a flurry of red and amber sparks. "A powerful duelling wand, this one. I should warn you though, Harry, that banshee cores do not like to perform healing magic."

"I understand," said Harry, but he didn't take his eyes from his wand. The wood felt warm in his hand, and he somehow knew that he could win any fight he wanted with this wand. Not being able to use healing magic was a surprise, but Harry still wasn't much good at those spells anyway, and he would have his holly and phoenix feather wand. "Thank you, sir."

Hufflepuff smiled and stepped forwards. "Thank you, Gervase," she said warmly. "Kentigern will be down in two days time with any students who still need wands, and he will make the usual arrangements."

Ollivander bowed. "It was an honour, as always, Helga."

The trio thanked him once before, then Slytherin ushered them from the shop.

Once outside, Gryffindor turned to Hufflepuff. "You approve?"

"I do," said Hufflepuff, with a nod. "I studied wandlore under Gervase's father. It is a fascinating art," she explained, when Harry shot her a questioning look. "Though I was surprised by Hermione's wand."

"I noticed," said Hermione quietly. "Can I ask why?"

"Of course." She thought for a moment. "From what I can gather, dragon heartstrings make very powerful wands, and ones that can be used for any sort of magic the owner requires. Walnut is much the same. That wand will perform whatever magic you require of it, no matter what the consequences might be."

Ron frowned at her. "You're talking like it can think."

"In a sense, it can," Hufflepuff replied. "Wands have very different properties, depending on the wood and core, and will perform different types of magic with varying willingness and strength. Hermione's, though, will do whatever she wishes it to."

That didn't sound at all bad to Harry, but Hermione was staring at her new wand with an unreadable expression. As Harry watched, she shared a look with Slytherin, and something Harry couldn't quite understand passed between them. His attention was diverted though when Ron asked, "What about my wand?"

Hufflepuff smiled. "Larch wands are said to bring out their owner's hidden talents. You may find magic you had never expected coming much more easily to you with it."

Ron looked slightly sceptical, but he rested a hand protectively over the box.

Harry couldn't resist. "And mine?"

"Yours is the wand of a warrior," said Hufflepuff quietly. "Once it has fully bonded to you it will perform very powerful magic indeed."

Harry just nodded. It sounded like just what he needed. Part of him felt regretful, he had never wanted to be a soldier, but that couldn't be helped. He had to stop Voldemort and his followers, and this wand would help him to do so.

Gryffindor was talking, and Harry wrenched his attention back to the present. "You will need to practice with these wands to get used to them, but that can wait for another day. You can spend the rest of the day as you wish."

"We will be around should you need us," Hufflepuff added. "And you will no doubt find some of the students in Hengist's tavern."

Ron frowned. "So what happens tomorrow then? Do they all just come up when they arrive?"

Gryffindor shook his head. "I will go and collect them around late afternoon and bring them up to the castle. It has become a tradition of sorts. It's a good way for the students to mingle before being Sorted."

Ron scratched his head. "Yeah, but it must be a bit risky. I mean, if everyone knows you're going to be wandering up to the school with a load of kids..." He trailed off abruptly, eyes going wide as he realised just what he had said.

Gryffindor had gone white. "My God," he breathed.

For a moment, Harry couldn't breathe. The image of dozens of children not even realising they would under attack left him dizzy. Good as he was, Gryffindor couldn't defend them all alone. If this happened...

"No wonder they have been so quiet over the last two weeks," Slytherin whispered. He was gripping his staff so tightly Harry heard his knuckles crack. "All the while they were waiting for this."

Hufflepuff swallowed. "We do not know for sure," she began, but Slytherin shook his head.

"We cannot take the chance." He swore and slammed his staff on the floor. "How did we not consider this?"

"We should have," said Gryffindor quietly. "I should have realised-"

Ravenclaw's eyes flashed. "Godric Gryffindor, don't you dare start blaming yourself!"

Gryffindor blinked. "But Rowena-"

"No!" Ravenclaw snapped. "All the time you spend weeks thinking about what you should have done then, and how you could have prevented that, and I have had enough of it. I don't care how good a warrior you are, you do not know everything, and you are an utter fool if you expect to."

"And that goes for you too," said Hufflepuff sharply to the Slytherin. The dark haired Founder stared at her.

"What? I didn't even say anything."

Hufflepuff continued to glare at him. "Not yet, but you are just as bad as he is. I know you feel responsible-"

"Because we are," Slytherin protested.

"But you cannot continue to blame yourselves for every single thing that goes wrong," Hufflepuff continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And don't think I won't hex you if I hear you say one word otherwise."

Harry didn't know whether to applaud or burst out laughing. The gobsmacked expressions on Gryffindor and Slytherin's faces were absolutely priceless. Ron's shoulders were shaking, and he had stuffed a fist in his mouth, while Hermione was gaping at their teachers as if she couldn't believe her eyes. Ravenclaw placed her hands on her hips and glared at the pair of them.

"You do your best. That is all you have ever done, and all we will ever ask of you. Now, what do you want to do about this?"

For a long minute, neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin spoke, then Slytherin glanced at his friend. "Fair point."

Gryffindor blinked, and nodded. "Indeed." His expression hardened. "We are going to protect our students. We will defend our school." Magic crackled in his hair, and his green eyes blazed. "And anyone who comes against us will wish he had never been born."

Harry found himself gripping his wand. His fear remained, but it was now overlaid with determination. He would help his friends. Gryffindor looked round at them all and have a grim smile.

"This is what we are going to do."


Rowena stood silent as she watched Godric plan their defence. Slytherin stood beside him, his eyes narrowed as his sharp mind plotted their enemies' moves. Both had taken her words to heart, and their focus was now completely on the task at hand. The thought lessened her terror somewhat, but did nothing for her underlying sense of dread. Rowena could defend herself well enough, but she had never liked battles, and waiting for one was nigh on unbearable.

After a vision however, it was a thousand times worse. Especially when the vision was so unclear.

That was the worst part. Her vision might have been of tomorrow's battle, a battle years in the future, or not even of a battle at all. Rowena simply didn't know.

All Rowena did know was that she couldn't lose someone she loved. Not again.

Chapter 17: This is War, Part One

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Over the past couple of months, Harry had gotten used to getting up at the crack of dawn. He still didn't like it, but they had learned very early on that the Founders liked to make the most of the day so he, Ron and Hermione had learned to adjust.

On the morning the students were due to return, though, all three of them were up, dressed, and very much alert an hour earlier than that.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Hermione muttered, as they made their way down to the Great Hall. "I can't believe they're letting us do this."

Harry glanced at her. "Well, we did have to argue them into it," he pointed out. "But it's not like we're going to be completely on our own."

"I know that, but look what happened the last time we tried to help?"

"We drove away a horde of Dementors in about five minutes?"

"You know what I meant, Harry," Hermione snapped. "If Gryffindor and Slytherin hadn't turned up in Hogsmeade we'd all be dead."

"Yeah, but we know what we're doing this time," Ron argued. "And it's like Harry said, it won't be just us and them. Come on, Hermione, you said yourself that it's a good plan."

Hermione bit her lip. "I know it is, but it's still going to be dangerous."

Ron hesitated, then awkwardly reached out to pat her arm. "Nothing's going to happen. Right, Harry?"

He glared pointedly over Hermione's head, but Harry sighed. "Of course it's going to be dangerous, but Ron's right. We do know what we're doing this time. Things are going to be different. You'll see."

Hermione held his gaze for a moment, then glanced at Ron and drew in a deep breath. "We'd better get moving then."

The Great Hall was deserted when the three of them got there. Harry had no appetite, but he knew better than to starve himself on a day like this. Maybe they were all over-reacting. Maybe the Order wasn't planning anything and nothing was actually going to happen, but they couldn't take the risk. All three of them finished eating in record time and went searching for their teachers.

The Entrance Hall was deserted, and Ron let out a long sigh.

"Its times like this I really miss the Map."

Harry grunted his agreement. The Map had been in his pocket when he arrived all those weeks ago, but whatever his dad and his friends had done to it evidently hadn't been meant to survive a thousand year trip through time. Harry had ended up leaving it in his room with the prophecy, and hoping that Sirius and Lupin would be able to fix it when they got back. Hermione looked around.

"It's a shame we don't know how the Founders communicate with Hogwarts," she said. "She knows where they are." She shook her head. "I suppose we should try their offices."

"Hufflepuff's is closest," said Ron, as they started walking. "I'm not going all the way up to the towers if I don't have to."

None of them felt much like talking as they made their way through the familiar corridors. Harry was still trying to process the previous day's events. Despite his earlier words to Hermione he couldn't believe the Founders had actually agreed to let them help to this extent. It was making him a little uneasy. As much as he was glad to be of some use, their agreement showed just how worried they were about the whole situation. And when four of the greatest witches and wizards in history were worried…

Harry looked around at the familiar hallways and let his hand fall to the wands in his pocket. Past and present, Hogwarts was his home. He would do whatever it took to keep it safe.

It didn't take long to reach Hufflepuff's office. The door was half-open, and Harry stepped forward and knocked lightly.

"Come in."

Slytherin and Hufflepuff sat talking quietly in comfortable chairs by the window. The two of them looked exhausted, Hufflepuff was very pale and there were dark shadows under Slytherin's eyes, but both of them gave small smiles as the trio entered.

"Good morning," said Hufflepuff. "Did you sleep well?"

"No," Harry admitted, and Ron and Hermione shook their heads. Hufflepuff sighed, but didn't look at all surprised as she Conjured chairs and gestured for them to sit.

"That is only to be expected, I suppose."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked. "And where is everyone else?"

"Godric is staying in Hogsmeade," Slytherin told her. "He will make sure the younger students, and any who do not wish to fight, will make their way up here through the tunnels. Anwen and Kentigern will remain behind to look after them while we leave."

"Meanwhile, Rowena is using her eagle form to keep a look out," said Hufflepuff. "We are hoping to get some warning of when they gather so Godric knows when to move."

Ron looked very pale under his tan. "You think this will work?"

Slytherin sighed. "There are always risks," he said quietly. "But we believe this is our best chance." He looked round at the trio. "I know you are all determined to help, and I thank you for that. However, if for any reason you should change your minds, you must let us know immediately. It will not change our opinion of you."

Hufflepuff nodded in agreement. "We do not want to see any children die today."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione. Both looked nervous, but neither flinched when he met their eyes. "We know," he said. "But we still want to help."

Hufflepuff sighed, but Slytherin just nodded. "We thought so, but we had to be sure." His expression turned serious. "If there is an attack, the three of you will be with the two of us at all times, as will Helena if she does join us. Rowena, Safdar, and Edmund will form the other group, and Godric will be with any of the older students who choose to fight, and any volunteers from Hogsmeade." He gave a thin smile. "The Order will be in for a surprise if they try to ambush that group."

Ron frowned. "But what they know that something's wrong when they see how few people are with him? You've normally got loads of students, haven't you?"

"Godric will take care of that," Hufflepuff assured him. "And remember that we have far fewer students than you are used to under normal circumstances anyway."

Harry imagined the chaos that would ensue if Voldemort and the Death Eaters ever attacked the carriages when students were returning from the holidays and shuddered. Hopefully Voldemort never thought of that particular strategy. Slytherin caught his eye.

"It is under control," he said gently. "Godric will start sending the younger students through the tunnels as soon as they arrive."

Hermione smiled. "That's a better use for them than sneaking past the teachers."

Harry and Ron gave identical snorts, and Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchanged smiled. "At least they are still getting some use in your time," said Slytherin dryly. "Even if it is not their intended one. But as I was saying, Godric does not normally bring the students up until late afternoon and as we do not want to alert the Order to our knowledge, we are not planning to change that pattern. We therefore have several hours for some final preparations. Is there anything you feel would be useful for you to know or revise?"

Harry considered that. It was too late to learn anything brand new, but going over some of the skills they had been developing couldn't hurt. "Could we do some dueling?"

Slytherin nodded. "If you wish, though we will not be overdoing it."

Ron also looked thoughtful. "What about Apparation? I mean, Harry and I only just really got it, and if we need it later…"

"Agreed," said Slytherin immediately. "I'm sure I do not need to tell you to use it the moment you feel you need to later on. You will not be able to Apparate to Hogwarts, of course, but you should be safe if you return to Hogsmeade. Hengist will be remaining there just in case, and he is a formidable duelist himself."

All three of them nodded. Hufflepuff gave them a small smile. "I will leave you to it, then," she said. "We will let you know as soon as anything happens." She squeezed Slytherin's hand briefly, then rose from her chair and left the room. Slytherin sat looking after her for a minute, then shook his head and turned back to the trio.

"We should not waste any more time."

He was silent for a minute as they made their way up a flight of stairs, and his voice when he did speak was so quiet that Harry nearly missed it.

"I know we have been a little preoccupied, especially regarding your safety, but we appreciate your willingness to help. In this situation we will need every wand we can get."

"It's the least we can do," said Harry firmly.

Ron nodded vigorously, but Hermione tilted her head to one side. "Do you think we should use the wands we got yesterday?" she asked, as Slytherin led the way towards the armoury.

Harry blinked at the question. He hadn't even thought about using his new wand, but if it was as suited for dueling as Ollivander and Hufflepuff seemed to think then it couldn't hurt. Slytherin, though, was shaking his head. "I would advise against it, unless you absolutely have to."

"But why?" Hermione asked. "I mean, they said Harry's wand would be best for fighting, and mine… I might need more power than my current one provides."

Slytherin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I agree. However, it takes time to get used to a new wand. You may find yourself putting more power than you wanted into your spells, and they may produce magical effects that you do not anticipate." He sighed. "If you are disarmed, then yes, do whatever is necessary, but I highly recommend you continue to use the wand you are most familiar with. A battle is not a good time to start experimenting."

Hermione looked disappointed, but didn't argue. Harry touched the handle of his new wand, and felt the sudden rush of confidence he had felt with it before, and along with it a touch of irritation. "What if we practiced with them now?" he asked. "Just in case we do need to use them."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed, and for a moment Harry wondered if he had done something wrong, but then the Founder nodded. "That would be wise," he said.

Harry eyed him. As ever, Slytherin's face gave nothing away, but Harry had spent a lot of time with the man over the past couple of months, and he wasn't completely oblivious. Slytherin's expression was a little too carefully controlled, and there was unmistakeable tension in the set of shoulders. No doubt at least part of that was due to the potential threat to their students, but Harry couldn't help feeling that Slytherin was keeping something from them.

It was an unsettling feeling. The Founders had kept things from them before, but only things that didn't concern them, like their history with the Order. They had always been remarkably open about anything that involved the trio, which had made a very welcome change from the secrecy of the adults back home. Slytherin suddenly being so evasive felt uncomfortably like a betrayal.

As if he had read Harry's mind, Slytherin's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Just promise me that you will be careful," he said softly. "Using a new wand for the first time, especially if you have only ever used the same one before, can produce some unusual effects."

To Harry's surprise, Ron nodded. "The first time I tried to levitate Scabbers using my new wand I nearly smashed him against the ceiling. Not that that would have been a bad thing, thinking about it, but my spells were much stronger than I thought they'd be."

"Precisely," said Slytherin. "They are not the same as your current wands, and overconfidence on your parts could have fatal results."

Harry thought about the strange confidence that filled him whenever he touched his new wand, and swallowed. "We'll be careful," he promised. Next to him, a more subdued Hermione nodded agreement. Slytherin gave the two of them a small smile.

"Good. As I said, if you are in trouble then do whatever it takes to survive, but do not rush into things without thinking."

Harry spotted an opportunity to lighten the mood. "But we're Gryffindors, sir," he protested. "You can't expect us to break all our house rules."

"Yeah," Ron jumped in. "How are we supposed to win if we can't jump on our opponents' backs and stick our wands up their noses?"

Harry nodded very seriously. "It's a perfectly good tactic, and you're the one always telling us to use the element of surprise."

Slytherin mock-scowled, and clipped both of them very lightly round the back of the head. "You two are going to turn me grey," he told them. "And I thought Godric was bad when he was younger."

Harry shook his head. "I can't imagine any of you as our age."

Slytherin's lips quirked up. "We weren't born old." His eyes gleamed with sudden amusement. "You wouldn't believe half the stories I could tell you."

Harry looked at him. "You know what we're going to say."

Slytherin smirked and continued up the corridor. "Think of it as an incentive to be careful later," he called back over his shoulder. Harry and Ron exchanged delighted grins and followed, Hermione quietly bringing up the rear.

One inside the Armoury Slytherin turned to them.

"I assume you all have your new wands with you?"

There were three nods, and Harry pulled out his blackthorn wand. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood; after only ever having used one wand in his life he couldn't help but be fascinated by the differences. The blackthorn wand's design was more simplistic than his original one, but still possessed the elegance common to every Ollivander wand. Even more interesting though was the way his magic responded. His holly wand felt like coming home, like a friend that had never let him down and that Harry knew he could rely on. This wand was different. It made everything seem sharper and brighter, and made him want to try new things and face new challenges because he knew he could overcome them as surely as he knew he could breathe...

"Harry?"

Harry blinked and looked up. Hermione was studying her own wand, but both Ron and Slytherin were focused on him. Harry shook his head. "What?"

Ron frowned. "Nothing, I guess. You just looked really funny for a second there, mate." He shook his head. "I dunno. I was probably imagining it."

Harry shrugged, then flushed when Slytherin shot him a sharp look. "I warned you that it might take some time to get used to these wands."

"I know," Harry said. "So we'd better get started, right, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Harry's right." She looked Slytherin straight in the eye. "We can't ignore something that might save our lives."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed, and Harry got the uncomfortable feeling that he was missing something. He glanced at Ron who looked equally mystified, but before he could say anything Slytherin shook his head.

"Indeed." He waved his hand and a row of training dummies sprang forwards. "We shall start with some basic offensive spells. Perform them as you usually would, and see if the results differ."

Harry nodded and focused on the dummy straight ahead of him. "Stupefy!"

He had been expecting the spell to be more powerful than usual. This wand was supposed to be good for battling after all. It was with more than a little dismay then that he watched the dummy merely rock a little as his spell hit.

"What the…" he tried again. This time he pushed more power into it, but it had barely more effect. Harry gritted his teeth.

"Expelliarmus!"

The dummy's wooden sword did go flying, but Harry felt twice as drained as he should have. For some reason his wand was refusing to cooperate.

Harry glared at it, and then at his wand. Nothing had changed. The potential was there, the promise that he could be unstoppable, but the power itself just wouldn't come. It felt like he was having to fight to cast even the simplest of spells. What was going on?

"Some wand woods can be difficult," Slytherin said, and Harry jumped. As usual he hadn't heard the Founder's approach.

"But why?" he asked. "And why would it choose me in the first place if it wasn't going to work for me?"

Slytherin gave a slight shrug. "That is something you would have to ask Helga." He hesitated. "The little I have read suggested that some wands require their owner to prove themselves worthy of them."

Harry stared at it in disgust. "Fat lot of good that is then." He stuffed it back in his pocket with a scowl. He'd stick to his holly wand unless he had any other choice. Slytherin shrugged again.

"It is a powerful wand, and may one day serve you well. For now, however, I quite agree that you would be wise to stick to your original one."

Harry nodded ruefully, but before he could say anything he started at a whisper of ice cold magic. He spun round in time to hear a sharp crack, and watch the dummy in front of Hermione topple to the floor. Minus its head, which went flying through the air and hit the far wall with a dull thud.

Harry stared at her, then at the decapitated dummy, and back again. "What the hell was that?"

Hermione had gone very pale, and Harry saw that her wand was shaking. "It...it was just something I read. I didn't realise..." She trailed off with a shiver.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed. "What books have you been reading?"

Hermione shook her head but didn't answer. Harry swallowed. "Well, at least we know your wand likes you."

Hermione didn't even seem to hear him. Harry frowned and started towards her, but somehow Slytherin was already there. He took her wand from unresisting hands and studied it briefly before sighing. "It seems Helga was right."

Hermione looked up at that. For a moment she hesitated, then her expression hardened. "Good."

She held out her hand, and Slytherin returned her wand without a word. She shook herself and turned to Harry and Ron. "I wanted to be prepared for any Dark magic they might use against us. At least now I'll recognise it."

Ron swallowed. "I'll just stick to not getting hit by anything."

"Good plan," said Slytherin quietly. He shook his head. "And how are you finding your new wand?"

Ron scowled. "I don't think duelling's the hidden talent this wand is meant to bring out, but otherwise it seems fine. About the same as my old one really."

"Lucky you," Harry muttered. He was still sore about his wand refusing to work for him. It would have been so nice to be able to surprise Voldemort and the Death Eaters back home.

"I'm sure yours will work for you eventually," Hermione said. "It's like Professor Hufflepuff said, once it's properly bonded to you it will be very powerful."

"But what does that even mean?" Harry demanded. "It's a piece of wood, how am I supposed to bond with it? Take it out for a nice meal? Go to watch a Quidditch match?"

"Enough, Harry," said Slytherin sharply, before Hermione could snap back. "That will not help matters."

Harry scowled at the floor. "I know." He sighed, and tried to force down his irritation. "Sorry, Hermione."

Hermione gave a small smile. "It's fine, Harry. We're all a bit on edge."

"I just wish they'd get on with it," said Ron. He aimed another spell, and nodded to himself when the training post went flying through the air. "I'd feel a lot better if we were actually doing something."

"You are," said Slytherin dryly. "You are practicing skills that will keep you alive." Ron looked at him, and he shrugged. "Waiting is always the hardest part."

Harry nodded. Fighting his way through the maze and out-flying the Hungarian Horntail during the Triwizard Tournament had been much easier than the waiting beforehand. "Any tips?"

Slytherin tilted his head to one side for a minute, then nodded. "I may have just the thing."

Once the remains of the dummies had been tidied away Slytherin temporarily lifted the anti-Apparation enchantments in the area and they set to work. Harry and Ron both concentrated on simply getting to exactly where they wanted every single time; while they had successfully Apparated on several occasions it still required a lot of focus, and they might not have that sort of time in the middle of a battle. Hermione, who had mastered the skill some time before the two of them, now started to practice doing so on the move, and to recover from the experience in time to react to an attack. Harry and Ron both watched with some jealousy, but they were having enough trouble with their own tasks to complain.

After an hour Harry was tired and bored, but both he and Ron could reach their destination unharmed and ready to fight multiple times in a row. Hermione had made slightly slower progress at her own exercises and was getting equally testy, so Slytherin called a brief break before moving on to duelling.

"It does get easier," he told them again, as they munched on some snacks the house-elves had brought up. "For the amount of time you have been learning you are all doing very well indeed."

Ron managed a grin at that. "I can't wait to see Fred and George's faces when we all pass our Apparation tests on the first try. They keep telling me I'll take longer than Charlie."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, but you should know better than to listen to anything those two come up with." The tips of Ron's ears turned pink, but she continued before he had a chance to say anything. "We could even see about taking the tests early. It would be useful to have our licenses during the summer."

"Definitely," Harry agreed. Even if he did have to stay with the Dursleys he could visit his friends more easily, or they could visit him if he had to stay nearby. Either way, it would make the summer a lot more bearable. He was still feeling restless though. "Anyone want to duel?"

Neither Ron nor Hermione looked particularly enthusiastic, and Slytherin frowned. "I would advise against it. You should conserve your strength for this afternoon."

Harry scowled, but he could see the sense in the statement. There was no point in wearing themselves out, or even worse accidentally injuring one another, just before they might have to fight for real. Still, just sitting around waiting was unbearable.

Slytherin eyed him for a moment, then suddenly tilted his head to one side and nodded to himself. "Excuse me, Helga has just informed me that Safdar wishes to discuss this afternoon's tactics. You are welcome to remain here, if you wish."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione who both nodded. "Yeah, I think we'd like to work on a few more things."

"Very well. Just remember that if you over-do it I will have no compunctions about leaving you behind."

Harry grimaced. He had no doubts whatsoever about that. Slytherin gave him a slight smirk before disappearing with the faintest whisper. Ron scratched his head. "I think they know us too well."

Harry pulled a face. Trust Slytherin to find the one threat they'd pay serious attention to.

"He's right, though," said Hermione. "We won't be much good if we're too exhausted to fight. We can keep going for a bit," she added at the look on Harry's face, "but then we really should find something else to do."

Harry sighed, but didn't argue. If he was being honest with himself he had to admit that he'd be glad for a rest before they really had to fight for their lives. They were all much fitter than they had been when they arrived, thanks to Gryffindor's daily torture regime that made up their exercises, but there was no point in taking chances.

With that in mind, none of the three did anything more strenuous than a bit of non-verbal magic for the next hour. Hermione was the only one who could do it consistently, but Harry hoped that it might give him an edge if he needed it. It was definitely something to work on in the future.

Most of the time though was just spent just trying to prepare themselves. They had all been in danger before, but this was the first time they had spent so long just waiting for the danger to come. Harry had some idea after the Triwizard Tournament the previous year, but it didn't make it much easier to handle, and neither Ron nor Hermione were taking the waiting well.

"I'm worried I'm going to freeze," said Hermione. She was pacing back and forth, and Harry half-expected her to wear a furrow in the floor.

"You won't," he assured her.

"But I did before. Remember in first year, with the Devil's Snare?"

Ron snorted. "Exactly, we were first years. We know what we're doing now; we've had training, and we know what to expect."

"But-"

"Hermione, you didn't freeze at the Ministry," Harry pointed out. "We were surrounded by Death Eaters, but you didn't stop then. And we're better now."

Hermione shot them both dubious looks, but didn't argue. Harry sighed. "Look, nobody knows how they're going to react. We've done everything we can, so there's no point stressing about it."

"I know," said Hermione softly. "But this isn't helping."

Harry couldn't argue with that. He felt as ready as he could be under the circumstances. He was stronger, faster, and a much better duelist, but he simply didn't know if that would be enough. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning at the length of it. Hair cuts hadn't really been a priority, and both he and Ron were looking rather shaggy.

"They're not going to recognise us when we get back," he muttered.

Both Ron and Hermione blinked at him, then at each other, and Harry realised abruptly just how true those words were. They had all grown up over the past few months, and they had all changed. Not just in ability, but in their attitudes and ways of thinking. In some ways for the better, but others... Ron managed a weak smile.

"Mum's going to throw a fit."

Harry thought about how Sirius was going to react and winced, but Hermione snorted. "How do you think my parents are going to take all this? They still can't believe I used a Time-Turner at all."

Harry shook his head and forced the thought away. "Let's worry about getting through today first."

A heavy silence fell. Despite himself Harry couldn't help thinking about the future now that he had brought it up. And Neville, Ginny and Luna… He trusted Ravenclaw as much as he trusted the rest of the Founders, but he wouldn't be able to rest easy until he knew that they were all safe.

"This is stupid," said Ron suddenly. He jumped to his feet, and looked down at Harry and Hermione. "We sit around much longer and I'll have to start destroying stuff again. We might as well go and find everyone, at least then we'd know what was going on."

Hermione smiled and followed his lead. "Good idea, Ron."

Ron grinned. "Always the tone of surprise," he teased. Hermione snorted and flicked him on the arm as they made their way down the stairs. Harry could only smile.

They found Slytherin and Hufflepuff in the Entrance Hall. Madam Anwen and Masters Kentigern and Safdar stood with them, all looking very grim, and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were still nowhere to be seen. Harry paused, unsure whether or not they should interrupt, but Hufflepuff caught his eye and waved them over.

"Good afternoon," she said, as they approached. She looked about to continue, when Safdar planted himself in front of her.

"Are you ready for this?" he demanded.

"Safdar," Hufflepuff hissed, but she fell silent when Slytherin touched her arm. Safdar completely ignored the interruption. He folded his arms and glared at the trio.

"Are you ready to face wizards who will quite happily torture you and kill you?" Anwen and Kentigern exchanged an expressive look behind his back, and Safdar's eyes narrowed. "This is not a game, and if you do not realise that now then you might as well go back to your lessons because I will not risk the lives of people who actually know what they are doing to save you from your own foolishness."

Harry felt a hot rush of anger at his words. This man knew nothing about him, about any of them. How dare he try to dictate what they were capable of? He on the verge of snapping something to that extent, when he caught Slytherin watching them very closely, and something in his teacher's expression made Harry check himself. Ron looked like he was about to explode, but Harry laid a restraining hand on his arm and met Safdar's gaze without flinching.

"We may be young, but we understand the risks," he said steadily. "We know what these people are capable of, we know what we are capable of, and we are not going to go out of our way to put ourselves or anyone else in danger."

Hermione caught on, and nodded. "We know how dangerous they are." Her voice was surprisingly steady for someone who had been arguing against the idea that very morning. "We're not going to do anything stupid."

"But we're also not going to stand by and do nothing," said Ron flatly. "We can't do that."

For a long minute, there was utter silence. Harry could hear Anwen and Kentigern whispering, but he kept his eyes firmly on Safdar's. He didn't particularly care if the man liked him or not, but fighting beside someone you didn't trust could only be a bad idea. Safdar studied him, then Ron and Hermione in turn, before finally turning to Slytherin. "They'll do."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. Safdar glanced back and raised an eyebrow. "The second you disobey any one of us I'll have you stunned and hidden in the dungeons before you've had time to raise your wand."

"He's not exaggerating," said Slytherin dryly. "I've seen him do it."

Safdar just snorted and folded his arms. "No children are dying today."

Harry swallowed, but he actually felt better. Safdar might be harsh and uncompromising, but if he was as good as the Founders said he was then Harry was very glad he was going to be with them. Safdar studied him a moment longer before turning to Slytherin and Hufflepuff. "I'm going to make sure Edmund hasn't forgotten everything you taught him." He stalked off without another word. Anwen shook her head.

"I for one am just glad he's on our side." She glanced at Hufflepuff. "I'm afraid Kentigern and I would be more of a hindrance than these three in the battle." The words were matter of fact, and Hufflepuff smiled at her.

"We all have our talents. If you could watch over the students while we are gone we would be very grateful."

"Of course," said Kentigern, in his whispery voice. "Will Helena be remaining behind with us?"

Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchanged a grimace. "Not if she has her way," said Slytherin. "Rowena argued, but eventually agreed that it was to be her choice." Anwen and Kentigern shared a similar look, then excused themselves to ensure everything was ready for the students' arrival. Harry relaxed a little more once they had gone; he liked the two teachers were enough, but he was more comfortable with the Founders.

Only a little though. No one was relaxing under the circumstances.

"So what's going on?" Ron demanded the second the others were out of sight. "Are they here? When are we going to leave? And where are Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?"

"Ron," Hufflepuff interrupted gently. "Please calm down."

Ron's ears blazed red. "I am calm."

Hufflepuff patted his arm reassuringly. "Of course." She sighed and addressed all of them. "Rowena gave the first signal."

Hermione's face drained of colour. "Th-they're here? They're actually doing this?"

"It would appear so," said Slytherin. His face gave nothing away but Harry could feel the faint crackle of magic in the air. Ron looked like he was about to be sick.

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

Harry forced himself to keep breathing evenly, but his hands were shaking. Preparing for a possible attack was one thing, but knowing for certain that they would soon be fighting for their lives was something else. He wrenched his mind from that thought.

"Is she here?"

Slytherin shook his head. "She has gone to warn Godric."

"Did she say how many of them there were?"

Something dark and deadly flickered in Slytherin's grey eyes. "She waited until no more seemed to be coming. She counted no less than four dozen hidden between here and Hogsmeade."

Harry's breath caught. Four dozen. Forty eight people who wanted to kill them.

It was a hell of a lot worse than the Department of Mysteries.

"Damn," Ron breathed.

Slytherin nodded curtly. "I repeat, we will not think any less of you should you choose to remain here."

That snapped Harry out of his daze. "We are not staying behind." Slytherin frowned, but Harry glared right back. "You said before that you could use our help, and now we know it. I don't care how good you and Gryffindor and everyone else is, we're going to help."

"He's right," said Ron. His voice shook, but he didn't flinch under the Founders' stares. "We knew it would be dangerous before. This - it's scary, but it doesn't change anything."

Hermione didn't say anything, but she stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with them.

Slytherin held Harry's gaze, but just as Harry was about to crack his face twitched into a rueful smile. "Very well." He glanced at Hufflepuff who shook her head.

"I can't say I expected anything else."

Harry let out a long breath. As he did all his apprehension came flooding back. He knew he was good, Slytherin and Gryffindor didn't lie about things like that, but this was something he had no experience with. When facing Death Eaters in the past there had been nowhere near that many of them, and they had only ever been trying to capture him, not kill him.

This was going to be different. Worse.

But this time he wouldn't be alone.

Harry took a deep breath and looked Slytherin in the eye.

"What do we do now?"

"We will leave once Rowena returns," said Slytherin quietly. His fingers were tracing the symbols carved on his staff almost absently, but his other hand held Hufflepuff's.

Hermione let out a long breath. "Who else is coming?"

"Safdar, of course," Hufflepuff replied. "Edmund, and possibly Helena."

Ron waited a moment, then shot her an incredulous look. "Is that it?"

"You really need to see Godric and Safdar fight in earnest," Slytherin muttered. "Others are with Godric in Hogsmeade."

"Other students?" Hermione asked warily.

Slytherin inclined his head. "Only the ones Godric deems capable enough, and anyone from Hogsmeade who volunteers." He sighed. "We have sent other messages requesting assistance, but it is unlikely that they will arrive in time."

Harry swallowed. He knew how good Gryffindor and the others were, but they were still going to be outnumbered by a lot. It was going to be chaos. Slytherin glanced at him.

"We have faced worse odds and triumphed," he said.

Harry nodded shortly. He had no doubt that the Founders would do everything they could, but that didn't change the fact that this was going to be a battle involving a lot of people. Anything could happen. Slytherin's eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything Hufflepuff drew in a sharp breath.

"Look there."

Harry moved to stand next to her. "What?"

Hufflepuff merely pointed to the sky, and Harry looked up in time to see a hovering speck suddenly fold its wings and plummet towards the ground. "Is that-"

"Yes," said Hufflepuff. She smiled, but didn't take her eyes from the bird. "I would envy her if I was less wary of heights."

Harry felt his heart quicken as he watched the eagle speed towards the ground. He had performed similar moves on a broom of course, and his Firebolt was certainly faster, but there was something about being able to fly unsupported that filled him with longing. Ron shook his head slowly.

"We have got to pester Sirius when we get home," he muttered.

Harry nodded silently. The bird still hadn't slowed, and he was beginning to feel a prickle of alarm. Had something gone wrong? But then, at the last possible second, the eagle flared its enormous wings and came to an abrupt halt. It glided closer to the ground, and then its form rippled and stretched and Ravenclaw stepped lightly to the grass.

"Woah," Ron breathed.

Slytherin smirked. "And you say Godric shows off."

"He does," said Ravenclaw serenely. She wore a simple grey dress in place of her usual robes, but still looked as elegant as ever. "I merely follow the natural instincts." She stretched her shoulders out carefully and winced. "I think I may have overdone it."

Hufflepuff frowned and moved to her friend's side. "I am not surprised; you've been out there for hours," she said. "Where does it hurt?"

"Back and shoulders, but we do not have time for-"

"We agreed that Godric would wait a while before setting out," said Hufflepuff firmly. "In any case, you cannot expect to fight like this."

Slytherin nodded. "Come inside. You can have some food and Helga can help while you tell us what Godric said."

Ravenclaw hesitated, but bowed to the two of them with good grace. "Very well." She caught sight of the trio and shot a quick glance at Hufflepuff, who nodded.

"They understand."

Ravenclaw sighed, but to Harry's relief she didn't try to argue. "Helena?" she asked, as they made their way towards the Great Hall.

Hufflepuff and Slytherin exchanged a look before Hufflepuff replied. "She has yet to give us her final decision, but we doubt she will change her mind."

The pain on Ravenclaw's face made Harry's heart clench. It was one thing for the teachers to allow their students to fight, albeit reluctantly, but it had to be so much harder for a parent to allow a child to do so. He could suddenly see why Mrs Weasley was so keen to keep her children out of the war back home. Hufflepuff's own expression was filled with compassion as she led her friend to a seat and pushed some food in front of her.

"Eat. You need your strength."

Slytherin sat across from them, and Harry, Ron and Hermione quietly found places a few spaces a way. Ravenclaw glanced around and sighed. "Tenby."

The house-elf appeared with a soft crack and shot her an enquiring look. "How can Tenby help Mistress?"

"Would you please ask Helena, Edmund and Master Safdar to attend us? We have matters to discuss."

Tenby bowed and disappeared without another word. Ravenclaw glanced at Slytherin. "I would rather not go over it more than once." She winced as she raised her fork, then gave Helga a smile as her healing magic eased the discomfort. "Thank you."

"It is never a problem," Helga assured her. She frowned slightly as she moved her hands. "You really did do too much."

Ravenclaw gave a slight shrug. "There was no other way. It will be manageable."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow and pushed a couple of vials across the table. "Maybe, but keep those with you. Just in case."

Ravenclaw pocketed them with a thankful nod, but Hufflepuff frowned at Slytherin. "I thought you had stopped taking those."

"They are only for emergencies," said Slytherin quickly. Hufflepuff's eyes narrowed and Harry had to bite his lip to hide a grin. Why he had ever thought Hufflepuff was the least formidable of them was beyond him.

Fortunately for Slytherin, Edmund and Helena chose that moment to make an appearance. Ron stared as they approached, and Harry had to admit that the two of them looked ready for battle. Edmund wore a mail shirt over his robes and a long sword hung by his side, while Helena, like her mother, had replaced her heavy robes with a more practical outfit. Her beautiful face was set in a fierce scowl, and Harry suddenly felt very glad that she was on their side. Ravenclaw rose to her feet at their entrance, and Helena met her mother's gaze without flinching.

"I will be coming with you."

"Helena," Ravenclaw began, but Helena cut her off.

"I couldn't do anything the last time they came. I will not stand by again."

Edmund stepped up to rest a hand on her shoulder. "I will make sure no harm comes to her, Professor. I give you my word."

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Slytherin pinch the bridge of his nose, just as Helena's glare switched to Edmund. "I do not need your protection," she hissed, and he recoiled. Her gaze landed on Harry and the others and she jabbed a finger in their direction. "You are letting them fight, and they cannot be that much older than me."

"They are not," said Ravenclaw softly. "But you are my daughter."

For a few seconds there was silence. Several expressions played across Helena's face, before she stepped forwards. "And I want to help. How many times have I watched you all go to fight and not known if I would ever see you again?" She took her mother's hands. "You did not raise me to stand by and watch. None of you did. You taught me to fight for the things I believe in and the people I love. So let me. Please."

Ravenclaw held her gaze for a long moment, then she pulled her daughter into a fierce hug. Harry couldn't hear what she said, but he did see Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchange looks, and smiled. Helena would be as safe as it was possible to be in a battle. He turned away, but paused as he caught sight of Edmund. The former Slytherin was watching the two women with such an ugly look that Harry almost flinched himself, but when he looked again the expression as gone, and only concern showed in Edmund's face.

Harry swallowed. He knew the Founders trusted Edmund, even Slytherin, but Harry wasn't going to forget that moment any time soon. This wasn't the time to say anything, everyone had enough on their plates, but he was going to keep an eye out.

For now though, Harry turned his attention to the coming battle. He would protect his home, and his friends. Everything else could wait.

Chapter 18: This is War, Part Two

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

There was no more talking. Everybody understood the situation. Harry forced himself to eat, though what it was or what it tasted of he had no idea. Ron too chewed mechanically, but Hermione hadn't managed more than a couple of mouthfuls of her stew. Helena was in a similar state, but Edmund and Safdar, as well as the three Founders, didn't seem to have any problems. The atmosphere was suffocating, and Harry was relieved when Slytherin looked round the table.

"We will be leaving shortly," he said softly. "I suggest you prepare as you see fit."

Helena nodded once and rose to her feet. She squeezed her mother's hand and crossed the room to stare out the large window, ignoring Edmund's wistful look. Safdar rolled his eyes, and grabbed Edmund's arm.

"You're coming with me, lad," he growled. "I think it's time we had a little talk."

Edmund swallowed and glanced at Slytherin, but his former Head of House just sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. Edmund sighed, and followed the Duelling Master reluctantly from the room. Slytherin shook his head.

"I suppose it's worth a try," he murmured. He glanced at the trio. "Are you ready?"

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug. "As we can be, I think."

"We will not allow anything to happen to you," said Hufflepuff firmly. Ravenclaw nodded firmly, but Slytherin just sighed and pushed himself upright.

"We should be on our way," he said. "Harry, Ron?"

Harry glanced at Ron, and the two of them moved to take an arm each. Hufflepuff let out a shaky breath and managed a smile at Hermione and Helena. "Come with me, my dears."

Ravenclaw intercepted Helena and pulled her into hug. "Be careful," she said softly. She pulled back enough to glance at her friends, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "All of you."

"We will be all right," said Helena. "I will see you soon, Mother."

She stepped back, and took Hufflepuff's arm. Harry saw a long look pass between the two Founders, then he felt Slytherin gather himself and tightened his grip a split-second before the world twisted in on itself and disappeared. They reappeared behind a rocky outcropping at the top of the valley that Harry had walked along half a dozen times in the future, and Slytherin sighed when both Harry and Ron nearly fell over upon landing.

"I think that will have to be our next thing to work on."

"Fine by us," Ron muttered. He twisted round and frowned. "So where are they?"

"Scattered below us," Slytherin replied. His silver eyes were scanning their surroundings, and he glanced up as Hufflepuff appeared. "Everyone quiet for a moment while I keep them from noticing us."

His wand started tracing flashing silver patterns in the air. Harry tried to follow, but the symbols faded too quickly for him to keep track. After a moment Slytherin nodded and relaxed. "They will have to be paying more attention than they are to spot us now," he murmured. "Still, keep your voices down, and do not act until Godric gives the signal."

Harry squinted down the valley. "I couldn't if I wanted to," he muttered. "I still can't see anyone."

"Of course not," Helena murmured, and Harry jumped. She'd managed to come up beside him without him noticing, and was frowning down the hill. "They are not completely stupid." She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "They have likely spent months preparing for this, as well as years of study. They will have learned how to conceal themselves."

"She is correct," said Hufflepuff softly. "They are there. We can feel them."

Harry swallowed. Both Founders were pale and grim, a stark reminder of just what was about to happen. He glanced at Helena, and for the first time saw no trace of condescension in her eyes. She looked as terrified as he felt, and as Ron and Hermione looked, and oddly enough the sight settled Harry's stomach. It wasn't the first time he had fought for his life. The stakes were just a bit higher this time.

"All right then," he said quietly. "Then all we have to do is make sure they can't get to the school."

Slytherin shot him an approving look. "Indeed."

Hermione let out a soft noise, and when Harry looked he saw she was gripping her wand hard enough that her knuckles were white. He opened his mouth, but to his surprise Ron got there first. "We can do that," he said firmly. "We've been training, and we're not alone this time. We can make it through this." He hesitated a moment, then reached out to squeeze her hand. "We'll make it," he repeated. "We've got too much to do to die now."

Harry snorted, and Hermione shook her head. "That is a terrible argument."

Ron gave an unrepentant shrug. "True though."

The look Hermione shot him was equal parts fond and exasperated, but she had relaxed her death grip on her wand and Harry saw Slytherin and Hufflepuff exchange approving looks out the corner of his eye.

"What do you have to do?"

Harry froze. He had completely forgotten that it wasn't just the five of them. Judging by the sudden panic in Ron's eyes so had he. Helena raised a sharp eyebrow, and he swallowed. "Well, er..."

"They will shortly be returning to their own homes," said Slytherin smoothly. "They will be using the experience they have gained during their time with us to help instruct others who live there."

Harry threw him a grateful look. At least one of them had planned ahead. It wasn't even a lie really. Helena clearly knew Slytherin well though, for her eyes had narrowed.

"I see."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow and she subsided, but Harry could feel her eyes on him. Any other time and the attention might have made him uncomfortable, but compared to the dozens of Dark wizards who wanted them dead, a pretty girl was a lot less intimidating than normal.

Conversation died away after that. Both Slytherin and Hufflepuff were concentrating on the location of their enemies, and Harry himself felt too queasy to talk. Ron and Hermione seemed to be the same, and even Helena was silent. The minutes dragged on, and every one felt like an hour to Harry. Every sense and instinct felt stretched to its limit, leaving him tense and jittery, and the urge to provoke a fight just to get it over with was nearly overwhelming.

So when a soft crack sounded next to him, only Slytherin's lightning fast grab for his wrist kept Harry from shooting off a Stunning Spell.

"What-"

"It is all right," said Slytherin softly.

Harry looked and blushed. "Oh. Sorry."

The house-elf inclined her head. "No harm done, young master."

"Nice reflexes," Ron murmured as he slumped back against the rock and put his own wand away.

"Indeed," said Slytherin dryly. He released Harry's wand arm and nodded to the elf. "What news?"

The elf bowed. "Mistress Anwen says that the last of the young ones have arrived."

"So Godric will be setting off at any moment," said Hufflepuff. She smiled at the house-elf. "Thank you, Derry."

Derry bowed and again and disappeared without a word. Hufflepuff drew in a deep breath and looked at Slytherin. "And so it begins."

Slytherin just nodded. His silver eyes were fixed on the path leading from Hogsmeade, and his expression was grimmer than Harry had ever seen it. Hufflepuff didn't look much better.

"How long will it take Professor Gryffindor to get here from Hogsmeade?" Ron asked. He looked like he was about to be sick, but Harry knew the stubborn set of his jaw. None of them were going anywhere.

"No more than ten minutes," said Helena softly. "Normally he goes slowly for the younger students, but not this time." Her grip tightened on her wand and she looked at Hufflepuff. "William, Castor and Pollux will be with him."

"I expect so," Helga murmured. "They are very nearly as stubborn as you are."

"Quiet," Slytherin hissed. Every muscle in his body had suddenly tensed. Harry followed his gaze and his stomach clenched.

A group of figures had come into sight around a bend in the path, and even with the distance and dull light there was no mistaking Gryffindor's fiery red hair. A tall, dark haired boy walked on either side of him, and behind them trailed a ragged line of hooded figures.

"Nice Charms work," Helena murmured. Her light tone did nothing to hide the way her face had lost all traces of colour.

Harry could only stare down at the group. Some of them would be helping, some would be illusions mean to fool their attackers. Add to that the six of them, Ravenclaw, Safdar and Edmund, and Gryffindor himself, against four dozen Dark wizards. Seeing it all laid out made a terrifying picture.

"This is happening," Hermione whispered. "It's really happening."

For a moment Harry thought she was going to panic, but then something seemed to click in her mind and her expression hardened. "If there really were students down there, they would have been slaughtered."

Harry glanced at Ron and saw his understanding mirrored in his friend's eyes. There was no need to worry about Hermione now. He actually felt a brief surge of pity for their enemies before squashing it. They deserved everything that was coming to them. Slytherin glanced at Hermione and nodded, but didn't say anything. Helena blinked, then she gave her own flinty smile.

"But not today."

Hermione' eyes flashed and Ron straightened his shoulders and Harry felt his own surge of cold anger. Voldemort and the Death Eaters or the Order, it made no difference. They all had to be stopped.

All Harry's nerves had fled. The time had come, and the only thing left to do was act. Every muscle tensed, and he glanced at Slytherin.

"You'll take us closer when it starts, right?"

Slytherin nodded. "Remember, stay together and watch out for hidden weapons. If you feel overwhelmed fall back."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was ready. He took Slytherin's arm without prompting, and saw Ron do the same on his other side. "We know."

Slytherin glanced at him, but at that moment there was a flash of light from below them and all hell broke loose.

The next thing Harry knew he was standing about fifty metres in front of his previous position. His stomach lurched, but the nausea was lost in the adrenaline surging through his body. He itched to throw himself into the fight but common sense reasserted itself and he took a moment to work out what the hell was going on.

A dozen black-cloaked figures were spread out in front of him, with more on the valley opposite them. A storm of curses rained down on Gryffindor and the students, but all were blocked by a brilliant dome green light which had spread out to encompass the group. Harry could just about make out figures scrambling together inside it and relief coursed through him. So far they were all safe.

It had taken Harry only a second to assess the situation, but in that time Slytherin had already disappeared. Harry blinked and two of the Order wizards were sent blasting back through the air. Slytherin shot them a vicious smirk and disappeared, only to reappear at the other end of the line. His actions drew every eye to him, and Harry seized the chance.

"Stupefy!"

The spell hit one of the black robed figures square the back and they crumpled to the ground. Harry felt a brief surge of elation, then the wizards on either side of them spun round, wands blazing, and Harry was too busy to take any pride in the achievement.

"Protego! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!"

It was nothing like sparring during their training sessions. There the worst that could happen was a few bruises and some embarrassment. Here, a single misstep could mean death. There was no safety net, and every single movement had to be perfect.

Harry had never felt more alive. Adrenaline was flooding his body, sharpening every sense and instinct, but his mind was crystal clear. Sparring with Ron and Hermione, and even with Gryffindor and Slytherin, had been nothing like this. He ducked an incoming curse, blocked another one and twisted to launch one of his own at the wizard trying to sneak up on Ron. The man was sent flying back, and Ron flashed him a quick grin.

"Thanks, Harry!"

Harry grinned back. "Keep your eyes open," he called. He fired another curse and he started to make his way over to Hermione's position. His friend was doing as well as he had expected, her knowledge of rare spells serving her as well in practice as it did during their training, but she was currently fending off three opponents at once and that just wasn't right.

Hermione caught his eye, and flicked her wand in a pattern Harry recognised from one of their previous spars. Then his brain caught up with him and he squeezed his eyes shut.

The wizards weren't so lucky. There was a crackle and pop and then a series of yelps that faded into silence as Harry took advantage of the distraction to stun them all. He ducked a stray curse and spun so that he was back to back with Hermione.

"So I'm guessing you don't want me to tell Fred and George that you adapted their firework spells."

"Don't you dare," Hermione gasped. "And what are you smiling about? We're in the middle of a battle!"

Harry shrugged and flung up another shield. "But at least we're doing something."

Any reply Hermione might have made was cut off when Slytherin suddenly appeared next to them. He was breathing heavily, and the sleeve of his robe was torn, but the look he fixed them with was as sharp as ever. "You are both all right?"

"We're fine," Harry insisted.

"Good. Keep it that way."

With that he promptly Disapparated again. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw him reappear next to Helena just as two wizards turned their attention on her, but then his shield shattered under a particularly powerful curse and he wrenched his mind back to his own fight. This was no time to be standing around gaping. He staggered back a couple of steps under the onslaught, but then Hermione caught the danger and Ron appeared at his other side, and together they were able to beat the wizard back. Harry finally sent him flying and spun around in search of the next one.

When Harry had imagined being in a proper battle, he'd never imagined it being quite this chaotic. Spells of every colour danced around them, setting the air crackling with magic, and it seemed like there were hundreds of people rather than a few dozen. Through a gap in the crowd he saw the two boys who had been with Gryffindor were fighting back to back, and Helena and another boy, this one blond, were covering their flanks. Hufflepuff remained close to him, Ron and Hermione, and there was no trace of the gentle witch they had come to know in her ruthlessly efficient movements. Slytherin was impossible to keep track of, but Gryffindor was another matter. Their head of house moved through the enemy like a wildfire in a grassland and none could stand before him. Safdar matched him step for step and spell for spell, and the two of them took Harry's breath away.

Above it all rang the screams of the injured and dying. The stench of sweat and blood filled the air, and Harry felt his earlier elation fading in favour of determination. He wasn't just fighting to save his own life this time.

"Harry!"

Harry caught the flash of silver out the corner of his eye and ducked just in time. The knife went shooting past his shoulder far faster than anyone should have been able to throw it and Harry launched himself at the witch who had hexed it at him.

"Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"

The witch batted his spells aside with contemptuous ease, and then Harry was lost in the heat of battle. His new opponent was more skilled than others he has faced, and had the frustrating habit of interspersing her spells with lethally fast knives. Gryffindor's lessons, and years of Seeker training, allowed Harry to spot and evade them, but the effort was telling. His breathing burned harsh and ragged in his throat, but the manic glee in the woman's eyes boosted his resolve and he launched into the fastest series of spells he could manage.

The tactic had often worked against Ron and Hermione, and had taken even Safdar by surprise, and this witch was no exception. She fell back under the sudden assault, and Harry pressed his advantage. This woman had come to kill children. He was not going to lose. Anger lent him strength, and the deafening sounds of battle faded as the world fell away to the two of them.

A small detached part of Harry's mind noted that he couldn't keep up the pace forever, but the rest of him didn't care. He could keep it up long enough to win, and that was all that mattered. He continued to press forward, and the witch fell back before him. Her teeth bared in a snarl, and vicious satisfaction surged in Harry's chest. He lunged forwards, and the magic humming around and within him was strong enough that he didn't need incantations. He took everything he had, all the rage and hatred, and launched it at his opponent.

Whose lips twisted into a feral grin.

Harry threw up a non-verbal shield a split-second before an explosion blew him off his feet.

The rush of air flung him through the air, and Harry hit the ground hard. He felt something give at the impact and then couldn't suppress a cry as pain erupted in his chest. His head rapped sharply against the unforgiving dirt and spots exploded before his eyes.

For a very long moment Harry could only lie there. His head was ringing and everything was a blur. Dark cloaked figures seemed to surround him, and Harry couldn't see Ron's hair, or Hermione, or the Founders. He was all alone, and his ribs were on fire and his head was spinning and his wand wasn't in his hand.

That thought forced the pain aside and Harry forced himself to his knees. The woman was stalking towards him, her pace the easy, unhurried stride of a predator who knows its prey is helpless, and Harry wrenched the instinctual surge of panic under control. He had to find his wand. He tried to stand but the movement made the world spin before his eyes and he fell back to his knees with a groan. His head was throbbing and his ribs hurt too much to take a full breath

Through the fog and the pain he heard Ron and Hermione screaming his name, but the witch was already raising her wand and Harry knew with ice cold clarity that there was nothing they could do. Neither of them were good enough to Apparate through the chaos, and by the time they fought their way to him, or got to one of the Founders, it would be too late.

The woman wasn't even hurrying. The smirk on her face and the cruelty in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying every single second of what was happening, and Harry felt a hot rush of loathing rivalling anything he'd ever felt for a Death Eater. At least they had reasons for wanting him dead. He tried again to stand, and as he did so the handle of his blackthorn wand jabbed him in the side.

There was no time to think. She would kill him as easily as she would have slaughtered helpless children, and hatred overcame his panic. With an incoherent howl Harry tore the wand from his robes and focused all his fear and fury on the witch.

The world went white.

The next thing Harry knew he was flat on his back again. Blood pounded in his ears in time with his throbbing head and ribs, and he was more exhausted than he had been in years and he had no idea what had happened. There hadn't been time for a proper incantation, and he had been panicking badly enough that he would never have been able to perform a proper spell anyway. He had just summoned every bit of fear and rage and desperate will to survive within him, and the blackthorn wand had responded.

Harry just didn't know how it had responded. He wasn't dead, so he must have got there before the witch did, and that much magic had to have done something, but he couldn't take anything for granted. She had surprised him once and nearly killed him. He had to be sure she had actually been stopped.

It took everything Harry had, but he rolled onto his knees and squinted around. The battle seemed to have moved away from them, or maybe they had done that before, but Harry abruptly found he had more important things to worry about.

The witch was lying motionless on the ground.

Harry suddenly felt very cold. He forced himself upright, heedless of the way his battered body protested, and stumbled forwards. The witch didn't move as he got closer, not even a little, even though her eyes were wide open and her face twisted in shock.

There was a hole the size of a fist through her heart.

Everything stopped. Harry forgot about the battle, forgot about his friends who were fighting for their lives, forgot about his own injuries. He stared at the hole his magic had torn in the woman's body, at the bloody remains of muscle and fat and the gleam of pale bone, and couldn't process anything beyond one undeniable fact.

He had killed someone.

He was Harry Potter. The Boy Who lived. The one who was supposed to defeat Voldemort and save the wizarding world and prove that the Dark could not triumph. He was supposed to be a hero, and he had murdered someone because he hated them.

Bile filled his mouth, but he didn't look away. It couldn't be real and it didn't feel real, but the blood and the woman's sightless staring eyes were sickeningly vivid proof. She had tried to kill him and she had died for it and it had all been him. The roaring in his ears was near deafening, and everything faded away but the body in front of him.

Until someone grabbed at his arm, and someone else's hands were on his shoulders, and they were between him and the woman he had killed and so Harry had no choice but to look up.

Ron and Hermione. His friends. His best friends, who looked so scared and concerned, and had no idea what he had done because if they had they wouldn't be looking at him like that.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

Harry could only stare back.

"Harry, answer us!"

Harry's mouth was bone dry and swallowing didn't help. It didn't matter. There was nothing he could say. He could see rising fear in Ron and Hermione's faces but all he could tell was that he had blown someone's chest apart and that wasn't going to help. He could feel himself shivering, and all he could do was shake his head.

Then Slytherin appeared next to them. He looked at Harry, and at the body on the ground, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You did what you had to," he said.

Harry gaped at him, but Slytherin shook his head. "This is not the time." A curse shot towards them, and he blocked it with a scowl. "Stay with him."

"We're not going anywhere," said Ron fiercely.

Hermione took a moment to Stun a wizard approaching from the side before she nodded. "It will be all right, Harry. Look, it's nearly over."

Harry looked around, and though it took a moment to make any sense of the chaos, and even more to care, he saw that she was right. The battle did seem to be dying down, there were fewer grey cloaks fighting, but there were enough spells flying around for Slytherin to spare Harry only a long searching look before returning his attention to the fight. He didn't move from his position between Harry and the combatants though, and the wizards who fell to his curses didn't rise again.

Just like that witch hadn't.

Harry's stomach lurched and he only realised he was swaying on his feet when Ron caught his arm.

"Harry!"

Then Hufflepuff was there, wand flicking in a pattern Harry vaguely recognised, and swearing violently enough for both Ron and Hermione to stare at her. "Broken ribs, head injury…"

Harry had almost forgotten about that. Abstractly he knew his body hurt, but processing anything other than what he had just done was impossible. Hermione, though, let out a gasp and Ron paled, and Slytherin's spells somehow became even more vicious. Hufflepuff looked him over again and shook her head. "Take him back to the castle, Salazar," she snapped. "He cannot stay here."

Slytherin nodded, but the words cut through the fog surrounding Harry's mind. "No!"

"Harry-"

"But-"

"You cannot-"

"You are in no fit state to remain in this battle."

Slytherin's sharp voice cut through the babble, so Harry focused on him. "I'm not leaving."

"Are you mad?" Ron demanded. "You're hurt!" He glanced round and shot off a quick spell, and Hermione took up the slack.

"You've got nothing to prove, Harry. You need to go back to the castle."

"No," Harry repeated. "I'm not leaving."

Hermione stared at him. "Why not? How could you possibly want to stay?"

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't. Everything hurt and everything was numb all the same time and he had just done something he had never thought himself capable of, and all he knew for sure was he couldn't leave. He couldn't just run away from what he had done. He opened his mouth, still not knowing what he could possibly say to make them understand, but Hufflepuff cut him off.

"This is not a debate," she said flatly. "Salazar, now."

Harry jerked back, but he needn't have bothered. Slytherin hadn't moved from his position at the edge of their little group, and his attention was locked on the closest combatants. More out of a vague sense of duty than anything else, Harry followed his gaze.

Ravenclaw had appeared and was fighting close to Slytherin, along with Helena and the three boys she had been fighting alongside earlier. Harry had no idea when they had got there, but at least it explained how they had been left relatively undisturbed. Now though even they were staring over at the other side of the fight.

It was with only dull surprise that Harry identified Gryffindor as the source of the distraction. He as duelling three wizards at once, each of whom wore a darker cloak than the others, and the fury on his face was enough to stop Harry cold. He had seen it before, but the sight of their cheerful, encouraging teacher looking like a stone cold killer was something Harry would never get used to.

Was that what the witch had seen in her last moments? Harry didn't want to think so, but then he had never wanted to consider himself a killer either. He turned away, unable to face that thought, and just happened to catch the expression on Slytherin's face. He was the only person not watching Gryffindor. His attention was instead focused on a small copse

"Salazar?"

Slytherin tore his eyes from whatever was going on to look at Hufflepuff. "Let him stay. It is nearly over." His gaze flickered to the trees before resting again on Harry. "There is something I must investigate. Will you be all right for a moment?"

All right was a bit of a stretch, but Ron and Hermione were there, and Hufflepuff didn't look like she was moving any time soon either, so Harry nodded. Hufflepuff's eyes narrowed, and she took a long look at Harry before nodding too. "Be careful."

Slytherin inclined his head and disappeared. Ron stared after him. "Where's he going?"

"He has his reasons," said Hufflepuff quietly.

She was still studying Harry closely. Ordinarily he might have appreciated the concern but now everything was too sharp and too painful and he didn't know where to start and so simply pushed it all to one side. He looked over to where Gryffindor and some of their allies were demolishing the last of the attackers and cleared his throat.

"We should help."

His voice was raspy, but it carried enough for both Ron and Hermione to shoot him incredulous looks. "Mate, you're not doing anything," said Ron sharply. "You can't even walk properly."

Hermione nodded. "He's right, Harry. You're hurt, and I'm sorry to say it but I don't think you'd even notice if someone tried to kill you right now."

Harry opened his mouth then closed it again. He could hardly argue with that. He could still see the witch he had killed, her eyes open despite the bloody hole in her chest, but everything else was a blur. Slowly he nodded, and as he did he happened to look down. He was still holding the blackthorn wand. Harry stared at it for a moment, then threw it to one side and was violently sick.

There was a bubble of voices, and more hands on his back and shoulders but Harry didn't care. He felt filthy, tainted, and the shame of what he had done was too much to bear.

Warmth pulsed through him, soothing the nausea and some of the ache from his ribs and head, and Harry found himself leaning involuntarily into the contact. Hufflepuff, it had to be Hufflepuff, knew what he had done and still wanted to help him. He found his shaking finally starting g to ease off too, and was eventually able to look up.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Do not be ridiculous," said Hufflepuff gently. She glanced back at the body, and when she looked at Harry again her blue eyes were dark with compassion. "I am sorry that this happened. However, I am very glad that it is not you lying there."

Harry swallowed. That fact was inescapable. If he hadn't done what he had then he would have been the one killed, and somehow he doubted his killer would have given him a second thought. It was almost enough to ease the shame and the horror. Almost. The killing wound was still burned into his mind's eye.

"She's right, Harry," Hermione whispered. "If you'd done anything else..." She trailed off, her eyes very bright in her ashen face. Ron looked nearly as sick as Harry felt.

"I...you had to," he mumbled.

Neither of them could meet his gaze, and Harry swallowed back another rush of bile. They had all known something like this was a possibility, but none of them had thought it would actually happen. They had thought there would be an alternative, or one of the Founders would step in, or a miracle would happen.

They had been children trying to fight a war.

Hufflepuff looked between the three of them and her expression turned very grim, but at that moment there was a scream and Harry whipped round in time to see one of the dark haired boys fall to the ground, blood streaming from his side. The other boy and Helena were immediately at his side, and Hufflepuff looked at Ron and Hemrione.

"Do not leave him," she said crisply. "And stay where you are."

Hermione nodded, and the next thing Harry knew she had Apparated to the boy's side. Another blink and both of them were gone. Ron quickly shifted himself between Harry and any other trouble, but there was no need. All the Dark wizards Harry could see were either fleeing or incapacitated. He wasn't sure how he had missed half the battle, and realised that Hermione and the others had had a point. He would have been a liability if he had joined in the fight again, especially since he had already gone out of control.

Harry couldn't stop himself looking back at the woman he had killed, and was surprised and relieved to find that someone had covered her with a cloak. They had probably closed her eyes too. At least he didn't have to look at what he had done to her.

He also didn't dare to look too closely at himself. He was angry with himself, and hated himself more than he had thought possible for what had happened, but there was a part of him, a badly hidden and viciously suppressed part, that thought she deserved it. She would have killed him. She had probably killed others in the past. Merlin's beard she had come to kill children.

The rest of him was revolted and horrified by that opinion, and the conflict was unbearable.

A soft crack made him jump, but when he looked up it was only Slytherin. The Founder looked more drained than he had before leaving on his investigation, but every muscle was tensed and there was an edge to his grey eyes that Harry had never seen before. Hermione looked at him and swallowed.

"Is it over?" she asked tentatively.

Slytherin nodded, but his eyes were fixed on Harry. "Safdar and Edmund are pursuing those foolish enough to flee."

Harry nodded automatically. Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "You had no choice," he said quietly.

Harry could only stare at him. "I killed her."

"She was going to kill you," Slytherin shot back. "You were injured, and isolated." Anger flickered across his face before he visibly controlled himself. "It is regrettable, but there was nothing else you could have done."

Harry said nothing. Intellectually he knew that Slytherin was right. She had been going to kill him, and in the state he had been in there had been no other way to stop her.

That didn't change the fact that he had killed someone by blasting a hole through their chest. He had been blind with anger and fear, and had hated her enough to do that to another man being. That wasn't something anyone would get over easily. He was furious with himself for losing control and furious with her for making him and he hated both of them too much to think clearly.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and Harry looked up to see nothing but compassion in Slytherin's grey eyes. "We will talk about it later," he said gently. "I know it will not be easy, but you acted as I or Godric, or anyone else fighting for their life would. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Harry."

Harry swallowed. "I hated her," he whispered.

Slytherin's grip tightened on your shoulder. "You are only human, Harry. You are allowed to hate people who try to kill you."

Harry shook his head, not denying the statement but unable to completely agree with it. It wasn't the first time he had lost his temper, but it was the first time someone had been seriously hurt. And not just hurt.

Harry scowled and turned away to rub at his eyes. Everything was still too overwhelming. Every emotion was raw and he could barely think straight. He heard Slytherin sigh and speak quietly to Ron and Hermione.

"This will not be easy. Stay with him for now. I must see to the survivors."

There were mumbles of agreement, but to Harry's relief neither of them tried to approach him. He needed to get his head straight, and being surrounded by people asking questions and looking at him like he was about to fall apart wasn't helping. He didn't even deserve it. He could feel anxious stares burning into his back, but neither of them could understand. Harry didn't want them to understand. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to feel the way he was feeling now.

Harry clenched his hands into fists. He was exhausted and everything was starting to hurt again but even the thought of staying still was suddenly intolerable. He set off back towards the castle, and managed a grand total of three steps before Ron caught up.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Where do you think?" His voice was flat, but he didn't have any emotion to spare.

"Harry, they told is to stay there," Hermione protested. "We still don't know if it's safe, and you don't even have a wand."

Harry's steps faltered. That was true, but he had no idea where his holly one had gone and he didn't think he could even look at the other one, and it was still too much energy to care. He wanted Hogwarts, with its safety and comfort and hundred little crooks and crannies where he could sit and work out what the hell had happened.

"Harry, would you please talk to us?"

Harry paused long enough to glare at her. "When I've got something to say I'll talk."

"Harry-"

"Just leave me alone, Hermione!"

Hermione flinched back as though he'd slapped her. Ron's face flushed. "Come on, Harry-"

Harry didn't want to hear it any more than he wanted to look at the hurt in Hermione's eyes. He spun back towards the castle and froze

The wizard facing him was injured. The whole left side of his cloak was stained black with blood, but his wand was rock steady and pointed straight at Harry's chest. His dark eyes glittered in his bloodless face as his lips curved into a desperate savage grin.

Harry heard Hermione gasp and Ron swear but he already knew what was going to happen. He was unarmed, and neither of his friends would move when the wizard was threatening Harry like that. They were also between Slytherin and the others and their attacker. Even if they did realise something was wrong they would never get there in time.

The man grinned and raised his wand, and Harry braced himself. He would die like his parents had, on his feet, in front of the people he loved.

At least everything would be over.

Then the man's body suddenly glowed red. For a moment he stood stock still, staring at them in dull surprise, then he slowly toppled forwards and lay still.

The wizard behind him scratched his head with his wand.

"Well, that was a disappointment."

Harry's jaw dropped. He suspected Ron and Hermione were in a similar state. The man tilted his head to one side. "Did I miss the fight?"

Numbly, Harry nodded. The wizard frowned. "I knew I should have altered those wards to let house-elves through," he muttered. "That or taught the ravens to take messages." He squinted at Harry. "I don't know you, do I?"

"We're new students," Hermione finally managed.

The man beamed at them. "Excellent! There's no place like Hogwarts, you know."

"Yeah, we know," said Ron slowly. "Who are you again?"

"Of course, manners. Should find those before Professor Ravenclaw hexes them into me again." He stuck his wand into his belt upside down and held out a hand. "I used to study at Hogwarts. Slytherin." Hazel eyes sparkled in the sunlight. "My name is Myrddin."

Chapter 19: Aftermath

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter was not having a good day. In fact, one could say that he was having a downright horrible day. So far, he had got in a fight with a few dozen evil wizards, been blown up and nearly killed, actually killed the person who had nearly killed him, blown up at his best friends when they were trying to help, and then had nearly been killed again only to be saved by..

Well. That was the part he was still getting his head around.

"M-Myrddin," Ron repeated. "You're Myrddin."

Myrddin peered at him. "Are you all right?" he asked warily. "I thought he was the one with the head injury, but you see, to be having problems with either your memory or your hearing."

"There's nothing wrong with my memory," Ron insisted. "Or my hearing. I just, well..."

He trailed off with a helpless look at Harry and Hermione. Unfortunately Harry wasn't much better off, though he could at least blame the head injury. For once Hermione looked equally speechless. Really though, it was understandable. Even waking up in the past to find themselves in the same room as the Founders of Hogwarts hadn't been as bad as this.

Myrddin looked between the three of them, his expression nonplussed. "Did you all get hit by the same curse by any chance? Flash of light, confusion, probably a headache to end all headaches...?"

"There you are."

Harry had never been as relieved to see Slytherin as he was at that moment. The Founder glanced at him quickly before focusing on Myrddin and folding his arms. "You are late."

Myrddin ran a sheepish hand through his tangle of brown hair. "I got lost on the road of life?"

"Myrddin..."

"I'm sorry, sir," said Myrddin, and Harry's jaw dropped even further at the genuine apology in his eyes. "I was working, and by the time the house-elf got through it was too late." For the first time since they'd met him his smile faded. "Is everyone all right?"

Slytherin sighed. "More or less. Castor will be spending a few hours in the infirmary, but there were no fatalities on our side."

The memory of a gaping hole in someone's chest flashed through Harry's eyes and he couldn't suppress his flinch. Myrddin's eyes narrowed, and he looked around. "Well, it doesn't look like there's much to do here. I'll go back to the castle." He pointed at the trio. "You should take a look at them. They don't seem to be feeling well."

With that he Disapparated, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione staring after him.

"That," Ron began weakly. "Was that who I think it was?"

Hermione nodded weakly. "I...I think so."

Harry could only gape. After everything that had happened that afternoon, this was just the icing on the cake. Slytherin frowned at the three of them, then his expression cleared and he rolled his eyes.

"Why does it not surprise me that you would know of him?" he said dryly.

Hermione shook her head dazedly. "Know of him... He's probably the famous wizard in the world. Even the Muggles know of him!"

"He is...unique," Slytherin allowed.

Ron blinked. "Hang on. He said he was going back to the castle, and he Apparated..."

Hermione's jaw dropped. Slytherin scowled. "He worked out how to do so during his final year of study. I did consider rewriting the relevant wards, but I decided he had earned the right." He paused. "And if I had changed them, he would simply have done it again."

Ron and Hermione laughed, and it was the slightly hysterical laughter of people who had just about reached their limit. Harry smiled slightly at the image, but nothing seemed particularly funny to him. Slytherin glanced at him, and all traces of amusement vanished from his face. "Harry, we need to see to your injuries."

Harry didn't even try to deny it. His cracked ribs made every breath a challenge and his head was pounding, and he suspected his shivering wasn't due to the rapidly cooling afternoon. The pain felt dull though, as if he was only an observer in his own body, and all he could do was shrug.

"Harry?"

Everyone was staring at him, their expressions filled with concern, and Harry managed to nod. "Yeah. I suppose so."

"Suppose so?" Hermione repeated, but she fell silent at a single glance from Slytherin.

Harry shrugged again, then regretted it as his ribs started to complain more vocally. Slytherin just sighed and took his arm in a firm grip. He looked at Ron and Hermione, whose expressions said quite plainly that they were not letting Harry out of their sight again, and held out his other arm to them, before the battle-torn valley vanished and they found themselves in the infirmary.

This time though, the strain of the journey on top of everything else was too much, and with a jolt of alarm Harry found himself toppling forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Slytherin's grip tightened painfully, and through the ringing in his ears Harry heard Ron swearing, then he was deposited gently but firmly on a soft bed.

"Ow," he said flatly.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione demanded.

Harry stared at her. "Oh yeah, Hermione. I'm just fine."

Hermione blushed, and Slytherin frowned. "Harry."

His tone was warning enough, and Harry dropped his gaze, already ashamed of himself. His friends didn't deserve his temper, especially after the last time he lost control...

No. Desperate for a distraction he glanced around the room. Thankfully none of other beds were occupied, but the far end of the infirmary had been curtained off. Harry swallowed.

"That boy. The one who was injured..."

"Castor," said Slytherin quietly. "One of Godric's students." His jaw tightened. "His wounds are extensive, but Helga is with him. I believe he will recover." He shook his head and turned back to Harry. "And you are still diverting attention from your own injuries. If I may?"

It didn't even cross Harry's mind to refuse. He trusted Slytherin with his memories and secrets, a few bumps was nothing. He nodded, and Slytherin began to wave his wand over Harry's head. Very slowly the pain began to subside, but without the physical discomfort Harry's mind was inevitably drawn back to one subject.

"Don't, mate," Ron mumbled.

Harry blinked up. "How-"

Ron snorted. "Think after all this time I don't know when you're blaming yourself?"

"Well, I should be," said Harry bitterly. "Didn't you see her?"

Ron paled slightly and fell silent, but Hermione pursed her lips. "Yes, and she would have done the same or worse to you." Harry opened his mouth, but she didn't give him a chance to interrupt. "And I'll tell you something, Harry, she certainly wouldn't have felt guilty for doing so."

"They are both quite correct," said Slytherin softly. "I have seen what they were capable of. You cannot blame yourself for wanting to survive."

Harry opened his mouth again, but closed it again without speaking. He understood what they were saying, but accepting it was another matter. The pain in his head was easing as Slytherin worked, but that only made it harder to ignore the images that were burned into his brain. He saw Ron and Hermione exchange a troubled look, but they seemed to have as much idea of what to do as he did. Slytherin stayed silent, seemingly absorbed in healing Harry's injuries, but Harry had no doubt that he was already planning a new method of attack.

Harry's hands clenched into fists. He didn't deserve all their concern, and having them all standing around staring at him wasn't helping him think. He was on the verge of saying as much, futile as it might be, but at that moment there was a commotion in the corridor and the door burst open.

"Where is he?"

Harry twisted round Slytherin and saw the other dark haired boy standing in the doorway. Gryffindor was next to him, one hand resting on his shoulder, and Harry could see Helena and the third boy hovering just behind them. Slytherin paused his treatment to turn to them. "He is with Helga," he said, with a nod towards the closed off bed. "He will be all right, Pollux."

Pollux did not look comforted by that news. His face was very pale, and his blue eyes were frantic. "I need to see him."

"That might not be the best idea just yet," said Gryffindor gently. "Let Helga work, lad."

"I need to see him!"

Gryffindor opened his mouth, but the curtain twitched back and Hufflepuff stepped out. "He may stay," she said. "But I must ask anyone who is not injured to leave."

The blond boy immediately started to protest, but Helena just nodded and dragged him from the room with only a final glance back. Pollux barely seemed to notice, instead crossing the infirmary so fast Harry half wondered if he had Apparated, and disappearing behind the curtain. Hufflepuff stepped aside to let him in, then looked at the trio. "Ron, Hermione, that includes you."

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "But Harry needs us."

Hufflepuff's expression didn't so much as flicker. "What Harry needs is time to recover," she said firmly. "And the two of you also need some time to yourselves."

Ron glanced at Gryffindor, but found no ally there. He scowled and turned to Harry. "We'll be right outside, mate."

Harry only had enough energy to nod. Ron shot another helpless look at Hermione and stalked from the room. Hermione lingered for a moment, her gaze flickering between Harry and Slytherin, then gave Harry a small smile and followed Ron. Gryffindor shut the door behind them and crossed the room to speak to Hufflepuff. Harry watched for a moment, but they were too far away to hear and it wasn't really any of his business. He slumped back onto the bed and closed his eyes. What a mess.

Warmth spread through his ribs as Slytherin continued to heal him, but to Harry's relief he didn't try to press their earlier discussion. Harry knew it would come at some point, he knew better than to think any of his friends would let it go, but everything was still too overwhelming to process.

It felt like hours, but could only have been a few minutes before Slytherin hummed softly.

"How does that feel?"

Harry took a tentative deep breath and nodded. "Much better. Thank you."

Slytherin nodded and slipped his wand back into his pocket. "You are welcome." He paused, silver eyes locking on Harry's. "This is not supposed to be easy, Harry."

Harry said nothing. Slytherin closed his eyes for a moment, then there was a heavy footstep and Gryffindor came to a stop next to them.

"Are you both well?"

"More or less," said Slytherin dryly.

Gryffindor looked at him, and the two of them held one of their silent conversations for a minute, before Slytherin pushed himself to his feet and turned to Harry.

"I must speak to the survivors."

Harry swallowed. As much as he didn't want to talk about what had happened, he really didn't want to be left on his own. His thoughts must have shown on his face, for Slytherin's expression softened and he rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Godric is staying," he said softly. "And I will not be long."

Harry managed to smile back. "Thanks."

Slytherin's grip tightened, then he glanced one final time at Gryffindor and left the room. Harry watched him go before turning back to find Gryffindor watching him thoughtfully. He looked completely different to the ruthless killer Harry had seen during the battle, and Harry had to fight back a shudder.

"How do you do it?" he whispered.

He didn't elaborate, but Gryffindor caught his meaning. "If I do not, I will die," he said simply. "And so will my friends, and my allies, and countless innocent people. I do what I must to preserve my life, and the lives of those I love." His eyes softened. "As you did today."

Harry looked down. "That doesn't make it easier."

"It shouldn't."

Harry's head shot up. Gryffindor gave a sad smile. "When taking a life becomes easy, you have lost the very thing you were fighting for. I kill when I must and I do not regret it, but it is not easy. I hope it never will be."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't meet his eyes. Gryffindor leaned forwards. "What is it, Harry?"

There was no impatience in his voice. He didn't sound like Harry was being an inconvenience. Harry took a breath and forced himself to look up. "I...I wasn't thinking about anyone else," he whispered. "I hated her, sir. I hated her, and I was so angry, and I...I just wanted it to stop."

There was a long pause. Gryffindor's expression didn't change and Harry knew he should be worried but all he felt was relief. Just being able to admit to what he had been feeling was more of a relief than he had thought possible.

He was so relieved in fact, that he didn't realise that Gryffindor's expression had softened. "She was trying to kill you," he pointed.

"And she would have killed your students, given the chance," said Harry quietly. "I thought of that and I got so angry..." He sighed and ducked his head. "I don't even know if I'm sorry for it." He should be, only a monster wouldn't feel any remorse for murder, but to his surprise Gryffindor shook his head.

"Nobody said you had to. I do not regret the lives I have taken, because I have only done so when it was necessary, but I took no pleasure in the act. It simply had to be done."

Slowly, Harry nodded. That much he thought he could understand. Slytherin's words, though, had brought something else to mind. "When he left, Professor Slytherin said he was going to talk to the survivors. Prisoners."

"We need to know what the Order is planning," said Gryffindor mildly. "It is unlikely that they were trusted with anything important, but even the smallest detail may be of some use."

Harry's mouth was bone dry, but he forced the next words out. "And...when they've told you everything?"

Gryffindor sat back in his chair and fixed him with a steady look. "What would you have us do with them?" he asked. "We have no government to put them on trial, and no prisons capable of holding them." His eyes darkened. "And from what you have told us of Azkaban, I believe many of them would prefer a quick and painless death to that fate."

Harry shivered. If the alternative was a lifetime surrounded by Dementors he would probably make the same choice. It was all too easy to forget that the resources they took for granted in their own time simply weren't available yet, and wouldn't be for centuries.

There was nothing he could say in argument, and for a minute the only sounds were the murmur of voices from behind the closed curtains. Harry's own injuries had faded to a dull throb, and now he just felt more exhausted, both physically and emotionally, than he had in a long time. That didn't stop the memory of that awful wound from making him want to throw up, but both Slytherin and Gryffindor had made good points. Harry hated what he had done, but he still couldn't think of anything he could have done instead.

The worst part was that it wasn't even the first time.

"Professor," he said quietly. "How old were you the first time you first killed someone?"

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow at the question, but otherwise didn't so much as blink. "Twelve. My father's home was attacked." He paused, eyes darkening at the memories. "I killed more than one in that battle," he said. "I still remember their faces. And being very ill afterwards." He shook himself and looked back at Harry. "Unfortunately, that is not an uncommon story in these times. I believe Salazar was even younger when he took his first life. But why do you ask?"

Harry's mouth was bone dry, and it was a moment before he could get the words out. "Do…do you remember what we told you about first year? With Professor Quirrell?"

Gryffindor frowned. "The one who was possessed by Voldemort?" His green eyes hardened. "Who tried to kill you, but was unable to do so as a result of your mother's sacrifice?"

Harry just about kept a flinch under control. Certain people in the future were very lucky that Gryffindor couldn't time travel. He made yet another note to be very careful about bringing up Umbridge. "Yeah," he said. "That's him." He paused, trying to work out how to say what he wanted to, but Gryffindor's eyes suddenly narrowed.

"Harry, what did this protection do?"

Harry froze, but all traces of anger had fled from Gryffindor's voice. Now there was only concern, and enough understanding that Harry was able to continue, "It…it burned when he touched me." The memories flashed before his eyes, and he gritted his teeth. "He was too busy with the pain to kill me. So I…" He squeezed his eyes shut, but now that he had started talking it was easier to carry on. "I grabbed him, and I didn't let go. He was screaming and I just kept holding on."

He could still hear those screams. He still dreamed about that night. Not as much as the graveyard or the Basilisk, but it had been the first time he had fought for his life. He could never forget it. Gryffindor gripped his shoulder, his green eyes steely. "That was no different to today, Harry," he said fiercely. "He was going to kill you, and you had even fewer options than you did this time."

Harry managed a jerky nod. "He died when Voldemort left his body," he mumbled. "I don't…I never asked how much I had to do with it."

Gryffindor's eyes closed for a moment. "Irresponsible," he growled. "Dumbledore," he said shortly, when Harry frowned at him. "This is why we talk to people after their first battle. No matter what happens, it changes you." He shook his head. "Quirrell made the choice to let Voldemort use him. You did what you had to do to save yourself. You did nothing to be ashamed of. You still haven't."

Harry looked at him, but there was nothing but sincerity in his face and for the first time all day Harry felt himself begin to relax. He wasn't all right, and he still didn't know what he was going to do in the future, but he could finally begin to accept the fact that he hadn't had any choice. Not all those years ago, and not against the witch. Gryffindor smiled and squeezed his shoulder once more before releasing him.

"Now, will you be attending the feast tonight?"

Harry blinked. "Feast?"

Gryffindor raised an eyebrow. "I understand that things have changed in a thousand years, but I find it very hard to believe that they no longer hold a Welcome Feast."

Harry blushed. He had completely forgotten about all the students being back. "Oh, that. Yeah they do." He thought about it and nodded. "I'll be there."

"Good," said Gryffindor with a smile. "And there is no need to worry. The Hat has assured me that it will behave."

Harry nodded, then the words caught up with him. "Wait, we're getting sorted?"

"You are new students," Gryffindor pointed out. "To do otherwise would only attract more attention."

"I forgot about that too," Harry admitted. "Is it just going to put us all back into Gryffindor?"

Gryffindor shrugged. "That is up to you, isn't it?" He made as if to get up, then paused. "Harry, there is one other thing."

Harry frowned, but Gryffindor didn't immediately reply. Instead he reached into his pocket and drew out a familiar wand.

"You found it!"

Gryffindor handed it over with a smile, and Harry felt warmth blaze in his chest as he touched the wood. The holly wand had been with him for years, and the thought of losing it was unbearable. He slipped it into his pocket, but still found himself resting one hand on it. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome," said Gryffindor. "But that isn't the only one I found."

All traces of warmth fled. Harry's chest tightened, and he had to force the words out. "I don't want it."

"Harry-"

"I don't care how good it is, I killed someone with it!" Even the thought of touching it was enough to make bile rise in his throat, and he looked away. "It's stupid anyway. It doesn't listen to me."

There was a long pause before Gryffindor replied. "Blackthorn wands must go through a trial with their owner," he said. "I believe your wand will feel very different to you now."

"I don't care," Harry repeated flatly. "I'm not using it again."

The pause was even longer this time, but eventually Gryffindor sighed. "I will keep it for now then."

Harry just nodded. He didn't quite trust himself to speak. Maybe it was stupid, the wand was supposed to be for dueling after all, but he had used it and everything had gone wrong. He ignored the little voice in his head that argued that he would be dead without it, and looked back at Gryffindor.

"Thanks."

Gryffindor nodded, and there was only sympathy in his eyes. He rose to his feet, and held out a hand to haul Harry up. "It will be all right, Harry."

Harry thought about the day, and managed a slow nod. Maybe it would. Only time would tell.


Normally Hermione would have been mortified by being banished from the infirmary, and by a Founder of Hogwarts no less, but this time she was almost grateful as she followed Ron from the room. She wanted to be there for Harry, of course, but it was clear that, despite their intentions, their presence wasn't helping matters. Harry needed time and space to come to terms with what had happened, and Hermione could give him that at least. They would be there when he needed them.

She also needed a little time to herself. The day had been...interesting. From a battle that had turned into a nightmare, to meeting one of the most famous wizards to ever live, Hermione needed a moment to process everything herself.

It was easy enough to tune out the new boy's complaints about the situation, and Helena's rather lackluster attempts to calm him. She was surprised when Ron remained quiet, but a glance found him staring wistfully back at the infirmary. He caught her eye and sighed.

"I wish there was something we could do."

Hermione sighed. "He'll need us soon," she said. "We'll just have to do what we can."

Ron scowled. "Fat lot of good that'll do us," he muttered. "How are we supposed to help with this?"

Hermione had been asking herself the same question ever since it had happened. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I suppose all we can do is make sure he knows it isn't his fault."

Ron nodded glumly, and Hermione shared his apprehension. Convincing Harry not to blame himself was harder than persuading Draco Malfoy that pure-bloods were not perfect in every way. Hopefully Slytherin and Gryffindor would have more luck.

Hermione sighed, and went to sit on the long wooden bench that lay against the wall. She expected Ron to join her, but when she looked back she found him frowning at the boy. It took the boy another second to notice, but when he did he broke off his discussion long enough to raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

Ron's ears tinged pink, but he just nodded to the boy's neck. "You all right?"

The boy raised a hand, and blinked when it came back stained with red. "Oh. I forgot about that."

"You are impossible," Helena muttered. "Wait there, I'll see if I can find someone to take care of it."

"Or I can sort it," Ron offered. "I'm pretty good at healing spells."

Hermione suppressed a grimace with an effort. She was used to being bested by Harry in Defence, and now Dueling, but seeing Ron pick up Hufflepuff's lessons on healing so quickly had been a bit of a surprise. It wasn't a reaction she was particularly proud of. The boy stared for a moment, then nodded. "If you don't mind?"

Ron shook his head as he drew his wand. "I'd rather be doing something than standing around waiting."

The boy grimaced. "Me too." He twitched as Ron set to work, but his voice when he continued was remarkably steady. "I'm William, by the way."

Ron, busy with the incantation as he was, glanced at Hermione who rose to stand next to him. "I'm Hermione," she said. "And this is Ron. We're new students."

William raised an eyebrow. "You fight well for new students."

"They've been here all summer," Helena chimed in. "And they had some tutoring at home."

William nodded very slightly. "I see."

Ron's eyes narrowed, then he repeated the spell one final time and lowered his wand. "How's that?"

Hermione caught the nerves in his voice, and leaned forward for a better look. What had been quite a nasty cut was now only a slightly raised pink scar. "It looks good, Ron."

William rolled his head around and grinned. "Feels a lot better too." He held out his hand. "Thank you, Ron."

Ron smiled back and shook it. "You're welcome." He hesitated. "I'm sorry about your friend."

William's lips thinned. "He'll be fine," he insisted. "Professor Hufflepuff is amazing."

"She is," Helena agreed. "I've seen her heal much worse." She looked at Ron and Hermione and her eyes softened a little. "How is Harry?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but at that moment the door opened and Slytherin stepped out. He didn't look at all surprised to see all four of them still waiting, and turned first to Helena and William. "Castor is out of danger," he said gently. "It looked worse than it was. Helga thinks he may even be able to attend the feast."

William leaned against the wall with an explosive sigh of relief, and Helena smiled. "Thank you, Uncle."

Slytherin nodded, and glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Harry will also be fine."

Ron looked as relieved as William, but Hermione couldn't quite bring herself to relax. That had been much too close. They had all survived this time, but next time…

Everything snapped into focus, and she looked up at Slytherin. "Professor, could I speak with you for a minute?"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow but nodded, and Hermione turned to Ron. "I won't be long."

Ron nodded, and slumped back on to the bench. "I'll be here."

Hermione followed Slytherin along the corridor until they came to a small alcove. The Founder waved his hand, and Hermione felt a layer or privacy charms settle around them like a blanket, but he didn't say anything and Hermione took the chance to gather her thoughts. There was so much she needed to say, and not all of it was going to be easy.

First things first.

"Will Harry be all right?"

They both knew she wasn't talking about his physical injuries. Slytherin sighed. "Godric is with him." He hesitated. "I believe he is starting to understand."

"Good," said Hermione quietly. She had known it wouldn't be easy. As much as he tried to deny it, Harry did have a 'saving people' thing. Taking a life was something completely anathema to him. "This is why I never wanted him to have to go this far."

Slytherin's grip tightened on his staff. "We cannot control everything. Harry is strong. He will survive."

"I don't want him to have to," Hermione hissed. She looked up, daring Slytherin to read the strength of her convictions. "I need to be better."

Slytherin went very still, and for the first time in a long time Hermione felt a rush of apprehension. Gryffindor might have been terrifying in his cold fury, but Slytherin was capable of things that Gryffindor would never consider. Doubt flickered within her, but she forced it down. This was necessary. For Harry and Ron, and for all their friends and families, she would do the things that had to be done.

"My wand accepts me," she said quietly. "And it will do whatever magic I want it to. I need to learn how to stop people like that."

Slytherin held her gaze for a long moment, before looking away. "I will teach you what I can." Relief rushed through her, but before Hermione could speak he fixed her with another sharp look. "You know that it will not be easy."

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "I do," she whispered. "But if it helps them then I can do it."

Slytherin sighed. "Very well." He studied her for a moment. "Your skill at Apparating is improving rapidly. I will continue to teach you to incorporate it into your dueling." He paused. "And I will consider some other skills which may be appropriate."

"Thank you, sir." She hesitated, but it was worth a try. "I would like to learn Legilimency, if possible."

Slytherin tilted his head to one side, then gave a slow nod. "I will have a talk with Helga regarding your progress with Occlumency, but yes, that could be useful."

Hermione let out a long breath. That was something at least. She wasn't particularly worried about his need to talk to Hufflepuff, her teacher had pleased with how her mental shields were developing. Apparently having an orderly mind was good for more than just non-verbal magic. Slytherin looked at her and shook his head.

"I regret that this is necessary," he said softly.

Hermione glanced back. "Me too, but Harry has it worse. I just want to make it a bit easier for him."

An emotion Hermione couldn't identify flickered in Slytherin's face for a moment, before disappearing so completely she wondered if she had imagined it. "Indeed. And he does appreciate your efforts." His tone turned dry. "Though he may lack the words to say so."

Hermione snorted. "He'll never change." Not that she'd ever want him to. Slytherin gave a soft snort of acknowledgement.

"Perhaps not." He glanced out the window at the dull evening sky and sighed. "I must talk to the others before the feast begins."

Hermione had forgotten about that. "Are we still going to be sorted?"

"It is tradition," Slytherin reminded her. "You at least do not think you will be fighting a dragon."

Hermione had to laugh. "Fred and George told Ron he'd have to wrestle a troll."

Slytrherin's eyes sparkled. "As I said, tradition."

Hermione smiled, and the two of them began to head back to the infirmary. It was certainly going to be an interesting evening.

And there was still the promise of even more interesting sessions to come.


Ron watched Hermione follow Slytherin down the corridor and tipped his head back against the wall.

"This is ridiculous," said Helena suddenly. "Aunt Helga isn't going to change her mind any time soon. Let's go to the Common Room."

"Why can't we go to the Great Hall, like everyone else?" William protested.

"Edmund is there," said Helena flatly. "And I have spent quite enough time with him already today."

William rolled his eyes at Ron, but followed her down the corridor without argument. Ron chuckled and sat back on the bench against the wall. At least some of the other students seemed fine. He glanced up the corridor for Hermione, but whatever she wanted to speak to Slytherin about had to be serious for there was still no sign of her.

Ron's smile faded, and he sighed. If she wasn't asking what to do about Harry Ron would eat his hat. Ron couldn't blame her; he wanted to be there for their friend as much as she did, but he was still trying to get his head around it himself. Harry had killed someone. Harry, who felt bad about even losing his temper, had killed someone by blowing half their chest open.

Ron could sort of understand it. Harry had never been one to back down from a fight, and Ron had no doubt whatsoever that the witch had been aiming to kill too. Harry hadn't had a choice.

It was just hard to think of his best mate as a killer.

Ron scowled and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He wasn't being fair. If it came down to Harry being a killer or being killed, he knew which one he wanted. Hell, he would have done the same thing himself. It had been self-defence, that was all. Just like they had trained for, like everyone had told them.

Dumbledore never killed. Not even when he stopped Grindelwald. None of the Order did. Not Moody, not Kingsley, not Sirius. Not his parents. His uncles hadn't either, during the first war. Ron's mum had always been proud of them for that.

Ron's hands clenched into fists. Maybe if his uncles had been like Harry, been able to kill to defend themselves, they would still be alive.

"Ron?"

Ron blinked and started to push himself upright only for Ravenclaw to wave him back down. "This is hardly the time to stand on ceremony," she said dryly.

Ron relaxed back and managed a smile. "Guess not."

Ravenclaw smiled back. "Have you seen Helena? I thought she might be visiting Castor."

"Professor Hufflepuff kicked us out," Ron told her, and was quite proud of himself for not sounding like he was sulking about that. "She let Pollux stay, but Helena and William went to wait in your Common Room."

"I see. Thank you, Ron."

"No problem."

He was expecting her to leave immediately, and so was surprised when she continued to peer down at him. "Er, Professor?"

"Are you all right?"

Ron blinked. "I'm fine. Couple of bruises, but that's my own fault for stepping in mud."

"I see." Her eyes flickered to the door of the infirmary, and then back at Ron. "And how is Harry?"

Ron dropped his gaze. "Professor Slytherin fixed him up. The rest..." He broke off and shrugged. "We tried to talk to him, but I don't think it did any good."

To his utmost surprise, Ravenclaw settled herself on the bench next to him. "It is not an easy thing," she said quietly.

Ron continued to stare at the floor. "He had to do it. She was going to kill him." He meant every word, but try as he might something still rang hollow. Ravenclaw looked at him.

"And yet it is still hard to think them capable of it."

Ron's head snapped up in time to see the understanding in her eyes. "You..."

She gave a sad smile. "I knew Godric as a child. Our mothers were friends, and we saw each other often as we grew up. We were very close." Her eyes darkened. "He came to me after his first true battle, and I wondered if I knew him at all."

Ron hardly dared to breathe. This was nothing he had expected. Ravenclaw glanced at him. "Do not think me naïve," she said, a little sharply. "I understand the reality of life. Ours is a dangerous life, and we do not have the luxury of coddling our enemies. Godric has always known what must be done." She paused. "I found it difficult to accept," she admitted. "And that made it harder for him, and I have always regretted it."

Ron swallowed. The last thing he wanted to do was make Harry feel worse. "What should I do?"

"What you have always done," said Ravenclaw quietly. "Be his friend. Listen when he wants to talk, and do not press him when he chooses to be silent. Distract him when he needs it, and do not let him blame himself."

Ron snorted softly. "Been trying to do that for the past five years. I'm not going to stop now." He sighed and tilted his head back to rest against the wall. "It's probably going to happen again." Ravenclaw's eyes narrowed, and he continued quickly, "Maybe not here, but when we get back…Everyone expects Harry to save them all. They want him to stop Voldemort for them again." His nails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. "As if he hasn't done enough."

Ravenclaw let out a heavy sigh. "Particularly those who know of the prophecy." She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if Seers should keep such things to themselves."

Ron sighed. "Maybe sometimes, I guess." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "It's all just such a mess."

"Life is rarely as orderly as we might like," said Ravenclaw dryly.

Ron grunted agreement, and the two of them sat in comfortable silence for a moment. It was hard to imagine that less than an hour ago they had been fighting for their lives, and Ron was just grateful for the chance to catch his breath. The thought of the battle did raise a question in his mind though. He shot a sideways glance at Ravenclaw and opened his mouth, then closed it again. She wouldn't want to be answering questions now.

As if she had read his mind though, she looked him straight in the eye and raised an eyebrow.

"Ron," she said, "you know I never refuse a question."

Ron blushed. "Oh, right." He paused, then decided he might as well. "It's just, I saw you and Professor Hufflepuff fighting earlier, and you were both amazing. So I was just wondering why you don't ever go with Gryffindor and Slytherin when they go to stop people like that?"

"Because neither of us enjoy violence," said Ravenclaw quietly. "We will fight when it is necessary, but it is rare for Godric and Salazar to require assistance." She rolled her eyes. "And they can be exasperatingly overprotective."

Ron took a moment to imagine how that conversation would go, and had to grin. Ravenclaw smirked back. "They have had a number of lessons on the subject," she agreed. "For such brilliant wizards, they can be extraordinarily stubborn." There was nothing but fondness in her face though, and Ron found his smile widening. This whole situation might be a huge mess, but he knew he'd never regret getting to see just what the Founders were like.

"In our defence, it is not though we are the only ones to bear that trait."

Ron jumped, and looked up in time to see Slytherin watching them with open amusement. Next to him, Hermione was more subdued, but she smiled when Ron shot her a questioning look. Ravenclaw just rolled her eyes.

"We do not take it to such ridiculous lengths," she said tartly.

Slytherin inclined his head. "Perhaps. I maintain that there is very little in it." His smile faded. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have business with the prisoners."

Ravenclaw sighed. "I too, have work to attend to." She smiled at Ron. "I appreciated the conversation."

Ron felt himself blush to the roots of his hair. "Me too," he mumbled.

Ravenclaw smiled and accepted Slytherin's hand up, and the two of them made their way slowly down the corridor. Hermione sat down where Ravenclaw had been sitting and looked at Ron. "What conversation?"

Ron shrugged. "She was just telling me about when Professor Gryffindor first killed." He hadn't expected it, but just knowing there was someone who understood had helped. Hermione nodded thoughtfully, and he glanced back at her. "What about you?"

She echoed his shrug. "I wanted to ask Professor Slytherin if he would teach me to fight like he does. I'm getting the hang of Apparation now, and I think it would be an interesting style."

"The Death Eaters would definitely have trouble with it," Ron agreed, but something in his gut told him that that wasn't the whole story. Hermione wasn't quite avoiding his gaze, but there was something in her body language that he hadn't seen since the big Time-Turner secret.

Ron gave himself a mental shake. If Hermione wanted him to know she would tell him, but otherwise it was none of his business. He thought about what he had just said and snorted. "They're going to have trouble with a lot of things."

Hermione grimaced. "They're not going to be the only ones."

Ron refused to think about how his parents were going to react. "They're just going to have to get used to it." He ran a hand through his hair. "Reckon it'd help if I got this cut first?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then broke into slightly hysterical giggles, and Ron relaxed back against the wall. That was a bit better. After a moment, Hermione smiled at him. "I don't think it would hurt," she agreed. "You're going to have to start tying it back soon otherwise. Harry too."

Ron tilted his head to one side. The look did work on Bill after all…

Before he could really start visualising himself with long hair though, the door opened and Ron was immediately on his feet. Harry and Gryffindor came out, and Ron took a moment to study his best friend. Harry was still very pale, but his eyes weren't looking as dead as they had been before, and he managed a small smile at the sight of them. Ron closed his eyes for a moment and moved forward to clap him on the shoulder.

"You all right?"

Harry hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Getting there." He looked at Ron and Hermione, and took a deep breath. "And, I'm sorry about before," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have taken everything out on you."

Hermione blinked, then darted forward to pull him into a hug. "Don't be ridiculous. Just don't scare us like that again."

Harry patted her somewhat awkwardly on the back. "Er, I'll do my best."

Ron just smiled. They were going to be fine.


"I can't believe we're getting sorted again."

"What did you think was going to happen, Ron?" Hermione demanded.

"That we'd just go back to Gryffindor? I dunno, but we're not first years. It'll be weird."

Hufflepuff shared an amused look with Harry, before turning to Ron. "I doubt that. Our system is rather more flexible than yours. Students join us with varying levels of experience, and simply leave when they have learned all they needed to." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Myrddin was with us for less than three years."

Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry could almost see stars in Ron's eyes. Not that he could blame them. He had been too distracted by everything else to really pay attention to the man, but now the knowledge that the most powerful wizard to ever live was in the same castle was dizzying. Hopefully they would meet again before he disappeared again. Hermione looked like she was fairly bursting with questions, but just as she opened her mouth Hufflepuff came to a stop at the door to the Entrance Hall. She smiled and waved them through.

"I must join the others." Her eyes twinkled. "Have fun."

She shut the door, and Harry looked across at the rest of the new students. There were fewer of them than he had expected, no more than twenty, and the range of ages was just as surprising. The youngest looked no more than seven, while the oldest was older than Hermione.

"Yeah," Ron murmured. "I see what she meant."

Harry nodded. It would make classes more interesting at least. He drew himself up and walked across to the group, Ron and Hermione on either side of him. A few smiled as they approached, but most looked too nervous to even look up.

Fortunately, it was less than a minute before the other door swung open and Ravenclaw stepped through.

"It is time," she said. "Follow me, please." She looked down at the youngest boy, who looked like he was about to be sick, and her somewhat severe expression softened into a warm smile. "There is nothing to be worried about. You are all Hogwarts students now, and we are very glad to have each and every one of you."

The boy gave a shaky smile, and Harry found himself relaxing as well. No matter the time period, Hogwarts would always be his home.

The three of them ended up at the back of the group, but it was worth it to hear the delighted gasps and exclamations of the newer students as they entered the Great Hall. It wasn't quite what Harry was used to, there were far fewer students and teachers for one, but the floating candles and gold cutlery and brilliant stormy sky over them were exactly as they should be.

The head table though, did look rather different. Not seeing Hagrid's enormous figure felt rather disquieting, but seeing the Founders of Hogwarts ready to welcome their new students was like something out of a dream. Around them were Safdar, Kentigern, Madam Anwen, and a couple others Harry didn't know, and right on the end was Myrddin. He caught Harry's eye and gave a cheerful wave before going back to animating wooden squirrels that scampered down from the table and wrapped themselves around the little first years' feet, to some gleeful squeals. Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow at the wizard, who grinned back unrepentantly, and led them forwards to where a wooden stool was waiting.

The sight of the Sorting Hat drove even the squirrels from Harry's mind. The piece of enchanted headwear looked different too, but a thousand years would do that to anything. More entertaining was the sheer bafflement on the faces of the newest students as they stared at what seemed to be merely a plain brown hat.

Until the rip appeared at its brim, and it bowed.

"Good evening to you all."

The new students gaped, but there were a few cheers from the seated students. Gryffindor just beamed as the Hat continued. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I am the Sorting Hat, and I will be determining which of the four houses you belong in."

"I miss the singing," Ron whispered. Ravenclaw shot them a bemused look and he snapped his mouth shut. The Hat didn't seem to notice.

"Gryffindor." It paused as the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. "The house for those who value courage and honour.

"Hufflepuff." More cheers, and Harry saw Hufflepuff smiling. "For those who are loyal and hard-working.

"Then Ravenclaw." There was less shouting, probably because Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow at her students. The Hat's smirk was practically audible. "For the quick-witted and creative." It opened its mouth, but the Slytherins forestalled it by promptly cheering as loudly as the Gryffindors. Slytherin grinned, and Gryffindor rolled his eyes.

"And Slytherin," the Hat said dryly. "The cunning and ambitious will find a good home there." It somehow seemed to turn to the new students. "I will place you where you can prosper, but no matter the house, you are students of Hogwarts, and you will all be great." It bowed once more and fell silent. The seated students applauded, and after a moment the still dazed new students followed suit. Harry leaned over to Ron.

"No wonder it started singing," he murmured.

Ron nodded fervently. "A thousand years of that. It must be desperate for something to do." He started to say something else, but Ravenclaw opened her mouth and Hermione jabbed an elbow into his ribs and he subsided with a grumble.

Harry soon found himself tuning out the actual ceremony. It was tradition and everything, but there wasn't anything really exciting about watching people put a talking hat on. As usual with the Welcome Feast, his stomach was already starting to rumble, and he could see Ron shooting longing looks at the food. With so few students though the time passed quickly, and soon Harry, Ron and Hermione were the only students waiting. Ravenclaw looked over at them and smiled.

"Hermione?"

Hermione took a deep breath, then sat down and pulled the Hat onto her head.


'So you're the ones they warned me about.'

'We are.'

'Time travel, very interesting. Even more interesting to see what I will be like.'

Hermione frowned under the Hat. 'We haven't caused a time paradox, have we? You won't deliberately choose to be different and end up changing history and leaving us as the only ones with the memories of how things used to be and thereby-'

'I can see why I was torn between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw last time.'

'Sorry.'

'Never apologise for curiosity. Now then, do you want to be sorted into Gryffindor again?'

Hermione chewed on her lip. 'I don't know. Is that where I should be?'

'Well, let us see.'

There was a long pause, then, 'Very interesting indeed. You've certainly learned to embrace your Slytherin side.'

'I have had to.'

'It wasn't an insult, child.'

'I know that.'

'In any case, you would also make an excellent Hufflepuff. Loyal, dedicated, and with a work ethic that Helga would certainly be proud of.' It hummed thoughtfully. 'And yet you have also faced Dementors and centaurs and Dark wizards without hesitation, though it scared you half to death. You do Godric proud.'

Hermione smiled. This was very different to the last time she sat under the Hat.

'Indeed. You are one of those who would thrive in any house. But your first love has always been learning, and for the curious there is always a place to call home.'

"Ravenclaw!"

Ravenclaw' smile was dazzling as she took the Hat from Hermione's head. "I am delighted," she murmured. "And not entirely surprised."

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you." She glanced back at Gryffindor, only to find him grinning as widely as Ravenclaw. He nodded, and she went to sit with her new house with a light heart.

Ravenclaw was still smiling as she beckoned Ron forward. "Ron."


'Hello.'

'Good evening, young man. You are much less nervous than you will be in the future.'

'Probably because Fred and George aren't watching.'

'Yes, I can see how the presence of your family might have made things more difficult. Now, do you wish to be placed in Gryffindor again?'

'I wouldn't complain but, well, is that the best place for me?'

'Interesting. Your friend said the same thing.'

'Yeah, well, we've all been thinking about it since we got here, I think.'

'You don't think you belong in Gryffindor?'

Ron shifted on the stool. 'Look at me. I was terrified. Every time we get into trouble I'm terrified.'

'And yet you go anyway. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the knowledge that something else is more important.'

'I swear that hasn't been written yet.'

'I saw it in Hermione's mind and liked it, so I borrowed it. I can do that.'

Ron snorted. 'Fair enough.'

'In any case, I would be quite happy to place you in Gryffindor, but let's look at the other options anyway.'

'Not Ravenclaw. I might not be completely thick, but I can't just sit and read all day.'

'There is more to learning than reading, but I agree. Maybe not Ravenclaw. Slytherin, though, is actually quite plausible.'

'At one time I'd have hexed you for that.'

'But not now?'

'No. not now.'

'You have the determination, and the cunning. However, when you faced all the dangers you have, you did it for the sake of your friends.

Ron frowned. 'I haven't always been a good friend.'

'But you admit that and make amends, even when you do not find it easy. For them you will face your greatest fears, and for them you work harder than you ever do for yourself.'

"Hufflepuff!"

Ravenclaw nodded approvingly, and when Ron glanced round he saw Hufflepuff's eyes shining with pride. Gryffindor looked equally delighted, and by the time Ron sat down with the clapping Hufflepuffs he was smiling wide enough to make his cheeks hurt.

Ravenclaw smiled and turned to the last student. "Harry?"


'Well, well, well. Very interesting.'

'You said that last time.'

'This is the first time. In the future I will be echoing myself, and the effort will still be completely wasted on you.' Harry grinned and it continued. 'I assume you also have no burning desire to be sorted straight back into Gryffindor?'

Harry shook his head. 'I like being in Gryffindor, and I fit in there, but I don't think it's the only place.'

'Indeed. You certainly have the brains for Ravenclaw, and the loyalty for Hufflepuff.'

'But I don't like learning for its own sake, and I know I don't work as hard as I could.'

'I do like a person who can see themselves clearly. So many people have no understanding whatsoever of their own flaws.'

Harry shifted slightly. 'Thanks, I think. But we both know the options.'

'We do. Is it still 'not Slytherin'?'

'You know it's not.'

There was a long pause. 'You have changed a great deal, Harry Potter. You are not the same boy I sorted into Gryffindor. I do not believe I was wrong, as I was not wrong in sorting your friends there, but you have learned what you needed to in Gryffindor.'

Harry smiled.

"Better be Slytherin!"


"So. Time travel?"

Salazar closed his eyes for a moment before turning to face his unexpected visitor. "I am not going to ask how you got in here. Or how you know that."

Myrddin just grinned at him. "If you didn't want me to get in then you should change your personal wards more than once a decade." He dropped into a chair and his smirk faded. "They don't belong here."

Salazar eyed him for a long moment, then sighed and took the seat opposite him. "They come from nearly one thousand years in the future," he said quietly. "There was an accident, and they were somehow transported here. We are trying to develop a way to send them back, but..."

"But changing one of the fundamental laws of the universe takes time," Myrddin agreed. He shook his head. "They seem to be settling in."

Salazar sighed. "They have had a couple of months to grow accustomed to the idea. I dread to think how they will manage with the other students back."

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. "They seemed fine at the feast. You should have more faith in them."

Salazar inclined his head in acknowledgement of the point. He hadn't been particularly surprised by the results of the Sorting, all three of their visitors had changed since their arrival and begun to explore new ideas and possibilities, but he had been surprised by how easily they had settled into their new houses. Ron had been chatting away with Pollux and a few of the other Hufflepuff within minutes, and he had seen Helena introduce Hermione to some of the more talented Ravenclaw.

Even Harry had been looking a little better, and Salazar once again thanked whatever god had guided William into his house. The boy was not exactly a typical Slytherin, and was a menace where Potions were involved, but his irrepressible good nature and unlikely tact would be good for Harry after everything that had happened.

Salazar sighed. He had done his best, but he really had no idea how to beat help Harry. All his life Salazar had been taught that the world was a vicious place, and one had to be ruthless to survive in it. He and Godric had learned to kill or be killed; they never had the luxury of handing defeated enemies over to the government to be secured. Killing was not easy, and not usually something he enjoyed, but it was necessary.

That wasn't the case in Harry's time. Times had changed, and all three of their visitors had grown up with a different set of values. Certainly they understood the need to defend themselves, and Hermione at least seemed to understand that sometimes unpleasant measures were necessary, but neither Harry nor Ron could do so easily.

And Harry was expected to kill Voldemort.

"You really are worried about them, aren't you?"

Salazar blinked, and was immediately annoyed with himself. He knew better than to get distracted when Myrddin was around. His former student's hazel eyes had narrowed, and now he leaned forward.

"What else is going on?"

Salazar briefly considered ordering him to leave before realising the futility of that course of action. If nothing else, Myrddin's knowledge could be invaluable to their guests. "Their country is threatened by a self-styled Dark Lord," he said shortly. "He has taken a particular interest in Harry."

Myrddin's jaw tightened. "Tell me everything."

So Salazar did. He told him of the prophecy, and Voldemort's first defeat ad rebirth. When he got to the Horcruxes though, the temperature of the room dropped so suddenly that the little fire in the grate went out. Salazar raised an eyebrow and Myrddin lit it again with a flick of one finger, but his fierce gaze never left Salazar's. Salazar bit back a sigh and explained the deductions they had come to.

When he was finally finished, Myrddin sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

"I've heard of them," he muttered. "Never thought anyone would be stupid enough to make more than one." He looked back at Salazar. "I assume you're already looking into it?"

There was no trace of mischief in his eyes now. Salazar nodded. "I know how to destroy a Horcrux. However, each method would also kill Harry."

"So we need to extract it first," said Myrddin with a nod. "I'll look into it."

Salazar smiled at him. He hadn't expected anything less. Myrddin had never been able to resist a challenge, and he despised magic that went against the natural order. "Thank you. My time is going to be somewhat limited with classes starting again."

Myrddin shuddered. "I don't envy you. I don't think I'd ever have the patience to be a teacher."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "I know. I taught you."

"I thought I was a joy to teach."

"That would be one way of putting it," said Salazar dryly.

Myrddin pulled a face at him, but his expression suddenly became serious. "You know Harry isn't going to be able to kill this Dark Lord, don't you?"

Salazar narrowed his eyes at him, and he continued more quietly, "Even if he could overcome the man's natural ability and decades of intensive study of the darkest magic in the world, that boy isn't a killer."

Salazar closed his eyes. "I know."

Today Harry had killed in self-defence, one of the most fundamental human instincts, and it had nearly broken him. To do so deliberately, even someone like Voldemort, would change him forever.

Maybe Salazar was worrying too much. Harry had been through a great deal. He was capable of far more than Salazar had expected. Maybe he would be able to cope with the trauma. That didn't change the fact Harry wasn't good enough to face a master of the Dark Arts who had been honing their skills for decades.

Certainly Harry had allies. Dumbledore at least was a match for Voldemort, but he was only one man. Ron and Hermione and all their friends would fight, but Voldemort had allies too. Maybe they would prevail against the darkness.

Salazar didn't want to think about the cost.

"You care about him," said Myrddin quietly. "About all of them, but Harry in particular."

Salazar didn't even try to deny it. Myrddin leaned forward in his chair.

"What are you going to do, Professor?"

Salazar didn't have an answer for him. Not yet.

Chapter 20: Friends, Allies and Enemies

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Harry stared up at the stone ceiling and sighed. He'd been exhausted enough to fall asleep the second his head touched the pillow, but he hadn't stayed that way for very long. Memories of the previous day had combined with scenes from the graveyard, from the Chamber, from fighting Quirrell, and only the Silencing Charms he'd set up the previous night had kept him from waking the rest of the dormitory.

After that, Harry hadn't felt much like trying again. He couldn't talk to Ron, even if he'd really wanted to, and he'd ended up mentally running through the revision sessions Ravenclaw had put on for them. It still hadn't been enough to keep his mind from drifting inexorably back to the battle.

Harry thumped his head back on the pillow. He had done what he had to, the only thing he could do. Maybe people back home would think the worst of him, but things were different here. They understood. It didn't make everything better, but it did help.

Just not with the dreams.

Harry flung back the covers and rolled out of bed. Anything, even reading in the common room, would be better than staring at the ceiling for another hour. He grabbed a warm outer robe from the chest next to his bed, and padded silently from the room.

The fire in the common room had burned down to embers, and Harry was grateful for the thick rugs covering the stone floor. He prodded the fire back into life, and lit some of the candles in the alcoves around the room before slumping down onto the nearest sofa and rubbing his eyes. It looked like he would have to get Slytherin to put up more of those Dream Catcher wards. Bloodied bodies danced in his mind, and the memory of sightless eyes and a broken chest was suffocating.

"I didn't have a choice," he muttered. He had to keep believing that.

"Everything all right?"

Harry's wand was in his hand before he even knew what was happening. He spun round and William held up his hands. "It's only me."

Harry forced himself to breathe evenly and stuck his wand back in his pocket. "Sorry," he said shortly.

William shook his head. "No, it was my fault. I should know better than to sneak up on someone after a day like yesterday." He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down on the other end of the low couch. "Good reflexes though."

Harry shrugged. He knew the other boy was just trying to be friendly, but everything still felt too raw. William tilted his head to one side. "First time you've been in a battle?"

Harry glanced at him, but there was only sympathy in his eyes. He let out a breath and shook his head. "I've been in some fights," he mumbled. "Nothing as big as that."

"Same here," said William quietly. He stared into the crackling fire. "I was actually excited when Professor Gryffindor asked if we wanted to fight. We were too young before." He shivered. "Not sure I'd be so quick to volunteer again."

Harry let himself relax back against the cushions. "We all made it," he said. "Your friend…"

"Castor," said William with a nod. "Yeah, he's fine. Professor Hufflepuff is a genius. He was even at the feast." He snorted. "Course it'd take more than nearly being decapitated to keep him from his food."

Harry smiled. "I've got a few friends like that."

William grinned back at him. "I saw you yesterday, you know. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Harry just about managed to keep his shrug casual. "Some of the people back home taught me, and Gryffindor and Slytherin have been giving us more lessons." He looked away. "We don't know how long we'll be able to stay here, so we're trying to make the most of it."

William frowned, but to Harry's relief he didn't press the matter. Instead he got up and wandered over to the magic-reinforced glass holding back the lake. "Well, we're glad to have you," he called over his shoulder. "You'll like Hogwarts. You know there might be Merpeople coming to live here? Professor Ravenclaw has been talking to them." He stared out into the black depths and shook his head. "That would be incredible."

Harry very carefully kept a straight face as he made his way over to join him. "Yeah, it would." He hesitated, but couldn't resist. "Do they have anything else in there? Giant squid or something?"

William blinked at him. "What's a squid?"

"Never mind," said Harry quickly. "Just something I saw back home once." He looked out into the water again. "I never knew they could do things like this." The one time he had been in the Slytherin Common Room he had been too busy hoping Malfoy didn't see through his disguise to pay much attention to his surroundings. Harry loved the Gryffindor Tower, but there was no denying that this was cool. William grinned.

"There's no place like Hogwarts," he said proudly. "You'll love it here."

"I already do," Harry admitted. "Everyone's been brilliant." Even Helena had relaxed since the battle. She had even smiled at Harry when she came over to talk to William at the feast the previous evening.

"Good," said William. His bright grin faded slightly, but his eyes had lost none of their wonder. "There really is no place like Hogwarts. Somewhere where we can all learn about magic in safety, without having to worry about who can see us..." He glanced back at Harry. "I'd do anything to protect this place. My younger brother will be starting here next year. He'll be safe." His cheeks tinged pink and he shook himself. "Ah, I'm probably sounding a bit stupid."

Harry shook his head. "I'd do whatever it took to keep this place safe too." That was what yesterday had been about after all. He wrenched his mind away from that topic. "So, do you think your brother will be in Slytherin too?"

"Not really," William admitted. "I'm pretty sure he's a Gryffindor through and through." He grinned. "But that's fine. Gryffindor is brilliant, and Alfred doesn't need me hovering over him all the time."

That attitude was so different to that of most siblings at Hogwarts that Harry had to smile. It was also very refreshing to see that the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin mirrored that of their respective Founders. Harry hadn't really expected anything else, but it was still nice to see. It also showed even more glaringly just how badly everything had gone wrong in the future.

"Harry?"

Harry shook himself and looked up. "Sorry, just thinking about home."

William tilted his head to one side, but after a moment of slightly awkward silence he launched into an animated discussion of what they could expect in their classes that day. Harry settled back into the chair and stared out into the water, and let himself relax.

The two of them talked for so long that some of the other students started to trickle in, and Harry found himself being introduced to the half of Slytherin that he hadn't gotten round to the previous evening. It was a good distraction; names flew in a flurry of Anglo-Saxon and Frisian and Welsh that Harry could barely keep track of. Many wizards had names most Muggles would consider odd, but a thousand years in the past things were even more bewildering.

His confusion must have shown on his face, for William clapped him on the back.

"You'll get used to it," he said cheerfully. "It's always a bit of a shock being surrounded by so many other people like us."

Harry managed a nod. A tall red haired girl, who had introduced herself as Sigrun, smiled at him. "Don't you worry," she said. "We take care of our own here." She glanced at William. "But if you don't hurry up then you'll be the ones explaining to Professor Slytherin why you're late on your very first day."

William scrambled out of his chair with a yelp. "Come on, Harry," he called over his shoulder. Harry choked down his laughter and followed. So much for the stuck up pure-bloods he was familiar with.

The two boys dressed at top speed and were indeed in time to join the other Slytherins making their way down to the Great Hall. Harry was slightly surprised when William bypassed the Slytherin table and headed instead for the Gryffindor one. At Harry's curious look he shrugged.

"No one's really strict about sitting with your house. It's expected during feasts, but otherwise we just go where we want."

Sure enough when they got to the Gryffindor table they found Ron sitting in between the twins, and looking rather pleased with himself. "Morning," he called. "Sleep all right?"

His blue eyes scanned Harry's face, and Harry shrugged as he took the seat opposite. "As usual." Ron's eyes narrowed, but Harry forestalled him by nodding to the boys on either side of him. "Castor, Pollux."

Castor threw down his knife and folded his arms. "I hate your brothers, Ron."

"Er…" Harry glanced at William for an explanation, only to find his jaw hanging slightly open. "What?"

"How did you tell them apart?" William demanded. "You only saw Pollux yesterday, and that was only for a few seconds."

"Ron managed it too," said Castor grumpily. "Spoiling all our fun."

Ron just grinned and popped another chunk of bread in his mouth. "There are twins in my family," he told William. "And they're big enough menaces that we had to learn to tell the difference."

Pollux shook his head mournfully. "I suppose your friend is the same?"

Harry snorted. "She definitely learned the trick."

William grinned at his friends. "Looks like you're going to have to come up with something new."

Castor's eyes narrowed playfully. "Is that a challenge? And pass the cheese."

William did so, and shoved the big dish of bread at Harry in the same movement. "You should eat up. We've got Ravenclaw first, and she work us hard."

"How do you know who we've got?" Harry asked. He could see Slytherin and the other Founders still at the Head Table. William smirked at him.

"Can't tell you all my secrets straight away, can I?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but the smell of the food set his stomach rumbling. He'd still been feeling too queasy to eat much the previous evening, but being surrounded by the teasing and laughter was soothing his nerves far more than his uneasy sleep had. Ron nodded approvingly and grabbed another roll.

"Wonder where Hermione is."

Harry shrugged, and Pollux looked up. "Probably got distracted." Harry and Ron shared a blank look, and he nodded. "You really need to see the inside of Ravenclaw Tower."

Castor and William both grunted agreement through their food, and Ron shrugged. "Well, she's not going to get lost at least."

"Helena will keep an eye on her," William assured him.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, quickly hid their grins and went back to their own meals.

Sure enough, it was another ten minutes before Hermione and Helena appeared. By that time Ron and Castor had moved into a very enthusiastic conversation about healing spells, and William and Pollux were distracting Harry from his food with tales of some of the pranks they had played during their five years at the school. Harry was left grinning at their creativity, but also biting his lip so as not to tell them about some of the things the Weasley twins had come up with.

"…and ten minutes later everyone in the hall turned into a chicken."

Harry laughed, but Helena scowled as she dropped down onto the bench next to him. "Did they also mention that Uncle Salazar had us cleaning cauldrons for a week afterwards?"

Ron choked on his drink. "You were involved too?"

William snorted. "It was her idea."

"You can't prove that," said Helena serenely. "Would you pass the bread please, Harry?" Harry did so, and nearly fell off the seat when she actually smiled at him. "Thank you."

"No problem," Harry muttered. Someone kicked him under the table, and he looked up to see Ron staring very innocently in the opposite direction. William looked between the two of them and grinned, and Harry turned quickly to Hermione.

"So what's it like in Ravenclaw?"

Hermione looked tired, but she beamed at him. "They've got their own library," she breathed. "All sorts of manuscripts I've never seen before. I could have stayed there all day."

"Told you," Pollux murmured.

Helena frowned at him. "It shows that she belongs there," she said firmly.

Hermione barely seemed to notice. Ron rolled his eyes and nudged her. "You might want to eat something. You know, if you don't want to go passing out on them."

Hermione sighed and took the roll he handed her. "I know, but there's so much to learn."

Harry smiled at the pair of them, then caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and twisted round to see Slytherin approaching. The Founder looked the little group over and nodded approvingly. "I see you are all settling in well."

Harry smiled at him. "I think so."

"Good." He focused on Harry and William. "Both of you have Transfiguration first, with the Ravenclaws. I strongly advise against being late."

"Would we really be late on our very first day back?" William asked.

"You tell me," said Slytherin dryly. "And I suppose you both wish to continue with Potions?"

Harry nodded, despite the two of them having already discussed it. He really wanted to see the expression on Snape's face when he saw how much his basic technique had improved. William looked torn. "I want to get it right," he insisted. "I'm sure it'll all fall into place eventually."

Castor and Pollux exchanged a very sceptical look, but Slytherin just nodded. "Very well. You will be joining the Gryffindors after Transfiguration then."

He eyed Harry for a moment, but Harry kept his expression as bland as possible. He'd had enough of people worrying about him yesterday. Slytherin's eyes narrowed slightly, but he just nodded to them and moved off in the direction of Sigrun and her friends. Harry stared at his food for a few minutes, before giving up and pushing his plate away.

"We should probably get going."

William shook himself and looked up. "Oh, yes. Come on, I'll show you where the Transfiguration class is held." He stood and turned to Hermione and Helena. "Will you be accompanying us?"

The girls exchanged a look, and Helena nodded. "We might as well."

"This is going to be fascinating," said Hermione. "I haven't done any Transfiguration for a while."

"I'm surprised you've done any at all," Helena admitted as they left the hall. "Though I really shouldn't be, considering what you showed us yesterday." She glanced at Harry. "It was very impressive."

Harry managed a small smile. Impressive wasn't exactly the word he would have used, but at least Helena had finally warmed up to them. Hermione caught his mood, and promptly drew Helena into a discussion about what they could expect from her mother. Harry shot her a grateful smile, and then realised that it was unusually quiet. Harry quietly dropped back a few paces and coughed.

"Something wrong?"

William jumped slightly, and his pale cheeks flushed. "Sorry. I was thinking about something else."

Harry waited, and sure enough William continued after a moment's hesitation. "I'm not very good at Potions," he confessed. "Everyone says I should just concentrate on my other studies, but I don't want to just give up on it." He brown eyes flashed as he looked at Harry. "I know that I can do it. I just need to work a bit harder."

Harry frowned as he considered that. Hermione was much better at this sort of thing than he was. "What does Professor Slytherin say?" he asked finally.

William shook his head. "He probably hates having me in the class, but he's never said anything. You saw him earlier, as long as I'm willing to learn, he's willing to keep teaching me."

There was pure respect in his voice, and Harry had to smile. "I'm not too bad at Potions," he said hesitantly. "Maybe I can help?"

William blinked, then his face broke into a bright smile. "Thanks, Harry. I appreciate that."

Harry just shrugged slightly awkwardly, and was very relieved when Helena rescued him. "And here we are." She pushed open the door and the four of them trailed inside.

They were the first students there, but Ravenclaw was already sitting at her desk. She looked up at their approach and smiled.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," said Hermione. "But I didn't realise you had a complete set of Archimedes' principles. I've only been able to find the last three, and even they were incomplete."

Ravenclaw quirked an eyebrow at Helena, who rolled her eyes. "She did get some sleep," she confirmed. "Gaius and I saw to it."

"I wasn't the only one," Hermione protested. "Annis and Seward were as interested as I was."

"And we got them sorted out too," said Helena easily, as she sat down in the second row.

William leaned in to Harry. "Ravenclaws."

Harry grinned. At least some things would never change. He sat down next to Hermione and nudged her. "So you like it then? Ravenclaw, I mean."

Hermione's indignant scowl faded into a smile. "I really do. It's nice to be around people who are as interested in some of the same things as me."

Harry nodded. He and Ron did try, with varying degrees of success, to be interested in what their friend was doing, but talk in the Gryffindor common room rarely revolved around Archimedes' principles. They had always known that Ravenclaw would have been a good fit.

"What about you? What's Slytherin like?"

William was deep in conversation with Ravenclaw and Helena, but Harry still lowered his voice. "It's been fine so far. They're nothing like back home."

Hermione snorted. "Of course not. Professor Slytherin would never stand for that."

It was a mark of how far they'd come that neither of them had the slightest doubt about that.

Hermione's eyes suddenly gleamed. "Can you imagine what Snape would say if he ever found out that you're a Slytherin?"

Harry had to laugh at that image. "Probably have a stroke. Malfoy too."

"And wouldn't that be a shame."

As they talked, more students began to trickle in. Some of them Harry recognised from Slytherin, others he'd seen only briefly at the fest the previous evening, but they all bowed respectfully to Ravenclaw as they entered, and they all looked genuinely excited to be there. William glanced round as the door closed and hopped off the desk to scramble into the seat next to Helena as Ravenclaw straightened up.

"Welcome to Transfiguration," she said crisply. Hermione let out a soft contented sigh, and Harry bit back a grin. For now, everything was right with the world.

Harry was very relieved that Ravenclaw had been so insistent on them revising all their fifth year material. The class started with Vanishing mammals, and only got more complicated from then on. Hermione, of course, managed without any problems, and so did William and Helena, but Harry still found himself a little shaky. It was exasperating, considering his father had been so good at it, but Harry was forced to admit that it didn't look like he had inherited that particular aptitude.

"You need to concentrate complete on what you're doing," Hermione told him, as he stared down at a wriggling mouse tail. "And you're trying to force it."

"Quite," Ravenclaw agreed. "But that is a much better attempt."

Harry smiled at them both and tried again, and by the end of the session he was feeling reasonably confident with the exercise. Naturally that was the moment when Ravenclaw announced that they would begin Conjuration in the next lesson. That would be something to look forward to.

"What do you have now?" Hermione asked, as they followed the rest of the students out of the classroom.

"Potions," said William promptly.

Helena winced. "William..."

"What?"

Helena sighed and shook her head. "Never mind." She glanced at Harry. "Good luck."

She headed down the corridor with Hermione. William looked momentarily downcast, then shook himself. "One day," he muttered. "Come on, Harry. Professor Slytherin teaches down in the dungeons."

The corridors were a lot less busy than Harry was used to, and getting down to the dungeons didn't take nearly as long as normal. William pulled a face as they made their way down the steps. "It's always freezing down here. I never really understood why we can't have lessons in normal classrooms."

"I think potions need a stable environment," Harry offered. "You know, no drastic atmospheric disturbances or temperature changes."

William blinked. "Atmospheric disturbances?"

Harry could have kicked himself. "Er, it's what someone back home used to call changes in the air, like when it feels different before a storm."

"I see," said William slowly. "I've never heard of that. I remember Helena saying something about needing to be careful around potions, but not like that." He shot Harry an appraising look. "You must have some very good teachers back where you come from."

Harry winced. William had seen how much magic they knew already, he didn't need any more clues that there was more than everyone was saying. The other boy was studying him with definite curiosity, but when Harry opened his mouth to offer some sort of explanation he found his mind completely blank.

"Well..."

"They do show considerable promise."

Relief flooded Harry, and he spun round. "Professor. I didn't see you."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "How many times-"

"I know," said Harry quickly. "Pay attention."

William grinned at him. "You've been getting that too, I see."

"You are Slytherins," said Slytherin dryly. "It is expected." He stepped to the side and gestured for them to enter the classroom. "I trust I will see improvement over the coming year."

"Yes, sir," the boys chorused.

Harry found himself taking his usual seat out of habit, but was distracted by his new friend's clear unease. "You'll be fine," he said quietly.

William shot him a small smile, then jumped as Castor dropped into the chair next to him. The Gryffindor clapped his friend on the shoulder. "So, how long is it going to be before you blow up your cauldron?"

"You don't know that he's going to blow up a cauldron," Harry protested. His new friend was definitely beginning to look worried. Castor raised an eyebrow.

"I've got five years precedents," he shot back. "Just you wait."

Harry scowled at him, but William just shook his head. "He does have a point," he muttered.

Castor glanced between the two of them, and his grin faded. "Well, we'll keep an eye out. Who knows, this year might be better."

William didn't look convinced, but at that moment the door closed with a firm snap and Slytherin stalked lost them to the front of the room. All sounds of talking died down immediately, and he favoured the room with a small smile.

"Welcome to your first Potions class. We will begin with a review of the Dreamless Sleep Potion we covered last year."

Harry listened intently as Slytherin went over the steps of the potion, but he couldn't quite suppress his growing unease. He had managed to avoid his teacher's concern at breakfast, but he was under no illusions that that state of affairs would last. It wasn't that he was trying to avoid Slytherin, and he knew the man only wanted to help, but everyone had already spent too much time fussing over him.

He was right. Harry was in the middle of trying to explain to William why they couldn't immediately set their cauldron on full heat when there was a soft footstep and Slytherin came to a stop by their table. A single look sent William scurrying to collect ingredients, and then Slytherin fixed Harry with a piercing look.

"How bad were the dreams?"

Harry ducked his head, cheeks burning, and then realised his reaction had given his head of house the answer. Slytherin let out a very faint sigh. "I will attend to your dormitory." There was a slight pause before he continued. "Do you wish to continue with Occlumency?"

Harry's head snapped up. "Of course I do! I need to learn." He hesitated, then looked his teacher straight in the eye. "If that's all right?"

Slytherin's expression softened. "Of course. Come to my office after dinner tonight."

Harry nodded, then shuffled to the side to let William dump an armful of ingredients on the desk. The boy looked between them and attempted a grin. "Don't worry, Professor. I'll try not to blow him up."

"You won't," said Harry firmly. "Now, we'd better make a start on those leeches."

He caught a small smile from Slytherin as he turned to speak to Castor, and Harry had to smile as the warmth of the approval flooded through him. At least Slytherin did care about what was going on in his head. It was more than half the adults back home had ever done.

They worked quite happily for the next twenty minutes. It was easily the most relaxing lesson Harry had ever had; Slytherin paced about the room, offering advice and encouragement to Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, and there was a steady murmur of voices as their classmates worked together. The students surrounding them shot a few wary looks in William's direction, but the Slytherin followed Harry's directions to the letter, and by the time Harry went to fetch the Doxy wings for the next stage, he was feeling as relaxed as he was ever likely to be in a classroom.

One glance at his cauldron when he returned, though, had Harry reconsidering. The potion was fizzing wildly, and smelled strongly of liquorice. William frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything there was a sharp crackle and Harry threw up a Shield Charm an instant before the cauldron exploded. Shards of cauldron bounced off several other hastily raised charms, and someone had the sense to vanish the mess of potion before it caused any more chaos.

William just looked at him and ran a sheepish hand through his hair.

"Um. Sorry."

From behind him, Harry heard Slytherin let out a very faint sigh.

Fortunately, it looked like William had only needed to get it out of his system, because he didn't melt, blow up, or otherwise destroy anything else for the rest of the lesson. That may have been because Harry was checking and double-checking everything that even went near their cauldron, but it was progress, and William was still grinning when they made their way up to the Great Hall for lunch.

"That could have gone worse."

"Could have fooled me," Castor muttered. He glanced at Harry. "Thank you for not letting him kill us all."

Harry shrugged. It hadn't been too different to working with Neville back in first year. "He wouldn't have killed us. Knocked us out maybe, or dyed our skin purple..."

"Would not," William muttered under his breath, but his bright smile rather ruined the effect. He waved to Pollux and Ron, and began to make his way through the crowd to the Hufflepuff table. "This year is going to be great."

Pollux raised an eyebrow at them. "It went well then?"

William clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Seems our new friend is a bit of a Potions prodigy."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, but Ron covered the moment by choking on his lunch. "Wish our teacher back home could hear that," he spluttered. "He hates Harry."

"He hates everyone," Hermione corrected, as she dropped into the seat next to him.

"Yeah, but Harry most of all."

William shook his head. "Well, he must be a complete idiot. You should ask Professor Slytherin to go and have a word with him."

Ron's expression turned dreamy. "That would be brilliant."

"It would also never happen," Harry reminded him. "Anyway, how was Herbology?"

Ron shot him a look that told him quite clearly what he thought of his subtlety, or lack of, but he followed the subject change. "It was great. Professor Hufflepuff showed us these little weed things that blossom at noon and midnight and can be used to make burn salves."

"And to help rashes and general skin irritations," Helena added, from Hermione's other side. She shrugged. "It was as interesting as Herbology can be, I suppose."

Harry glanced at her. "You don't like Herbology?"

"Not particularly," Helena admitted. She spooned a healthy portion of stew into her bowl and passed the dish to Harry. "As much as I love Aunt Helga, I've never really had the knack for growing things. I'm much better at using them."

"That sounds like the opposite of one of my friends back home," said Harry. "He can grow anything, but Potions is his worst subject."

He picked up his spoon, but abruptly found himself no longer feeling hungry. Thinking about Neville still made him think about how he had led him, and Ginny and Luna, into danger and then abandoned them to the Death Eaters. He tried to force the thought away, brooding over something he couldn't change was pointless, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth.

"You must miss them."

Startled, Harry looked up to find Helena watching him closely, her dark eyes curious. He shrugged. "I worry about them," he said quietly.

Helena nodded, but didn't say anything, and Harry found himself continuing. "I love Hogwarts, but it feels wrong that I'm safe and learning all this stuff when they can't." He poked idly at a piece of turnip. "I wish they could be here too."

"It must be hard," said Helena. She glanced down the table to where their friends were talking. "I worry when they go home. I know I shouldn't, but these are dangerous times."

Harry grimaced. "I know. I don't blame you."

Helena gave him a small smile. "Is there no way they could join us?"

Harry just about suppressed a snort. "It's complicated."

Helena raised an eyebrow. "I see." She studied him for a moment. "Do you know how long you will be staying?"

"Not yet. As I said-"

"It's complicated," she finished.

Harry shrugged again. "We just want to learn as much as we can."

Helena looked at him for a long minute, then she nodded slowly. "Well, we can certainly help with that." She glanced at William and smiled. "And maybe we can learn from you too."

Harry smiled back. "That sounds good to me."

The rest of the meal passed quickly. The four students were easy to talk to; they teased each other with the familiarity of people who had known each other for years, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were quickly drawn into the group. Helena was more open than Harry had yet seen her, and between her dry comments, William's over the top antics, and the twins' bickering, the rest of the break seemed to fly past.

William was still teasing Pollux by the time they left for their joint Hufflepuff/Slytherin duelling session. Harry would have been quite happy catching up with Ron, but there was a mischievous gleam in his friend's eyes that left Harry eyeing him warily.

"What?"

Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "So what's up with Helena?" he asked quietly. "She ignores us for weeks, and now she's all friendly?"

Harry shrugged. "She's seen what we can do, and she's seen that we care enough to help. That changes things. She's really not that bad."

"And you still like her."

Harry could only shrug again. The only girl he'd ever been attracted to was Cho, and while Helena was easily as pretty as her, he didn't know her well enough for anything else, and that was without taking the whole time travel mess into account.

"Harry?"

"What do you want me to say?" Harry muttered. "Look, she's starting to warm up to us, and I think she could be a good friend. That's all, all right?"

Ron eyed him, but nodded. "If you say so, mate." A slight smirk crossed his face. "Reckon it can't go worse than Cho, at least."

Harry elbowed him in the ribs, and he held up his hands with a grin. "Just saying."

"Oh, shut up." Ron's grin widened, and Harry firmly changed the subject. "Wonder if we'll be using weapons this time."

"Probably not," Pollux called back over his shoulder. "Professor Gryffindor wants us to be fully proficient in magical duelling before he lets us anywhere near anything extra, and Professor Safdar's even worse."

"Can't imagine why," said William cheerfully.

"Don't look at me," Pollux protested. "That rule has been in place since long before we started here."

They turned off the staircase down towards the Armoury, and Harry found his unease rising. He had enjoyed their Duelling sessions, and he had been good at them, but that was before he had killed someone. The idea of fighting anyone so soon after that was not a pleasant one.

Harry forced that thought away with a scowl. The situation was completely different, he wasn't using that wand, and neither Gryffindor not Safdar would let anything really bad happen.

Besides, they needed all the experience as they could get. Holding their own against foot soldiers was one thing, but the only person Voldemort had ever feared was Dumbledore. Harry was a very long way from their level.

"Harry!"

The alarm in Ron's voice had Harry throwing up a Shield Charm automatically, but the force that exploded against it still sent him staggering back. Safdar lowered his wand and folded his arms.

"Your situational awareness is abysmal."

"What the hell was that?" Ron demanded. "You could have hurt him!,"

"Then he should not have walked into a Duelling session with his head in the clouds," said Safdar flatly. "Unless he also plans to do so in actual combat, in which case merely getting hurt will be the least of his worries."

Ron drew himself up, ears blazing red, but Harry caught his arm. "No, he's right. It was stupid." He turned to their teacher. "Sorry, sir."

Safdar held his gaze for a long moment before giving a curt nod. "Don't let it happen again." He swept back towards where the rest of the class were waiting, and Harry let out a breath. The man's teaching style was very different from Gryffindor's, but he made a good point. There was a time and place for worrying about the future, but one of their most demanding sessions wasn't it.

Like Ravenclaw, Safdar seemed to think they needed to brush up on their skills after the break, though he was slightly less harsh towards the students who had fought the previous day. Still, within a couple of minutes everyone had been paired off and Harry and Ron had moved back towards the other end of the room for some more space. Harry could feel his friend's eyes on him as they waited for the signal to begin, and sighed.

"What?"

Ron just looked at him. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," said Harry firmly. "We need as much practice as we can get."

Ron nodded ruefully and raised his wand. Harry did the same as Safdar's voice cracked through the room.

"Begin."

Harry was moving before the command even fully registered. "Expelliarmus!"

Ron only just got his Shield Charm up in time, and by then Harry had used a Stunning Spell as cover to dart to the side. From the new angle Ron was momentarily vulnerable, and Harry brought his wand round. One spell to crack ribs to incapacitate and enable him to be easily disarmed, and another to ensure he couldn't get up...

What?

Horrified, Harry wrenched his mind from that idea. "Expelliarmus!"

Ron's wand landed in his hand, and for a moment Harry could only stare at it. Where the hell had all that come from? He'd never thought like that before, not even when he was actually fighting properly.

"Nice one, Harry."

Harry looked up to find Ron grinning ruefully at him. "I swear you've gotten faster since last week," he called. His grin faded slightly. "Hey, everything all right?"

"I'm fine," said Harry shortly. There was nothing wrong with him. Ron's eyes narrowed, but Harry didn't give him the chance to interrupt. "Ready to go again?"

Ron sighed, and caught the wand Harry tossed him. "Guess so."

He immediately launched into a flurry of spells that varied in speed and intensity enough that Harry had to seriously concentrate on dodging and blocking, but mere seconds later he saw an opening. A whispered spell, and Ron yelped as the Stinging Hex caught his leg. His knee buckled, and a second later his wand was once again flying through the air. Harry caught it and frowned at his friend.

"In a real duel I could have taken your leg off."

Ron pushed himself up with a grimace. "Yeah, thanks for that."

"I'm serious, Ron."

If he'd used even a simple Reducto then Ron might never have walked again. And then, when he was on the ground, it would have been easy to seriously injure, or even kill him.

Harry didn't want to think about that, but ever he simply couldn't help it. Sparring had been fun before, but now all he could see was just how easily a simply mistake could have devastating consequences. Even looking around he could see gaps in William's defences, and patterns to how Pollux dodged, that anyone could exploit.

Harry felt sick. He was supposed to be training, but all he could think about was how easy it would be to kill or cripple his friends.

He was incredibly grateful when a drawling voice from the doorway interrupted those thoughts.

"Very impressive."

Harry spun round to see Edmund leaning against the wall by the door. The older man pushed himself upright and stalked towards Harry. "So yesterday wasn't just a fluke."

Harry realised his hands were still shaking, and clenched them into fists. "No," he ground out. He could feel Ron's anxious gaze on him, but Edmund merely inclined his head.

"We really must arrange that duel," he said. "I think it would be most educational for the both of us."

Harry could only stare at him, but Safdar grunted. "Would certainly teach you something," he muttered. "You finished disrupting my class now, Baron?"

Edmund drew himself up. "I wish to speak with you."

"Then come back when I'm done," said Safdar curtly. He turned back to Harry and Ron. "Are you ready to continue?"

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could do this. He had to do this. "Yes, sir." Ron's eyes narrowed, but a warning glance kept him from protesting. Safdar nodded.

"Let's get to it, then."

Harry took his place at the other side of the room again, but he couldn't help glancing after Edmund. The Baron was watching Safdar with a slightly mocking smile, but even as Harry frowned he turned and stalked from the room.

Harry frowned after him. Edmund hadn't done anything wrong, but there was something about him that made him uneasy. Duelling him was going to be interesting if nothing else.

"Harry?"

Harry sighed, and put Edmund from his mind before Safdar hexed him for not concentrating again. He could worry about Edmund later.

Harry wasn't in the mood for talking at dinner. Ron and Hermione knew him well enough to leave him in peace, and their new friends followed their lead, but there were still enough concerned looks thrown his way that it was a relief when the time came for him to meet Slytherin for Occlumency.

Slytherin's office door was ajar when he got there, and when Harry peered inside it was to find his teacher adding the contents of three different vials to a bubbling cauldron.

"One moment, Harry," he called, without taking his eyes from his work. "This is the delicate stage."

Harry took a step closer and squinted at the potion. "Is this the one that tells you if someone's untrustworthy?"

Slytherin spared him a quick smile. "It is indeed. And why are the timings for this particular step so important?"

"Because if you add the salamander blood after the mandrake tears then you end up with sludge," said Harry promptly. "And if you don't add the powdered Runespoor eggshells within two seconds of the tears then whoever you're dosing won't be able to answer any questions because they'll be dead."

The potion turned vivid purple, and Slytherin shot Harry an approving look. "You have been paying attention."

Harry felt himself flush under the praise. Slytherin always had something brewing in his office, and unlike Snape, he'd been only too happy to answer Harry's questions. Under his patient tutelage, Harry found himself enjoying Potions more than he ever had in his life. Slytherin waved his wand over the potion, then moved away from the table.

"We will leave that for two hours," he said. "Then two drops of Kneazle blood every six hours for the next three days and it will be finished."

Harry shook his head. "No wonder Professor Hufflepuff's always complaining that you don't sleep enough."

Slytherin settled himself in the armchair next to the fire and raised an eyebrow. "Harry, I don't think you of all people can accuse me of not sleeping enough."

Harry winced. He had really walked into that one. He slumped into the chair opposite Slytherin's and picked at a loose thread at his cuff. "It hasn't been that bad in months." Ever since their first night in the past, in fact. Slytherin nodded.

"I have already set wards in your dormitory. And on Ron's, Hermione's, and those of everyone else who fought yesterday."

"Thanks," said Harry quietly.

Slytherin held his gaze for a long moment, before nodding. "You are welcome. Now, are you ready to begin?"

Harry straightened up. If Slytherin wasn't going to ask about his feelings then he certainly wasn't going to bring it up. "Yes, sir."

"Very well."

The next hour passed in a blur. They were both confident in Harry's ability to block an attack he knew was coming, but maintaining constant shields were proving more of a challenge. Eventually Slytherin sat back.

"Well, you have a much better grasp of the basics, at least," he said thoughtfully. "I will have to test whether you can keep it up outside of these lessons."

Harry eyed him. "Does that mean you're going to start testing me during Potions?"

"An enemy won't give you warning first," Slytherin reminded him.

Harry nodded ruefully, then paused. "You're not just going to be testing me during Potions, are you?" Slytherin just smirked and he sighed. "Yes, sir."

Slytherin's face softened. "You have improved a great deal. I highly doubt you will have the same problems with your dreams as you did before."

"Thanks," said Harry quietly. That was something at least. No more leading his friends into traps for him.

"My pleasure."

He fell silent, seemingly content to keep an eye on his potion while he stroked a sleeping Zith, and Harry found himself the most relaxed he had been all day. The room was comfortingly familiar after so many lessons, and that combined with Slytherin's steady presence left Harry with the rare feeling of being perfectly safe.

It was that feeling that left him wanting to talk.

"I was afraid of hurting Ron today."

Slytherin nodded, but gave Harry the space to continue at his own pace. "I wouldn't have. I didn't lose control or anything. I just... It was so easy to see how I could really hurt, or..." He trailed off with a shiver. Slytherin sighed.

"That is how you must think in a duel," he said gently.

"I know, but it was Ron."

Slytherin leaned forward. "I understand, Harry. Godric and I both do. But you would never hurt the people you care about."

The absolute conviction in his voice almost made Harry smile, but there was something else. Something that had lurking in the back of his mind ever since they had first suspected there would be an attack. "They're not going to stop, are they?" he asked. "The Order...they're going to try again."

"Yes."

His voice was quite calm, but his eyes were chips of ice. Harry waited, and after a moment his teacher continued, "He was there, at the battle. Their leader. He didn't fight, but he was there." His hand clenched on the arm of the chair. "He was watching us. Testing us."

Harry felt sick. It was all too easy to imagine Voldemort in this leader's place, watching them, learning their weaknesses, planning where to strike... He wrenched his mind away with a shudder. "What are you going to do?"

"Godric and I will speak to some old contacts," said Slytherin softly. "Rowena will try to See what lies ahead. We will all prepare as best we can." He sighed and looked away. "We will everything we can to keep you all safe."

Harry nodded. It took only a second to come to a decision. "I'll help. I'm pretty sure Ron and Hermione will too."

A sharp eyebrow shot up. "Even after everything that has happened?"

Harry looked away. "I don't want to kill anyone," he said quietly. "But if it means keeping people safe..." He took a deep breath and looked back at his teacher. "I want to fight. I want to help."

He trailed off, but Slytherin's eyes softened in understanding. "Thank you."

Harry just nodded. He still didn't know if he could kill again, but he could fight. He could still defend his friends, new and old.

He was going to have to when they got home, after all.

Slytherin stirred and straightened up. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day."

Harry didn't need telling twice. He rose to his feet and dipped his head to his teacher. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Harry."

Harry smiled and let himself out. Whatever might happen in the future, he wouldn't be facing it alone.

He had only gone a few paces down the passage though, when a voice made him jump.

"There you are."

Harry spun round to find himself face to face with Myrddin. "Are you talking to me?"

His voice had gone a little higher than usual, but it wasn't every day the most famous wizard in history wanted a chat. Myrddin made a show of looking around the deserted corridor, and Harry winced. "Right."

Myrddin smirked and fell into step beside him. "Not lost, I hope. The castle can be tricky."

"I've noticed," Harry admitted. "It took a lot of getting used to." Even after five years he was still learning more. He was pretty sure the dungeons had changed since yesterday, but considering he had never gone further than the Potions classroom and Snape's office before that might be normal. Myrddin hummed in agreement.

"I can imagine."

He didn't say anything else, apparently quite happy to wander wherever Harry went, and Harry couldn't help eyeing him. "I don't mean to be rude," he said. "But did you want something?"

Myrddin shot him a look of such innocence that Harry was immediately on guard. "I like to get to know the new students. Unless it's a bad time of course, but you didn't seem busy."

"I...yeah, I'm not," said Harry warily. "It's fine." He had no idea what was going on, and he should probably be flattered considering who he was talking to, but there was a gleam in the older wizard's eye that set every instinct tingling.

"Excellent." White teeth gleamed in a sudden razor sharp smile. "So tell me, what is it like being a man out of time?"

Harry nearly fell over. "W-what?"

"I imagine things have changed a great deal in a thousand years," Myrddin continued blithely. "It must have been difficult to adapt. The food alone must have been a shock, let alone the magic, the weapons..."

He glanced at Harry, only to have to stop and retrace his steps as he realised Harry had frozen in place several seconds ago. "Is your head injury still affecting you, or is this just shock?"

Harry could only gape at him. "I don't know what you're taking about," he managed.

"Oh, we don't need to go through all that, do we?" said Myrddin impatiently. "It's as obvious as that scar on your head, and besides, Salazar already confirmed it."

Harry blinked. "What?"

Maybe he was being a little slow, but even for him this was bizarre. Myrddin wrinkled his nose. "I know you're more eloquent than this," he complained. "But if you are confused as to how I know that you and your two companions have travelled through time, well, you just don't fit."

That was enough to snap Harry out of his shock. "Right. Thanks. That makes perfect sense."

Myrddin waved a hand. "You don't feel like you belong. Your magic, everything about you... I can't understand how nobody else can feel it. Then again, none of them can feel the wards either," he added. "And half of them don't even notice dragons until they're breathing fire at their faces, let alone something that requires a modicum of subtlety, so I suppose I can't really complain."

"...What?"

Myrddin opened his mouth, but Harry held up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You can somehow feel that we don't belong in this time period? By our magic?"

The wizard shrugged. "I'd explain it, but the last time I tried to do that Rowena ended up hexing me, and I'd rather not do that again."

"Right," Harry muttered. When they said Merlin was the greatest wizard of all time, this hadn't been exactly what he had imagined.

"It must be difficult," said Myrddin quietly. "Especially with everything else you have to deal with."

Harry stared at him for a moment before the penny dropped. "You know about that too? Is there anything you haven't figured out?"

Myrddin held up his hands. "Actually, that part Salazar did tell me," he admitted cheerfully. "He thought I might have some ideas."

Exasperation warred with hope, before Harry gave up. "And do you?"

This time Myrddin just shrugged. "Possibly. I need to liaise with Helga. She knows much more about what the human body can take than I do." His eyes glittered in the torchlight, and Harry found himself taking a step back. "But such an abomination cannot be allowed to continue."

Harry froze. He'd gotten used to Slytherin and Gryffindor, and even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, looking dangerous, but he'd never seen anyone go from playful to downright homicidal that fast. It was even more startling than when Dumbledore did it. Myrddin muttered something under his breath and looked away, and when he turned back the slightly manic grin was back in place.

"So we'll fix it," he continued. "There's not much Helga and Salazar can't solve when they put their heads together." He pulled a face. "Rowena's helping too, but she's got her own project."

Harry just nodded. He didn't quite trust himself to speak just yet. Fortunately, Myrddin didn't seem to need an active conversational partner. "Of course, we can hardly blame her. Time travel...No one's ever thought it possible." His eyes turned dreamy. "The things we could learn if we could learn to control it fully..."

Harry had a sudden mental image of Myrddin being able to travel hundreds of years back and forth at will and just about suppressed a shudder. "I'll settle for just getting home," he muttered.

Myrddin nodded. "I understand. Though I expect you will have some explaining to do."

"Understatement of the century," Harry said with a snort. Just convincing everyone that they weren't insane or hoodwinked would be a nightmare, and that was before they started rewriting history. "No one's going to believe us."

"But you're going to try anyway?"

Harry shot him a confused look. "Well, yeah." He started walking again, more for something to do than out of any real desire to escape the conversation. Myrddin matched his pace in silence, and eventually Harry shrugged. "They think Slytherin's an evil, bigoted murderer," he said quietly. "And they think that Hufflepuff was weak and useless, and they get loads of other stuff wrong too. It's not right." Maybe it wasn't anyone's fault, but that didn't make it all right, and Harry wasn't going to let it continue.

"I know they won't believe us quickly, and some of them are too thick to ever listen, but we're going to try."

Myrddin stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "I am very glad to hear that." His stare turned appraising. "They've certainly made an impression on you."

Harry snorted. "They've done more for me than almost anyone back home ever did," he said flatly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I know what I'm facing now. No one's tried to hide anything, or lied to me. They helped us work out was happening, and they're helping us fix it."

And not just their Duelling sessions. From Gryffindor building Ron's confidence to Ravenclaw encouraging Hermione's studies, and Hufflepuff's unconditional support and Slytherin understanding... They had helped them for no other reason than that three students needed help. Even Slytherin, who would have been perfectly justified in resenting them for their prejudice, had helped Harry through his fears and self-doubts with a patient compassion and understanding that Harry could still hardly believe.

"You're really going to miss them, aren't you?"

Startled, Harry looked up. Myrddin's smirk had faded to a small smile, and his hazel eyes were very gentle. Harry swallowed. "Yes," he said quietly. "I will. We all will."

All of them, and perhaps Slytherin the most of all. Even the thought had Harry's stomach twisting uncomfortably. He had Sirius back home, and Lupin and Hagrid and the Weasleys, but over the last couple of months he had come to trust the Founder almost as much as he did Ron ad Hermione. The idea of losing that support was not a pleasant one.

"I see," said Myrddin.

That was all he said, but something in his voice had Harry frowning. "What?"

Myrddin grinned, and all traces of seriousness were gone as quickly as they'd arrived. "What?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. That approach was never going to work. Before he could think of an alternative though, Myrddin clapped him on the back. "Well, this has been most illuminating, but I'm afraid I really must be going."

"But-"

"Keep your spirits up. Do your homework. Eat three good meals a day. I'll see what I can find."

With that he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Harry stared at the spot where he had been standing, then up and down the deserted corridor.

"What?"

Chapter 21: Sparks

Notes:

Apologies for the delay, a combination of an increasing workload and ill health meant that I couldn't work on this as much as I wanted to. Thank you again for all the reviews, favourites and alerts, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

 


The next few weeks passed pleasantly enough. Harry, Ron and Hermione settled into their new houses and classes, and everything seemed to be going fairly well. Apparently risking their lives for the school was enough to make Helena completely drop the icy façade, and she, William, Pollux and Castor welcomed them into the group with open arms.

It didn’t take Harry long to realise that the four of them were incapable of keeping secrets from each other though. By the end of their first day, all of them knew that not only had Edmund challenged Harry to a duel, but that Gryffindor, Slytherin and Safdar had all given the idea their support. Helena had been delighted by the news, but as much as Harry wanted to win, he had to be realistic. He knew he had improved a lot over the last few months, but Edmund was a very good duellist; he had been training intensively for years, and had proven himself many times over. Harry’s chances were not looking good.

It was Helena who came up with a way to even the odds.

They were sitting at the Ravenclaw table at the time. Harry liked it there, mainly because the discussions around them ranged from the basic (but what’s the difference between a swish and a flick, and a wave and a jab?) to the advanced (no no no, inverting the third and twelfth runes completely disrupts the protective energies) to the simply bizarre (so what would happen if an Animagus got pregnant while in animal form?), and could never be called dull. Hermione was engaged in the runes debate with a passion that Harry had only ever seen back home when she had quizzed the sixth and seventh years in the Common Room, and the ease with which she had settled into her new house would have been disconcerting if she didn’t look so happy.

Then again, Harry and Ron had slipped into Slytherin and Hufflepuff with far fewer problems than either of them had anticipated. Ron had taken to showing the young, and old, first years the easiest way to their classes, all the while muttering about how being a prefect was surprisingly useful, while Harry’s willingness to be William’s partner in Potions had won him the gratitude of his own housemates.

Unlike Hermione though, Helena was showing no interest in her housemates’ discussions.

“You have to win, Harry.”

Harry just sighed and picked up another roll. “He’s got years more experience than me.”

“So did those Dark wizards,” William pointed out, with his mouth full. “And you did fine against them.”

Harry winced, but Helena just shook her head. “You’ve got three weeks. That’s plenty of time to improve.” Her dark eyes gleamed. “Especially since we are going to be helping you.”

Harry blinked. “You are?”

“We are?” William echoed.

“Yes,” said Helena firmly. She fixed the three boys with a sharp look. “We all are.”

The twins looked at her, at Harry, and then at each other, and gave identical shrugs. “Fine by us,” said Pollux. He and Castor, Harry had noticed, were generally good-natured enough to let Helena decide on a course of action.

William though, was frowning. “Aren’t you getting a little carried away?”

Harry glared at him, but Ron nodded. “He’s got a point. It’s just a bit of practice.”

“It is not just practice,” Helena ground out through gritted teeth. “It is a chance to show that arrogant, insufferable, self-obsessed swine that the world is not always going to bend to his will.”

Harry could only stare at her. Twin spots of red blazed in her pale cheeks, and he felt a sudden rush of sympathy. He hadn’t liked the way Edmund pursued Helena, but only because he was attracted to her himself. Harry had never even considered dealing with that much unwanted attention would be like. No wonder she was keen to see the man defeated.

William just sighed. “Helena-”

“And don’t you dare tell me to give him a chance,” Helena snarled.

"But you should," William protested. "I know he can be full of himself, but he's really not that bad. He always stops by the Common Room to help us out when he visits, and he always comes when Slytherin asks him to."

"I know he's a good man," said Helena flatly. "I know he's a powerful wizard from an important family, and that I could do a lot worse. That doesn't change the fact that I don't love him, and I'm not going to marry him."

Castor snorted. "You do remember that if your mother had married for love then you wouldn't be here."

Helena shot him a glare of utmost contempt. Ron opened his mouth with a frown, but Harry kicked him under the table and turned to Helena. “What did you mean when you said you could help?”

“Precisely that.” She dismissed Castor with a final disgusted scowl, and fixed flashing eyes on Harry. “As William said, he is always very happy to show everyone how good he is.” William rolled his eyes, but Helena didn’t even look at him. “We have all seen him fight on numerous occasions.”

Ron leaned forward, the remnants of his dinner temporarily forgotten. “So you know exactly what his strengths are.”

“Exactly.”

Harry hesitated, but if he had learned anything in Slytherin, it was that not taking advantage of an opportunity was stupid. Besides, Edmund had seen him fight a few times now. He looked at Helena and smiled.

“When do we start?”


Helga set aside yet another heavy book and rubbed at her eyes. Under normal circumstances, spending her time researching magical ailments and healing techniques was no hardship at all, but this was different. Not only was the subject matter darker than anything she had ever studied, but the stakes were the life, and quite possibly the soul, of an innocent boy.

They couldn’t afford to fail, but so far things had not been going well.

There was a tap of wood on the stone floor, then a soft voice reached Helga’s ears.

“I see you are having as much luck as I am.”

Helga looked up in time to see Salazar ease himself into the seat opposite her. The flickering candlelight sent shadows dancing across the sharp planes of his face, and Helga ran an appraising eye over him out of habit. He looked exhausted, but then they all did at the start of the year so Helga could hardly say anything. Instead, she just sighed.

“Nothing so far. Even the Ravenclaw family library proved unhelpful.” She hadn’t really been surprised, it was hardly the sort of subject Rowena’s parents would have any interest in, but it was rare for a search there to prove so utterly futile. “Was there nothing in any of your books?”

Salazar grimaced. “There is very little on Horcruxes, and even less on how to destroy them. As for destroying one without damaging the vessel…” He broke off, and shook his head. “I do not see how it can be done.”

The despair in his voice had Helga’s resolve hardening. “We will find a way,” she said firmly. She reached out to cover his hand with her own. “We must.”

Salazar stared at their hands, then gave her a very small smile. “Indeed.” His gaze travelled to the stack of books covering her desk, and sighed. “But as yet, I do not have an answer.” His voice dropped until it was barely audible. “I fear it may be impossible.”

Helga couldn’t deny that she had had the same thought. However… “Twelve years ago, everyone said that building a school where everyone could learn magic in safety was impossible.”

Salazar stared at her. Helga squeezed his hand. “You once told me to believe in myself,” she said quietly. “Now it is your turn to believe in us.”

Salazar continued to stare, and though Helga knew he would never use Legilimency on her, it still felt like he was looking into her very soul. She held his gaze, letting him feel the strength of her conviction. The four of them had always been able to do what needed to be done. This would be no different.

“Yes,” said Salazar softly. “We never let the odds deter us in the past.” He smiled at her, not his usual smirk, but one of the rare, soft smiles that lit up his face. “Thank you.”

Helga just smiled back. “You have done the same for me.”

Salazar sat back in his chair, and Helga was pleased to see that some of the tension had left his shoulders. “We cannot fail them,” he said quietly. “Harry does not deserve this.”

There was clear pain in his voice, and Helga’s stomach clenched. They had all come to care for their visitors, but the bond between Harry and Salazar was something else. “I know.” She looked down at the pile of books. There had to be a way of separating a soul from its vessel…

“Oh.”

Salazar straightened, grey eyes gleaming in the candlelight, but Helga barely saw him. “Souls,” she breathed.

“Excuse me?”

Helga focused on him, hope surging almost painfully through her chest. “We need a way to remove the soul fragment from Harry without harming him. The Dementor’s Kiss extracts the soul, but does no physical damage.”

What little colour he had drained completely from Salazar’s face. “You cannot be suggesting what I think you are.”

“Oh no, exposing Harry to a Dementor would be much too dangerous,” said Helga quickly. “But if we could examine the technique-”

“Examine the technique? How, by all the gods, are we supposed to do that?”

He was looking more agitated than he had been when they found out the Order had returned. Helga leaned forward to take both his hands in hers. “I think it could be done,” she insisted, then frowned. “Of course, we still could not be sure that only the soul fragment would be removed.”

Salazar ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I am no expert on soul magics, but I believe the fragment is only loosely attached to Harry. Voldemort did not intend to make him a Horcrux, and the fact that it happened at all appears to be a complete accident.”

Helga nodded slowly. “So it should take less effort to remove.” She took a deep breath. “Do you think it is possible?”

Salazar was silent for several long moments. Helga could see terror and revulsion warring with hope in his eyes, before finally his shoulders slumped. “It is a better idea than any I have had.”

Helga couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face. It would be dangerous, and they didn’t even know for sure if it would work, but it was a chance. “Then we can try.” A thought came to her, and her smile faded. “Though we still need to investigate the Dementors.”

She grimaced at the idea. The creatures themselves were horrible, but that wasn’t the only problem. Their time was already limited now that the students were back, and this would not be an easy task. Salazar just waved a hand.

“I will ask Myrddin to go. He has fewer demons than the rest of us, and far more free time. If he is taught the Patronus Charm, I doubt he will have any difficulties.” He gave a wry smile. “And he is the most likely of all of us to see something useful.”

Helga rolled her eyes fondly. Their former pupil was certainly unique. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t find them too interesting. He does have a tendency to lose track of time.”

Salazar smirked. “Not this time. I strongly suspect he won’t be any longer than two weeks before at least returning for a visit.”

Helga frowned, then nodded. “Ah, that duel.”

She still didn’t know why Edmund had proposed such a challenge, but Harry and his friends had thrown themselves into preparations with a fervour that had impressed even Safdar. “What do you will be the outcome?”

Salazar hummed thoughtfully. “It is difficult to say. Ordinarily Edmund would be the clear favourite, but Harry’s progress over the past months has been extraordinary.” His expression darkened slightly. “And he has Helena’s support.”

Helga grimaced. No wonder Edmund had had a face like a storm cloud every time she had seen him. “Why can he not let her go? She has made it clear that she is not interested, and he knows Rowena will not gainsay that.”

“Because pride is not the sole province of Gryffindors,” said Salazar with a sigh. “I believe he has come to see her rejection as a personal insult.”

“And she has managed a few of those as well,” said Helga dryly. “Perhaps you should talk to him again.”

“I can try. Whether or not he will listen is another matter entirely.”

Helga smiled at him. “If he will listen to anyone in the world it is you. Your opinion matters a great deal to him.”

Salazar met her gaze for a moment, and the emotion in his eyes took her breath away before he shook his head. “I will try,” he promised. He shook himself and gave a wry smile. “It will be good practice for Harry, at least.”

“And for Ron and Hermione too,” Helga agreed.  “They have been working very hard.” Everything that had happened had only made them even more determined to help their friend. Neither of them wanted to see Harry, or each other, in that position again. “I wish it were not necessary.”

“As do I,” said Salazar quietly. “But they would not have it any other way. Together, they are a truly formidable team.”

He fell silent, staring into the bright candlelight, and Helga knew his hopes and fears were her own.

They sat in silence for several minutes, each appreciating the comfort that was the other’s company, before Salazar sighed and straightened up. “Even if we can remove the Horcrux from Harry, it will need to be trapped in a suitable container before it can be destroyed.”

Helga frowned. “Do you know how to create such a vessel?” Certainly none of the rest of them would have the faintest idea where to begin.

Salazar rubbed at his eyes. “Some of my books contain some guidance, but I will need to speak to Zalasta again.”

Helga’s feelings of security vanished immediately. “Why?”

Salazar looked at her somewhat quizzically. “You know his knowledge in some fields exceeds my own.”

“Yes, but that does not mean I trust him,” said Helga flatly. “You should not go alone.”

“I have never trusted him,” Salazar assured her. “I know better, and I promise that I will be careful.” He grimaced. “In any case, there is much to be done before then.”

Helga eyed him, but decided against pressing the matter. There would be time enough for that particular battle later. Instead she sat back in her chair and gave her friend a small smile.

“So who gets to tell Myrddin that we want him to track down some Dementors?”


Deep in the forest, Myrddin sneezed.

“I have a sudden urge to be far away,” he told the nearest oak tree. “And I hate the cold. Gets into your very soul.”

The oak tree didn’t care.


“You really should eat something, Harry.”

Harry appreciated the concern, but his duel was less than two hours away, and his stomach was in too many knots to make any of the food in front of him appealing.

“She’s right, mate,” said Ron from his other side. “Remember how hungry you used to get during Quidditch matches when you didn’t eat before?”

“On the other hand, eating now might just slow him down,” William pointed out. “And what’s Quidditch?”

“Just a game we used to play back home,” said Hermione quickly, when Ron froze. William shook his head in bemusement.

“Where do you three come from?” he asked. “I’ve never even heard of half the things you talk about.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again, his mind blank. They really needed to get better at this. Hermione, though, answered promptly. “It’s just a little settlement down in the south,” she told William. “Our parents used to travel a lot, and they picked up some new ideas.”

“I see,” said William slowly, but Harry knew him well enough to see that his curiosity had only increased and cast desperately around for a change of subject.

“The ravens are late today, aren’t they?”

That had been another thing to get used to. It had been a bit of a shock to see a dozen ravens carrying the post every morning. Hermione had theorised that as the wizarding population had increased they had switched to owls in an attempt to avoid attracting attention, and neither Harry nor Ron had really cared enough to argue. They had all gotten used to the birds arriving around noon each day, and had gone back to trying to look like they belonged in the eleventh century.

Though judging by the expression on William’s face, they really hadn’t been doing such a great job of that. Nor did he look impressed by Harry’s efforts to distract him.

Fortunately, the ravens chose that moment to make their entrance. One skimmed low enough over Harry’s head to brush his hair with its feathers before dropping a roll of parchment in front of Castor. The Gryffindor picked it up and scanned it.

“Well, it looks like we’re getting another brother or sister.”

William grinned at him. “Congratulations. Any preference?”

“A sister,” said Pollux, as he peered over Castor’s shoulder. “Brothers are too much trouble.”

“And our parents are running out of names for boys,” Castor agreed, jabbing an elbow into his twin’s ribs as he read the rest of the letter. He rolled his eyes at Harry. "Our family has an obsession with classical mythology."

William glanced up. "Maybe they'll move on to star names or something. That already works with yours."

The twins snorted in unison. "Wouldn't surprise me if they'd planned it that way," Pollux admitted.

Harry, though, was staring at the twins. Next to him, Hermione too was gaping, but she recovered quickly. "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff… And you're the first in your family to come here, aren't you?"

Castor and Pollux exchanged a bemused look. "Well, yes," said Castor after a moment. "We are the eldest, after all. Our siblings won't be joining us for another few years." His eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," said Harry quickly. He very carefully didn't look at Hermione. They were going to have to remember this. A couple of people back home would be very interested. Ron looked between the two of them in confusion, but before he could say anything an imperious voice rang out.

“Excuse me, please.”

Harry was shuffling along the bench before he realised what he was doing, and he just had time to see Ron doing the same before Helena settled herself between them. She set a stack of books on the table and fixed Harry with a sharp look.

“Are you ready?”

Harry eyed her somewhat warily. Over the past two weeks she had proven to be as fierce a taskmaster as Oliver Wood. “I think so.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You think so?”

“He’ll be fine,” Ron jumped in. “He’s had loads of practice.”

“Then he should be sure he can win. Isn’t that right, Harry?”

“Er…” Harry glanced desperately at his grinning friends until William took pity on him.

“Oh, you haven’t heard the news, Helena,” he called. He jerked a thumb at the twins. “These two are going to be big brothers.”

“Congratulations,” said Helena shortly. “Now, Harry, I was thinking-”

“Is that all we get?” Pollux demanded.

Helena frowned at him. “Well, you do already have three younger siblings.”

“Well yes, but that’s not the point!”

Helena paused, and her pale cheeks flushed slightly. “Yes, perhaps that was a little rude of me. My apologies.”

“Accepted,” said Castor dryly. “But please, don’t let us keep you.”

Harry just had time to scowl at him, and receive a bright innocent smile in reply, before Helena was flicking through the first of the books.

“Yes, as I was saying, I’ve been doing a little more research into more unorthodox strategies…”

Harry looked around, but Hermione looked as intrigued as Helena, and Ron and the twins were barely stifling their laughter. William gave him a sympathetic look but no actual help, and Harry turned back to the book with a sigh.

“…so if he does use it might be worth using this instead one of your usual combinations, just to catch him off guard-”

“The duel’s in less than an hour,” Harry interrupted. “I can’t learn all this by then.”

“That’s no reason not to try,” said Helena shortly. “And there are one or two others that I think you should have a look at too.”

Harry was silently bidding farewell to any chance of some time to himself before the match when someone spoke from behind him.

“Harry?”

Helena fell silent as Slytherin’s clear voice cut through the chatter at the table, and Harry shot him a relieved look. “Professor?”

“Would you come with me for a moment?”

“Yes, sir.” He tried to contain his eagerness, but he still saw William cover a grin with his hand. Helena looked slightly disappointed, but a warning look from Slytherin kept her quiet, and Harry waited until he was well out of earshot before letting out a relieved breath.

“Thank you.”

Slytherin smirked at him. “You looked like you needed rescuing.”

“She’s worse than my old Quidditch captain,” Harry complained. “And he’d rather die than lose a match. Not literally,” he added quickly, as Slytherin raised an eyebrow. “He was just very passionate.” Helena’s fierce, almost desperate expression filled his mind, and he sighed. “And I guess Helena has good reason to be too.”

“Indeed,” said Slytherin quietly. “She used to respect him, but his attentions over the past two years have not been welcome.” He shook his head. “In any case, she should not be putting that resentment on you.”

“I don’t mind too much,” said Harry with a shrug. “She’s been brilliant over the past couple of weeks, and so have the others.”

“I’m glad to hear it. She can be somewhat obsessive.”

Harry grimaced. He had worked that one out for himself. They came to a stop in the draughty Entrance Hall, and Slytherin looked Harry up and down. “Do you think it will be enough?”

Harry opened his mouth, then paused to actually consider his answer. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We’ve been working hard, and I’ve got a good idea of what to do, but I know he’s very good too.” He shrugged, and pushed back the strands of hair that persisted in falling into his eyes. “I’ll do my best. Hopefully it’ll be enough.”

“That’s all we can ask,” Slytherin agreed.

Harry hesitated, but in the end couldn’t resist. “Of course, if you wanted to give me any tips…”

Slytherin shot him a startled blink, then his mouth curved into a slow smirk. “Well, he does have one weakness that Helena may not have considered.”

Harry waited, then sighed. “Which you’re not going to tell me.” The smirk widened, and Harry frowned again. “Not even a hint?”

Slytherin raised an eyebrow. “You only asked for a tip. But it is a weakness that you may very well share.”

Harry considered that. From what he’d gathered, the only thing they had in common was finding Helena attractive. His hair fell forward into his face again, and he pushed it away irritably. “At least I’ve got an hour to figure it out then.”

Slytherin eyed him. “Indeed. Of course, your other weakness will be not being able to see what he is doing.”

Harry fought back the urge to tidy his hair again. “I’m not used to it being this long,” he muttered. “And I’ve never been able to control it anyway.”

Slytherin just looked at him. “You realise it is long enough to tie back?”

Harry flushed. “I guess so.” He’d never really thought about it, but he clearly did need to do something with it. “With what?”

Slytherin raised an eyebrow and flicked his wand, and Harry caught the dark green ribbon that knit itself together from thin air. “Oh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Harry tried to tie it up, only to find himself with rather more hair than he had realised. Slytherin gave a faint wince and held out a hand. “If I may?”

Harry surrendered the ribbon with more relief than embarrassment. He didn’t need to go out in front of half the student population looking like a complete idiot. Slytherin tied his hair at the nape of his neck with quick, practiced movements, and Harry felt a rush of nostalgia. The last time someone had tried to tidy his hair for him it had been Mrs Weasley before his hearing. This was rather different, but Harry felt just as comfortable with Slytherin as he ever had with Ron’s family. Slytherin moved round to consider his handiwork and nodded.

“Much better.”

Harry twisted round to try to spot something reflective, and grinned when the motion didn’t result in a mouthful of hair. “It feels much better,” he agreed. “Thank you.” It was definitely better than trying to mess around with it in a duel.

Slytherin merely nodded, but Harry recognised the affection in his eyes, and another pang shot through his heart. He really was going to miss Slytherin when this whole crazy adventure was over. The Founder looked at him and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Hufflepuff stepped out from the Great Hall. She looked at the two of them, and her face broke into a bright smile.

“I like it.”

“Really?” Harry asked. It wasn’t exactly his usual style.

“Really,” Hufflepuff assured him. “It suits you.” She glanced at Slytherin, eyes dancing, and the wizard frowned.

“What is it?”

Hufflepuff’s smile widened, but she shook her head. “Never mind.” She looked at him, all traces of amusement fading. “Myrddin has returned.”

Slytherin tensed, but Harry was too busy backing up to wonder why. “Where?” he asked urgently.

Hufflepuff blinked. “Talking to Rowena…He’s really not that bad, Harry.”

“He’s weird,” said Harry flatly. “And he knows everything. It’s not a good combination.”

“That is true,” Hufflepuff allowed. “But he does mean well.”

Slytherin nodded. “And he may have some useful information for us.”

Harry perked up at that. “Useful information?” That sounded promising. The two Founders exchanged a long look before Slytherin turned back to Harry.

“We may have an idea as to how we can remove that Horcrux,” he said. “But I would like to hear what Myrddin has discovered before we go any further.”

For a moment Harry wanted to demand to know what was going on, but he forced that impulse down. If Slytherin wasn’t telling him something, Harry knew that there had to be a good reason.

As if sensing Harry’s thoughts, Slytherin rested a hand on his shoulder. “I will tell you everything when I can,” he said gently.

Harry breathed out the last of his frustration and looked his teacher straight in the eye. “I know, sir.”

Slytherin gave him a warm smile, then squeezed his shoulder and stepped back. “You concentrate on your duel. We will sort this out.”

Harry nodded. At least the conversation had settled his nerves. “You’ll be there, right? For the duel?”

“I have no intention of being anywhere else.”

Hufflepuff nodded agreement with a smile, and as Harry watched them head back into the Great Hall he found himself smiling so hard his cheeks ached. Helena might not be happy if he lost later, but hers wasn’t the opinion that mattered the most to him.

“Hey, Harry.”

Harry looked up in time to see Ron heading for him. His friend didn’t stop, but caught his arm on the way past. “Come on. William’s helping Hermione stall Helena, but the twins are having too much fun to be any use.”

Harry grinned, and let Ron drag him up the stairs. “Better escape while we can then.”

The energetic climb left both of them breathing hard, despite all the physical training Gryffindor had had them doing, but the exercise cleared Harry’s head. Ron looked him over once they got to the second landing and nodded to his hair.

“I might have to give that a go.”

Harry nodded, feeling the weight at the back of his neck. “It’s a lot easier.” A memory came to him and he smirked. “And I know Hermione always liked the look on Bill.”

“Dunno what that’s got to do with anything,” Ron muttered, but his cheeks and ears had blazed red and Harry fought back a grin. Ron glared at him. “So, did Slytherin have anything else to say?”

They turned down towards the Armoury, and Harry shrugged. “Just that I should do my best.” He’d already decided not to say anything about Myrddin. There was no point in getting everyone’s hopes up just yet. “Oh, and that we both have the same weakness.”

“Huh. Don’t suppose he said what that weakness was?”

“Course not,” said Harry with a snort. “That would be far too easy.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “As if either of you would have it any other way.”

That was a pretty good point, not that Harry had any intention of admitting it. The challenge, when it didn't involve life-threatening danger, was part of what he liked about duelling.

The Armoury was deserted when they entered. The usual training equipment had been cleared, and the room suddenly looked very large, and very empty. An arena had been marked out, but there was plenty of room for spectators, and Harry swallowed.

"How many people do you reckon will come?"

Ron shrugged. "Everyone in our Duelling class at least. They all know you're the best, and they want to see what you can do. And then there's all their friends, and the people they've told, and our teachers..."

"Thanks," said Harry sourly. His nerves we returning with a vengeance.

Ron's grin faded, and he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Come on, you'll be fine. There's loads more people at Quidditch matches, and you always do fine there. Just concentrate on beating that git and don't worry about us."

Harry snorted, and Ron rocked back on his heels with a satisfied grin. "You'll be fine. You've fought V-Voldemort for goodness sake! You're not going to have any problems with some stuck-up idiot who can't take no for an answer."

"He's not that bad," said Harry half-heartedly. Ron raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. "Okay yeah, he hasn't been nice to Helena, but William likes him."

"William's weird," Ron muttered. "Even more than the rest of them," he added, when Harry opened his mouth.

"Well I like them."

"So do I. Doesn't mean they're not weird."

"I'm pretty sure they say the same about us," Harry pointed out.

Ron just shook his head, but there was a smirk dancing on his lips and Harry realised his nerves had faded. His best friend had always been good at that. Ron clapped him on the shoulder without speaking, and Harry nodded. He'd faced Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He could handle a friendly duel.

The two boys chatted easily for the next ten minutes, both avoiding any further discussion on the upcoming duel. Students started to trickle in, some of whom Harry had never spoken to, but the whole of Slytherin turned up, Sigrun informing him that since both duellists were Slytherins the house would be split equally in their support. She also added with a wink that she certainly wouldn't mind seeing the young nobleman taken down a peg or two.

Hermione and their close friends were some of the last to arrive, for which Harry gave her a grateful smile. Helena seemed a little subdued, but the boys were more than happy to bombard him with last minute advice.

"He likes to watch and wait before attacking, so be careful."

"And he's really good at countering tricky spells.

"But he's got a really bad temper, which is good if you can use it but he will get nasty."

"All right, that's enough," said Hermione firmly. She ignored their grins as she turned to Harry. "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged. "I just want to get it over with." Like with facing the Horntail, and the battle with the Order, it was the waiting he couldn't deal with, and he found himself glancing at the door every few seconds. What was keeping the Founders and his opponent?

"He may be doing it on purpose," said Helena softly. Harry glanced at her, and she elaborated, "He likes to put his opponents on edge."

Hermione flushed. "He can't do that."

Helena gave a rather half-hearted shrug. "It's a valid tactic, and he is a Slytherin." Her eyes glinted. "Though Uncle Salazar won't let him go too far."

Despite his annoyance, Harry had to admit that it was working. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe evenly. Even before coming to this time he had been good at Defence. Now that he had had proper training, and some more experience, it wouldn't be bragging to say that he was more than good.

There was a movement at the door, and Harry looked up in time to see his opponent finally enter. Edmund was dressed in formal black robes and, like Harry, his hair was tied back out of the way. His mouth curved into a sneer as he met Harry’s gaze, and Harry had to force down the urge to reciprocate. He’d let his duelling speak for him.

He was glad of his restraint a moment later when Slytherin and the rest of the Founders appeared behind Safdar. The sneer disappeared at a single raised eyebrow, and Harry tried not to look too smug as the group made their way towards him. Hermione glanced between the two of them and sighed.

“Harry, you do remember that this is supposed to be a friendly practice duel, don’t you?”

Ron and Helena snorted in unison, and the boys exchanged badly concealed smirks, but Harry just scowled. “It’s not like I wanted all this.” His exasperated wave encompassed the still-growing audience. Hermione bit her lip, but before she could say anything the rest of the group joined them.

“Good afternoon to you all,” said Gryffindor brightly. “Are you ready, Harry?”

Harry swallowed, but every face save Edmund’s showed only encouragement, and he managed a firm nod. “I think so, sir.”

“Excellent. Safdar will be officiating, so I will leave the formalities to him.” He smiled at the two duellists. “I am sure you will both do us proud.”

“We will, sir,” said Edmund. He turned to Harry, and held out his hand. “May we both fight well.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that, but Edmund didn’t seem offended. Actually, his attention was already back on Helena, and Harry couldn’t decide whether to be amused or insulted. Safdar just rolled his eyes.

“Any time you two feel like taking your positions?”

Harry blushed, and after a quick hug and clap on the back from Ron and Hermione, and wishes of good luck at varying volumes from his friends, he walked to the far side of the marked area. Edmund stood opposite him, and the crowd fell silent as Safdar stopped exactly between the two of them. Harry caught Slytherin’s eye, and the Founder gave a small smile that settled Harry’s nerves before Safdar cleared his throat.

“This will be an informal duel between Edmund, Baron of Drake’s How, and Harry Potter. One wand each is permitted only. There will be three bouts, each of which will end when one duellist is disarmed. Excessive or lethal force will result in immediate disqualification and judgement.”

The Founders nodded grimly, and Harry swallowed. It would be a very brave, and very foolish, wizard who risked that. Safdar’s eyes flashed as he turned to the crowd. “Likewise, any form of interference will not be tolerated.”

Judging from their expressions, Harry was fairly sure that there wouldn’t be any issues there.

Safdar nodded in satisfaction, and turned back to Harry and Edmund. “Are you prepared?”

“I am.”

Edmund’s voice was clear and confident, and had Harry straightening.

“I am.”

“Then take your positions.”

Harry took a breath, then turned so that he was standing at an angle to his opponent, and raised his wand. Across the field, Edmund had assumed a similar stance. Safdar nodded at the two of them and stepped back.

"Begin!"

Harry was moving before the command had even registered. He threw up a shield, and his instincts were justified when two lightning fast spells smashed against it. Harry fired his own Stunning and Disarming spells but kept on the move. It was the style that came most naturally to him, and all of his friends found it difficult to counter.

Unfortunately, Edmund was rather better than fifth and sixth year students. He deflected both of Harry's attacks with ease, and countered with a hex that Harry chose to dodge rather than risk blocking. From the crackle it made as it went past, he was very glad he'd avoided a standard shield. That had felt nasty.

So Edmund could handle himself. Harry had expected as much. A grin stretched across his face. It was time to speed things up a bit. He took a deep breath and launched into his favourite combination. The field lit up in a rainbow of lights, and Harry saw with satisfaction that Edmund had been forced to concentrate solely on defence. Harry increased his rate of casting, taking care to keep on the move, until finally Edmund's shield faltered just enough for Harry's next spell to send him flying through the air.

"Winner, Potter!"

"Yes!" Ron cheered. "Nice one, Harry."

Harry spared him a quick grin, and was pleased to find Helena beaming at him. Slytherin caught his eye and gave him an approving nod, and Harry smiled back before turning to face Edmund again. The Baron stretched out his bruised shoulder, giving Harry an appraising look as he did so. He didn't say anything, but it was better than disdain, so Harry just smiled and raised his wand.

"Ready?" Safdar asked.

Both wizards nodded, seconds later spells were once again flying through the air. Harry launched another blazingly fast series of spells, but his time Edmund was ready. He flicked his wand in a movement so fast Harry couldn't track it and was suddenly surrounded by a brilliant bronze dome. Every one of Harry's spells dissipated in a harmless shower of sparks, and Edmund took advantage of Harry's surprise to go on the offensive.

Harry darted sideways, only to have to throw up a shield as he nearly stumbled straight into the path of a nasty looking curse.

"Damn it!"

A quick assessment confirmed his fears. Edmund was spreading his spells out enough that simply avoiding his attacks was impossible if he didn't want to get herded into a trap. No doubt Ron was taking careful notes. Harry forced that thought aside and tried to counter-attack, but with his movements restricted he was forced to resort to shields and it was far more draining on his reserves. Taking back the initiative was impossible; Edmund's control of the battlefield was simply too great, and Harry was sure he was tiring more quickly than the older wizard.

That was confirmed when Edmund cast three spells in quick succession. Harry caught the first two, but the third shattered his shield and Harry couldn't suppress a cry as a line of white fire whipped across his leg. He stumbled, his injured leg abruptly unable to support him, and was unable to block the Bludgeoning Curse that lifted him off his feet and sent him flying across the room. He hit the floor with a crash, and through the explosion of pain he heard a sharp voice.

"Winner, Baron Edmund. Mind the excessive force."

"Of course, sir."

There was a grunt, and then Safdar's face swam into view. "Are you fit to continue?"

Harry gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet. His injuries weren't debilitating, but there was no way he was backing down now. It still took a moment to catch his balance, and he could feel his face burning. Getting beaten like a first year was bad enough, but having it happen in front of his best friends, the Founders, and the girl he kind of liked...

Wait.

Harry's head snapped up. As he'd suspected, Edmund's gaze was fixed not on him, but on Helena's slender figure, and Harry drew in a sharp breath. Of course. That was what Slytherin had meant.

His leg and ribs throbbed, but Harry felt a grin stretch across his face. He still had a chance to win. He wasn't going to waste it.

"If you're finished, Potter?"

Harry turned his attention back to Safdar and nodded. "Yes, sir."

His ribs ached, and putting pressure on his leg felt like a bad idea, but he had no intention of giving up now. He could feel Ron and Hermione's anxious eyes on him, but Harry didn't take his gaze from Edmund. The older man had surprised him, but if nothing else, Harry had learned to adapt. Safdar looked between the two of them and nodded.

"Begin!"

Harry began with the expected barrage, but this time he had a plan. Edmund blocked the assault with a contemptuous smirk, but in doing so he missed the utterly inconspicuous jinx that slipped past his shield.

He did notice very quickly when his robes turned bright pink. Harry had never actually seen someone turn that red so fast.

There was silence for a split-second, before it was broken by a peal of laughter. Both Harry and Edmund recognised it, but while Edmund froze in place, Harry seized his chance.

"Harry, green and orange do not go with pink!" Ron yelled.

Harry thought he'd done rather a good job with the polkadots. Helena certainly seemed to think so; she was clutching her ribs, and laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. Edmund stood staring at her in utter mortification, and Harry felt a quick twinge of guilt, but the sympathy died when the Baron whirled on him with a face like a Basilisk.

"You..."

He lashed out, word failing him, but Harry had already summoned his strongest shields, and the attack did nothing. Edmund paused at the sound of Helena's redoubled laughter, and Harry could see him desperately trying to cancel the charms on his robes, so took the opportunity for another whispered spell.

This time, he targeted his opponent's hair tie, and within seconds Edmund was stumbling back as his own hair wrapped itself several times around his face. He tripped and fell to the ground with a crash, and Harry jabbed his wand forward.

"Expelliarmus!"

There was no resistance. Harry took three steps forward and plucked his opponent's wand from the air.

For a long moment there was complete silence. Harry stood still, breathing heavily as he stared at the wand in his hand. On the other side of the room, Edmund had regained control of his hair, and was sitting on the floor, open-mouthed with horror. Harry could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating as the calm before the storm, and fought back a sudden, very unsuitable urge to giggle. It was fairly safe to say that no one had been expecting that.

The moment was broken by a familiar voice.

“That was bloody brilliant!”

Harry looked round, and just caught sight of two beaming smiles before he was pulled into a bear hug that nearly knocked him off his feet.

“That was fantastic, Harry,” Hermione squealed in his ear. “I admit that I was a little worried after that second bout, when he caught onto what you were doing, but you turned it around wonderfully! But how are you? I know your ribs took some damage, and you must let us take a look at your leg, and-”

“Let the man breathe, Hermione,” said Ron in between his laughter. He let Harry go, but kept a supportive hand under his elbow, which was just as well when twin thumps on either shoulder sent Harry staggering.

“Where did you learn that?” Castor demanded. “And don’t you dare say it was Safdar, because whoever came up with those actually has a sense of humour.”

Pollux’s eyes were gleaming with excitement. “You have got to teach us how to do that.”

“He certainly does,” said a new voice, and Harry looked up to find that Helena had joined them. There was a very curious look in her eyes, but it vanished as Harry met her gaze and she gave him a warm smile. “Well done, Harry.”

“Thanks,” said Harry breathlessly. Between the stress of the duel, and the shock of actually winning, he was beginning to feel quite lightheaded. Ron eyed him.

“Seriously, mate, how are your ribs? That spell looked nasty.”

“It felt nasty,” Harry admitted. “But I’m all right for now.” He still hadn’t see William or the Founders, and he was starting to get worried. He had won, but it hadn’t exactly been a conventional battle.

All doubts were erased though, when he turned to find Slytherin studying him with a small smile on his face. His eyes fairly glowed with pride, and Harry felt the last of his tension drain away. Helena followed his gaze and stepped aside, and Harry grinned as the Founder approached.

“I worked it out.”

“So you did.”

Harry could quite happily have basked in that quiet approval for longer, but Gryffindor was approaching, and while he didn't look upset, he wasn't exactly smiling either. Slytherin rested a hand on his shoulder, but kept quiet. Gryffindor came to a stop in front of them and shook his head.

"I probably should have expected that."

Harry swallowed. "I knew after the second bout that my normal strategy wasn't going to work again, but with Helena watching-" He broke off as Gryffindor raised and hand.

"It was a good strategy." He glanced at Slytherin and smiled. "Very cunning."

Slytherin squeezed Harry's shoulder, and Harry could practically feel his pride. "Thank you, sir."

Still, he couldn't help glancing over at Edmund. William was helping the Baron sort out his robes, though he did spare Harry a quick grin when their eyes met, but Edmund himself looked furious, and Harry couldn't blame him. It hadn't exactly been a nice tactic.

They weren't supposed to be nice in a duel, Harry reminded himself firmly. Besides, Edmund certainly hadn't gone easy on him. His ribs throbbed at the thought, and he had to bite back a groan.

"All right, time to let me have a look," Ron announced. He waved his wand silently over Harry's side, and Harry felt a fierce, cleansing heat burn through his chest before the pain faded completely. "How's that?"

Harry took a deep, careful breath and smiled at Ron. "Much better. Thanks, mate."

Ron clapped him on the shoulder, and crouched to repeat the process on his leg. Gryffindor eyed him approvingly. "You're getting very good at those spells."

Ron's ears blazed red, but he didn't look up from his work. "Thanks. They just come easier than the other stuff we've been learning."

"Good," said Harry fervently. Neither he nor Hermione had shown any aptitude for healing, and considering the amount of trouble they got into, it was very lucky that Ron had. The throbbing in his leg eased to a dull ache, and Ron pushed himself upright.

"You should take it easy for a bit, but there was no serious damage," he told him. "Good thing you didn't try anything too energetic for that last one."

Harry nodded, but at that moment Hermione grabbed his wrist.

"Edmund."

Harry looked up in time to see a very unhappy looking Baron stalking towards him. William hovered back, shooting Harry an apologetic look, but Harry only had time to gather himself before Edmund drew himself up.

"That was not an honourable duel," he hissed.

Harry opened his mouth, but Slytherin's grip tightened slightly on his shoulder, and he took a moment to centre himself before replying. "I was trained to fight to win," he said evenly. "And I wasn't the one casting full strength Cutting and Bludgeoning Curses."

"You humiliated me," Edmund spat. "You-"

"You proved unable to avoid or dispel simple jinxes," Slytherin interrupted, and Harry flinched at the ice in his voice. Edmund paled, but Slytherin didn't give him a chance to interrupt. "Accept your loss. Your behaviour dishonours you."

Edmund glared at him, then at Harry, and Harry had to resist the urge to step back at the pure loathing in his eyes. For a moment he thought Edmund was going to protest, but the Baron just let out an incoherent snarl and stalked from the room.

"Good riddance," Helena muttered.

Slytherin shot her a reproving glance, but Harry couldn't help but agree with her. Gryffindor just let out a long sigh. "Salazar..."

"I will talk to him," said Slytherin softly. Harry saw clear concern in his grey eyes, before he shook himself. "You did well, Harry. I am very proud of you."

The words eased Harry's concerns, and he managed to smile back. That approval made the whole experience worth it. Helena's warm smile was just the icing on the cake.

The silence was broken by a familiar cheerful voice. "Well, that was fun. Does anyone-"

"No!"

Myrddin huffed and folded his arms. Harry could only laugh.


"Dementors."

Rowena shot him an amused look over her wine. "Repeating it isn't going to change anything."

"They're Dementors," said Godric flatly. His own drink had been abandoned in favour of pacing up and down the office. "I seem to be the only one reacting appropriately."

"They did tell us about their idea."

"I know, but I didn't think they would they would make this much progress so soon." He shook his head as he slumped down into the chair opposite his friend. “I still find it difficult to believe that it was Helga who brought it up."

“Why?” Rowena asked. “She has always been the most open to the possibilities of magic.”

Godric acknowledged the point with a tilt of his head. As Muggleborn and raised, Helga had a different perspective on magic, and what it could it accomplish, than the rest of them. It was an invaluable ability, and this latest theory was proof of it. He closed his eyes, and forced back his initial reaction.

"Do you think it could work?"

Rowena was silent for a long minute before she replied. "It has potential. We know that they are capable of removing the soul without causing any physical harm, and Myrddin's report sounded promising."

Despite the words there was no mistaking the wariness in her voice and Godric sighed. "But it's still a Dementor."

Rowena grimaced. "I hope it is possible. If we work together, we may be able to do it, and Myrddin still has research to do." She set aside her wine and echoed his sigh. "Besides, the fact remains that we do not have any better ideas."

They kept coming back to that, Godric reflected ruefully. Damn Tom Riddle to hell for unleashing his madness on the world. He took a deep breath and rested his head back against the chair. "We will do what we can."

They fell into a silence made comfortable by decades of friendship. Godric had lessons to plan and research to do, but the room was pleasantly warm, and Rowena's company was a balm to his soul. After the day they had had, the peace was a blessing.

As ever, Godric couldn't keep his attention from drifting to Rowena. The years had failed to touch her; her hair was still as dark as the night, free of the grey that touched Godric's, and her eyes were bright and clear. She was as beautiful as she was the day they had argued, and Godric's breath caught at the familiar pain of the what-could-have-beens.

Before all that though, they had been friends, and Godric valued that friendship more than almost anything. Even if things hadn't gone as they had planned he wouldn't change what had happened for the world. After all, if not for that argument he would never have met Salazar, and Godric couldn't bring himself to imagine the way Salazar's life would have gone. Without Salazar, Godric would never have made it back home, and Helga would have died without ever realising what she was capable of.

Strange that such small things could change the course of one's life so completely. Even a few unexpected visitors could throw the world into chaos.

"Harry did very well today," Rowena murmured.

Godric had no qualms about letting his pride show. "He did indeed. He made good use of all our teachings." It had been a long time since he had had such an adept student.

Rowena nodded. "Helena was very pleased."

They exchanged a knowing look, and Godric chuckled. "I cannot say that I was too disappointed in the result either." For all that Edmund had been an excellent student, his insistence on pursuing Helena had left Godric feeling rather indisposed towards him. "Even Salazar approved."

"Of course he did," sad Rowena quietly. "He will always support Harry."

Her voice turned distant, and Godric tensed but remained quiet. Rowena was silent for a long minute, then she let out a long shuddering sigh. "Nothing," she muttered. "Every path is clouded." She looked up, eyes dark with rare uncertainty. "Godric, nothing is clear."

Godric swallowed, and leaned forward to take her hands. "It is no fault of yours," he said. "A lot has happened recently. Your visions will return."

"That is precisely the point! This is not a good time to be blind, Godric."

"We will manage," Godric insisted. "We always have in the past." He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "We will not fail them."

Rowena didn't reply, but Godric felt a little of the tension leave her body and let out a shaky sigh of his own. Rowena had always found having such an unpredictable gift difficult. Under the circumstances, her concerns were well-founded.

Something she had said lingered in his mind though, and he had to put a voice to it.

"You said that Salazar will always support Harry."

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "But of course. You must have seen it."

Godric frowned. He had seen, and whole-heartedly approved of, Harry's increasing ease with Salazar, and he knew that Salazar was very protective of the boy, but thinking about it...

"He looks at Harry like he does Murtagh," he whispered. Rowena smiled, leaving Godric gaping at her. "Murtagh is his sister's son. They are family."

Rowena gave a very elegant shrug. "I rather suspect that Salazar considers Harry family too, even if neither of them fully realise it yet."

Godric slumped back into the chair, his mind whirling. Salazar didn't open up easily, and Godric could count on one hand the number of people he truly trusted. He cared deeply for all his students, Ron and Hermione included, but for Harry to become so close so quickly was extraordinary.

"It is no bad thing," said Rowena softly, and Godric looked up to see her staring thoughtfully into the fire. "They are good for each other."

Godric nodded. They all knew how much Harry needed support, support that had decidedly lacking from the adults of his time. If Salazar had taken on that role, and they had learned to trust one another, then it could only be a good thing.

Still, the thought refused to leave Godric's mind. He tried to concentrate on his work, but knew he hadn't been entirely successful when Ron started sending him concerned looks during their Occlumency sessions. The boy was getting far too perceptive, and Godric was relieved when Ron let him divert the conversation onto his progress with Healing.

There was really only one thing to do, and his was the house of the brave. Two hours later found Godric outside Salazar's office. The door opened at his touch, and Godric took a deep breath and stepped inside.

To his complete lack of surprise, Salazar was leaning over a bright purple potion. He glanced up at Godric's approach, and waved him inside.

"There is nothing more infuriating than hearing about a potion that sounds truly fascinating, but that you cannot make yourself because the necessary ingredients haven't been discovered yet."

Godric laughed. "I can see the problem." He peered at the brew and wrinkled his nose. "I see Harry has given you some ideas, though."

Salazar flashed him a mischievous grin. "One or two."

Godric gave an exaggerated groan. "I will have to speak to him. You hardly need any further encouragement."

"You are welcome to try," said Salazar dryly. "However, you will find that he is even more interested in the results than I am."

There was no mistaking the fondness in his voice, and it warmed it Godric's heart. Considering Harry's initial reaction, their progress really was remarkable.

That feeling still hadn't faded though, and Godric was unable to keep quiet.

"The two of you have become very close."

A small but genuine smile touched Salazar's lips. "We understand one another," he said simply. "He has not trusted me with all his secrets, and nor have I, but it is enough." His eyes darkened, and he looked away. "The way they treated him was appalling."

Godric didn't disagree in the slightest, but his unease was growing stronger with every word. "Things are not going to be easy for him."

Salazar stilled completely, and that was all the confirmation Godric needed. "Salazar-"

"I have not yet decided on a course of action," said Salazar curtly.

Godric's stomach lurched, but he managed to keep his voice level. "But you are planning something."

Salazar met his gaze steadily and said nothing. Godric swallowed, and walked forwards to grip his friend's shoulder. "Salazar," he said softly. "You are dearest friend. Please, tell me what is on your mind."

Salazar looked away. "I have not yet made a decision," he repeated.

Godric burned with questions, but he forced himself to stay quiet. Salazar glanced at him, and his shoulders slumped. "Harry is good," he said softly. "Very good, and Ron and Hermione have skills that complement his. They are a formidable team, and will only become stronger."

Godric scanned his face, and understood. "You don't think it will be enough." Salazar tilted his head, and the warm room suddenly felt very cold. "Salazar, what are you planning?"

Salazar met his gaze, and Godric knew with sickening certainty what he was about to say. He wanted to beg his friend to stay silent, to let things stay as they were, but the words lodged in his throat until he could barely breathe. Salazar's own eyes were shadowed with pain and indecision, but his voice was clear in the silence.

"I am considering going with them."

Chapter 22: Looking Ahead

Notes:

Sorry! However, I have started the final year of my degree (again, why did I decide I needed multiple degrees) and our placement schedule is slightly insane. Updates are going to be a bit slow, but I promise that this story will not be abandoned, if only because the sequel has been planned for about six years. Thank you again for all the reviews, favourites and alerts, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 


Ron scratched his head and leaned over to Harry.

"Is it just me," he murmured, "or is something up?"

Harry snorted. "No? Really?"

"Wait," said William. "Do you mean how Professor Gryffindor is trying to set our head of house on fire with his eyes?"

"Or that Slytherin hasn't even looked at him?"

"Or that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw both look like they want to hex them both but don't know why?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Slytherins," he muttered in disgust.

Harry smiled, but all amusement faded as he glanced up at the High Table again. "We noticed," he said quietly.

He and William had both noticed as soon as they came down in fact, and judging from the frowns on Helena and Hermione's faces, let alone the odd looks from a good chunk from the rest of the school, they weren't the only ones. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. Harry had seen the Founders argue plenty of times over the last few months, but those were always small disputes, quickly settled and forgotten. This was something very different, and not knowing what was going on, or what was going to happen, was burning a hole in his stomach.

Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw looked equally concerned. They were sitting in between their friends, and were clearly trying to bring them into a conversation. Unfortunately, they were just as clearly failing. Anwen and Kentigern were talking in low tones on Gryffindor's other side, and though Safdar's gimlet eyes were fixed on the curious students, Harry had no doubt that he was taking in every word.

"It has been a long time since I last saw them like that," Helena murmured. Her beautiful face was pinched with concern as she watched her mother. "What could have happened?"

"Well, whatever's going on, it's none of our business," said Hermione sensibly. "I'm sure it will all blow over."

For once, though, Hermione proved to be wrong.

In class, it wasn't too noticeable. Slytherin was maybe a little quieter, and Gryffindor a touch more quick-tempered, but both wizards were too professional to let whatever was going on interfere with their teaching. Outside the classroom though, it had been days since Harry had seen them exchange more than a few short words.

It wasn't just their group that had noticed. Even the new students seemed to sense that something was wrong, and the castle practically seemed to hum with unease. It reminded Harry uncomfortably of how things had been at Hogwarts under Umbridge, and he hated it. He wanted to do something to help, but both Slytherin and Gryffindor had refused to talk about it. Harry hadn't even been able to tease anything out of Slytherin during their Occlumency sessions, when his teacher was usually at his most open, and Ron had met with equal lack of success with Gryffindor.

By the time a week had passed, everyone had had enough.

"And you're sure your mother doesn't know what's going on?"

"I said she didn't," said Helena irritably. Considering it was the fourth time she'd been asked that that day, Harry forced down the urge to snap back. They were all on edge.

Fortunately, at that moment William flopped into the chair with a sigh. "Hengist knows nothing," he told them. "I would ask Edmund, but he's still sulking."

Harry rolled his eyes. Any guilt about the way he'd won the duel had evaporated as Edmund refused to accept the loss, and he was feeling even more sympathetic towards Helena. The witch in question scowled at the news, and Hermione gave Harry a very unsubtle nudge, but before he could say anything a shadow fell over them and Harry looked up into Gryffindor's grim face.

"Harry, Ron, with me."

Ron looked as startled as Harry felt, but neither dared to protest. Hermione half-rose from her seat as well, but Gryffindor shook his head. "Professor Slytherin will be teaching you."

Hermione blinked, then her eyes narrowed. She dipped her head in acknowledgement, and headed over to where Slytherin was talking with Ravenclaw. Harry frowned, both at splitting up and how Gryffindor refused to look in Slytherin's direction, but kept his mouth shut. He trusted Gryffindor with his life, and was generally at ease around him, but he wasn't as close to him as he was to Slytherin. Ron glanced at him, then set his jaw, and as they followed Gryffindor from the Hall, he coughed.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

Gryffindor's shoulders tightened, and his voice was curt. "Nothing at all." Harry and Ron exchanged a sceptical glance, and he sighed. "Nothing that you need to be concerned about," he amended. He directed a reassuring smile over his shoulder at the pair of them. "And Hermione is not in any kind of trouble. We merely decided that in this incidence she would benefit more from Salazar's tutelage.

"Right," said Harry slowly. "So what exactly are we doing?"

Gryffindor just smiled and turned back. Harry suppressed a sigh, and followed.


"You cannot mean that."

"Godric-"

"You would leave us? Travel a thousand years into the future with no guarantee of return?"

Salazar looked away. "I do not want to," he said quietly. "But they are not capable of defeating Voldemort, and I do not trust their allies."

"We can train them. They are already far stronger than they were."

"I know that they are powerful," said Salazar flatly. "But they are not yet strong enough. They are not ready for this." He shook his head. "I cannot let them go to their deaths."

Godric set his jaw. "Then we will have to do better."


Harry wasn't particularly surprised when they ended up in the Armoury. It was Gryffindor's natural habitat after all, and after all the hours they had spent there, Harry had become quite comfortable there too. He expected Gryffindor to head for the rack of bladed weapons by the wall, he and Safdar had mentioned starting them on dual wielding wand and sword, and Hermione still showed no interest in the weapons, but to his surprise, Gryffindor stopped in the middle of the room.

"You have learned a great deal in the months you have been with us," he began, without preamble. "You have studied hard, and I am very pleased with your progress."

Ron's ears blazed red, and Harry felt a warm rush of pride, but Gryffindor wasn't finished. "However, that does not mean that you cannot improve further." His green eyes locked on Harry's, and his expression darkened. "Harry, you in particular have neglected a way to considerably increase your strength."

Harry blinked. "I have?" That was news to him. He'd thought he'd taken advantage of every opportunity to learn from Gryffindor and the others, not to mention his new friends.

Gryffindor didn't explain. Instead he reached into a pocket and brought out a wand that Harry recognised immediately.

"No."

Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"The last time I used that thing I blew someone's chest apart," said Harry flatly. The overwhelming guilt had faded over the past few weeks, but the revulsion was another matter. He seriously doubted that the memory of the horrific injury he had inflicted would ever leave him. "I'm not touching it again."

Harry had expected Gryffindor to argue. He still wasn't prepared for the ferocity of the glare he received. "You can and you will."

Harry opened his mouth, but Gryffindor didn't let him interrupt. "Voldemort and his followers want you dead, boy. Would you try to capture them? You know that your prisons cannot hold them." He took a step forward, green eyes blazing. "You are going to war, Harry Potter. If you are not prepared to use any and every means at your disposal then they will destroy you, and everyone you love."

The words fell like physical blows, and Harry flinched back, head spinning. Gryffindor's eyes softened slightly, but he remained implacable.

"I know the reasons for your reluctance, and were the situation any other than what it is, I would applaud your desire to cause no further harm, but we do not have that luxury."

"But I killed that witch without even meaning to," Harry protested desperately. "I can't use something I can't control."

"Hence the need for as much practice as possible. Starting from now."

Harry bit his lip. He understood what Gryffindor was saying. The blackthorn was too overruled a weapon to ignore. That didn't stop every fibre of his body from screaming against ever touching it again.

His feelings must have shown on his face, for Gryffindor let out a frustrated growl.

"Do you think you are the only person to fight against such a thing?" he demanded. "Do you think I enjoy killing? I have cut down dozens, even hundreds, because it had to be done, and I was the only one could do it." He took a step forward, green eyes blazing. "And the others...do you think Salazar enjoys shattering a prisoner's mind?"

"Sir," Ron began, but Gryffindor cut him off.

"We do what we must, boy. We use every tool at our disposal to protect ourselves, and the ones we love." He looked Harry straight in the eye. "We pay the price for their safety. Are you willing to do the same?"

Harry could barely breathe. The atmosphere was suffocating, and Gryffindor's presence nearly overwhelming. Ron was as white as a sheet, but Harry had only had eyes for Gryffindor.

He had chosen to fight Voldemort. There was no way to avoid it, and if he wanted to win then he had to do whatever he could.

But if he took up that wand, he would end up killing again. Harry knew that as surely as he knew that Voldemort would never stop seeking his death. He still had his holly wand, a wand that would never fail him, but the past weeks had shown him that anything could happen in the heat of battle. If not for the blackthorn wand, Harry would be dead.

Next time, he might not be so lucky. Next time, it might be Ron, or Hermione, or Sirius, or Neville, or Ginny, or Luna, or the twins, or Lupin...

Harry's hands clenched into fists. He wasn't a killer. He'd never be able to destroy his enemies the way Gryffindor and Slytherin did.

But he could protect the people he loved. His own discomfort was nothing compared to that.

The wand felt different in his hand. It still hummed with power, still made him feel like he could take on an army, but it was calmer, more restrained somehow. His own mind oddly calm, Harry turned to the target, and raised the wand.

"Reducto."

Magic surged up, and it left Harry breathless. By the time he recovered enough to look, the target was nothing but dust.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered.

Slowly, Harry lowered his wand. He still felt numb, but his thoughts seemed clearer. Gryffindor rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, lad."

Harry stared at his wand. "I'm not going to try to kill people," he said. "But if they won't stop, then I will make them." He looked up into Gryffindor's eyes. "And that includes Voldemort."

Gryffindor nodded grimly, then squeezed his shoulder once more and turned to Ron. "I understand that you have been practicing with your new wand."

"Yeah, but it doesn't really affect my combat magic," said Ron, with a shrug. "It is easier to do healing spells with it, though." He grinned at Harry. "That's what I used to fix you up after that duel the other week."

Feeling slightly guilty that he hadn't noticed, Harry smiled at him. "That's great, Ron." He looked thoughtfully at his wand. "I wonder if this one works better at anything else." It would be nice if he could use it for something other than fighting.

Unfortunately, a few minutes of experimentation proved otherwise. Even the most basic charms and transfiguration spells felt like trying to do magic with a rock. It was more than a little disconcerting compared to how easily any sort of combat magic was, but Harry found himself strangely relieved. The less he had to do with the blackthorn wand, the better.

Still, the ease with which both offensive and defensive spells came was very reassuring, and Gryffindor was in a far better mood when he finally called a halt.

"Excellent," he declared. "Truly excellent. Your next battle will progress very differently." Harry managed a smile, and Gryffindor turned to Ron. "And that was one of the finest shields I have seen in some time."

Ron was slightly breathless, but he visibly straightened at the praise. "Harry taught me," he said, with a proud smile. "He's the best Defence teacher we ever had."

"Lupin was better," Harry insisted, but he could feel his cheeks heat up under Gryffindor's approving gaze. Ron just rolled his eyes, and Gryffindor cocked his head to one side.

"Have you ever considered it? Teaching?" He smiled. "You do seem to have a knack for it."

The memory of their Patronus lessons still didn't feel real. Harry just shrugged. "I never really thought about it. The only thing I ever wanted to do was be an Auror."

Gryffindor frowned. "May I ask why? It is a worthwhile career, to be sure, but it is hardly your only option."

Harry shrugged again. "I guess I've always just thought fighting Dark wizards was all I was good at." He hesitated, but he trusted Ron and Gryffindor and he wanted to get it off his chest. "And honestly, sometimes I don't know if it will ever be an issue."

By now Ron was frowning too, and at Harry's admission his jaw clenched. "Don't you dare say that." He took a step forward, blue eyes burning into Harry's. "We are going to stop Voldemort," he said flatly. "And we're going to lock up his stupid followers for the rest of their lives, and then we're going to get on with ours. You do whatever you want to do, be a teacher, play Quidditch, go and live in Hawaii, who cares, as long as you're happy." He paused to take a breath, then finished quietly, "If anyone's earned it, its you, mate."

For a long moment, Harry was struck speechless. After everyone's expectations, such a blunt contradiction was a bit of a shock. Then he smiled. "I never even considered being a Quidditch player."

"You should," said Ron seriously. "Charlie had offers from several teams when he left Hogwarts, and you're better than he ever was. Even if you only did it for a few years, I bet you'd have fun."

Playing Quidditch for a living. Even the thought was enough to make Harry smile. "I'll think about it."

Ron beamed, and Gryffindor nodded approvingly. "That sounds like an excellent idea." He glanced at Ron. "And what about you?"

Ron fidgeted under the sudden attention. "I dunno really. I used to want to be an Auror, like Harry."

"And now?" Harry asked curiously. He felt slightly guilty for not asking sooner. He'd always just assumed Ron would stick to his goal.

Ron shifted, suddenly nervous, but he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor originally for nothing. "I want to get an apprenticeship at St. Mungo's."

Harry blinked. "You want to be a Healer?"

He just about managed to keep his surprise from his voice, but Ron still straightened defensively. "I like healing," he said. "And I'm good at it. You're brilliant at Duelling, and we all know Hermione's brilliant at everything, but I'm not. I'm better than I was," he amended, when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "I can hold my own, but it's not what I'm best at." He took a deep breath, and looked Harry straight in the eye. "I want to be able to help you, and everyone else who fights with us. I'll still fight, but I know that I can do more than that."

Harry stared at him. He'd never thought about it like that, but it did make sense. Ron had certainly taken to Hufflepuff's lessons far better than he or Hermione had, and having a Healer on their side would be invaluable. He'd just never thought Ron would be the one to do it.

Then again, Ron had always cared more than most people bothered to notice. He'd watched over Harry after nightmares, and kept Hermione from driving herself to exhaustion, and kept them both grounded.

"It is an admirable goal," said Gryffindor. "Helga is a formidable ally on the battlefield, but she is known across the country for her skill in healing. We all owe her our lives multiple times over. I think you will do very well, Ron."

Ron's ears burned with delight, and he shot a slightly apprehensive look at Harry. Harry wasted no time in beaming at him. "I think it's a great idea! You'll be brilliant at it." Another thought struck him, and his grin widened. "And your mum will approve." Not even Bill and Percy had tried to get into Healing.

Ron snorted. "There is that." Then he added more quietly, "Thanks."

Gryffindor smiled, but had the tact to move the subject on. "And Hermione?"

Harry shrugged. "She wasn't very interested in being an Auror."

"She's going to change the world," said Ron. His tone was deliberately light, but his eyes were very serious. "She's got the brains, and she wants to make things better. Not just for Muggle-borns and house-elves, but for everyone."

Harry just nodded. If anyone could change the wizarding world it was Hermione Granger.

Gryffindor looked thoughtful. "She certainly has a better chance than most, especially with the two of you by her side."

"Always," Harry agreed, and Ron nodded. If they had learned anything over the years, and especially over the past few months, it was that they were stronger together.

Gryffindor smiled. "Then I think the traditionalists of your time had better beware."

Ron snorted, but as amused as Harry was, he felt his smile fading. "We've just got to survive long enough to finish Hogwarts now."

Ron's face set into a familiar mulish look, but Gryffindor's jaw tightened. "We will do our best to ensure you do." He shook himself and straightened up. "I believe that is enough of a break. I have a few more drills for you to try."

Both Harry and Ron groaned, but staggered up. The blackthorn wand hummed in Harry's hand as he listened, but even as he concentrated on the instructions, a part of him but couldn't help about the future.

Another part wondered exactly why Gryffindor looked so sad.


Very slowly Hermione lowered her wand. Next to her, Professor Slytherin was a silent, steady presence. He seemed content to let her be the one to break the silence, and Hermione took the opportunity to gather her thoughts.

It took a little longer than she had expected.

"Is it supposed to be so easy?"

"To some, yes," Slytherin replied. His voice was equally quiet. "Particularly with the correct attitude, and a complementary wand."

Hermione stared at the length of walnut in her hand. Her vine wand, her original one, felt like home, its warmth as familiar to her as breathing. The walnut wand felt cooler, almost alien, but was nonetheless equally compliant. It would perform any magic she required of it, Hufflepuff had said, and holding it, Hermione knew that that was true.

The frozen shrew in front of her was proof of that.

It wasn't a truly Dark spell. It made the victim more susceptible to suggestion, but it wasn't like the Imperius Curse. Hermione actually suspected that someone would eventually use it to create that particular Unforgivable, but not even that intriguing line of thought was enough to hold her interest.

It really had been easy.

"Do you wish to continue?"

Hermione closed her eyes. Magic had always come easily to her. This was no different.

For Harry, for Ron, for her parents, for everyone she loved, it couldn't be any different.

Hermione met Slytherin's impenetrable silver eyes, and straightened her shoulders.

"Show me another one."


"It is not your responsibility to stop him."

"He calls himself the Heir of Slytherin. Even if he is not a direct descendent, he still carries my blood."

"And many more probably carry mine," Godric exploded. "Yet you do not see me attempting to abandon everything I have."

"I doubt yours are hate-fuelled mass-murderers! He has split his soul, Godric! How, by all the gods, can they be expected to manage that?"


Not for the first time, Helga blessed the thoughtfulness of house-elves. A meeting concerning some of the most evil magic in the world would be difficult to bear at any time, but when two of her dearest friends were at each other's throats...

Wine might not make everything better, but it certainly couldn't hurt.

Rowena looked as exhausted as Helga felt, and Godric and Salazar, sitting as far from one another as they could manage and steadily refusing to look at each other, were not helping. Helga sighed, took a fortifying sip of her drink, and set her goblet down with a little more force than she had intended.

"We are here to discuss any possible methods to remove a Horcrux from a student of ours," she said. "I trust we can behave long enough to manage that?"

Godric flushed and straightened in his seat. Next to her, Salazar's eyes narrowed, but he jerked his head. Helga eyed them both for a minute, then nodded. "Excellent. Now, Myrddin?"

For once, Myrddin was not slouching, and his attention was actually on the topic at hand. Even more unusually, his expression was completely serious as he looked around the table. "Whoever created the Patronus Charm was a genius. It would have been impossible to stay around the Dementors long enough to study them without it."

Godric leaned forward. "So you found something?"

"I think so." He was uncharacteristically hesitant, twirling his wand between his fingers, and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "This is mainly speculation, you understand?"

"That is the way all magic begins," Rowena pointed out gently. "Tell us your thoughts, and we will see what conclusions we can draw."

Myrddin flashed her a bright smile. "Of course, my Lady." His grin widened at her eye roll, but he continued quickly, "I observed the effects of the Dementor's Kiss on a pair of thoroughly deserving individuals," Helga winced at that, but Salazar glanced at his pupil and nodded, "and I was able to gain some understanding of how it works. There is no doubt that it would be able to extract the Horcrux from Harry's scar."

"And what of Harry's soul?" Godric demanded.

Myrddin pulled a face. "That wasn't exactly something I could test, Godric. Most people only have the one soul." He scratched his head. "I would theorise that the fragment would be torn free first. It was never meant to be there, after all."

Rowena rubbed her eyes. "Theories aren't good enough for this. Salazar, is there any way we could be make certain?"

Salazar glanced at Myrddin, and nodded. "We will examine it further, but I think Myrddin's theory has merit."

"Of course you do," Godric muttered.

Salazar scowled at him, and Helga moved swiftly to intercept the argument. "And once we extract the Horcrux, that is the end of it? I assume it cannot survive outside of a host."

Salazar pursed his lips. "That is one theory. However, Voldemort was able to survive as a spirit for nearly a decade. It is not impossible to imagine the fragment doing the same."

Rowena sat up straighter, her brow furrowed. "Would a fragment have that much power? It was created as an accident after all."

Salazar spread his hands. "I do not know," he said honestly. "Such a situation has never been seen before. No-one has ever been foolish enough to make more than one Horcrux, and certainly there has never been any attempt to remove one as we are attempting to do. Maybe things are better understood in Harry's time, but I do not have the benefit of a thousand years of knowledge, and there is simply no way to know what might happen."

For a long moment there was silence, then Helga spoke up, "We do know that Harry destroyed a Horcrux when it was sealed as a diary. That implies that sealing it into something and then destroying it would be sufficient."

"But would it be necessary?" Rowena asked. "I highly doubt the fragment could survive outside of Harry anyway."

"Maybe it could, and maybe it couldn't," said Myrddin. "But consider this: do you really want to take the risk of having a bit of Voldemort's soul haunting Hogwarts for a thousand years?"

That thought was enough to settle the matter. Perhaps it was an unnecessary complication, but none of them were willing to take the chance. Rowena gave Godric a rueful look.

"At least you have always had a talent for fire magic."

Godric snorted. "Fiendfyre is a little different. I have worked with it in the past, but it will be some time before I have the control to destroy just the Horcrux, and not half the castle."

"How much time?" Salazar asked. His tone was civil, if a little cold, but Godric still glared at him.

"As much time as necessary," he growled. "I assume you do not want me to take risks with Fiendfyre of all things?"

Salazar's eyes narrowed to silver slits. "Do not be absurd."

"Then leave me to what I do best."

Helga exchanged a dismayed look with Rowena as Salazar's scowl intensified. "Do I have to remind you that there is a piece of an evil madman's soul attached to a young boy?"

"It has been there for fifteen years," Godric shot back. "A few more weeks will do far less harm than messing around with Fiendfyre will."

"All right, that is enough!"

Godric and Salazar both started, and Helga would have found their expressions comical in any other circumstances. As it was, she only glared at the pair of them. "What is the matter with the two of you?"

Salazar's jaw tightened, and he looked away without speaking. Godric looked at him for a long moment, then closed his eyes and visibly pulled himself under control. "A private disagreement. I apologise."

"As do I," Salazar murmured.

Helga rubbed her eyes, and Rowena sighed. "See that it is settled," she said. "Even the students have noticed."

Helga nodded agreement. One would have to have been blind to have missed the stares they had been attracting for the past few days. Godric jerked his acknowledgement, then rose to his feet. "Excuse me. I am due to meet Ron for Occlumency."

He bowed slightly to Helga and Rowena, and left the room without even looking at Salazar. Salazar glared after him, but before Helga could say anything, he too made his excuses and disappeared without another word.

It was Myrddin who broke the ensuing silence.

"This cannot continue."

"Thank you ever so much for that assessment," Rowena snapped, but Helga rested a hand on her friend's arm. Myrddin's hazel eyes were troubled, and there was something about the expression on his face that made her stomach clench. Myrddin glanced at her for a moment, then looked away.

"Hogwarts cannot stand if the four of you are not united," he said quietly. "I believe our young guests from the future would agree."

The blood drained from Rowena's face. Helga felt bile rise in her throat. "This...this is how it begins?"

Myrrdin just gave a helpless shrug. Helga turned to Rowena, and saw her own horror mirrored in her friend's eyes.

"I do not know," Rowena whispered. "I cannot...I do not know."

Helga stared at her friend, and could only wonder what would become of them.


"They need me."

"We need you! And you need us."

Salazar looked away. "I know. Gods, I know. But Harry needs help, and he isn't getting it from those he trusts in his own time. It should not be his responsibility to stop this man."

"So you would go with him. This boy you have known for bare months." His voice was suddenly very quiet. "You would leave us. Me, Rowena, Helga."

"Godric-"

His words fell on empty ears. The door slammed shut, leaving Salazar alone.


Godric was aware of every eye on him as he made his way through the corridors. Under normal circumstances he would have been greeting his students, or even pausing to strike up conversations and answer questions, but for once he found himself being given a wide berth. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and only added to his foul mood.

Part of him felt guilty for that. He knew he was worrying Helga and Rowena, let alone the rest of the staff and students. The rest of him was too overwhelmed with anger and confusion to care.

He had had a week to think on Salazar's revelation. Salazar had had the sense to give him some time to come to terms with the idea, but at the same time, the distance had only fuelled Godric's sense of betrayal.

And it was a betrayal. Despite all his best efforts, Godric could not think of it as anything else. The very idea of it, that Salazar would abandon them and everything they had built, was enough to make his blood burn. He could understand Salazar's hatred of the creature that had ruined his name and legacy, and he certainly hated the horrific situation that Harry and his friends had been forced into, but he simply couldn't accept either fact as a good enough reason for leaving.

Godric's hands clenched into fists. The time-travellers had been with them for mere months, and Salazar was already prepared to leave everything and everyone behind. It could not be borne.

"Professor?"

Godric's wand was drawn before he even knew what was happening, and Ron stumbled back, his face draining of colour. Guilt immediately twisted in Godric's stomach. Angry as he was with Salazar, the children were not to blame.

"Apologies, lad," he murmured, as he replaced his wand. He wrenched his emotions back under his control and managed a thin smile. "How was Duelling?"

"It...it was good," said Ron. "Harry flattened everyone."

He still wasn't meeting Godric's eyes, and Godric cursed himself for his bad temper. He unlocked the door, and waved for the younger wizard to precede him in.

"I am glad to hear it. Which wand did he use?"

"Both," said Ron quickly. "He wants to make sure he can adjust to using either one quickly."

Godric nodded. "Good." He waved a hand, and a blazing fire sprang up in the grate. The heat and energy eased some of his turmoil, and Godric felt some of the tension leave his muscles as he sank into the armchair. Ron perched opposite him somewhat hesitantly, and Godric sighed.

"I am not going to hex you, Ron."

Ron started, then gave a slightly sheepish smile. "I know." Then the smile faded, and he finally met Godric's gaze. "You looked like you wanted to hex someone though.

Godric just about bit back the urge to say that some people deserved hexing, and inclined his head. "I was. And no, I do not feel inclined to discuss it," he added, when Ron opened his mouth.

The time-traveller eyed him, but Godric held his gaze until he gave a reluctant nod. "Fine," he muttered. "But can we at least talk about this morning?"

Godric frowned. "This morning?" He cast his mind back, but as far as he knew, both Harry and Ron had left the session in fairly good spirits. "What of it?"

Ron visibly steeled himself, but he met Godric's gaze without flinching. "You didn't have to say all that stuff to Harry."

For the first time in days, Godric forgot his anger with Salazar. Instead, he just stared at Ron. "Excuse me?"

Ron flushed. "All that about having to fight Death Eaters. About having to...having to kill them."

"What of it?" Godric asked, honestly bemused now. "They will be trying to kill you. Stunning and Disarming Spells will only take you so far."

"That's not the point," Ron burst out. "We're trying to convince Harry's that he's got something to live for, not that he's got to be a bloody soldier for the rest of his life!"

Ah. Godric's irritation faded, and he rubbed his hand over his face. "Ron, that is precisely why I am trying to encourage you to fight. This war cannot continue."

"He shouldn't have to fight at all," Ron growled. He sprang to his feet, and started pacing. "It's not Harry's fault! He didn't ask for a lunatic to kill his family! Why is he the one who has to stop them all?" He came to a stop in front of the fire, his chest heaving. "Why is it always him?"

Godric's stomach twisted uncomfortably. He had heard that sentiment before. The same words even. "He has no choice," he said quietly. "Voldemort will never let him live in peace. And Harry will never stand by and watch the man who murdered his parents go free."

"I know, but that doesn't make it right!"

The words echoed in Godric's mind, and before he quite knew what was happening he was on his feet. Ron twitched, but this time he stood his ground.

"It isn't right," he repeated.

Godric looked at him, and realised with some surprise that Ron didn't need to look up to meet his gaze any more. The boy had grown in the past few months. They all had. He rubbed a hand over his beard, and looked away.

"No," he said. "It isn't. But until Voldemort is dead, I do not see any other way it can be."

Ron's shoulders slumped, and he gave a bitter smile. "Me neither." He sank back into the chair, and rested his head in his hands. "I just want Harry to have a future," he mumbled. "If anyone deserves it, he does."

Godric felt another rush of nausea. Harry's admission that he sometimes didn't see the point in thinking about the future had shaken him more than he liked to admit. Every student Godric had taught had had their own dreams and aspirations.

Harry just wanted to survive, and see justice for his parents' murder.

The heat of the fire intensified, and Godric let it blaze up even higher for a second before clamping down on it. The exercise steadied him enough to return to his own seat, and meet Ron's curious gaze.

"We will do everything we can to see that you survive this war," he said softly. "All of you."

Ron's blue eyes searched his for a long moment, then he managed a weak smile. "Thanks."

Godric smiled back, but anger and guilt left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The Occlumency session continued as planned, but, try as he might, Godric's heart wasn't in it. Ron was considerate enough not to say anything when Godric dismissed him early, merely shooting Godric a concerned look over his should before disappearing to find his friends. Once he was gone, Godric paused just long enough to extinguish the fire, before leaving himself.

He had put this off for far too long already.

All expression vanished from Salazar's face when he saw Godric in the doorway of his study. He said nothing, merely waved for him to take a seat by the fire. Godric did so, and watched Salazar remove several cauldrons from the heat with a sense of strange detachment. He still hated everything that had passed between them, but his conversations with Ron and Harry had cooled his temper, and he was ready to talk.

When Salazar finally sat opposite him though, Godric found himself with no idea what to say.

Salazar was content to sit in silence. That was always the way things went between them. Salazar would sit and watch and wait, until Godric could bear it no longer, then they would argue and fight and reconcile and make peace, just as they had a thousand times before.

This time, Godric had no words, and it was Salazar who broke the silence.

"I do not wish to leave."

"Then why suggest it?" Godric asked quietly. He didn't try to keep the bitterness from his voice, and was almost pleased when Salazar looked away.

"Harry needs help. Help that he is not receiving from his allies."

"That does not mean he must get it from us." It sounded harsh, and it was harsh, but it had to be said.

Salazar's eyes flashed. "He is a student of Hogwarts, He is under our protection-"

"And what of the rest of our students?" Godric demanded. "Would you so easily abandon your responsibilities to them?"

The flames flickered in the grate, and he checked himself, but Salazar barely seemed to notice.

"Do you think any of this is easy, Godric?" His hands clenched on the arms of the chair, and he didn't give Godric a chance to speak. "This is my home. You are my family. I have fought and bled and killed for this life, and I would die to protect it. I do not want to go!"

He fell silent, chest heaving. Godric wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stay, to make him swear never to leave them, but he held his tongue. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he waited and after a moment Salazar continued,

"A monster walks the land, spreading hatred and terror, torturing and murdering at will, and he does it in my name," he said, and despite the blazing fire, the temperature seemed to fall. "He names himself my heir, and my house is associated with ideals that I despise."

Godric closed his eyes. "The children promised to tell the truth. His lies will be known for what they are."

Salazar's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "If any believe them. Even if you were to provide written verification of their words, it would be too little, too late." He shook his head. "Besides, it is not their responsibility to clear my name."

"It should not be yours either," Godric protested. He pushed himself to his feet, unable to sit still any longer. "Men are not supposed to know how history will judge them a thousand years in the future!"

"And yet we do," said Salazar sharply. He stared down at his clenched fists, and for a brief moment his mask slipped. "And I cannot bear it."

Godric said nothing. There was nothing to say. If it had been his name and legacy that had been so sullied...but it was not, and Salazar still could not leave.

One of the potions crackled, and Salazar flicked his wand at it without looking before speaking again.

"And then there is Voldemort."

Godric gritted his teeth. "I am aware that Harry cannot defeat Voldemort by himself," he ground out. "As is he, and he will not be so foolish as to try. He will fight with his wits, and with his friends-"

"Assuming he gets the chance to," Salazar interrupted. "Dark lords are rarely so accommodating." He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were hard as steel. "And even if he can, how many of them will survive such a confrontation?"

Ice filled Godric's stomach, but Salazar kept talking, "How many will Voldemort cut down as he tries to reach Harry? How many of his friends? Will he target Ron and Hermione? They will certainly be by his side. How many innocents will he threaten to draw them out? How many will it take?"

Godric tasted blood in his mouth. He knew the answers to those questions as well as Salazar did. One of the potions released a glittering cloud of purple into the air, and he watched it dissipate before trusting himself to speak.

"He has the Order of the Phoenix. He has Dumbledore."

Salazar snorted. "And much good have they done him so far. No, Godric, they have lied to him and denied him crucial information in the pursuit of keeping him 'safe'," he fairly spat the word, and Godric could feel his magic crackling from across the room, "and have left him to fight people and creatures that would give us pause."

Godric remembered the Basilisk and a hundred Dementors, and couldn't argue. Salazar shook his head. "Harry does not believe Dumbledore intends him harm, but intentions do not matter when harm has already been done. I know that he has plans for the boy, and I would not trust him for an instant."

Godric nodded. He hadn't been particularly impressed by some of the Headmaster's actions either. "Harry does have other adults who care for him," he felt obliged to point out.

"All of whom trust Dumbledore completely," Salazar shot back. "From what Harry tells me, the only one who even attempts to question him is his godfather. That is not a good sign when trying to fight a war against a madman."

Godric bit back a half-hearted protest. As much as he hated to admit it, he agreed with Salazar's assessment of Harry's allies. One man, no matter how great a leader they were, should not have such absolute control, and they should have been doing more, at least with Harry. The boy was young, but after everything he had been through, he deserved the chance to decide the course of his own life.

Salazar of all people could appreciate that.

Godric ran his hands through his hair and tried to think. Salazar had his reasons, and while Godric still couldn't accept them, he could certainly understand them, and then there was Harry to consider. The boy didn't trust easily, and yet within the space of a few months he and Salazar had become close as family.

But Salazar had a family. He couldn't leave. The very thought of it made Godric's stomach churn, and it took all his considerable self-control to keep himself from accidentally feeding the fire. It had been years since he had last been this distressed. Not since the last time Salazar had been taken from them in fact.

The truth dawned with a clarity that left Godric shaking.

He wasn't angry with Salazar. He was terrified.

"Godric?"

Godric didn't reply. He was vaguely aware of concern in Salazar's voice, but his heart was pounding hard enough to hurt mad if was all he could do to keep his breathing steady.

A hand came to rest tentatively on his shoulder.

"What is wrong?"

For a moment Godric didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "What do you think?"

Salazar drew back as if stung, and Godric raised a hand. "I am sorry."

Salazar eyed him rather warily. "Godric..." He fell silent, grip tightening on his staff.

Godric sighed. "If you leave, we will never see you again."

Part of him wanted Salazar to argue, to say that he might still be able to find a way back, but Salazar had never been one to give him, at least, empty promises. "I know."

He sounded like saying the words physically hurt him. Godric hoped so. It hurt to hear them. "Do not go."

"I do not want to," Salazar whispered. "And yet...I do not know what to do."

Godric stared at him, at the dark shadows under his eyes and the way his robes hung off his already thin frame, and believed him. He took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders. "We still have time," he said quietly. "Rowena is not yet finished. You…this is not something to be decided quickly."

The relief in Salazar's eyes was painful to see. "Indeed. We have time." He paused, expression hardening. "And I will not leave until I know that the school is safe. I will not leave while he is alive."

Godric managed a smile for what felt like the first time in days. "I never doubted that."

A very faint smile touched Salazar's face, but it didn't reach his eyes, and Godric sighed. "The others cannot know."

"I agree," said Salazar. His eyes turned distant, and he looked away. "We must concentrate on what we can do."

Godric nodded. They could make sure their students were kept safe. They could ensure that they all had the knowledge and skills they needed to survive, time-travellers or not. They could try to give them a reason to keep fighting.

And when the fighting was done, when Hogwarts and the students were safe, then there would be decisions to make.

Notes:

I recognise that Salazar and Godric have rather unflattering opinions of Dumbledore and the Order, but they are going off what they have heard from Harry and the others, who haven't been too pleased with their decisions themselves this year. Everyone will get a chance to explain themselves in the future.

As usual, any feedback is greatly appreciated.

Chapter 23: The Best Laid Plans

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was a bitterly cold morning when Salazar left Hogwarts. Snow had fallen during the night, painting the castle and grounds in white, but Salazar was in no mood to appreciate the view. Life at Hogwarts had become somewhat difficult over the past few weeks.

It wasn't entirely Godric's fault. His friend hadn't mentioned the possibility of him leaving since their last discussion on the subject. Things were as close to normal as they ever were, but Salazar could feel Godric's eyes on him whenever he thought Salazar wasn't paying attention. It might have been frustrating, if his concern wasn't so understandable.

Helga and Rowena were also watching, though at least they were watching Godric as well. Neither of them had pressed for an explanation after seeing that they had reconciled, but only a fool could have missed their concern and curiosity.

Salazar shook his head. After all the complications with his best friends, a relatively friendly chat with a not-quite reformed Dark wizard would be quite a pleasant change.

"I still do not understand why you need an escort."

Although even that had required additional precautions. Salazar bit back the first reply that came to mind, and instead raised an eyebrow. "Other than the fact that a large number of very dangerous people want us all dead?"

"Something which is hardly unusual, and has never concerned you to this extent in the past," Edmund shot back. He tugged his cloak more securely around himself with a shiver. "Besides, normally Professor Gryffindor would accompany you."

"Dark wizards tend to be rather wary of being within ten leagues of Godric, let alone the same room," said Salazar dryly. "And this one has information that I need."

Edmund gave him a look that said quite clearly he knew there was more to it than that, but he let the matter drop, much to Salazar's relief. Asking Rowena or Helga would have been almost as bad an idea as bringing Godric, but with the Order a constant threat, making this particular visit alone would have been foolish. Edmund, though, was pragmatic enough to accept the company Salazar kept without question.

Which made his refusal to accept far more agreeable company rather absurd.

Salazar had also needed a chance to speak to the Baron alone. His behaviour had been a concern for some time, but ever since his duel with Harry he had been even more erratic than usual. Rowena hadn't quite reached the point of barring him from Helena's presence, but she was coming close and none of them wanted the situation to deteriorate to that extent. Edmund had been a good student, and a good friend to them all, and Salazar welcomed the chance to speak to him, once their business was complete.

At least, that had been the plan. Seeing the expression on Edmund's face at the sight of the snowball fight that had sprawled across the grounds in front of them, Salazar acknowledged that there might have to be a slight alteration.

Naturally, Harry was the first to notice them, and he paused in the act of hurling a snowball at Castor to wave.

"Morning, Profess – Gah!"

"Foul play!" William howled, as Harry spat out snow.

"Not according to the rules!" Ron yelled back, sticking his head over a rough barricade. "'Either side may take advantage of anything that might happen at any time', remember?"

Helena planted her hands on her hips and glared at her teammates. "I told you we shouldn't have insisted on that going in!"

Salazar had to laugh, and not even the sound of Edmund's teeth grinding could stop him. "It was a fair play," he agreed. Ron and the twins beamed, and Harry and William sent him pleading looks, and he shook his head. "But please, do not let us interrupt."

He ignored the good-natured grumbling and gloating, and was pleased when he didn't have to block any snowballs while they made their way through the danger zone. Not that he thought any student would dare target him, but Harry and Helena were both scowling at Edmund, and Salazar was quite relieved when William dragged the two of them back to the rest of their team for a quick conference. Edmund wasn't blind to the hostility; he said nothing, but his hand was twitching in the direction of his wand, and his face was like stone. His expression only darkened as the sounds of battle started up again, and Salazar suppressed a sigh.

"Little good comes of holding grudges," he murmured. "For anyone."

Edmund's head snapped up, his mouth opening, but at Salazar's raised eyebrow he visibly checked himself. After a moment he blew out a sharp breath. "She approves of him."

It was impossible to miss the bitterness in his voice. Salazar came to a halt, and fixed his former student with the look that still made him take a step back. "That is her prerogative," he said. "You have always known that it would be her choice."

"The wrong choice," Edmund spat. "What can he offer her that I cannot? I have lands, money, power, skill…"

Salazar swallowed the urge to add the word 'humility' to the list, and held up a hand. "But she does not love you. At this point, I doubt she ever will." Edmund jerked back, eyes flashing, but Salazar didn't relent. This had gone on for far too long. "Enough, Edmund. You have made your feelings clear, and so has she. She is not for you."

Edmund's hands had clenched into fists, and his face was very pale but for twin spots of colour that burned in his cheeks. Salazar sighed. "Enough," he repeated. "You will find a bride, one that is worthy of you, but it will not be Helena."

"But I love her!"

Salazar once again bit back his first response, and rubbed at his eyes. "And I sympathise, but she does not love you."

Gods, what more would it take? Edmund was shaking with barely suppressed emotion, and Salazar silently berated himself for not taking this step sooner. He had hoped that it would not come to this, but he should have known better. He took a step forward and rested a hand on Edmund's shoulder. "Let her go, Edmund," he said gently. "Neither of you deserve this."

Edmund was silent for a second, then wrenched his arm away and straightened. "We should go. Your friend is expecting us."

Salazar eyed him, but all traces of anger were gone, hidden behind a well-practiced mask. A distant bang, followed by laughter, echoed behind them, and finally Salazar nodded. "Indeed."

They walked the rest of the way to the gate in silence. Salazar felt the wards brush over him in a familiar caress as he stepped off the grounds, and waited just long enough to confirm that all was well before turning to his companion.

"Remember, he may be my friend, but he is not to be trusted. He will try to aggravate you. Say as little as possible, and stay alert."

Edmund jerked his head in acknowledgement, but didn't speak. Salazar raised his eyes to the sky and wished for patience. Even as a student, Edmund had had the irritating habit of sulking when things did not go exactly the way he wanted. They had hoped he would grow out of it.

"This is no time to be distracted," he said sharply. "Or must I go by myself?"

Edmund twitched, and straightened. "No, sir. My apologies." He took a deep breath. "And…I will think on what you have said."

"Good." The Baron still looked disgruntled, and Salazar anticipated a long conversation with Rowena and Helena when they returned to Hogwarts, but they had other things to worry about for the moment. He gripped the younger man's shoulder, concentrated on his destination, and the two of them disappeared with a faint pop.

As usual, Salazar arrived a short distance away from Zalasta's cottage. He shot a final warning look at Edmund, but all traces of his former student's temper were hidden again, and he met Salazar's gaze steadily. Salazar nodded, and led the way through the trees. He saw Edmund tense as they crossed the ward boundaries, and automatically reached out to assess them himself. He wasn't too surprised to find that they had been enhanced since his last visit. Under the circumstances, only a fool would take chances with their home, and Zalasta was no fool.

Zalasta was tending to his herb garden when the cottage finally came in sight. His back was to them, but Salazar wasn't at all surprised when he called a greeting.

"Don't you have students to teach?"

"Not today," Salazar called. He walked forward until he could feel the Warming Charms Zalasta had layered around his garden, and leaned on his staff. "You know there are more efficient ways of doing that."

Zalasta shot him a smirk. "Ah, but this way is more satisfying." He rose to his feet, banishing dirt from his robe with a careless wave of his hand, and raised an eyebrow at Edmund. "And who might this be?"

"My name is Edmund," the Baron said, before Salazar could open his mouth. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

At least he'd remembered some of Salazar's warnings. Zalasta looked at him, then at Salazar. "Do they all come out this polite?"

"Most people consider it a virtue," said Salazar dryly.

Zalasta grunted, and turned another appraising look on Edmund. "You'd be better off teaching them how to poison people without getting caught."

Edmund's eyes widened to an almost comical degree, and Salazar raised an eyebrow. "I believe we agreed against emulating our master in any way."

"One of our better decisions, considering," Zalasta agreed cheerfully.

"Considering what?" Edmund asked, then immediately snapped his mouth shut when Salazar frowned at him.

Zalasta's smirk just widened. "Well, we were his last students."

Edmund blinked, then he abruptly jerked round to stare at Salazar, his face draining of colour. Zalasta clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the house. "So, you both hungry?"

Salazar rolled his eyes and followed. Zalasta would never change. A moment later he heard Edmund follow them, and suppressed a sigh. Maybe he should have given the younger man a few more warnings.

Zalasta had cleared two more chairs of clutter by the time Salazar stepped inside. Salazar sank into one gratefully, propping his staff against the arm of the chair, but Edmund remained standing at his shoulder. Zalasta's dark eyes were gleaming with barely-suppressed glee, but he sobered when Salazar shot him a scathing look.

"You never let me have any fun," he muttered.

Salazar felt a headache coming on. "I believe you said you might have something useful."

"So I did." He tossed a handful of herbs into a cauldron that Salazar had no intention of going anywhere near, and retrieved a pair of scrolls from the top of a teetering pile. "The most thorough guide I could put together on how to actually make one."

Edmund shifted, and Salazar could almost feel the curiosity radiating from him, but he had the sense to keep his mouth shut. Salazar shrunk the scrolls with a thought and placed them in an inside pocket. "Thank you. And the other matter?"

Zalasta pulled a face. "I still say it's impossible. Just kill them and be done with it."

"I will keep that in mind."

"You asked my opinion, and there it is." He flicked his wand at the cauldron, causing it to emit a thick cloud of orange smoke, and leaned back against the wall. "I would have thought you would put this on hold while your precious charges are in the castle."

"They are safe enough," said Salazar evenly. He sniffed, and shook his head. "Mandrake root."

Zalasta glanced at the potion, then grunted and grabbed the root down from a hook. "I never did understand how you do that. And your friends are fine with this?"

"They understand. Chop it finer."

"I have done this before, you know." He added the sliced root into the potion, and Salazar nodded as the smell sharpened. Zalasta rolled his eyes, then glanced at Edmund. "You're in a bad mood, aren't you?"

Salazar stiffened, but not nearly as obviously as Edmund did. At least the Baron took a moment before replying. "I do not see how that is any of your concern."

Zalasta peered at him, then grinned. "It's a witch, isn't it?"

"Zalasta-"

"And you are far more interested in her than she is in you." He cocked his head to one side. "But there is someone she approves of."

Edmund's face flushed. "Everyone seems to approve of Harry," he muttered, and the look he shot at Salazar held clear resentment. It cleared a moment later, probably due to the glare Salazar was giving him, but Zalasta leaned back with a contented hum.

"Interesting."

This had been a very bad idea. Salazar forced down the urge to hex the pair of them, and rose to his feet. "If you don't start concentrating, that will be ruined," he said, with a nod at the cauldron. "So Edmund and I will leave you in peace."

"No fun at all," Zalasta muttered, but he moved to hold the door open for them. "You will come and visit soon, won't you?"

"We'll see. As you have pointed out, I do have students to teach."

"Bring them too. I'm sure they'd learn something."

Edmund's face would have been amusing in any other circumstances. As it was, Salazar just raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure they would."

Zalasta snorted, then his expression suddenly turned serious. "He's still aiming for you, you know."

Salazar's grip tightened on his staff. "I am aware."

"Good. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"Thank you." He paused as a familiar crackle met his ears, and nodded back into the hut. "You have six seconds before that is ruined."

Zalasta swore and darted back inside. The door slammed shut behind him. Salazar shook his head, and started for the Apparation point. Edmund caught up a moment later, but when he opened his mouth, Salazar shook his head.

"Not here," he murmured.

Edmund snapped his mouth shut immediately. Still too late, of course, and Salazar clamped down on his anger before it could give away anything else. He Disapparated the moment he cleared the wards, and took the minute it took Edmund to join him to collect himself.

So when the Baron did join him at the gates of Hogwarts, Salazar was able to fix him with a flat glare and say nothing.

To his credit, Edmund met that look steadily.

"I apologise. I forgot myself."

"Yes, you did."

Edmund shifted. "I told him nothing he could not have learned just by observing everyone," he muttered.

"He does not get the chance to observe anyone, and that is beside the point. What part of 'tell the very dangerous Dark wizard nothing' was unclear to you?"

Edmund looked down, pale cheeks flushing, and Salazar shook his head. "This is why you must let your resentment go. If nothing else, it interferes with your Occlumency."

Edmund jerked back. "What? But that's impossible, I would have felt him-"

"Clearly you didn't," Salazar snapped. "Or did you think he was merely good at guessing? Oh yes, the first one was probably was," he said, when Edmund opened his mouth, "and after that you played right into his hands."

Edmund's hands clenched into fists. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and shook his head. Salazar rubbed wearily at his eyes and wished for a Pain-Relieving Potion.

"There isn't much he can do with the information," Edmund finally mumbled. "And he is your friend."

Salazar sighed. "A friend who I do not trust. There is a reason I have never divulged any information about Hogwarts, or our students." Especially not the ones he was particularly interested in, and considering just how important Harry and his friends were…

But there was nothing to be done now. If only those Memory Charms Harry had mentioned had been invented yet… Unfortunately, Salazar had no intention of experimenting on Zalasta of all people, and so he just drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"But you may be correct. Either way, there is nothing we can do about it." He fixed Edmund with a look, and was gratified to see his former student pale. "I trust you will remember this for the future."

Edmund nodded vigorously, and Salazar suppressed another sigh. That had not gone according to plan.


"Your dedication is commendable, my dear, but are you sure you would not rather be with your friends?"

Hermione settled herself more comfortably in the chair, and smiled at her mentor. "Snowball fights were never my favourite activity," she said. "And Professor Slytherin said he would only teach me Legilimency when my Occlumency skills were better."

Hufflepuff only nodded at that. "As it should be. It is not a talent to be developed lightly." She looked at Hermione, and gave a slight smile. "Not that you have ever been one to make such decisions lightly."

Hermione shook her head. She had talked to both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw about her studies with Slytherin, and although neither of them had been particularly happy, they hadn't tried to talk her out of it. They understood the necessity.

Hopefully Harry and Ron would too. Hermione was not looking forward to that conversation.

A gentle hand covered hers, and Hermione looked up to find Hufflepuff watching her, her blue eyes dark with concern.

"There is no shame in wishing to protect your friends, Hermione. Nor in desiring to spare them the decisions you make yourself."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. She had made her choice, and he didn't regret it, but the support was very welcome indeed. Hufflepuff nodded to her, and sat back.

"Now, shall we begin?"

Half an hour later, Hermione's head was aching, but not nearly as much as it had when they first started these lessons, and Hufflepuff was beaming.

"Excellent work, my dear. You have an exceptionally organised mind."

"Thank you," Hermione managed. She drained the glass of water the house-elves had brought, and Hufflepuff refilled it without another word. "It's still tiring."

Hufflepuff raised an eyebrow. "Did you not find even simple charms tiring during your first year?" When Hermione acknowledged the point, she smiled. "It will become easier with practice. I hardly notice the effort now." She studied Hermione for a long moment, then nodded. "I do not believe Salazar will insist on waiting much longer."

Hermione smiled back. "Good." Legilimency was too useful a skill for them to ignore. They would need every advantage they could get. "Can we try once more?"

Hufflepuff just looked at her, and Hermione sighed. "It was worth a try."

"Indeed," said Hufflepuff dryly. "No wonder Salazar speaks so highly of your attitude."

Hermione brightened at the compliment, and not for the first time marvelled at the fact that she considered being compared to Slytherin to be a compliment. Hufflepuff tapped a finger thoughtfully against her chin.

"Actually, Salazar will have to be involved in your training soon anyway." Hermione shot her a questioning look, and she smiled. "My skill at Legilimency is passable at best, and Godric's is not much better. Salazar is the one who will be able to develop your skills further, and I suspect Ron will soon be in the same situation."

"I see," said Hermione slowly. She wasn't particularly worried about Slytherin seeing her memories; he had done it before, and now that they had gotten to know him it would be even easier, but she would miss the time she spent with Hufflepuff. After spending so much time with Ron and Harry, the peaceful evenings with the motherly witch had been a welcome change.

Hufflepuff caught her eye, and her eyes softened. "I never require students to have a purpose for visiting, dear."

Hermione blushed, but couldn't help smiling back. Hufflepuff's eyes twinkled. "And you would certainly not be the first student to do so."

"Thank you," said Hermione quietly.

"Oh, no need for that. Now, why don't you tell me how the rest of your studies are going?"

That was a topic that Hermione was more than happy to move on to. Unlike Harry and Ron, Hufflepuff was always willing to listen to her thoughts on all the new things they were learning, and she was far better at giving advice. It reminded Hermione of talking things over with her parents, back when she was still in primary school.

"…And Professor Slytherin says he might start introducing us to Warding soon."

"That is excellent news," said Hufflepuff, with a nod. "William will be delighted."

Hermione smiled. Harry's housemate was nearly as enthusiastic about Runes as she was, and they had had a number of discussions on the subject, much to Slytherin's approval. Harry had joined the beginner's class while Ron elected for further Healing lessons, so having someone she knew in her group had been very welcome. She hadn't been particularly surprised to find Helena and a couple of her other housemates were far ahead of her. The girl had inherited more than her mother's looks.

She was about to comment on her friend's enthusiasm, when Hufflepuff suddenly raised a hand. Her head cocked to the side, as though she was listening to something, as Hermione found her hand drifting towards her wand. They had all picked up a bit of paranoia over the last few months.

"I think we are going to have company," Hufflepuff murmured. Her eyes held more amusement than anything else though, so Hermione let herself relax.

Of course, a second later she jumped as the door was flung open hard enough to bounce off against the wall. Hermione's wand was in her hand before she was even aware of it, but all thought of casting any sort of magic fled at the pure fury on Ravenclaw's face.

"I am going to kill him!"

Hermione stared. It was hardly unusual to see Ravenclaw irritated, the witch was rather more prickly than her friend, but this sort of display was something else. Hufflepuff raised an eyebrow, and set aside her goblet with a sigh.

"You cannot kill him," she said in the tone of someone who had this conversation far too many times. "Murder makes such a mess."

"I could transfigure him into a rat and feed him to Issa."

"That would give Issa a stomach-ache," said Hufflepuff easily, as she poured another goblet of wine.

Ravenclaw scowled, and took a seat with less than her usual poise. "I could hold the transfiguration long enough for the digestive process to take place."

Hermione couldn't help but imagine it, and felt the blood drain from her face. Hufflepuff coughed, and Ravenclaw glanced at her. Her cheeks flushed slightly. "My apologies. I did not realise you had company."

"We were seeing if Hermione was ready to move on to Salazar's tutelage." She smiled at Hermione. "I am pleased to say that she is more than capable."

Ravenclaw's glower lightened somewhat, and she nodded. "That is excellent news, Hermione. Though I hope you will not take his teachings to heart as some do," she added, in an undertone.

"That is hardly fair," said Hufflepuff reproachfully. "Myrddin was already…eccentric when he came to us."

Hermione had to bite down on her cheek to hide her grin. She should have known. Ravenclaw threw her friend an incredulous look. "Eccentric?"

Hufflepuff's eyes were sparkling with amusement, but she somehow managed to keep a straight face. "He did learn a great deal from Salazar. And Godric."

"He was impossible! He still is impossible, and will forever be impossible!"

"How has he been impossible now?" Hermione asked. Part of her thought she didn't want to know, but she couldn't help herself. It was Merlin.

"He has spent the entire morning pestering me about time-travel! Can you imagine the possibilities of him with the ability to travel through time? I wouldn't be surprised if he went back in time and tried to take over a kingdom!"

Hermione tried to resist. She really did. "That sounds like a lot of work. He'd be more likely to find some young warrior and train them up so that they could take over a kingdom for him instead."

Harry and Ron had definitely been a bad influence.

"I don't think you're helping," Hufflepuff murmured. Ravenclaw's eyes were wide with dismay. Hermione blushed a little, but couldn't quite suppress a grin, and Hufflepuff winked at her before pressing the goblet of wine into Ravenclaw's hand.

"I am sure he wouldn't be that irresponsible," she said more loudly. "Now, why don't you tell us about your research?"

Ravenclaw brightened a little, and Hermione leaned forward in hr chair. Listening to any of the Founders discuss something they loved was a treat, but Ravenclaw's work was beyond fascinating.

Naturally, that was the moment when someone knocked on the door. Ravenclaw scowled at the piece of wood like it had personally offended her, and Hufflepuff quickly turned a snort into a cough.

"Come in," she called.

Considering the way the morning had gone, Hermione wasn't completely surprise when Myrddin stuck his head round the door.

"There you are," he said cheerfully. "I've been looking for you."

Ravenclaw stiffened, but Myrddin, in a rare dismay of self-preservation, was actually addressing Hufflepuff, who just looked at him.

"And my office was the last place you looked?"

"Yes?" He shook his head, and bounced into the room. "Anyway, I need your advice on some things. Scar-related things."

Hermione's head snapped round. "You're helping research a way to remove the Horcrux from Harry?"

Myrddin folded his arms. "You could have told me I didn't need to be secretive."

"I didn't know what you wanted," Hufflepuff pointed out patiently. She set her goblet down, and crossed the room to join him. "You have something new?"

"Possibly. I borrowed a few books from Salazar."

Hufflepuff eyed him. "Is it still borrowing if he doesn't know about it?"

Myrddin cocked his head to one side, then waved a hand. "It is if I return them, which of course I will. Eventually."

Hermione wondered if she looked as outraged as Ravenclaw currently did when people said similar things about her books back home. If so, she could understand why Fred and George found teasing her so entertaining. Myrddin's eyes were sparkling as he looked at Ravenclaw.

"And I would certainly never act in such a way with anyone else's books."

Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from grinning. Ravenclaw closed her eyes and seemed to be counting to ten, or maybe a hundred, and Hufflepuff placed a firm hand on Myrddin's arm.

"And I think we have work to do," she said. Ravenclaw made to stand, and she waved a hand. "Oh no, we will leave you in peace. I think this conversation requires somewhere with a few more wards."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Myrddin cheerfully. "They shouldn't be that destructive."

"They should not be destructive at all," Ravenclaw snapped. Hufflepuff patted her arm, then refilled her glass of wine.

"Leave it to me," she said. She directed an unusually sharp look at Myrddin, who grinned and gave elaborate bows to both Ravenclaw and Hermione before vanishing with a faint pop. Hufflepuff raised her eyes to the ceiling, muttered something under her breath, and disappeared after him.

Hermione could only shake her head. Even after all this time, part of her was still convinced that nobody should be able to Apparate within Hogwarts.

"I'm going to have so much reading to do."

Ravenclaw shot her a quizzical look, and she elaborated, "I don't understand how the knowledge of being able to Apparate inside Hogwarts was lost. Even after so long, it's something that would be so useful to Headmasters that I can't see why it wouldn't be passed on. And then there are so many other details about the wards that we don't know, like the translation aspects, and the ability to detect Dark creatures…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "I hope Professor Slytherin goes into sufficient detail. I'll have to make notes."

Ravenclaw laughed, her exasperation with Myrddin finally fading. "He will be only too happy to oblige, I assure you." She looked at Hermione, and her smile faded slightly. "We are doing everything we can to get you home."

"I know," said Hermione quickly. "We all knew it was never going to be easy. But we're learning so much here, so it's been worth it."

She didn't want to imagine how the confrontation with the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries would have gone in their previous state, let alone the rest of the war. They had had no idea what they were getting into. It was going to be hard enough to survive as it was.

Still, she did miss home. She missed Neville and Ginny, and all their friends. She would even be happy to see Lavender and Parvati again. And Hogwarts itself was so different in their time. She missed the portraits, and the suits of armour, and the hundreds of students. Hogwarts felt so empty with less than two hundred students.

"Hermione?"

Hermione shook herself and looked up. "Sorry. I was just thinking about how much Hogwarts has changed in the future."

Ravenclaw's expression turned wistful. "I would love to see it as it is in your time. You have told us how things have changed, and how our legacy has grown, but to see it…" She trailed off, and shook her head. "But that cannot be, and it is enough to know that our dream survives." She paused. "Though I must ask, has anyone found a way to get rid of that poltergeist?"

Hermione blinked. "Peeves?"

Ravenclaw groaned. "I will take that as a no."

"He's still around," said Hermione with a sigh. "He's a menace, but he's scared of the Headmaster, and doesn't do anything really bad enough to get himself exorcised." She frowned. "But I thought he must have come to Hogwarts later. We've been here for months and haven't seen him."

Ravenclaw shook his head. "He inhabited the castle long before we took ownership of it. We have spent the last two decades trying to banish him, but he always returns. Helga and Godric last tried shortly before you arrived, and as this is the longest he has been away, we were hoping they had finally succeeded." She sighed. "But clearly we were mistaken."

"At least he hasn't been around to see us," said Hermione fervently. "He would never keep his mouth shut."

Ravenclaw grimaced at the thought. "That might cause one or two problems, yes." She shook herself and smiled. "But enough of that creature. What about the other entities who come to inhabit our home?"

Hermione took another sip of her wine and sat back. "Well, there are the four ghosts," she began. "One for each house. We, the Gryffindors that is, have Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington." She grinned. "Or as everyone calls him, Nearly Headless Nick."

Ravenclaw blinked, then shook her head. "Oh dear."

"He's very nice," Hermione told her. "So's the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost. They're both very good with the first years."

"At least they will get some good experiences with spirits," said Ravenclaw dryly. "And what of the Ravenclaw and Slytherin ghosts?" There was no mistaking the curiosity in her eyes.

"I don't actually know much about them," Hermione admitted. "I've never spoken to either of them. The Bloody Baron only ever talks to the Slytherins, and not even they like it when he does. I don't think I've ever seen the Ravenclaw ghost properly." She thought back. "Padma, one of our friends in Ravenclaw, told me that she's called the Grey Lady," she said, after a moment. "But as far as I know she's never spoken to anyone who wasn't a Ravenclaw." She frowned. "Not even at the Deathday Party, which was strange. Most of the ghosts were only too happy to tell us how they died. In great detail." If she hadn't known better she'd say the ghost had been avoiding them. Then again, she did seem to avoid three-quarters of the school as a matter of principle.

Ravenclaw gave a delicate shudder. "That does seem to be every spirit's favourite topic." She tilted her head to one side, and then smiled. "Perhaps this Grey Lady will be more willing to talk to you when you return. You are a Ravenclaw now, after all."

Hermione smiled at the thought. No-one back home would be surprised by her new Sorting, though Harry's was another matter. Part of her was looking forward to seeing just how everyone reacted to the changes the three of them had undergone. People like Snape and Malfoy were certain to be entertaining.

Others though, well. Terrifying was a more appropriate term.

"Hermione?"

Once again Hermione looked up to find Ravenclaw watching her with open concern. The older witch frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Hermione hesitated, but the matter had been on her mind for some time. She hadn't managed to bring it up with anyone yet, even Hufflepuff, but now that the opportunity had arisen, wasting it would be foolish. Besides, Ravenclaw was about as likely to let something worrying go as she was.

"It's my parents," she said quietly. "I…I don't know how they're going to react to all this."

Ravenclaw's frown deepened, and she sat back in her chair. "Yes, I see. Even for magical parents, this situation would be difficult to accept."

"Mrs Weasley isn't going to be happy," Hermione agreed. "And mine…" She hesitated, but Ravenclaw's eyes held nothing but encouragement, and she took a deep breath. "They feel excluded from my life as it is."

It wasn't something she had meant to happen. She had been close to both her parents growing up, and that hadn't changed when they first learned about magic. They had accompanied her to Diagon Alley before first and second year, and they had been delighted to hear all her stories and to see what sort of things she had been learning.

But she had been attacked by a troll, and accompanied two other first years to try to stop the most powerful Dark wizard in the world, and then she had been Petrified, and nearly killed by a sixty-foot Basilisk, and then she had been attacked by a hundred Dementors, and those were not the sort of things her parents would have liked to hear about. Hermione knew her parents, knew that they loved her dearly, and so she had known how they would react to the news that their only child had been in so much danger. She would have been lucky to have kept her wand, let alone remain in Hogwarts.

So Hermione hadn't told them. She had told them about her lessons, and her friends, and had carefully made no mention of any of their more exciting extra-curricular activities, and she had been able to return to Hogwarts each year.

The trouble was, neither of her parents were stupid. They knew she was hiding something, and over time, those secrets had come between them. Hermione had taken to spending more time with the Weasleys over the holidays, and while both her mother and father said that they understood, she could see how much it pained them. Hermione had tried to justify it to herself, it was safer for them if she wasn't there, she was a Muggle-born and Harry Potter's friend and a target, but she couldn't ignore the uncomfortable silences between her mother and herself, or the increasing distance from her father.

"I never meant for it to happen," she whispered. "But so many things happened, and I didn't want them to worry, and everything just…" Tears pricked at her eyes, and she looked down. "I miss them."

She missed the way she would curl up next to her father and listen to tales of Greek mythology. She missed the way her mother would talk about biology and chemistry over knitting. She missed their hugs and encouragement and wonder at what she was capable of.

She only had herself to blame for losing it all.

There was a moment's pause, then a gentle hand cupped her cheek, and Hermione looked up just in time to see open compassion in Ravenclaw's dark eyes before her mentor pulled her into a hug. Hermione stiffened in surprise, but it had been so long since she had been the one receiving comfort, and she soon found herself hugging back.

"It's all right, Hermione," Ravenclaw whispered. "It will all be all right."

For a long moment Hermione let herself believe it, then she drew back. Ravenclaw waved a hand, and the armchair expanded enough for her to sit next to Hermione.

"I will not say that you have not made mistakes," she said gently. "Your parents deserved to know the truth."

Hermione flinched, but couldn't argue. If it had been her daughter… "I haven't even talked to them properly for months," she admitted. "I spent most of the summer with Ron because it was safer, and there was so much to do, and I interrupted our trip at Christmas because I wanted to be with Harry and Ron." The memory of the disappointment in her parents' eyes sent another sharp pang of guilt through her heart, and she closed her eyes. "I never meant for it to get so bad."

Ravenclaw sighed. "I confess, I do not understand how it did. From what you have told me, they were very supportive of your magic."

"They were," said Hermione quickly. "They were nothing like Harry's relatives. They were so excited when Professor McGonagall came and explained all about magic." She remembered their first trip to Diagon Alley, and smiled. "They were very proud."

Ravenclaw nodded but said nothing, and Hermione thought back. "I-I think things started to go wrong in second year. We went to get my school things with Harry and the Weasleys, and that was fine, but we bumped into Malfoy." She grimaced. "And his father."

Ravenclaw's eyes narrowed. She had heard enough stories of Hogwarts to recognise the names. "Ah. Yes, I can see how that might have influenced them."

Hermione bit her lip. "They didn't know anything about pure-blood prejudice. Neither did I back then. But we learned over that year, and that tarnished their view of the magical world." She shifted in the magically expanded sofa. "And that was the year I started keeping more secrets from them, and well…" She trailed off with another grimace.

Ravenclaw was silent for a long minute, then sighed and took Hermione's hands in hers. "You will have a great deal of work to do," she said gently. "Though you had the best of intentions, it will not be easy for them to accept your silence over the past years." Hermione's stomach twisted, but Ravenclaw wasn't finished, "But things are not irreparable between you. Your parents love you, Hermione, and I can see that you love them. You still have a chance to make things right." She paused, dark eyes clouding. "And if they cannot accept who you are, and what you have become, then you will have some decisions to make."

Despite the warmth of the fire, Hermione suddenly felt very cold. She had always known that being a Muggle-born might have to mean choosing between her magic and her old life, but she had never given it serious consideration. She loved magic, loved her friends and the wizarding world, but she couldn't just abandon everything she had grown up with.

But if it kept her parents safe…

Hermione shook her head. First she would talk to them. After that, they would see.

The silence was broken by a knock at the door. Ravenclaw started, and her expression turned slightly rueful.

"They will be looking for Helga," she murmured, then added in a louder voice, "Come in."

The door swung open, and Hermione was surprised when Ron entered the room, and even more surprised to see he had his arm wrapped around a young boy Hermione remembered getting Sorted with them. Ron looked at the two of them, then scratched his head and stepped back out into the corridor to peer around in a highly exaggerated manner.

"No, I definitely got the right room."

The boy giggled, and Ron winked at Hermione before turning to Ravenclaw. "I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, but is Professor Hufflepuff around?"

Ravenclaw's dark eyes were bright with amusement as she shook her head. "I'm afraid Myrddin asked her to assist him with some ideas."

Ron winced. "Then I'm almost glad she's not here. At last with her around we know he's not going to blow up the castle or anything." The boy shot him a startled look, and Ron ruffled his hair. "Don't worry," he said, in a loud whisper. "The professors will protect us from the crazy wizard."

The boy laughed again, and Hermione found herself smiling too. Ron had gotten a lot better at dealing with first years since the start of the year. Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed we will," she said. "In the meantime, was there something I can help you with?"

Ron nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yes, actually. You see, Edgar here has been feeling a bit homesick." The boy ducked his head, and Ron gave him a gentle nudge. "Now come on, what did I say?"

"That everyone gets homesick sometimes," Edgar mumbled.

"Exactly. I get homesick, even Hermione here gets homesick."

Hermione had to swallow hard before she could reply. "He's right. I miss my parents a lot." She smiled at the boy, who managed to meet her eyes this time. "It's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

Ron beamed at her, and Hermione was surprised by just how much better it made her feel. Ravenclaw rose to her feet, and walked over to crouch in front of Edgar.

"Your parents are Muggles, I believe?" Edgar nodded shyly, and Ravenclaw nodded. "And so you haven't been able to write to them." She gave him a warm smile, and placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him to a chair. "I know that Helga is your head of house, but I am sure she won't mind arranging a visit in the very near future."

Edgar's eyes lit up, and Hermione quietly moved to the door. She knew when it was time to make a discreet exit. Ravenclaw caught her eye and smiled, and Hermione followed Ron out the room feeling far better than she had. Ron shut the door quietly and blew out a breath.

"I nearly asked him if he wanted to Floo home," he muttered, as they set off down the corridor. "Probably wouldn't have gone down well."

"Probably not, considering Floo Powder won't be invented for another few hundred years," Hermione agreed. Ron nodded ruefully, and she smiled. "But did you see the way he was looking at you?"

Ron's ears blazed red, and he ducked his head. "Well, I couldn't just leave him all upset, could I?"

Hermione gave him a fond look. He had really grown over the past few months, and not just in the physical sense. Although he had filled out very nicely thanks to all the physical training they had been doing. That thought made her cheeks heat up, and she looked away.

"Who won the snowball fight?"

Ron blinked, then grinned. "Depends how you define winning. In terms of having fun, us. In terms of covering the opposition in a ton of snow? Still us."

Hermione had to laugh. Ron had always been good at that. She glanced around, and frowned. "Where's Harry?"

Ron's grin widened. "Helena and William realised how hard he's been finding Runes."


"Why didn't you tell us you were having problems?"

Harry blushed as his two friends pored over his rolls of parchment. "I was getting through it." Just very slowly. Hermione had often talked about how hard Arithmancy was, but he had always gotten the impression that Runes wasn't as horrible. Then again, it was Hermione.

William was shaking his head. "You do realise that learning new languages isn't supposed to be easy, don't you? We spent most of our first few years on this asking for help."

Harry shifted in his chair. He knew Hermione would have been happy to help him, and Slytherin had made it clear that he was willing to assist anyone who was finding the subject difficult, but he had wanted to do it himself. "I know, but this is the basic stuff, and you've got your own projects-"

"So? Harry, considering all the time you spend helping me not kill people in Potions, did you really think I wouldn't want to help?"

"Same goes for me," said Helena absently, as she flicked through the notes. "I'm not even in your potions class, but the Great Hall isn't that far from the classroom, and who knows what he might have come up with."

William's hand twitched towards his wand, and Harry was quick to intervene. "He's not that bad. You're not that bad," he corrected, turning to address William. "And you don't have to help me just because I helped you."

William blinked. "Well, no, but friends do tend to help each other out. And it is what Hogwarts is for in the first place."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Against one of them he might have won the argument, but both of them? He had no chance.

Besides, why was he even complaining?

"All right. So where have I been going wrong?"

The two exchanged an immensely satisfied look, and Helena leaned over. "Let's start from the beginning…"

Despite Harry's reservations, the next hour was surprisingly productive. Admittedly, Helena did have a tendency to go into far more detail than necessary, and William was easily distracted by more unconventional uses for the things they were studying, but between the two of them they were able to clear up most of Harry's confusion.

"...which is why Runes of the same element link so well together, like Tiwaz and Mannaz."

Harry frowned and flicked back through his notes. "So, you could link Answuz with them too?"

Helena beamed at him. "Exactly! Though you won't be linking more than two Runes for quite some time."

William snorted. "He won't be linking any Runes at all until Slytherin's happy they all know them all." He gave Harry a slightly sheepish smile. "Sorry, my friend. We might have gone a little bit ahead."

Harry grinned and shook his head. "It's fine. I'm usually better at understanding things once I know what they're used for anyway." Unlike Hermione, who could remember nothing just by reading about it, Harry needed some sort of practical context. He ran a hand through his hair, and reached for his pain-stakingly drawn out alphabet. "What about the next series?"

William immediately launched into another explanation, but when Harry looked up he found Helena staring at him. She blushed slightly when she realised he had caught her, but held his gaze. "My apologies, Harry, but I couldn't help noticing your scar."

Harry couldn't quite suppress a grimace. Even a thousand years in the past, his facial disfigurement was attracting attention. Hiding it had been easier since growing his hair out, but some people were annoyingly observant.

"What scar?"

Helena rolled her eyes, but Harry sighed and pushed his fringe aside enough to let William see. The boy studied it for a moment, then his eyes grew wide and he glanced at Helena, who nodded. "Exactly."

"What?" Harry demanded. His stomach was twisting uncomfortably. Neither of his friends knew anything about his real past. They had no reason to think his stupid scar was anything out of the ordinary.

William, though, was still openly staring. "You don't know. Of, of course, you never studied this before." He grabbed Harry's notes before he could say anything and shuffled through them, before jabbing his finger at a particular rune. "Now, what does this remind you of?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He'd drawn the rune out himself, and he couldn't deny that the symbols were identical.

"Sowilo," Helena murmured. "It symbolises victory, among other things." She looked up, and her dark eyes locked on Harry's. "How did you get that scar, Harry?"

Harry jerked back, stung by her bluntness. "That's none of your business."

Helena opened her mouth indignantly, but fell silent when William touched her arm. His expression was very serious. "You're right," he said. "It isn't. But I've only ever heard of serious curses leaving marks like that, and we've already established that friends are allowed to look out for each other."

Harry hesitated, still annoyed by their reactions, but the concern on their faces was genuine. Actually they both looked a lot more worried than he had expected, and it was that more than anything else that made him reply.

"A Dark wizard tried to kill me," he said shortly. William drew in a sharp breath, and Helena's eyes narrowed, until Harry scowled at them. "I'm fine now."

His friends exchanged a long look, then they both nodded.

"All right," said Helena. She hesitated a moment. "Is that why you came here? You and your friends?"

Harry paused. It was as good an excuse as any. Technically, it was even true. "I needed to get stronger. Everyone thought he would try again. Ron and Hermione wouldn't let me go alone."

They looked at each other again, and Harry's still simmering anger flared up. He shook his head, and began to stuff his notes back into his bag. "I need to go. Professor Slytherin wanted to see me, and he should be back by now."

That wasn't a lie either. They did have an Occlumency session scheduled, even if it was for that evening. Harry didn't think Slytherin would mind though. William bit his lip, but handed over the rest of the parchment without arguing.

"He should be, and you know where to find us if you have any questions." He caught and held Harry's gaze. "Or for any other reason."

Harry just nodded. William gave him a small smile and turned back to his own work, but Helena was still frowning. Harry squashed down an uncomfortable bundle of emotion, and left before either of them could make the situation even more awkward than it already was.

Harry did consider looking for Ron and Hermione, but the anger was still bubbling away in the pit of his stomach, and he'd taken his temper out on them enough times over the year, so he headed for the dungeons. He'd found that Potions was rather relaxing when Snape wasn't around, and Slytherin always had something brewing. He wasn't even sure why he was so angry though. His scar was unusual enough that he couldn't really blame his friends for asking about it, and he knew they hadn't meant any harm. They had just been curious. Considering the connection they had made, Harry was curious too.

Still, he had gotten used to not having people gaping at his forehead. He hadn't missed it. That was one nice thing about being in the past. Here he was known for his Duelling skills, and he had earned that attention. He wasn't famous for something he had done as a baby and barely remembered.

William and Helena hadn't meant to stir up the old resentment, but Harry knew himself well enough to stay away from them for a little while.

Fortunately, Slytherin was in his office when Harry knocked, though he seemed to be in just as much of a bad mood as Harry was himself. The tightness in his expression faded when he opened the door though, and he gave Harry a small smile.

"Who won?"

Harry blinked, then remembered the morning's snowball fight and grinned. "You'll probably get a different answer from everyone you ask, but it was definitely us."

Slytherin snorted, and stepped aside to wave Harry in. Harry made his way through to the potions lab, and smiled at the array of ingredient laid out. He glanced back at Slytherin, who had joined him with his usual silent steps.

"May I?"

If Slytherin was surprised by the request, he didn't show it. "Be my guest. You know how to handle the Malaclaw venom?"

"Very carefully," said Harry promptly.

Slytherin didn't laugh, but his eyes sparkled and that was enough. Harry grinned, and took his gloves from his bag. They weren't quite as good as his dragonhide gloves back home, but they were fine for this.

The two of them worked in companionable silence. By now Harry was confident enough with the various ingredients to work without supervision, and he found his mood improving as he worked his way across the table. The approving nods he received whenever he did something he wouldn't have had a clue about three months ago didn't hurt either.

So by the time he did decide to ask his question, Harry was quite calm.

"Sir, when did you realise that my scar was in the shape of the Sowilo rune?"

This time Slytherin did raise an eyebrow, but he otherwise remained completely calm. "The first time I saw it. Hermione also brought it up when I tested on her knowledge, the day after we met."

Harry stilled at that. "She knew?"

"It is fairly obvious for anyone with a more than passing understanding of runes," said Slytherin dryly. "Her conclusions agree with my own."

Harry set down his knife and turned to fully face his teacher. "And what were they?"

Slytherin met his gaze without flinching. "That Voldemort's curse meeting your mother's protection caused an extremely rare reaction."

Harry waited, then frowned. "That's it?"

Slytherin just looked at him. "There have been rather more pressing matters to research."

Harry couldn't exactly argue, but it was still frustrating. Slytherin sighed. "I expect Dumbledore knows more about it than either of us."

Harry grimaced. "Something else to ask him then." He was going to have to make a list at this rate. Hermione had probably already made one, come to think of it.

Slytherin's lips thinned, but he just inclined his head. He waved a hand and flames sprang to life beneath the cauldron, and only then did he speak, "May I ask what brought this on?"

Harry sighed. His earlier anger seemed rather childish now. "William and Helena noticed. I told them that someone tried to kill me." He shrugged, and added the dried Flobberworms to the cauldron. "They think that's why we came here."

"It's as good a story as any," said Slytherin quietly. He gave the potion three precise clockwise stirs, and set the glass rod on the table. "They worry about you."

"Yeah," said Harry, with a sigh. He thought about how they reacted. "But I think we'll be okay."

Slytherin gave him a faint smile. "I am pleased to hear it."

Harry nodded, already feeling better himself. He could clear things up with his friends later. He watched the potion simmer for a minute, then decided he might as well go for it. "How was your meeting?"

If he hadn't been watching, he would have missed the irritation that flickered across Slytherin's face. "It is exasperating when a Dark wizard is less troublesome than one's own ally."

Harry snorted, and hastily turned it into a cough when Slytherin looked at him. "Sorry, but that's hardly surprising."

He was half-expecting Slytherin to defend the Baron, but instead the Founder just grunted. Harry bit back his own grin with an effort. Maybe his new house was rubbing off on him, but he couldn't be upset that Edmund was irritating everyone instead of just Helena. The look Slytherin gave him said he was quite aware of his feelings, but before he could say anything there was a sharp crack, and Harry spun round to find Myrddin grinning at him.

"Good afternoon."

Harry scowled, and replaced his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Slytherin doing the same.

"Myrddin," the Founder said evenly. "What have I told you?"

Myrddin waved a hand. "You probably wouldn't have got me. At least not fatally."

Slytherin pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry eyed the door. He might be able to make it before Myrddin noticed him...

"And how is my favourite time-traveller?"

Harry sighed, and turned back to the wizard. "Fine, I think." He eyed the stack of books in Myrddin's arms rather warily. "What's all that?"

Myrddin's grin made him immediately regret that question, but at that moment there was a tap at the door. Slytherin waved a hand without looking, and Hufflepuff appeared in the doorway. She smiled at Harry, touched Slytherin's shoulder briefly, and fixed a sharp look at Myrddin.

"We have talked about this."

Myrddin muttered something under his breath, then added more loudly, "But developments have been made!"

Slytherin raised an eyebrow at Hufflepuff, who sighed. "Yes, but a few more seconds wouldn't have hurt."

Myrddin just waved a hand, dumped the books in his arms on the nearest clear surface started pulling even more out of a bag. Harry goggled at just how many volumes appeared, but Slytherin let out a low hiss.

"Myrddin..."

"I'm returning them," said Myrddin immediately.

"You didn't tell me you had borrowed them at all," Slytherin growled. He stalked forward and shook his head as he glanced over the pile. "There is a reason I keep these hidden."

Myrddin pulled a face. "Can we tell you about the developments before you tell me off?"

Slytherin closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again all visible traces of irritation had vanished. "I hope this is worth it. For your sake."

Myrddin smirked, but his expression abruptly turned serious. "I think we have something."

Slytherin's only reaction was a slight tightening of his grip on his staff, but Harry's breath caught in his throat. "Is this..." He trailed off, suddenly uncertain, but Hufflepuff gave him a somewhat strained smile.

"Yes, Harry," she said gently. "We may, and I emphasise the term may, have a solution for your...problem."

Harry had to lean against the desk. His mind was spinning, but he didn't miss the long searching look Slytherin gave the two. "Tell me everything."

"We will," Hufflepuff promised. She rubbed wearily at her eyes. "There is still some work to do, but it is the most promising lead we have yet come up with."

Harry had to close his eyes. After months of knowing he carried a piece of Voldemort's very soul, even the prospect of a solution was staggering. Even if it wasn't a complete answer, it was more hope than he had for longer than he was willing to admit.

Myrddin was still talking, and Harry dragged his attention back to the conversation.

"...and there shouldn't be much risk at all. Well, other than that if his soul being ripped out and devoured and him spending the rest of his days as a soulless husk."

Harry gaped. Hufflepuff pinched the bridge of her nose. Slytherin gave Myrddin the most impressive glare Harry had ever seen. Myrddin himself just blinked.

"What did I say?"

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be even more appreciated than usual because having a birthday on the same day you start a placement in a notoriously tricky theatre is stressful. ;)

Chapter 24: Fire and Blood

Notes:

Apologies for the delay everyone, I'm coming up to the end of this degree and that means all my assignments are due soon. However, we are also approaching the grand finale, and so I will try to update a little more regularly. Thank you again for all the reviews, favourites and alerts, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Harry, this is completely and utterly insane."

"Which part?" Ron asked. "The bit where they mix a fake Dementor's Kiss with the Killing Curse to get a random bit of soul out of Harry's head, the part where they make their own Horcrux out of said bit of soul, or where they want to unleash Fiendfyre in Hogwarts?" He shrugged. "Or that we could be having a nice day in Hogsmeade instead?"

If looks could kill... Harry spoke up before Hermione could eviscerate their friend, "We've been over this. It's not really the Killing Curse or the Dementor's Kiss, we need the Horcrux in order to make sure it's really destroyed, and Gryffindor can control Fiendfyre." Hermione drew in a deep breath, but Harry cut her off with a tired look. "And we're not exactly overwhelmed with ideas here."

Hermione held his gaze for a long moment, her brown eyes blazing, then rather abruptly deflated. "I know," she said quietly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Harry didn't reply. Instead he turned to stare out over the dark surface of the lake. He didn't like it either, but they simply didn't have a choice.

At least the Founders had been very clear about the risks. Horcruxes were incredibly rare, methods of destroying them were even more uncommon, and actually extracting one from a living creature had never been done before. They had all been horrified by just where the inspiration for the spells had come from, but as much as Harry hated it, using a Dementor did make sense. Or something vaguely related to a Dementor. Hufflepuff and Slytherin had gone into detail about just what they would be doing, and Hermione had bombarded them with even more questions, but Harry had soon been lost. He knew there was a risk, and he knew that the Founders had done everything they could to minimise it.

And as it was that or a Killing Curse, Harry knew which one he would rather take his chances with.

"Well," said Ron, after a few minutes of silence, "I don't know how Dumbledore was planning on dealing with it, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't like this."

Harry snorted. "I don't think that's a bad thing." As much as he still respected the Headmaster, his trust in him had taken a bit of a nosedive.

"Didn't say it was, mate," Ron assured him. The wind howled, and he pulled his cloak more tightly around himself as he continued, "Just makes me wonder what he's been planning all these years."

Hermione bit his lip. "He must have known. He must have had some idea of what to do."

Harry shook his head, and took a few steps closer to the lake. Speculating on what Dumbledore had and hadn't known, and more importantly hadn't told him, would only annoy him, and he couldn't deal with that now. Dumbledore would get a chance to explain when they got back.

The explanation had better be a damn good one.

Harry closed his eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. The air was cold enough to burn as it entered his lungs, and Harry held on to that feeling. He was here, he was alive, and he had people fighting to make sure he stayed that way. Those people might, as Hermione said, be crazy enough to have proposed an incredibly convoluted and risky plan, but they had cared enough to do so, and to make it very clear that it was his decision and his alone.

Harry had done so the moment he heard the proposal. He hadn't changed his mind in the two weeks they had taken to prepare. Now the day had come, and he wasn't going to back out now.

Next to him, Hermione sighed and shifted uneasily in the snow. "We should head back inside," she said. "It's nearly midday."

Harry took a deep breath, and the three of them set off for the castle. On the way, they passed Castor and Pollux, who gave them cheerful waves.

"Not coming down into the village?" Pollux called.

Ron shook his head. "Got some work to finish. We might meet you down there later."

The twins nodded in unison, and continued on their way. Harry glanced back to watch the scattered trail of black-cloaked forms also heading down to Hogsmeade, and couldn't help shivering. "They will be all right, won't they?"

The way Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip told him he wasn't the only one to remember the failed ambush. "They should be. The Founders only announced that people could visit this morning. There was no reason for anyone to think to plan anything."

"Doesn't stop anyone from attacking Hogsmeade anyway though, does it?" said Ron grimly. "They have to have people watching."

"They'd be pretty stupid not to," Harry agreed. "But Slytherin told me that they asked a few former students to coincidentally pay a visit to Hengist today, and everyone else is on their guard. If anyone does attack, they won't be taken by surprise."

Ron looked mollified at that, but Hermione's expression turned even grimmer. "It makes you wonder whether Voldemort will ever resort to such tactics."

The very idea of Voldemort attacking during a Hogsmeade weekend made Harry's stomach churn with fear and fury. He gritted his teeth, and turned back toward the castle. "Yeah, it does. Which makes it even more important that we do everything we can to get rid of the bastard before he gets a chance."

Hermione grimaced, but didn't argue. They walked the rest of the way back to the castle in silence.

Three of the Founders were present when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived at the antechamber. The atmosphere was solemn, almost grim, and the look on Gryffindor's face as he caught sight of them did nothing to ease the tension.

"Good, you're here. Are you ready?"

Harry swallowed, but met Gryffindor's green eyes without flinching. "Yes, sir." He glanced round, and frowned. "Where-"

"Salazar is in the Chamber," said Ravenclaw. She was poring over a sheaf of parchment, and spared the trio only a brief smile. "He is ensuring that Issa knows to say away."

Ron swallowed. "Yeah, remind me again why we're doing this in the same place as the giant killer snake?"

"Because it is one of the few places in the castle that is both inaccessible to students, and has suitable protective enchantments," said Hufflepuff patiently. "The only other feasible option was the Room of Requirement."

"And those spells took far too much effort to risk contaminating with Dark Magic," Ravenclaw added. "The Horcrux would be bad enough, but Fiendfyre..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

Harry frowned at her. "Is Fiendfyre really that bad?"

Ron goggled at him, and Hermione shook her head, but it was Gryffindor explained, "Harry, Fiendfyre is among the most destructive magic known to wizards. I've been practicing with it for months and I still won't do it anywhere but the Chamber. I never would have attempted it at all if fire magic didn't come so easily to me."

The rather grim silence was broken when Ron spoke up, "On the plus side, the Horcrux is toast."

Hermione shot him an exasperated look, but Harry had to grin. Ron grinned back, and looked at the Founders. "So, when are we going?"

Their teachers looked at each other, then Gryffindor closed his eyes. A moment later, he nodded and opened them again. "Salazar says that Issa is secure." He smiled at them. "Now, we can Apparate, or can take the longer route."

Ron scratched his head. "Sliding down the pipe was pretty fun."

Harry took a moment to enjoy the equally revolted looks on the faces of Hermione and Ravenclaw before shaking his head. "Actually, it turns out you can just call for stairs."

Ron paused, then shook his head ruefully. "That makes more sense."

Hermione, though, was frowning. "But surely stairs would be more difficult for Professor Slytherin to manage. I mean, with his leg..." She trailed off, cheeks turning pink, but Hufflepuff smiled at her.

"Indeed, which is why the stairs can be commanded to move. It is quite a nice way to travel." She glanced at Gryffindor. "But in the interests of finishing this before the students start returning, I think Apparating would be the more sensible idea."

There was no objections to that, though it was with some reluctance that Harry took Hufflepuff's arm. Side-Along Apparation was even more uncomfortable now that he knew how to Apparate himself, but none of the Founders were willing to relax the wards enough for the trio to do it themselves with the threat of the Order hanging over them.

It was the third time Harry had been in the Chamber, but he still had to take a moment to fight down the instinctual surge of panic. Fighting a Basilisk and one of Voldemort's Horcruxes while Ginny lay dying on the floor weren't memories that could be ignored easily. The presence of the other Founders helped, as did the knowledge that Slytherin had the Basilisk under complete control, but Harry still found himself shaking.

He didn't even notice Ron had joined him until his friend rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Breathe, mate," Ron murmured. "It's is gonna be tricky enough without you passing out on us before we even start."

It was the distraction Harry needed, and he pulled himself together. "I don't know. At least I wouldn't be able to run away screaming."

Ron just snorted, and squeezed his shoulder before letting go. Harry gave him a grateful nod, and caught Hufflepuff's approving smile, before he was distracted by Hermione's awestruck expression.

"This place is incredible."

Part of Harry had to agree with her. The Chamber, with its elegant columns and intricate carvings, was impressive to say the least. Emerald flames burned at regular intervals, reminding Harry of the Slytherin Common Room, and it was far more welcoming than one might expect.

It was still the place where he and Ginny had nearly died though.

Harry shook his head sharply, and turned to Hufflepuff.

"So where are we doing this?"

Anywhere but right in front of the statue of Slytherin's grandfather...

Hufflepuff smiled, and laid a hand on his shoulder and began to guide him past the statue. "Salazar designed a number of smaller chambers for experimental potions and spellwork. They have the strongest wards."

Harry blew out a breath. That he could handle. Now as long as Issa stayed well out of the way, he should be all right. All he had to worry about then was the possibility of getting his soul ripped out and devoured.

Harry gritted his teeth. He had made his choice, and it was the only choice he could make. There was no going back now.

Still, Harry was relieved to find Slytherin ready and waiting for them in the small side chamber. He trusted his teacher. He had rather more mixed feelings about seeing Myrddin. On the one hand, there was no denying that the wizard was a genius, and Harry was quite pleased to have him around for their highly dangerous, experimental ritual.

On the other...

"Oh, he did show up. Are we sure he's not insane?"

Harry very firmly fought down the urge to back out the room. Hufflepuff's grip tightened on his shoulder, but when he looked he saw her frowning at Myrddin. Before she could say anything though, Slytherin fixed his former pupil with a piercing look.

"I believe you have preparations to make."

His voice was perfectly even, but Myrddin promptly nodded and disappeared down another passage. Slytherin shook his head, and turned to Harry. "I am still working on his people skills."

Harry was too nervous to laugh, but he did smile. Hufflepuff patted him on the arm, and stepped back. "It looks like you are ready."

Harry had been so distracted by Myrddin that he hadn't had a proper look around. Now he did, and saw that small was relative matter. The chamber they currently occupied was about twice the size of a normal classroom, and the floor was covered in intricate symbols and carefully drawn lines. He stiffened, suddenly very wary about where to tread, but Slytherin caught his eye and shook his head.

"The marks will not fade until I wish them to. It is safer than using materials such as chalk."

Harry nodded, but his words were cut off by a gasp from behind him. "Oh, I've read about that. The book said the skill was first developed by Ptolemy in Alexandria-"

"And that's great and all, but I really don't think Harry needs a history lesson right now, Hermione," Ron interrupted.

Harry just smiled at his best friends. He always felt better about doing something stupid when they were with him. Ron winked at him, and though Hermione huffed, her scowl faded to concern as she looked round.

"I've never seen anything like this."

"I would hope not," said Gryffindor dryly. He and Ravenclaw had entered just behind Ron and Hermione, and he was now studying the markings with undisguised distaste. "Even by the standards of some of your teachers, this would be concerning."

Harry snorted. "Quirrell and Crouch would have loved it. A strong possibility of me dying, and they wouldn't even have to do much."

The already sober atmosphere plummeted. Ron winced and leaned forward. "Maybe don't talk about just how many people want to kill you?" he suggested, in an exaggerated whisper.

"Not the ones who were supposed to be protecting you, at least," said Slytherin. His tone was mild, but a faint breeze was whipping at his and Hufflepuff's hair. Hufflepuff's own eyes had narrowed, but she rested a hand on his arm, and the wind died. Harry looked away.

"Right. Sorry." He took a deep breath, and focused on the markings. "So, what do I do?"

Slytherin shook his head, and stepped toward him. "Stand in the centre of this pentagon," he said. "Think about your happiest memories, and all the reasons you want to live. We will do the rest."

Harry glanced at him. "Just like with a normal Dementor then." Slytherin inclined his head, and Harry took another long breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. I can do that." He stepped over to the pentagon Slytherin had indicated, and looked up slightly self-consciously. "I just stand here?"

"It would probably be better if you sat, actually," said Myrddin, and Harry just about jumped out of his skin. Gryffindor had drawn his wand in surprise though, so at least he wasn't the only one. Myrddin moved forward, seemingly completely oblivious to the scowls he was getting. "You might pass out, and this will be even harder with you bleeding to death from a cracked skull."

Ron stared at him, a red flush spreading across his cheeks. "Seriously? He's about to do a really dangerous magical ritual, and that's all you can say?"

Myrddin stared at him in clear confusion. "Well, it's true."

Harry recognised the signs of an impending Weasley explosion, but Gryffindor got there first. "Perhaps, but not everyone is accustomed to your manner, Myrddin. You would do well to remember that."

Myrddin stared at him, then at Slytherin, whose face was as grim as Gryffindor's, and his shoulders slumped. "I see," he said, in a tone that made it quite clear that he didn't. He shook himself and looked back at Harry. "But you should sit down. This is a new spell, and even we don't know exactly what's going to happen."

Harry couldn't argue with that. Slytherin nodded, and turned to Ron and Hermione. "I understand that you will not leave, but we also cannot have you disrupting the energies we are about to invoke." He gestured to the side of the chamber, where a space had been left clear. "You may observe, but do not enter the ritual under any circumstances."

"We won't," Hermione promised. She grabbed Ron's hand, and pulled him over to the wall. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw joined them, while Hufflepuff took up a position close to Harry. At his look of confusion, she gave him a warm smile.

"I am here to ensure that the spell does not take too great a toll on your body," she murmured. "There is a chance that things may not go as we hope, in which case I will step in."

Harry smiled back. "Thanks." After what he had seen over the past few months, Hufflepuff was the one healer who might actually be able to stop things from going too horribly wrong. The thought wasn't quite enough to slow his pounding heart, but it did make him feel a little bit better.

Even more reassuring was the fact that Slytherin took up a position on Hufflepuff's other side. He was holding a plain wooden box like it was a live weapon, and he placed it very carefully on the ground before turning to Harry. "We shall use this to contain the fragment of Voldemort's soul," he said. "Godric can then destroy it at will."

Harry eyed the box rather warily. It did not look like anything special, but from the way Slytherin regarded it there had to be something more. Slytherin caught his eye, and grimaced. "Horcruxes must be suitably prepared before they can be used to bind a soul fragment. The magic required is unpleasant, to say the least."

That explained some of the strain in his face. Harry nodded, then frowned. "I wasn't prepared in any way, was I?"

"You were never intended to be a Horcrux," Slytherin reminded him. "Which is fortunate for us, or there would have been no way to free you of him without killing you."

Harry swallowed. That was not a nice thought. He thought of Voldemort, and all the pain he had caused in his quest for immortality, and his resolve hardened. "We are going to destroy every one of those things as soon as possible when we get back," he vowed.

Slytherin's eyes glittered, and his answering smile was savage. "Good."

Hufflepuff shook her head, and stepped smoothly into the conversation. "Indeed, but perhaps we should concentrate on destroying the Horcrux at hand first?"

Slytherin inclined his head acknowledgement, and Harry decided it was time to take Myrddin's advice. The stone floor was cold and uncomfortable, but better that than falling over if he did pass out. Myrddin nodded, and stepped into the pentagram opposite his.

"Are you ready?"

Harry took a deep breath, and looked around. Ron and Hermione both looked terrified, but they were safely out of the way with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry was briefly amused to note that Hermione still hadn't let go of Ron's hand, and he hadn't made any move to make her. Neither looked happy, but they sent him as reassuring looks as they could. Harry nodded back, and turned to Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The witch gave him another warm smile, but Slytherin's eyes locked with Harry's, and though he said nothing, Harry understood the promise within them. Slytherin would do whatever it took to make this work. So would the others, but Harry knew just how deeply Slytherin felt about all this, and it settled him more than anything else. He could not be in better hands.

"And there is definitely no chance of the deadly Basilisk interrupting?"

Harry jumped and shot an incredulous look at Ron. His friend shrugged, and Slytherin raised an eyebrow.

"For some reason that thought had occurred to me," he said dryly. "She is fast asleep, and Zith is keeping an eye on her."

The idea of Slytherin's tiny friend guarding the enormous killer snake was incongruous enough that Harry had to smile. Slytherin caught his eye and smiled back, before turning to Myrddin. "Now then. If there are no further issues?"

Silence fell. Harry's heart was pounding in his rib cage, and he had to force himself to breathe evenly. He was in good hands. He trusted everyone in the room, even Myrddin. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

"Do it."

Myrddin did not wait for further debate. He took a deep breath and began to chant.

Harry would never remember just what spells they used. For one thing, he had no idea what languages they were speaking, let alone the actual incantations. For another, he was a little bit preoccupied by the way his soul seemed to be tearing itself apart.

It was worse than facing Dementors. It was worse than being close to Voldemort. It felt like something had reached into his very self and wrenched. It was ice and darkness and all-encompassing pain, and it was just as well Harry was already sitting down because all he could do was curl in on himself and scream.

At the edges of his awareness, Harry could make out concerned voices, but the tearing sensation in his chest was only intensifying, and concentrating on anything was impossible.

Please let it end soon it had to end soon he couldn't bear it he want strong enough no one was strong enough for this...

But somehow, in the midst of the cold and the terror, Harry felt something else. A flicker of rage and hate blazing bright as a star against the icy touch, and yet as alien as the Dementors were. Something inside of him howled as it was torn apart, and for a moment Harry felt nothing but terror and fury that made it impossible to breathe.

The Horcrux fought, fought with all the ferocity Lord Voldemort possessed, and for a moment Harry faltered.

But only for a moment.

Harry had defied Voldemort at eleven, at twelve, at fourteen, had faced him and his rage and hate at the moment of his rebirth, and had not bowed. Next to that, the Horcrux, the tiny ragged splinter of the Dark Lord's soul, was nothing.

Harry thought about his parents, his friends, his teachers, and screamed, and with a final, desperate wrench, something was torn free. Fire and ice tore through him, and then Harry found himself on a stone floor, his throat raw and every muscle trembling. He couldn't move; magic crackled all around him, but instead of pain there was warm, golden light and Harry cracked his eyes open enough to make out a blurry face.

"Wha..."

"Don't try to talk," said Hufflepuff gently. "The spell took its toll."

Harry had no intention of arguing. His eyes slipped closed as he felt the familiar warmth of Hufflepuff's healing magic, and he found his shaking easing as the pain began to fade. It still felt like someone had played tug-of-war with his soul, but he could breathe a bit more easily.

Without the distraction, Harry realised that Myrddin was no longer talking. Instead, it was Slytherin's voice ringing through the chamber, and there was enough of an edge to it that Harry forced his eyes open. The world spun before his eyes, and only Hufflepuff's quick healing kept him from throwing up, but after a moment the nausea faded and Harry was able to focus on his teacher.

Slytherin did not look like he was enjoying himself. His face was ashen and beaded with sweat, but as Harry watched his voice rang with a sudden surge of power and he jabbed his wand at the prepared container. There was a rush of wind and magic, and the howl of a defeated creature, then the box blazed a brilliant white and there was absolute silence.

For about two seconds.

"Harry!"

Harry barely had time to sit up before Ron and Hermione were upon him.

"Are you all right?" Hermione demanded. "That looked awful, and you were screaming..."

"You look worse than when we fight Dementors, mate," Ron agreed.

"You don't look so good yourself," Harry rasped. Ron's face was bone grey under his freckles, and Hermione's hair was even more wild than usual where she'd been running her hands through it. Both of them just stared at him.

"Seriously?" said Ron weakly. "Mate, you look..." He trailed off, shaking his head. Harry stared at him, then blinked at Hufflepuff.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Hufflepuff raised an eyebrow. "I'm still pouring healing magic into you, Harry," she pointed out. "But if you want to try getting up, you are more than welcome."

The very thought was enough to make Harry's stomach lurch again. Hufflepuff nodded in satisfaction, then glanced up as a shadow looked over them.

Slytherin looked exhausted, but he gave Harry a faint smile. "It worked."

Something in Harry had known that already, but hearing it left him light-headed. It took a minute of swallowing before he could speak. "Thank you."

Slytherin rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment, and Myrddin flopped down on the ground next to him. "You're welcome. That was hard, you know. I don't know how Dementors do it all day."

Ron gave a rather suspicious sounding cough, and Myrddin countered with an ingenuous smile, until Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Yes, you all did very well." He glanced at the new Horcrux, his handsome face twisting into a grimace. "And I will deal with that."

Hufflepuff frowned. "Give me a moment. I want to make absolutely sure that there were no unexpected effects."

"I feel okay," said Harry on instinct, and was surprised to find that it was actually true. He still ached, but the memory of the true pain was already fading, and the sheer relief of knowing that he was free of Voldemort's soul for good was better than any amount of healing.

Hufflepuff's lips pursed. "Be that as it may, I am still going to make sure. And you will tell me if you feel any discomfort," she added, with a sharp glance at Slytherin. The Founder tilted his head in acknowledgement, and Hermione shook her head.

"I can't believe that worked," she murmured. "It's completely insane."

Myrddin gave her a rather manic grin. "Partially insane, at best."

The identical expressions on Hermione and Ravenclaw's faces were enough to start laughter bubbling up in Harry's chest, and he didn't care that it hurt. It felt so good to be free.

"He's really gone, isn't he?"

Slytherin lowered himself down very carefully. "He is, and in a few minutes, one more portion of his soul will be obliterated."

His eyes were dancing with savage satisfaction, but there was something warmer underneath when he looked at Harry. "He can be killed. He will be killed."

Harry just nodded. He couldn't speak. Slytherin had kept his promise. Voldemort still had to be defeated, but for the first time since hearing about the Horcruxes, Harry felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they really could do this after all.

"Are you finished yet?" a dry voice asked. "It really is incredibly dull down here."

Harry started. "Who said that?"

Hufflepuff frowned at him. "Harry?"

Harry stared round, but Ron and Hermione gave him blank looks, and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seemed as bemused as Hufflepuff.

Slytherin, though, was staring at Harry, and his already pale face had gone as white as a sheet.

"You...heard that?" he whispered.

"Yeah," said Harry slowly. "Sounded pretty clear to me. But who could think..."

Then Harry saw where Slytherin was looking, and the words cut off abruptly.

At the doorway of the chamber, Zith drew herself up to her full eight inches of height and flicked her tongue at them.

"What are you all looking at me like that for?"

Everything seemed to stop. Harry stared at the little snake, the hissing snake, and the world fell away. He could understand her. He was still a Parselmouth. It hadn't worked, and there was still a part of Voldemort inside of him and Slytherin had done his best but it hadn't been enough and now what was he supposed to do…

"Breathe, Harry."

Hufflepuff's voice was calm, but strong enough that Harry couldn't even think of disobeying. He sucked in a shaky breath, and everything came back into focus as he looked up into Slytherin's ashen face.

"What happened?"

Slytherin's wand was in his hand and he was already running the now-familiar diagnostic charms. "I do not know. The spell was a success-"

"How can it be a success if he can still speak to snakes?" Ron demanded. His hands were clenched, and he hovered over Harry like a guard dog.

"That is what I am trying to ascertain," Slytherin snapped.

Ron's ears blazed red, but Gryffindor rested a hand on his shoulder and after a moment he subsided. Instead, he gritted his teeth and looked at Harry. "We'll fix this, mate."

Harry nodded, but his head was spinning. All the relief of two minutes ago had fled, to be replaced by a dawning sense of hopelessness.

The prophecy had said that he would have to die. Attempting to fight had been a waste of time.

Part of him knew that that was ridiculous, but the sudden loss of hope left him unable to care. They had done everything they could. All he could do now was fight. At least if he had to die, he could take Voldemort with him.

Then his attention was drawn back to the group by a disgusted growl.

"I tell you, the spell worked perfectly," Myrddin snapped. "The only Horcrux in this room is safely contained in that container."

Ron swelled with indignation, and Hermione looked a second away from verbally eviscerating him, but Gryffindor quelled them with a single glance.

"You are certain?"

"I wouldn't have said so otherwise," said Myrddin flatly.

Gryffindor frowned, but at that moment Slytherin lowered his wand.

"He is correct."

His voice was barely audible, and his eyes didn't leave Harry's. Harry stared back, the ache in his head forgotten now as Slytherin's concern cut through the fog surrounding him. If the Horcrux really was gone... But then...

"So what's wrong with me?"

"Is it possible that he could have retained the affinity for Parseltongue somehow?" Ravenclaw asked. "There are no records of a Horcrux being extracted from a wizard. We do not know what the residual effects might be."

"There shouldn't be any," Myrddin insisted. He whirled round to face Hufflepuff. "There shouldn't be any effects."

Hufflepuff took a moment to finish her own diagnostics, and shook her head. "There is only the faintest grace of Dark residue present," she said slowly. "I suppose that could be the cause."

She didn't sound convinced. Harry felt his temper rising, and had to force himself to take a deep breath. Yelling wouldn't do anyone any good.

It was Hermione who broke the tension. She had been looking from Harry to Slytherin and back again, her eyes growing steadily wider, and she suddenly gripped Harry's arm hard enough to bruise.

"I don't think it is the Horcrux," she breathed. "I don't think it's anything to do with that."

Harry scowled at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it," Hermione hissed. "If the Horcrux is gone, and all these tests are saying it is, then where else could the ability to speak Parseltongue have come from?"

Harry was in no mood for riddles, and was opening his mouth to tell her so when there was a harsh intake of breath from behind him. He spun round to find Slytherin gaping at Hermione, and the other Founders looking equally dumbstruck.

"Can it be?" Ravenclaw whispered.

Identical smiles were spreading across Gryffindor and Hufflepuff's faces.

"Oh, yes," said Gryffindor.

"It has to be," Hufflepuff agreed.

Slytherin still looked like someone had hexed him. Harry glared at them all, but Ron beat him to it.

"Can someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?"

Myrddin slung an arm around his shoulder, his beaming grin lighting up the room. "Standards really must have gone down in the future. Even you must know that being a Parselmouth is hereditary."

Ron's eyes went wide as saucers. "No way," he breathed.

Harry could scarcely hear him over the sudden ringing in his ears. His knees felt like jelly, and he sat down hard before he could fall.

"You...I'm..."

Slytherin was still gaping. Myrddin rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, Professor," he said brightly. "You're a many times removed great-uncle."

Slytherin still said nothing. Harry was vaguely glad that someone was as gobsmacked as he was, but the thought was still too insane to comprehend.

The Horcrux was gone. That was good. And he was...

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "All those idiots in second year were right!"

That jerked Harry from his shock, and he stared incredulously at his friend. Ron held up his hands, but he couldn't keep his grin from his face. "Come on, it's not like it's a bad thing."

Harry didn't know what to think, so he turned to the person whose thinking he always trusted. "But everyone told me it was just Voldemort."

Hermione was nodding, her eyes bright with excitement. "Of course they did. I mean, everyone knew that the Potters had no relation to Slytherin, I know some of the older Ravenclaws and Slytherins went back through the most ancient records and could find no blood relation-"

"Then how is this all possible?"

Hermione frowned at the interruption, but it was Ravenclaw who answered. "It has long since been theorised that the presence of magic in Muggle-born children is due to a Squib ancestor," she said. "Of course, it is only a theory, and not one that is possible to test, but..."

She trailed off, her eyes dancing between Harry and Slytherin. Harry let his head fall into his hands and tried to think. If he really was related to Slytherin through his mother's side...

"Then how come my Mum didn't speak Parseltongue?"

"We don't know if she ever got the chance to try," Hermione pointed out. "Snakes aren't exactly common, even at Hogwarts."

"Or the gift might not have fully manifested until her magic mixed with your father's in you," Gryffindor pointed out. He glanced at Slytherin. "Haven't you said before that it seems to develop in the men of your family more frequently than in the women?"

Slytherin jerked his head in a curt nod. His face was very pale, and Harry realised with a jolt that he was the only one who had yet to react to the idea. The thought made his stomach twist, but before he could say anything Slytherin finally looked round to meet his gaze. His voice was quiet enough that Harry had to strain to hear it.

"The Horcrux is gone," he said. "There is no doubt about that."

Harry swallowed. "Then..."

The implications were staggering, and he had to break off. His head was spinning, and when he tried to speak he found his mouth was bone dry. Slytherin too remained silent, but his grey eyes didn't leave Harry.

If Lily Potter really had been descended from a Squib of Slytherin's line, however indirectly, then Harry had family.

It should have been a terrifying thought, but after the last few weeks, after everything Slytherin had taught him, after everything the Founder had helped him through, after all the support and encouragement...

Harry had family.

Ron coughed. "Should we, y'know, give them a minute?"

"Quite," said Gryffindor immediately. "We will need to move to the main chamber so that I can unleash the Fiendfyre anyway."

Harry barely noticed them leave. Hermione smiled at him and Ron clapped him on the shoulder, but though Harry appreciated the comfort, he didn't take his attention from Slytherin.

Slytherin, who still didn't look at all happy about this revelation.

A slow chill crept into Harry's bones. He had never imagined anything like this, but now that he had time to process it his only feelings were of relief. Slytherin had already shown that he cared more than any of Harry's immediate family, more than most people Harry had ever known in fact. He knew more about Harry's past and his troubles than almost anyone else. If he wasn't able to accept this...

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Harry cleared his throat.

"Professor?"

Slytherin glanced at him. For a long moment his eyes searched Harry's face, then, just as Harry was really starting to worry, his grim expression relaxed.

"I will admit, I had not expected that."

Harry eyed him. "So, you're not upset?"

The honest bewilderment on Slytherin's face left his knees weak with relief. "Upset? Certainly not." He hesitated, "But, aren't you?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be confused. "What? Why would I be?"

Slytherin looked more uncomfortable than Harry had ever seen him, but he met Harry's gaze steadily. "It does mean that you are related to the man who killed your parents," he said softly. "The man who is set on killing you."

Harry blinked. He honestly hadn't thought about that. Now that he did it did produce a flicker of unease, but the knowledge that Slytherin had thought about, had cared enough to think about it, only cemented his initial reaction. He took a deep breath, and looked up.

"But I'm also related to you," he said. He paused, but he was a Gryffindor as well as a Slytherin and he forced himself to continue before he could think about it, "And if I could have chosen to be related to anyone it would have been you."

The words came out in a rush. Slytherin's eyes widened, and for a moment Harry wished he had never opened his mouth. He had only known the man a few months, it was a stupid thing to think.

Then Slytherin crossed the room in two long strides, and hesitated only a second before gripping Harry's shoulder tightly. "I might not have expected it," he whispered. "But there is no one I would be prouder to call my blood."

The ringing was back in Harry's ears, but this time he felt so light he could fly. He had family, family that actually wanted him as much as he wanted them. His vision blurred, and he blinked hard in time to see a smile on Slytherin's face, a proper one, not his usual half smirk. Slytherin's grip tightened on his shoulder.

"I may not have any direct descendants," he said. "And a hundred generations have passed, but you are family, Harry."

He said nothing else, but Harry knew that he spoke with his eyes more than anything else, and there was no doubting the sincerity in them. Harry relaxed into his touch, not caring about the almost sob of relief that escaped him. Slytherin had listened to his troubles, had saved his life, had been there when Harry thought he didn't have anyone, and now had given Harry the greatest gift of all.

Harry was no longer alone. That alone made this whole experience worthwhile.

Slytherin waited for Harry to regain his composure before speaking.

"We will talk about this later," he said gently. "For now, we have a Horcrux to destroy."

Harry had completely forgotten about the Horcrux, but as much as he wanted to process this latest revelation, he wanted to see a piece of Voldemort obliterated even more. "Yes, sir."

Still, he couldn't help smiling. A thought came to him, and his smile widened. "I suppose calling you grandfather would be inappropriate."

The corner of Slytherin's mouth twitched up. "Indeed, though it is certainly easier on the ears than many times great-uncle."

Harry pulled a face. After years with the Dursleys, calling anyone uncle left a bitter taste in his mouth. Slytherin caught his eye, and his expression softened in understanding.

"We will talk about it," he repeated. "I think the others are waiting for us."

They had been quite a long time, but under the circumstances Harry couldn't care less, and he doubted that Slytherin did either. Still, they did have to get going, so Harry reluctantly stepped aside and waited for Slytherin to precede him down the passage that led to the main chamber.

The smile didn't leave his face the whole way.

The others were all gathered together, and trying and failing to look like they hadn't been talking about them. Hermione and Ron were both beaming, but it was Gryffindor that caught Harry's attention. He too was smiling, but oddly for him it didn't seem to reach his eyes, and when he looked at Slytherin a very strange look crossed his face. Slytherin in turn seemed to be very careful not to look at him, but before Harry could puzzle on it further Gryffindor's face was all business again, and he clapped his hands.

"Right, as pleased as we all are about recent developments, let's get this done before we start celebrating. I'm assuming you all wish to stay?"

"No," said Ravenclaw dryly. "That's why we're all standing here watching you."

Gryffindor pulled a face at Slytherin. "You have been a terrible influence on her."

Slytherin just raised an eyebrow. "Yes, this was absolutely all my doing."

Hufflepuff giggled, and Ravenclaw rolled her eyes, and Ron took the opportunity to lean into Harry. "You all right, mate?" he whispered. "What did Slytherin say?"

Hermione took a step closer, her eyes alight with curiosity, and Harry had to smile at them both. "I think he was more shocked than I was, but it's good. We're good." He knew he was grinning like an idiot from the delighted looks that his friends shared, but when Hermione opened her mouth to question him further he shook his head. "Later. I want to enjoy this."

Hermione gave him a fond look, and Ron's grin widened. "This has been such a great day," he announced.

Harry honestly couldn't argue with that.

"If you three are quite finished?"

All three of them jumped, and Harry gave Gryffindor a sheepish grin. The Founder rolled his eyes, but Harry could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Sorry," Ron called. "We're paying attention."

"I certainly hope so," Gryffindor muttered.

Myrddin cocked his head to one side. "Don't worry. There are enough of us here that even if you do lose control a bit we shouldn't all be burned alive and die horribly painful deaths."

Slytherin's expression turned rather fixed, and Hufflepuff pinched the bridge of her nose. "Myrddin," she said sweetly. "Please stop talking."

Gryffindor rubbed his eyes. "No one is going to... Everyone just stay well behind all those wards Salazar so kindly put up earlier, and don't come near me until I tell you too, all right?"

There were absolutely no arguments, and within a few minutes Harry and the others were well out of harm's way at the end of the Chamber. They were rather too close to the statue of Slytherin's grandfather for Harry's liking, but between a giant snake that was firmly under Slytherin's control and incredibly powerful fire magic that was only probably under Gryffindor's control, Harry would take the Basilisk. This time. Although now that he knew his Parseltongue ability really was his, and not Voldemort's...

Harry shook his head and forced the thought away. There would be time enough for that later. For now, he turned his attention to where Gryffindor stood staring at the newly contained Horcrux.

Gryffindor took several long seconds to prepare himself. To Harry it felt like hours, but he pushed his impatience down. This was far too dangerous to do lightly. Finally Gryffindor raised his wand, and Harry braced himself.

Despite everything he had been told, part of Harry had still been expecting something like the fire he was used to. He had seen Gryffindor use some pretty impressive magic over the past few months, and he had thought that Fiendfyre would still be vaguely similar.

The inferno that burst into existence with a furious roar quickly disabused him of that notion. The flames blazed up in seconds, hot enough that Harry could feel the heat from the other end of the Chamber, and he could only stare as the flames formed recognisable shapes; snarling lions that danced with raging chimeras and dragons until it was impossible to tell where one began and another ended.

And it wasn't just the way it looked. Even behind the shields, Harry could feel the sharp, acrid burn of Dark magic. It made his jaw ache and his stomach twist, and though it was impossible the flames seemed to respond to his fear. They roared higher, fierce, angry, and somehow hungry, ever seeking to destroy everything in their path, and Harry staggered under their malevolence.

He wasn't the only one. Next to him Slytherin was shaking, and when Harry looked he found him staring transfixed at the flames, his eyes wide with terror. Without thinking about it, Harry grabbed his wrist, and glared back at the fire.

Gryffindor had it under control, he told himself fiercely. The only thing being destroyed today was Voldemort's Horcrux.

As if in answer to his thoughts, there was a sudden shriek. Harry jumped, and felt Slytherin tense, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the scene before him. For a split-second a pillar of black smoke was visible through the flames, then a giant lion's head crashed down upon it and there was only fire and rage and heat so fierce Harry felt sweat break out on his forehead.

The lions and chimeras turned, and Harry would have run if there was anywhere to run to, but before he could even try to move the inferno seemed to turn in on itself. It burned higher, reaching up to scorch the stone ceiling black, then blazed so brightly that Harry was momentarily blinded.

By the time he looked back, the fire was gone. The Chamber was icy cold, the water along the sides still bubbling, and Godric Gryffindor stood still at the end of the room.

Even as they watched, he fell to his knees.

"Godric!"

Ravenclaw didn't bother running to his side. There was a pop, and then Harry saw her appear next to her friend. A moment later, Hufflepuff followed suit. Harry took a shaky step forward, only to pause when he realised that Slytherin still hadn't moved. He stepped back, and glanced up at his teacher.

"Sir?"

Slytherin's face was bone grey, but he straightened at the unspoken question and shook his head. "It was certainly effective," he whispered.

Harry just nodded. He had seen a lot of incredible things done with magic, but never anything like that. It was equal parts awe inspiring and terrifying.

It wasn't something he would be able to do any time soon. Hopefully Dumbledore, or someone else in the Order would have the skill.

Harry refused to think about what they would do otherwise.

His musings were interrupted when Slytherin took a deep breath and straightened up.

"I am fine," he murmured. "We should see to Godric."

If Gryffindor wasn't all right then he would be in the infirmary by now and both of them knew it, but after what they had just seen, Harry was only too happy to check for himself. He checked Slytherin was steady, and the two of them followed Ron and Hermione down the hall.

By the time they got there, Gryffindor looked like he had run a mile or a dozen, but there was a distinctly satisfied gleam in his eye as he looked at the scorched stone.

"I think that was sufficient."

Slytherin rolled his eyes, but just rested a hand on his shoulder in silent support, and Harry didn't miss how Gryffindor leaned into the touch. Harry stared at the place where the Horcrux had sat, and swallowed.

"Thank you."

Gryffindor was breathing too heavily to reply, but the smile he gave Harry was answer enough. Harry let out a long breath, and leaned against the nearest pillar, letting the residual warmth soak into his bones.

"One down," said Ron. He glanced at Harry, eyes gleaming. "We really can kill him."

Hermione's smile held the same cold anticipation, and Harry nodded. The Founders had done this one part of the job for them. No matter how long it took, they would finish the rest.

Hufflepuff was still hovering over Gryffindor. "Are you sure you are all right? You spent so much magic..."

Gryffindor managed to stop gasping long enough to give her a weak smile. "I will live." He stood up slowly, with much assistance from Ravenclaw, and glanced at Salazar. "You are going to have to find another way to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes though."

Sudden silence fell. Harry thought he had misheard, but he had been looking at Slytherin when Gryffindor spoke, and there was no denying the expression on Slytherin's face, nor the sudden horror on Gryffindor's.

It was Hufflepuff who voiced the question on everyone's minds.

"Why would Salazar be the one destroying Horcruxes?"

Her voice was remarkably steady, but she was white as a sheet. Ravenclaw didn't look much better off. Myrddin was still for once, his face unreadable as he looked between them.

Harry's heart was pounding hard enough to hurt. He waited for Gryffindor to speak, for Slytherin to deny it, but deep down he knew that it would never come.

Even the stone snakes surrounding them seemed to hold their breath as they waited for the storm to break.

Notes:

For a relatively short chapter, that was really hard to write. Of course Godric knew exactly what Salazar's decision would be as soon as he realised that Harry was family. Any feedback would be very much appreciated.

Chapter 25: The Oncoming Storm

Notes:

Thank you so much for all the amazing feedback everyone! On a less pleasant note, all my deadlines are in the next few weeks, which is why I'm switching to slightly shorter updates for the remaining six chapters. Thanks again for all the support, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Chapter Text

Time seemed to stop in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry stood frozen in place, staring at the tableau before him. At the very centre stood Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. No-one would know for looking at them at that moment that they were the very closest of friends. Slytherin’s face was completely blank, and there was nothing but pain in Gryffindor’s eyes.

Neither Helga Hufflepuff, nor Rowena Ravenclaw were any better off. Both were staring at their friends, but not even the bonds of close companionship spanning decades was enough to break the stillness. Myrddin stood to one side, silent and watchful, and Ron and Hermione didn’t look capable of moving, even if they had wanted to.

As for Harry...

Frozen he might be, but on the inside his thoughts were spinning so fast he could barely track them.

Slytherin had removed the Horcrux. Slytherin was family. Slytherin had been glad that they were family.

Slytherin was thinking of accompanying them to the future.

Hufflepuff reacted first, though not in the way Harry had expected. She let out a soft, wordless cry, then there was a crack like a thundercloud and she was gone.

Slytherin visibly jumped at the noise and started forwards, but before he could follow Gryffindor caught his arm.

“Give her a moment,” he said quietly.

Slytherin stared at him, and for a moment there was such desperation in his eyes that Harry thought he would hex himself free, but the gleam faded abruptly, and Slytherin sagged in Gryffindor’s grip.

“I never wanted her to find out like that.”

Gryffindor twitched, his already ashen face paling further. “Salazar-”

“You knew.”

From the way Gryffindor and Slytherin both jumped, it was clear they had forgotten about the presence of their other friend. Ravenclaw shot the two of them a look that would have sent Harry running for the hills, and Disapparated without another word.

Gryffindor swore loudly. He ran a hand through his hair and glared at Slytherin. “I will talk to her. You-”

“I know,” Slytherin interrupted. “As soon as we are done here.”

He shot a pointed glance at where Harry and the others were standing. Gryffindor nodded once, shot a final, unreadable look at Harry, and disappeared after Ravenclaw. Slytherin’s shoulders slumped, but just as he opened his mouth, Myrddin cleared his throat loudly.

“I have business to attend to. Urgent business. On the other side of the island.” He paused. “Please don’t break anything we can’t fix.”

On that note he vanished too, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione alone in the Chamber with Slytherin.

Harry had no idea what to say. If finding out that Slytherin was related to him had been a shock, this latest revelation left him completely dumbstruck. He knew how much Slytherin cared about him, but he’d also seen his devotion to Hogwarts, and his friends and students. The idea of him leaving was impossible to comprehend.

But he had taken Voldemort’s actions personally. He had been devastated by what had been done in his name, to his school and everything that he loved. His reaction to the Horcruxes alone, and what they would have to do to be free of Voldemort, had confirmed that. And Harry knew beyond a doubt that there was nothing Slytherin wouldn’t do to protect the people he cared about.

But to even consider this...

“Is it true?”

It was Hermione who voiced the question. Her voice cracked halfway through, but she didn’t look away. Slytherin seemed to brace himself before meeting her gaze.

“I have been considering it.”

The words were nearly lost in the great Chamber, but the expression on his face was all that Harry needed.

“But you can’t leave,” Ron blurted out. His freckles stood out sharply against his pale face. “They need you here.”

“I know,” Slytherin quietly. “But there are no Horcruxes here. And I trust that my fellow teachers have the students’ best interests at heart.” He looked up at Harry, silver eyes blazing. “I am not expecting any of them to risk their lives fighting a Dark Lord.”

Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His mouth was bone dry, and he had to swallow hard before replying. “Sir...you can’t leave just for me. Us.”

Slytherin shook his head. “It is complicated.”

“Damn right it is,” said Ron flatly. “You’d hate it there! Then? They all think you’re a bigoted murderer, remember?”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed, but Slytherin just inclined his head.

“All the more reason for me to redeem my reputation.”

Harry wasn’t the only one to open his mouth to continue arguing, but when Slytherin raised a hand all three of them fell silent. Slytherin looked at them, and his grim expression softened.

“Nothing has been decided yet. We will continue this discussion later, but in the meantime I suggest you take advantage of the rest of your free day.”

Harry didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and argue, though what for he was too confused to say, but there was no denying Slytherin when his mind was made up, so Harry swallowed down his frustration and jerked his head in a nod.

“Fine, but we do need to talk. About...about everything.”

Slytherin met his gaze and nodded. “I know, and we will.” He hesitated a moment, before continuing more quietly. “Whatever happens, Harry, nothing changes what we discussed earlier.”

Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. He had lost Sirius and his offer of a home minutes after it had been made once. He didn’t think he could have borne it happening again.

Slytherin gave him a rather forced smile, then beckoned the three of them closer.

“Come, I will return you to the main castle.”

Apparation was even more uncomfortable than usual with all three of them, but everyone was too preoccupied to comment on it. Harry could practically feel Slytherin’s desperation to search out his friends, but he lingered long enough to catch Harry’s eye.

“This was not how I wanted to tell you,” he said quietly. “Remember that nothing has been decided yet.”

Harry just nodded. He had so many questions that he had no idea where to even begin. Some time to organise his thoughts before they talked about everything would be very welcome. Slytherin gave him a final reassuring squeeze to the shoulder and disappeared, leaving the three of them standing in the Entrance Hall.

“Well,” said Hermione, after they had spent a good few minutes staring at each other. “That’s one way of explaining why Slytherin would leave the school.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell...does it even work like that?”

Hermione spread her hands in a helpless shrug. Harry leaned against a pillar, his mind racing. “Can you imagine him in the future?”

Hermione’s eyes went very wide. “Facing down Voldemort...”

“The Malfoys,” said Ron at the same time. A slow grin was spreading across his face. “All their blather about blood purity and Slytherin superiority...Merlin, that would be fantastic!”

Harry’s own grin was probably just as vicious. “Potions with Snape.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “And what about everyone who hates him? Or the fact that he would be leaving everyone and everything he knows?”

Harry’s glee faded abruptly. As much as he would love for Slytherin to come with him, he could only imagine what it would be like to leave his own time. Harry was struggling enough knowing that the Founders were working to get him home. Thinking he might be stuck in a different time for good was enough to make him feel queasy.

Selfish as it was though, Harry couldn’t help but wish that Slytherin would come with them. Not because of how he would deal with Voldemort and Snape, as brilliant as that would be, but because he was one of the few adults Harry had met that had never let him down. More than that, he was someone that Harry had learned to trust and confide in, and who had helped in ways that not even Sirius had managed. He had promised to help, and so far he had actually kept his promise. Even the thought of facing Voldemort didn’t seem so daunting with Slytherin by his side.

But Slytherin had his own life, and Harry had no good reason for him to abandon everyone. He hated himself for even thinking about it. He firmly squashed down his budding hope, and shook his head.

“He can’t. They need him. He needs them.”

He himself would never be able to abandon Ron and Hermione, and Slytherin’s bonds with his friends were even stronger. Hermione was nodding in agreement, but Ron wore a faint frown.

“I don’t know, mate. He might think that you need him more.”

He did, a treacherous part of Harry insisted. The Founders at least had each other. Harry just had a bunch of adults who were more interested in keeping their secrets than in telling him the truth.

And that thought really wasn’t helping. Harry groaned and rubbed at his eyes.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” He shook his head sharply, and was reminded that he’d just gone through a crazy ritual when the pounding in his skull increased. “I need to get out of here.”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, then turned identical expressions of worry on him. “You should probably lie down,” said Hermione. “You’ve had a lot of magic going through you, and then everything else.”

“I know, but staying here isn’t going to help. I need some fresh air.”

He didn’t bother adding that he really didn’t want to run into any of the Founders right now. Based on Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw’s reactions, there were going to be fireworks. Harry was desperate to talk to Slytherin, but his teacher had more than enough on his plate. Better to wait until they had a better idea of what was happening.

Hermione still didn’t look happy, but Ron was nodding.

“We could go and join the others in Hogsmeade,” he suggested. “Just be normal students for once.”

Harry snorted, but the more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. If nothing else. Helena and the others would be a good distraction.

Speaking of which, he really needed to talk to her and William. Neither of them had mentioned his blow up over the scar questions, but things hadn’t been quite as easy as they had been. It was time he cleared the air.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. He caught Hermione’s eye, and gave her a reassuring smile. “If I do start feeling bad I’ll come back up.”

Hermione held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Harry smiled, but inside he was still a whirl of emotions. What would Slytherin do? What did Harry want him to do?

Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers.


“I am sorry.”

Helga didn’t look up, but Salazar saw her flinch and hated himself for it. He wanted to go to her, but even his good leg wouldn’t move.

Despite the warmth in Helga’s cosy office, Salazar felt like he was standing in a horde of Dementors. Thinking was impossible, let alone finding the right words.

Helga still wouldn’t look at him.

It took everything he had, but Salazar took a step closer.

“I...That was not how I would have told you.”

Helga stiffened but didn’t turn, but Salazar knew she was listening and continued anyway, “Helga. I never wanted to hurt you. Gods, that was the last thing I wanted.”

“You say that,” said Helga quietly. “Yet you still plan on leaving.”

The desolation in her words struck harder than her silence had. Salazar had to grip his staff tight to keep from staggering. “Helga, I-”

“Don’t say that you don’t know!”

Salazar did jerk back at that. Helga was glaring at him now, her sweet face white with emotion. “You would not have said something to Godric if you did not know. You would not look at Harry the way you do.” She took a step towards him, her blue eyes flashing. “You would have denied it by now.”

For the first time in a very long time, Salazar found himself at an utter loss of what to say. Helga stared at him, then her face suddenly crumpled and she looked away.

“How can you think of leaving us? What are we supposed to do without you?”

Salazar reached for her, but froze when she flinched away. He swallowed, and lowered his hand. “I am sorry,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.”

He could explain his actions. He could explain why the need to go was burning brighter and fiercer within him.

But Helga was intelligent and she knew him better than anyone and she didn’t need his explanations.

Salazar stared at the woman in loved, and knew that her heart was breaking too.


Harry pulled his cloak tighter around himself and scowled at the grey sky.

“I’m beginning to regret this idea.”

Ron grumbled agreement. Hermione just rolled her eyes. “Well, we’re here now, so there’s not much point in complaining. Where do we think they’ll be?”

Ron pulled his scarf down enough to reply. “Hengist’s tavern, if they’ve got any sense. C’mon, at least it’s warm in there.”

There were no arguments. Hengist knew how to look after his guests, and mulled wine was a more than adequate substitute for butterbeer. Harry kept an eye out as they made their way through the streets, but the few witches and wizards about seemed more interested in doing their shopping and getting out of the snow than causing trouble. Even the Order wasn’t daft enough to be out in this weather.

Still, it was a relief when they finally reached the safety of the pub. They barely had time to catch their breath and collect their drinks before a shout rang out over the babble of voices.

“Hey, over here!”

Hermione shook her head, even as a faint smile touched her lips. “I think a healthy set of lungs runs in the family.”

Harry snorted. They’d heard Sirius’ mother’s portrait enough time to know that. Pollux and Castor wore identical grins as the three of them finally forced their way through to their table.

“We were beginning to think you weren’t coming,” said Pollux.

“We had to see Professor Slytherin about something,” said Harry, with a shrug. He sat down in a free chair, and nodded to William and Helena. “You having a good day?”

William grinned at him. “It’s better than Transfiguration.”

“In your opinion,” Helena muttered. Unlike William, the look she gave Harry was decidedly frosty. Harry grimaced, checked to see that Ron and Hermione were occupying the twins, and shuffled his chair closer.

“Look, I’m sorry about the other day,” he said quietly. William stilled, and Helena’s eyes narrowed, and Harry had to resist the urge to hide his scar. “I really don’t like talking about it, or where and how I got it, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you and I’m sorry.”

His friends looked at him, then at each other, then William promptly relaxed. “Good enough for me.” His eyes locked on Harry’s. “But we both know there’s more to it. If you ever do need help, you know where to find me.”

Taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, Harry could only nod. He took a sip of his wine to steady himself, then took a deep breath and looked up at Helena.

Not for the first time, Harry reflected that facing Helena was much like being the subject of a particularly interesting experiment. Her eyes were narrowed, and he could read the tension in the set of her shoulders, and it was another minute before she replied.

“Does that mean that you will tell us why your scar currently looks more inflamed than I have ever seen it?”

Harry bit back a curse with an effort. He should have realised that having the Horcrux ripped out would leave a mark. William stiffened.

“She has a point, you know.”

His tone was light, but Harry had been in Slytherin long enough to read the undertones. He stared at the table, wondering what to possibly say. He didn’t have the energy to tell them to mind their own business, especially not just after apologising for snapping before.

Besides, there had been far too many secrets in Hogwarts lately.

“When that wizard tried to kill me, he used a really Dark curse,” he said quietly. “When Professor Slytherin looked at it, he said there were some traces of Dark magic still there.” William drew in a breath, but Harry ignored him in favour of taking another drink. The warm wine seemed to chase away some of the chill of thinking about the Horcruxes. “Today, he and Professor Hufflepuff helped get rid of it. That’s probably why it looks a bit worse than normal.”

There was a very pregnant pause, then William sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it.”

Harry gave him a small smile. William showed no indication of pressing the matter, and that was really all Harry could have hoped for for his reaction. He was clearly curious, he was a Slytherin after all, but he seemed content to wait.

Helena, though, was a Ravenclaw through and through.

“Dark magic? What did they do?” She paused, lips thinning. “Are you all right?”

Harry blinked. He had expected questions, but not that last one. “I...Yeah. Just a headache.”

Helena leaned forwards, and Harry had to resist the urge to shove his hair back a bit. “You should really be resting, Harry. Purification rituals can be extremely demanding for both the subject and the caster.”

Harry’s aching head completely agreed with her. He looked rather ruefully at his empty glass. “Yeah, but we’re heading back soon hopefully, so we had to get it done.”

There was a slight pause before Helena replied. “Back?”

Harry covered a yawn with a hand. Everything was starting to catch up with him. “Back to our own-”

“To our home,” said Ron loudly.

At the same time he stamped hard on Harry’s feet, but any irritation Harry might have felt fled as he realised just what he had been about to say. Merlin, he was being careless. He shook his head sharply, and reflected that the wine might not have been such a great idea as the throbbing increased. Maybe he should have stayed in the castle.

A single glance at Helena’s face confirmed that impression. She was looking between him and Ron with the almost hostile suspicion he hadn’t seen since their first few meetings. Ron coughed loudly.

“So, William, how’s the not blowing things up in Potions going?”

William paused before replying, and his eyes didn’t leave Harry. “Better than I expected, thanks to Harry. Even if he was considered incompetent by his previous instructor.” His voice hardened just enough to set Harry’s instincts screaming. “Something I still can’t understand, considering Slytherin is one of the best Potions Masters in the country, and he has nothing but compliments for Harry’s work.”

Harry didn’t dare look at Helena. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron looking as trapped as he felt, and Hermione and the twins had fallen silent.

“Serious encounters with Dark wizards,” said Helena finally, and the venom in her voice made Harry look up. “Experience fighting them, and having been a victim at some indeterminate time. You know as much magic as we do, despite having spent most of your lives being tutored by unheard of family members. You seem to be completely bewildered by the most common everyday events, and constantly refer to things that none of us have ever heard of.”

“Helena,” Hermione tried, but Helena remained completely focused on Harry.

“You are not normal students. What are you hiding, Harry Potter?”


 

Godric knew Rowena would retreat to her workroom. It was her sanctuary, the place where she could lose herself in magical theory and experimentation and forget the outside world completely. Often he or Helga would come looking for her, only to find that she was utterly oblivious to how much time had passed. She and Salazar were remarkably similar in many respects.

Including the inability to talk about their emotions.

He knew Rowena noticed his entrance, but she continued to stare at the parchment covering her desk. Godric waited, content to let her organise her feelings, and when she did finally speak it was without looking at him.

“This morning I made a breakthrough with the time travel magic.”

It took all Godric’s considerable self-control to keep his jaw from dropping. Rowena didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I should have been reviewing the Horcrux ritual, but an idea came to me, and it had promise. I was planning to tell our young friends once we were certain that Harry was out of danger. I thought it would give them hope.”

She looked up then, her brown eyes blazing. “Now I wish I had never attempted this enterprise.”

Godric’s heart ached for her, for himself, for all of them, but he managed a step forward. “You don’t mean that.”

Rowena gave him a bitter smile. “No, I suppose not. And yet it will still be my fault that Salazar leaves us.”

“Don’t be absurd,” said Godric sharply. “It is Salazar’s choice-”

“A choice which would be irrelevant had I not provided the means!”

Godric could see her trembling and longed to soothe her, but that wasn’t what she needed right now. Rowena had never found refuge in emotional displays. “You would not condemn our guests to live out their lives in a time which is not their own,” he said. “We swore we would do everything in our power to send them home.”

“To send them home, yes! Not to let Salazar abandon his!”

Logic was proving surprisingly ineffective, and Godric abandoned it. He stepped forward and caught her hands in his. “We don’t know that yet. It is only a thought in his mind.”

Rowena stared at him. “A thought? Godric, you know as well as I do that Salazar will never let one of his blood face such a threat alone.”

Godric had no answer for that. He had been thinking the same thing. Before today, Salazar had cared for Harry certainly, but as for a dear student. Now the boy was family, and Salazar had lost too much to risk him.

Selene and her family had more support than two other students. The choice might tear Salazar apart, but Godric already knew what it would be.

Rowena’s grip tightened, and he looked up in time to see her beautiful face pale.

“You know him better than anyone,” she whispered. “You know that he will choose them.”

Godric opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted to deny it, but he had long ago sworn never to lie to her. Anyone else, but not her.

His silence was answer enough. Rowena’s face lost what little remaining colour it held, and she took a step back.

“It’s true. He will go, and travel a thousand years into the future, and we will never see him again.”

“We don’t know that,” said Godric immediately. He gestured to the calculations covering her desk. “You know how to send them there. What is stopping them from sending him back?”

“Do you really think it is that simple, Godric? Gods, do you have any idea how much power is required for this spell? It will take all of us to get them back, and even if by some miracle they can replicate the necessary conditions in the future, how can we know that Salazar will even survive to use it? He is going to fight a war, his allies will hate him as much as they do their common enemy, and the only people he can rely on are three students!

“Don’t you understand? If he leaves, we will never see him again! He will leave us, and Helga, and no matter what we say history will come to see him as a traitor, a fanatic who left the school, and we will never be able to set things right!”

Her voice was rising with her panic, a loss of control Godric hadn’t seen from her since they were children. Every word she spoke echoed his own fears, but Godric was suddenly more preoccupied by the shaking that was overtaking her body. He stepped closer but she barely seemed to see him, and he noted with alarm that her breathing was coming fast and shallow.

There were a thousand things he could have done to calm her, but as he had so often in the past, Godric acted on instinct.

He kissed her.

Rowena froze the moment his lips touched hers. Godric drew back before she had a chance to react, but only enough to cup her face in his hands.

“We do not know what will come to pass,” he said fiercely. “If anyone can survive such an experience, it is Salazar.”

And he wouldn’t be alone. Salazar might care enough for Harry to do this, but Godric knew that Harry and his friends would repay that loyalty tenfold. The very idea still terrified him, but Godric refused to give up hope.

Then he realised that Rowena was staring at him like she had never seen him before. She raised a trembling hand to her lips.

“Godric...”

Godric swallowed, all thoughts of their discussion forgotten. “You...I apologise. That was not proper of me.”

Still, he didn’t step back. Rowena’s hair was silk against his hand, and her dark eyes captured him completely.

“It was not,” Rowena whispered.

Godric stiffened, but when he made to step away she caught his hand. “And I have been waiting for you to do it for years.”

The admission staggered him, and it took him several seconds to gather his wits. “I have been waiting longer for you to let me. But...Rowena we agreed-”

“We agreed to respect my marriage,” Rowena interrupted. “But Robert has been dead these seven years past.” She looked away, her expression turning bitter. “And we denied ourselves because we were too afraid of what might be.”

Godric swallowed, but couldn’t deny it. For all that his was the house of the brave, facing up to his own feelings had always been a very different matter. He could feel Rowena trembling slightly in his arms, but when she looked back her eyes were dry and glittering fiercely.

“We were afraid, just as Helga and Salazar were afraid, and now it is too late for them. Salazar will leave, and Helga...”

She broke off, and now Godric could see tears sparkling in her eyes. He drew her against him, burying his face in her hair.

“I know,” he whispered. His own heart broke for the two of them, who treasured each other so much, and who might never find the peace they deserved. Bitterness filled his chest, and with it a flame of something else. He drew back, and looked Rowena straight in the eye.

“I know that we have all wasted the time we were given,” he said. “And I know I don’t want to waste any more.”

This time it was Rowena who kissed him, and it was everything Godric had ever imagined. All the years of pain and heartbreak seemed to fall away until there was nothing but her.

This time it was Rowena who drew away, but her reluctance was as evident as Godric’s. She looked up at him, a rare shy smile touching her lips.

“It’s certainly different with the beard.”

Godric had to laugh, and after a moment Rowena joined him. After everything that had happened, the release was desperately needed.

Eventually the laughter faded, and Godric rested his forehead against hers.

“I do not know what the future will hold,” he whispered. “But I want to face it together.”

Rowena’s arms tightened around him. “As do I. I fear there is much still to come.”

Godric had long ago learned never to doubt a Seer.


As crowded and noisy as Hengist’s tavern was, Harry knew none of it. Helena’s question rang in his ears, and when he tore his eyes from her it was to find watching the twins watching him in confusion, and William with undisguised wariness. Ron’s freckles stood out sharply against his pale skin, and Hermione’s hand was twitching toward her wand. Harry caught her eye and shook his head; the last thing they needed was to start throwing magic around. She didn’t look happy about it but her hand relaxed in her lap and Harry saw Ron take it in his.

The byplay steadied him enough to meet Helena’s gaze.

“We were in trouble,” he said quietly. “We didn’t mean to come here, but Professor Slytherin and the others gave us sanctuary, and have been teaching us what we need to know to survive.”

Helena’s eyes widened slightly, but it was William who spoke. “Then why not tell us that?”

The hurt in his words was hidden but definitely there, and Harry sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Ron snorted softly. “Understatement of the century.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that. William cocked his head to one side. “Even your speech is different. Would we understand a word you say without translation charms?”

“Probably not,” Harry admitted. “We’re...not from around here.”

“But you must have been to Hogwarts before,” Pollux interrupted. He looked hard at Ron. “You knew every shortcut I tried to show you, and there were a few I didn’t know.”

“They did spend the summer here,” Castor pointed out, but Helena was already shaking her head.

“One summer isn’t enough to know our home as well you do. Can you explain that?”

Harry shot a quick look at Ron and Hermione. Ron gave him a helpless shrug. Hermione took a deep breath, and leaned forward to look at Helena.

“Not really,” she said honestly. “But we can tell you that we don’t mean any harm to Hogwarts or any of its inhabitants.”

Ron goggles at her. “What? They can’t really think...” Then his voice trailed off as he took in the expressions on their friends’ faces.

“Why not?” asked William evenly. “We know nothing about you. I doubt that you could deceive our teachers, but your lack of transparency does not inspire trust.”

Harry winced. There were definitely some hurt feelings there. “I know, but we couldn’t say anything. Not without sounding like lunatics, at least.” William opened his mouth, but Harry wasn’t finished, “You’re right. Professor Slytherin and the others know everything. They found out the first time we met them. We asked for their help, and they have given us,” memories of Gryffindor’s training and Hufflepuff’s kindness and Ravenclaw’s teachings and the smile on Slytherin’s face as he named them family flashed before his eyes and his breath caught for a moment, “they have given us so much more than we ever expected.”

Silence met his words. Harry took a deep breath, and looked each of them in the eye. “Hogwarts is our home. I would die before doing anything to harm it.”

He turned to Helena last. She had been the most reluctant to accept them in the first place, and was now the least likely to believe them but he had to try. There was no mistaking the doubt in her eyes.

Surprisingly though, she said nothing. Harry didn’t dare look away. Whether they recognised it or not, William, Castor and Pollux all followed Helena’s lead. Whatever happened next would depend on her.

Or it would have, if the next thing that happened hadn’t been someone bursting through the door screaming at the top of their voice,

“Fire! Fire!”

There was immediate panic. Harry was on his feet before he had fully realised what was happening, but the moment he did he turned to Hermione. “You looked up the Flame-Freezing Charm in third year, didn’t you?”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she bolted for the door, Ron close on her heels. Harry was about to follow when Helena caught his arm in a vice-like grip. “Flame-Freezing Charm?”

“Third year?” said William at the same time.

Harry wrenched his arm free and started for the door. “Later,” he called over his shoulder. “We need to deal with this before it spreads through the whole village!”

He didn’t wait for their reply. He forced his way through the panicking crowd, feeling a twinge of guilt for being relieved at being able to put off the awkward conversation, before the seriousness of the situation sank in. There was no way of getting out proper explanations now. Hopefully the Founders wouldn’t be too annoyed at them.

But there was a fire to stop, and Harry put everything else out of his mind.

The icy wind left him momentarily stunned after the cramped tavern, but Harry barely had time to register the discomfort before he was racing after his friends. Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight, but there was a steady stream of witches and wizards running to help and it was easy to join them. There were more than enough of them to handle a fire, but the risk was too great to ignore.

“Help! Help me!”

For a moment, Harry thought the cries were coming from ahead of him, but a glance round had him skidding to a halt. Across the street, a black-cloaked figure was dragging a boy half Harry’s size towards an alley. In the chaos caused by the fire, the pair had gone unnoticed, and Harry’s adrenaline-boosted fury came surging up.

Harry had been practicing hard over the last few months. His silent Stunning Spell was enough to send the boy’s assailant flying several metres through the air. Harry ran over, and spared the downed wizard only a brief glance before turning to the boy.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The boy just gaped at him. Harry crouched down and offered his best reassuring smile. “Are you a Hogwarts student?”

He looked a bit young, but he already knew the Founders accepted children of all ages. The boy continued to stare mutely at him though, and Harry felt his smile fade. “Can you understand me?” The translation charms should still be working, they reapplied them every time they left Hogwarts, but the boy’s expression was completely blank.

Harry’s instincts were screaming at him. He stood up, grip tightening on his wand, and scanned the alley again. The wizard was still incapacitated. There was no one in sight. The best thing would be to take the boy to Hengist, and then go and find the others.

He turned back to the boy and found himself facing a drawn wand. Unnaturally blank eyes bored into his, and Harry knew no more.


 

 

 

Chapter 26: For Family

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ron had been wary of Salazar Slytherin from the start. In his defence, he had heard a lot more tall tales about the Founders than either of his friends, and he had changed his opinion as it became clear that the bloke in the stories was nothing like the real Slytherin. It had even gotten to the point that he couldn't be happier that his best mate was related, even distantly, to the infamous wizard.

Still, he had never forgotten that Slytherin was one of the most dangerous wizards in history. The wizard's current expression would have sent him running to the hills if he hadn't been too terrified to move.

"What do you mean he disappeared?"

Ron could barely meet his eyes, so his admiration for Hermione only increased when she was able to answer.

"We-we think the fire was set as a diversion. We were separated in the crowds, and..."

She trailed off, voice tight with fury, and Ron's own hands clenched into fists. He hadn't stopped berating himself for not spotting the trick in time, and he wouldn't for a long time yet. If Harry was hurt, he never would.

At least Slytherin looked like he was feeling it just as deeply. Ron shivered as a wind tugged at his hair, and he had to fight down the instinct to step away. Not that there was anywhere to go. The other Founders were radiating as much magic as Slytherin in their own ways, and the atmosphere was stifling.

"Are we sure it's the Order?"

It was Castor who asked the question, and Ron silently thanked his fellow Gryffindor. His feelings weren't shared by Helena, who snorted.

"He's not stupid enough to leave without telling anyone, and who else would be targeting a Hogwarts student now?" Her eyes were boring into her mother's. "What I want to know is why."

Ron shifted, but before anyone could say anything, William spoke up. "It must have something to do with where the three of you came from. The Order has never tried to take individual students before."

Ron groaned. In the panic of losing Harry, he'd completely forgotten about their carelessness catching up to them. Slytherin shot them an incredulous look.

"Exactly what part of 'be discreet' was difficult for you to comprehend?" He shook his head sharply. "We don't have time for this."

"Salazar," Ravenclaw began, but Slytherin ignored her in favour of fixing the four students with a fierce stare.

"I will say this once, and then we will save all discussion until after the current crisis has passed. These three have come from the future. They have proved their tale beyond doubt, and have been training with us so that they can defeat a Dark wizard that is terrorising their society." He glared at them. "Any questions?"

William was smart enough to shake his head, his eyes narrowed in concentration, but Helena and the twins looked sceptical. Ravenclaw laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "It is true," she said. "I have been trying to find a way to return them to their own time."

"And in the meantime we have been giving them what support we can," said Gryffindor. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, as it had been since he had heard the news, and the air around him was several degrees warmer than anywhere else. "Now, if we could get back to the matter at hand?"

Helena in particular looked like she was bursting with questions, but she dipped her head. "What will they do to Harry?"

Ron felt bile rise in his mouth. He'd heard stories of what Death Eaters did to captured enemies, and from the sounds of it, the Order were just as bad as the worst of Voldemort's scum. They had to find Harry, and fast.

"But why go after Harry in the first place?" he wondered out loud. "I could understand it back home, but he's just a normal student here."

William snorted. "A normal student who's probably the best duellist under twenty in the school."

"Yeah, but they won't care that much about that," said Ron impatiently. "All the adults here are more dangerous than we are." He ran a hand through his hair. "And if they wanted someone as a distraction, or some kind of leverage, then they'd have been better off picking an easier target."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, but a fleeting smile touched Gryffindor's lips. "I agree with your reasoning."

Normally that kind of compliment would have left Ron beaming. As it was, he was too busy wracking his brains to really pay attention. Why was it always Harry?

He was so deep in thought that he almost didn't notice Hufflepuff stiffen. She made an aborted movement in Slytherin's direction before stopping short, her hands clenching into fists.

"Salazar?" she said quietly. "What is it?"

Ron spun round, and almost took a step back. The fury that had occupied Slytherin's features was nothing compared to the sheer desolation on his face at that moment. Gryffindor drew in a sharp breath and started forward, but Slytherin jerked back without looking at him.

"I know why they took him," he whispered. The wind around him picked up, but his words echoed like a thunderclap in Ron's ears. "We must find him, before it is too late."


Harry was no stranger to getting into trouble. It had started before he turned two, and had been a fairly regular occurrence since. He was even getting used to being kidnapped, though he somehow doubted it was something he would ever be comfortable with.

Still, at least this time it wasn't a graveyard.

For a moment, Harry could only lie still and try to make sense of his own stupidity. How could he have been so careless? Even if he was more confident in his own abilities than he ever had been in his life, he knew better than to go off alone, and especially not when he was more than a little bit tipsy. Merlin, he was lucky he hadn't gotten himself killed.

But he had only been Stunned, and Harry was more than capable of putting aside the residual fuzziness to take proper stock of his surroundings. Not that it helped much, there was nothing to see beyond plain stone walls. There wasn't even a window. He wasn't restrained at least, but a quick check showed that both his wands were missing. The loss was a wrench; even the blackthorn wand he was still so wary of would have been useful. He tried to Apparate, but wasn't particularly surprised when his efforts were stifled by a thick blanket of magic.

The one bright side was that the cell was just large enough that Harry could stretch out his muscles properly. He went over to study the door, but his hopes of sneaking his way out were soon dashed. It wasn't a door so much as a solid block of stone, with no sign of a lock. Harry glared at it for a moment, before pacing to the back of the cell and settling himself against the wall. There was no point in wasting his energy trying to break out of a place that had clearly been designed to hold things much stronger than him. An opportunity would come, he just had to be ready to take it.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed. Harry tried to wait patiently, but soon found himself shivering as the temperature dropped, and resorted to pacing up and down. The cell was only large enough for five or six steps, but it was better than nothing, especially since his captors had taken his warm winter cloak.

One thing was clear; whoever had him knew what they were doing. Harry was almost certain that it was the Order behind this, but if Slytherin had taught him anything it was to never make assumptions.

Thinking of Slytherin made Harry remember their earlier conversation, and for a moment the chill of the cell seemed to fade. Slytherin knew he was in trouble, and so did Ron and Hermione and all the others, and they were coming for him. He just had to hold on until they got there. Easier said than done, perhaps, but Harry trusted his friends. He took a deep breath, and settled himself down to meditate. Strengthening his Occlumency defences seemed like a very good idea right now.

Harry was in the middle of selecting some particularly horrible images to bombard a potential attacker with when the air suddenly hummed with magic. Harry was on his feet immediately, and shifted so that he was standing against the back wall. He felt horrible vulnerable without his wands, and his hands clenched into fists. Maybe he would get a chance to do something. The stone slab swung open with a deep groan, and a wizard stepped inside.

He didn't look like anything special. He was tall, dressed in brown robes that came down to the floor, and held a wand loosely in a tanned hand. More disconcerting was the hood pulled low over his face so that his eyes were hidden.

More impressive was the magic that crackled about him like a wild beast.

It took every ounce of control gained from spending so much time with the Founders, but Harry didn't flinch from the man's overwhelming presence. Instead he straightened, forcing down his fear until only his anger was visible, and met the wizard's gaze steadily.

He was almost expecting the silent full Body-Bind Curse that left him frozen in place and unable to speak, but the amused twitch of the man's lips was a shock.

"Oh yes," he murmured. "You're certainly one of Salazar's."

Harry was suddenly very grateful that he was cursed. At least was no way his body could betray his reactions. There was a sudden burst of sharp pressure against his mind, but Harry had been expecting that. The wizard's resulting flinch was only almost unnoticeable.

If he could, Harry would have grinned. After fighting off Slytherin for months, anyone else had to do a lot better than that to present a challenge. As it was, he just glared at his captor.

The wizard regarded him in silence for a moment, and Harry braced himself for a second assault. He wasn't disappointed; this time the intrusion was so light he barely felt it, but his mental labyrinth held and he opened his eyes in time to see the wizard take a step back. Harry's jaws were still frozen shut, but he summoned all the contempt and insolence he could muster and glared. It was an expression that had earned him more than one detention from Snape.

Oddly enough, the man's smile widened.

"And here I was thinking he was wasted as a teacher."

The next thing Harry knew he was falling forwards as the magic supporting him suddenly vanished. He caught himself before his face hit the floor, scraping his hands on the rough stone, and immediately shoved himself back upright.

"Who are you?" he snarled. "What the hell do you want?"

Every instinct urged him to lunge forward, but Harry checked himself. He was still unarmed, and even with all the training he had been doing he wasn't stupid enough to think that he could make a grab for the wand before being cursed again. Instead, he used his freedom to ease the kinks from his abused muscles, all the while never taking his eyes from his captor.

The blasted man was still smirking.

"My name is unimportant." Harry opened his mouth, but the man didn't give him a chance to interrupt, "And you are going to tell me everything you know about Horcruxes."


Hermione had always understood that courage was not the absence of fear, but rather the overcoming of it. It was something she had been practicing regularly ever since her first year at Hogwarts, and her recent excursion to the distant past had been no exception. After the trolls, Dementors, and homicidal Dark wizards, she had certainly earned her place in Gryffindor's house.

Only a complete imbecile would look at the black storm clouds filling the sky and not be afraid at all.

Ron took her hand in silence. Neither of them dared to speak. William looked like he would have run for cover, if there was anywhere that could be called safe now, and the twins were trembling. Even Helena had gone very pale.

It was Professor Gryffindor who stepped forward.

"Salazar. Enough."

Slytherin didn't move. "He was taken because of me." The wind picked up, and Hermione had to strain to catch his words. "Because of what they think he is."

"You do not know that," Gryffindor began, but he fell silent when Slytherin's staff slammed against the ground.

"What other reason could they have for taking him?"

Gryffindor had no answer for that. Hermione stared at the two of them, ignoring the worry and fury turning her stomach. She didn't know what they were talking about, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seemed to be the only others following the argument, but she did know that there weren't many things that could scare her teachers like that.

Ron's hand tightened on hers for a moment before he stepped forward.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ron," Helena hissed, but Hermione cut her off with a glare.

"Our best friend is missing. We deserve to know why." She stepped up to join Ron, and fixed Gryffindor with her best Prefect stare. "Tell us what's going on. Please."

Slytherin didn't move. Gryffindor frowned, but paused when Ravenclaw laid a hand on his arm. "She is not wrong," she murmured. "They need to know. They need to understand."

Ron started to open his mouth, but Hermione caught his eye and shook her head. There was nothing they could say that would change Slytherin's mind, but their teachers... Hufflepuff looked at the two of them and nodded, then stepped up Slytherin's other side.

"Tell them, Salazar. Or I will."

Hermione held her breath, but though Slytherin twitched his eyes didn't leave Hufflepuff's. Something passed between the two of them, something Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to understand, until finally Slytherin's shoulders slumped. He ran a hand through his hair, and turned to Hermione and Ron.

"They think he is a Horcrux."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Ron's grip tightened to the point of being painful, but Slytherin wasn't finished.

"They knew that I was seeking information about Horcruxes. Specifically about Horcruxes that had been sealed inside a living person. They knew that I had an interest in Harry that went beyond that of a normal student."

"What?" Ron demanded. "How could they possibly know that?"

Slytherin's face twisted into a snarl so savage that Hermione had to fight against taking a step back. "I have an idea."

"Wait," Helena interrupted. "I don't know what Horcruxes are, but why is it so important that Harry has a connection with you?"

Hermione pieced it together a moment before Slytherin spoke, "Because they think he is my Horcrux. And they think that they cannot kill me while he still lives."


Harry's head felt like it was about to explode.

He was good at Occlumency now. He was very good. He was good enough that Snape would probably have an aneurysm. That didn't mean that holding off a skilled and experienced Legilimens was easy. Harry had long since lost track of time, but the same single-mindedness that had stood him in such good stead against Voldemort was still serving him well.

He was not giving in to someone who had kidnapped him. Especially not when they wanted to know about Horcruxes.

The pressure faded, and Harry caught the wall to keep himself from falling.

"That the best you've got?" he spat. "Slytherin's more of a challenge when he's half-asleep."

His captor snorted. "Probably. I, however, have all the time in the world, and nowhere I would rather be."

Harry bit his lip. That was a problem. He had no doubts that Slytherin and the others would find him, but he also knew that he couldn't hold out forever. And that was even without the possibility that his captor would move on to other methods of persuasion.

The enemy wizard sighed, and Harry wrenched his attention back. "I can understand why you are trying so hard to keep his secrets. He must have impressed upon you the importance of secrecy in this endeavour."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. This was different. The wizard continued, his eyes never leaving Harry's, "But we already know the truth. All you have to do is confirm that you are the only one, and we will make it swift and painless."

"Confirm what?" Harry asked slowly.

The man's smile held no trace of humour. "Why are you even defending him? What kind of monster would seal a piece of his own soul into a living person?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat as everything sank into place. They thought he was still a Horcrux. More importantly, they thought he was Slytherin's Horcrux. How they had come to that conclusion was a mystery, but that didn't matter right now. If he couldn't convince them that he wasn't, then he was a dead man.

But they did know that there was something between him and Slytherin. Harry wouldn't have put so much effort into keeping them out of his head otherwise. They wouldn't believe that there was no secret. Harry's mind was racing faster than it had in the graveyard. There had to be something he could do with this.

The answer came to him like a bolt of lightning. Harry barely had time to shuffle his mental defences before the man struck again.

He had to be careful. His mental mazes had held up well so far, and if he dropped them too suddenly it would be suspicious. Instead he started with flashes. Moments of working alone with Slytherin, spending time on Potions or Occlumency, all the times Slytherin had helped him work through his anger issues, the faint smile Slytherin reserved just for him...

The wizard took the bait. Harry led him on, pulling up more memories of all the time he had spent getting to know Slytherin over the past six months. His captor followed the trail, examining each memory with a fascination that made Harry's skin crawl, but he kept going. Harry gathered all his strength and forced the invasion from his mind, but not before releasing one more second of memory.

This time it was the enemy who staggered, but a slow smile was spreading across his face.

"Grandfather?"

Harry's heart leapt, but he kept his glare in place. "Get out of my head!"

"Oh, I don't think so," the wizard purred. "Isn't this an interesting turn of events?"

"I don't know what you saw," Harry began, but the man silenced him with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"Don't look so worried, I know you're not a Horcrux. He wouldn't risk you. No, you're something much more interesting." He stepped back, shaking his head. "To think, he's kept it a secret all these years. No one even knew he had a child, let alone you."

Harry tried to speak, but the spell was still in effect and when he tried to move forward he was hit by another Body Bind Curse.

"It must have been while he was travelling," said the wizard thoughtfully. "It was more than four decades ago, and I always knew Gryffindor was a bad influence." He shook himself and looked back at Harry. "Well, this gives us so many more options."

Harry's sense of relief faded. That did not sound good.


They had relocated to the antechamber behind the Great Hall. The younger children had been secured in the Room of Requirement with the less warlike teachers. The oldest and most skilled students, including Castor and Pollux, had been tasked with retrieving the stragglers from Hogsmeade, and ravens had been sent to their allies requesting aid. Myrddin had returned from wherever he had disappeared to, for once with a demeanour befitting the seriousness of the situation. Hogwarts was preparing for an attack.

Ron had tried to help. He had escorted the youngest Hufflepuffs to safety, and had helped check that the Infirmary was fully stocked, but he hadn't been able to concentrate. Not when his best friend was still missing.

Now he was back with the Founders, and only the fact that Gryffindor looked a fraction away from committing homicide was stopping him from exploding. Myrddin was leaning against the wall, spinning his wand between his fingers. Ravenclaw had a hand on Gryffindor's shoulder and was talking quietly to him, and as Ron entered with Hufflepuff she broke off to frown at them.

"Do you have everything you need?"

"I think so," said Hufflepuff wearily. "Salazar brought up more Potions, and my Herbology students have been helping to restock." She glanced round the room, and her shoulders tensed. "Where is Salazar?"

"And Hermione?" Ron added. It took all his self-control to keep his voice level; he knew she was safe, but with Harry missing...

"She is fine," said Ravenclaw. "She was helping Helena check the towers, but they should be joining us shortly." Her eyes darkened as she looked at Hufflepuff. "But I have not seen Salazar since he went to replenish your supplies."

"He hasn't left the grounds," Gryffindor growled. His hand was still on his sword hilt, but he managed a smile at Ravenclaw. "He'll be back soon. Hopefully with some sort of plan."

The tension in the room immediately shot up. Ron's hand went to the wand in his pocket, but before he could say anything Myrddin pushed himself off from the wall. "He has an idea. I don't know what, but I don't think we are going to like it."

Gryffindor scowled. "What a surprise." He ran a hand through his hair, and looked back at everyone else. "What else do we need to do?"

Ravenclaw opened her mouth, then stopped short. Her eyes glazed over with one of her prophetic visions, and Gryffindor immediately held up a hand. No one needed the warning. Myrddin slipped out the room, only to return a moment later with a pitcher of wine and some goblets. Ron took a step closer just as Ravenclaw let out a long sigh and looked up.

Hufflepuff was immediately by her side. "Rowena?"

Ravenclaw squeezed her hand with trembling fingers, but it was Gryffindor she looked to.

"Godric," she said, in a voice that was a little too measured to be natural, "how many of our students can perform an adequate Patronus Charm?"

Ron's stomach lurched. Gryffindor's face drained of colour. "They are sending Dementors against us? Against our children?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Hufflepuff whispered. She looked like she was about to be sick. Myrddin poured her a glass of wine too, and she took it with a shaking hand.

Gryffindor shook his head. "To answer your question, only two students have been able to create a corporeal Patronus. A number have managed incomplete ones, which they have been tasked to work on, but I do not know how much progress they have made." His eyes hardened. "And performing it in class is very different to doing so against a Dementor."

Ron nodded. He could attest to that. This had the potential to go very bad very quickly.

The heavy silence was broken by the return of Hermione and Helena. William brought up the rear, and nodded respectfully to the Founders.

"The dungeons are secure."

"And there's no one in the towers," Helena added.

"Has there been any word about Harry?" Hermione asked. Then she took in the atmosphere and crossed to Ron's side. "What's going on?"

Ron swallowed. "They're sending Dementors."

Hermione swore. Helena and William both paled, but Gryffindor shook his head. "The situation is not as dire as it first appears. They will not be able to cross the wards without serious effort, and I doubt they will be prepared for the Patronus Charm. Speaking of which," he added, focusing on Helena, "we will need your assistance. Only you and Sigrun were able to produce corporeal Patronuses."

Helena looked like she was going to faint, but then she looked at her mother and her eyes hardened. "We will do everything we can."

Ravenclaw rose to her feet, waving off Gryffindor's offer of assistance, and crossed the room to draw her daughter into a hug. "I know you will."

Ron glanced at Hermione. He knew how worried she was about Harry, but he also recognised the set of her shoulders, and the tight line of her mouth. He had been on the receiving end of that look far too many times. In any other circumstances, he might just pity it's target, but Harry had been missing for hours and Ron just wanted him back. Whatever it took. He sighed, and looked at the Founders.

"What are we going to do about Harry?"

The three of them looked at each other, but as if he had been waiting for the right moment the door opened and Slytherin swept into the room. Ron cast a quick glance out the window, but the evening sky was clear but for a few scattered clouds. Slytherin shut the door, and turned back to his friends.

"I just received a letter," he said, without preamble, "from the Order, confirming that they have Harry."

Multiple gasps met his words, and Ron's stomach twisted itself into knots, but Slytherin wasn't finished, "And they promise him a slow and painful death unless I surrender myself to them."

"What?"

"Absolutely not," Gryffindor thundered. His wand was in his hand, and Ron gasped at the waves of heat rolling off him. Slytherin, though, met his gaze steadily.

"I am not going to get myself killed, Godric."

"I know, because you are not going."

"Enough, Godric," Ravenclaw interrupted. "Let him speak." Gryffindor subsided, still fuming, and she turned gimlet eyes on Slytherin. "And if we are not completely satisfied with what you suggest then we will find another way."

Ron hardly dared to breathe. They couldn't lose Harry. Slytherin wouldn't let them lose Harry. But this...

Slytherin drew a tightly rolled piece of parchment from his belt, and handed it to Ravenclaw. "They wish to meet me at sunset, by the church of Harrowdale," he said. "From there, they will take me to Harry." His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "After they incapacitate me, of course."

Helena let out a soft cry and clapped a hand over her mouth. Slytherin shot her a faintly apologetic look, but his voice remained rock steady. "They will not kill me. And at least this guarantees Harry's safety."

"But you can't be sure of that," Hermione interrupted. "How do we know that Harry isn't... Did they send any proof that he's alive?"

"I know how they think," said Slytherin quietly. His grip tightened on his staff. "After everything that has happened between us, they will not be satisfied with just killing me. And they know how much my students mean to me. They will want me there to witness his death."

Ron fumbled for Hermione's hand and gripped it tight. Slytherin wasn't saying anything Ron hadn't already suspected, but his matter of fact way in which Slytherin discussed his and Harry's murders made Ron feel sick to his stomach. Judging from the red flush spreading across Gryffindor's face, and the deathly pallor of Ravenclaw's, they weren't the only ones.

Hufflepuff still looked worse. Ron could only the bear the pain in her blue eyes for a moment before he had to look away.

"Uncle..." Helena whispered.

Slytherin tore his gaze from Hufflepuff, and rested a hand on his niece's shoulder. "I am sorry, but we must face the facts."

"Perhaps, but I have yet to hear any sort of plan," Myrddin put in. For once there was no trace of his usual amiability, and the set of his jaw betrayed his growing anger as he glared at his head of house. "I never took you for one to lie down and die, sir."

Ron's jaw dropped. Even for Myrddin, that was over the line. William actually took a step back, but Slytherin just raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, and I do not intend to. But I cannot do it alone." He finally looked back at Gryffindor. "I will need help."

A flurry of conflicting emotions crossed Gryffindor's face, before he let out a deep breath and nodded. "You want us to extract you and Harry. We can use our rings to track you to wherever they are holding Harry."

Ron drew in a sharp breath. "You can do that?"

"It was one of the first enchantments we added to them," said Hufflepuff. She was still horribly pale, but a spark of hope had flickered to life in her eyes. "I very much doubt that they will be able to block it."

Ron didn't either, but even as he thought about it he saw the problem. He hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject, but before he could open his mouth Slytherin shook his head.

"They will not, but the three of you will have to remain here." Gryffindor's eyes flashed but Slytherin continued before he could interrupt, his voice soft but implacable. "You know as well as I do that they will take this opportunity to attack. All of you will be needed here."

"You will need us," Gryffindor muttered, but his protests lacked fire. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "And we know that an attack is coming. Rowena Saw Dementors."

What little colour remaining in Slytherin's face drained away. Hufflepuff took a step towards him but again stopped short, her hands clenching into fists. "We are ready for them," she said. "They know that we are capable of driving Dementors away, but they do not know about the Patronus Charm. We can protect the students." She bit her lip. "But Salazar-"

"It will not be a problem," Slytherin assured her.

"But there's no way of tracking you without the rings," Hermione said. "How are we going to find you both?"

Ron bit his lip, and saw Helena and William exchange scared looks. As hard as he tried, he just couldn't see a way of tracking Slytherin and Harry without one of the Founders accompanying them, but that would put the students in danger, but without them would they even be able to rescue Harry and Slytherin without the Founders' ridiculous amount of power...

Then Gryffindor's head snapped up, and he gasped at Slytherin.

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you are."

"I wish I could," said Slytherin dryly, "but it is our only option." He turned to the corner of the room. "Don't you agree, Myrddin?"

"Me?" Myrddin spluttered.

Ron stared at him. Even during the Horcrux extraction ritual, Myrddin had shown complete confidence in his own abilities. There was no trace of cockiness in him now.

"You," Slytherin confirmed.

"But I've never done this before! And this is no time for making mistakes."

"You don't make mistakes," said Ravenclaw sharply, as Gryffindor's hands clenched into fists. "And you are always doing things that no one else has ever done. I don't see why this will be any different."

"What we mean to say," Hufflepuff interrupted, with a sharp glance at her friends, "is that we trust you. We know you can do this."

Myrddin did not look convinced. William nudged him. "She's right. Also, you have to. Harry needs you to, and so will Professor Slytherin."

"Easy for you to say," Myrddin muttered. "They're not asking you to track anyone across the country."

Slytherin sighed, and crossed the room to rest a hand on his former student's shoulder. "You learned how to access those enchantments when you were fourteen," he said calmly. "And if you can do so within Hogwarts, then you will have no trouble with whatever they have constructed."

Myrddin held his gaze for a long moment, then dipped his head in a bow. When he looked up, all traces of uncertainty were gone. "I won't let you down, sir."

Slytherin gave him a small smile, then turned to Ron. "Helga will be needed here, but you are one of the best healers we have. I will need you to accompany Myrddin."

Ice flooded Ron's stomach at the thought of why his healer skills might be needed, but he nodded. He wouldn't be anywhere else. Hermione drew herself up, but Slytherin forestalled her with a glance. "I would not dream of asking you to stay behind."

"Good," said Hermione firmly. Her grip tightened on Ron's hand, and he nodded again.

"We'll get Harry back. We'll get both of you out."

Slytherin didn't smile, but his gaze softened. Hufflepuff's eyes were very bright as she looked at the two of them. "Your Patronuses will be missed, but Harry will need you more. Be careful."

"We will," Hermione promised.

"Good. In that case-"

"I'm coming too."

Ron had thought he was too wound up to be surprised any more. He was glad he wasn't the only one that ended up gaping at William.

Slytherin recovered first. "William-"

"I know it will be dangerous," said William. He was very pale, but there wasn't as much as a quaver in his voice when he spoke. "I understand that we will be facing an unknown amount of enemies, all of whom are experienced practitioners of the Dark Arts, and that we will not be able to rely on back-up. I know the risks, and I don't care."

Gryffindor stared at him for a moment, then glanced at the other Founders. Ravenclaw's eyes narrowed as she studied the boy, but she jerked her head in an abrupt nod. Hufflepuff bit her lip.

"You have only fought in one battle. Are you sure?"

"I am. And I have trained with Harry and Safdar and all of you. I can do this."

Hufflepuff did not look happy, but she just turned to Slytherin. "He is your student. It is your decision."

Slytherin's jaw tightened. Out of the corner of his eye Ron saw clouds gather as Slytherin cleared his throat. "Why?"

Ron stepped out of the line of fire, dragging Hermione with him. Helena, who had started to open her mouth, snapped it shut. William continued to meet his teacher's gaze steadily. "Because he's my friend. Because he got sucked into a war that he never should have been part of. Because I want to help."

Ron held his breath. William was a good duellist, and the extra wand would help, but it was going to be dangerous. Hermione was frowning. "We don't know what we're going to be facing," she said. "And they want to kill us."

"I know," said William calmly. "But Harry would do the same for us."

Ron huffed out a laugh. "Damn right he would." He glanced over at Slytherin. "Sir?"

Slytherin's hand clenched on his staff, but after a moment his shoulders slumped. He sighed, and ran a hand over his face. "Very well, but be careful. All of you," he added, fixing Ron and Hermione with a sharp look. "Losing any of you would destroy Harry as surely as the Order would."

Ron glanced at Hermione, feeling slightly sick. He would do anything for Harry, but he also knew that Harry would never want them to get hurt for him either. Hermione's lips thinned.

"We're all coming back safe," she said.

The Founders exchanged grim looks, but Ron couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up. He recognised that tone. Hermione Granger on a mission was a match for anything that might try to stand against them. He glanced at William, and smiled.

"Good to have you with us."

Helena raised her head, eyes flashing, but a look from her mother forestalled her.

"No, Helena," said Ravenclaw. "You are not going."

"Mother-"

"No. You know the Patronus Charm, and you know Hogwarts better than almost anyone. We need you here."

Helena hesitated, her eyes darting from her mother to the rest of her family. Ron eyed her warily, convinced she was going to throw a fit, but to his surprise she bowed her head. "Very well," she said quietly. "But," she added, fixing William with a piercing glare, "every one of you had better come back home."

William managed a pale echo of his usual grin. "That's the plan."

His words fell flat in the stifling atmosphere. Ron shifted from foot to foot, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Myrddin suddenly clapped his hands.

"Well, let's get to it then. We've got less than an hour." He glanced at Ravenclaw. "And I would like to go over a couple of details of these rings of yours."

Ravenclaw nodded curtly. She rested a hand Slytherin's shoulder for a moment, before following Myrddin from the room. Hufflepuff sighed. "I will see to the students. Helena?"

"I'll come with you," said Helena promptly. "They seemed to be all right earlier, but we should think of something to keep them busy. But I'll be back to see you all off," she added, with a small smile at William, Ron and Hermione. She trailed out, muttering to herself under her breath, but Hufflepuff lingered by Slytherin. She said something to him that Ron couldn't quite catch, but Slytherin caught her hand and pressed a fleeting kiss to it before stepping away, and his eyes followed her as she left.

Gryffindor started after her then hesitated, his eyes locking on Slytherin's. "Myrddin is powerful, but it will still take them time to reach you," he said quietly. "You know what they will do to you."

Slytherin met his gaze without flinching. "I do, but that will probably save both my life, and Harry's. They will want to enjoy it." His eyes narrowed. "And the more they focus on me, the better off Harry will be."

Ron opened his mouth, then closed it again. The acceptance in Slytherin's voice left him feeling sick, which was only exacerbated by the tiny flicker of relief. Slytherin would keep Harry safe, no matter what the cost.

Ron swallowed, and squeezed Hermione's hand quickly before racing after Hufflepuff.

"Professor," he called. "I need your help with something before we go."

Hufflepuff just nodded. "I thought you might." She took a deep breath. "There are two spells you will need to know, though I pray that you never have to use them."

So did Ron. Unfortunately he doubted it. Harry's luck had never been that good.


Harry had been left alone. His captor had left soon after his false revelation, leaving Harry to stew over his actions. He had managed to delay his own murder, and he knew from experience that even the smallest delay could make all the difference, but he couldn't help obsessing over what his captors would do with the information he had given them.

He did know that they wanted Slytherin dead. And he also knew that Slytherin would do anything to keep him safe. And that was without considering Ron and Hermione.

Harry groaned, and rested his aching head in his hands. All he could do was pray that his friends would be careful.

How long he sat in the dark for he didn't know, but it wasn't long before footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. He pushed himself up, but couldn't muster the energy to be surprised when his limbs were secured with invisible bonds before the door even opened.

It was the same wizard from before, but he wasn't alone. Standing slightly behind him was another figure, also hooded and cloaked. Neither stepped inside, but before Harry could say anything the first wizard cleared his throat.

"You will be pleased to know that we believe you. You are not the Horcrux of Salazar Slytherin."

"Thanks," Harry spat.

Both his visitors ignored him. Harry glared at them. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. You're still going to kill me."

It was hardly the first time he had dealt with Dark wizards after all. The wizard raised an eyebrow. "Of course. But not yet."

Harry frowned, then he understood and he felt bile rise in his throat. The wizard's lips spread into a thin smile. "Why spend the effort now, when we can delay for a short time and break Slytherin at the same time?"

Harry felt the remaining colour drain from his face. The world seemed to spin, and it was all he could do to keep his scowl in place. Slytherin was too cunning to let a bunch of Dark wizards bait him into a trap. The other Founders would never let him go.

But Harry was family, even if it wasn't in the way his captors thought, and Slytherin would never abandon him to torture and death. Not even if it cost him everything.

Notes:

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Chapter 27: Sacrifice

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon when Salazar Slytherin arrived in Harrowdale. He came alone, as requested, but while he bore the expected dual wands and hidden weapons, his ring was cloaked in the most powerful secrecy charms the four of them could create. He was reasonable confident that it would go undetected, he and Rowena had designed them to be discreet, but the Order were unpredictable enough that he had taken extra precautions.

He had not told Godric about the vial of blood he had entrusted Myrddin with. While not exactly Dark, even a simple tracking spell wasn't something his friends would approve of it it involved blood magic. And that was without considering that he had had to involve Myrddin of all people.

Salazar shook his head. He had done everything he could, but deep down he knew it didn't really matter. He would have come alone, unarmed, and with no hope of rescue if it meant helping Harry. The acknowledged guilt and terror was locked away, and Salazar let out a deep breath. Everything was set in motion. All he had to do was keep Harry alive.

His own survival would be nice, but the priority was Harry.

Salazar tilted his head to watch the setting sun paint the sky in streaks of orange and purple. He hadn't expressed that sentiment out loud, but Godric had hugged him tight enough to leave bruises before he left. There had been tears in Rowena's eyes, and Helga had barely been able to look at him.

The winter winds were making his eyes water. Salazar rubbed them, just as the sun disappeared.

There was a deafening crack, and Salazar found himself surrounded.

The Order had never been stupid. Eight hooded wizards surrounded him, and Salazar could sense half a dozen more standing back in the nearby trees. All were pointing wands at him. Salazar quirked an eyebrow, and slowly raised his hands, shifting painfully as he was forced to put weight on his bad leg.

"My wand is in my belt. The other is in the inside pocket of my robes. I have four knives, located in my boots, belt, and left arm."

Revealing his weaponry went against every instinct, but he didn't have much choice. Neither wands nor knives would help him now, and he had no desire to antagonise them this early. Besides, it wasn't like they weren't going to search him anyway.

That thought was confirmed when one of the figures jerked their head. Two of their fellows stepped forward, while the rest continued to hold their wands on Salazar. The first grabbed the listed weapons, then the second rifled through his robes in search of anything Salazar might have neglected to mention. The thought had been tempting, but he couldn't risk it.

Enduring the rough pawing was a test of his patience, but they didn't find the ring.

They did, however, make a grab his staff. Salazar tensed instinctively, fingers twitching, but relinquished it without protest. It had been too much to hope that they would let him keep any sense of dignity. His leg was throbbing painfully in the cold, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind with the ease of long practice and straightened as best he could.

"Let's get on with this."

Two figures stepped up on either side to catch him by the arms. Salazar barely had time to steady himself before he was pulled away into the familiar wrench of Side-Along Apparation.

They reappeared a moment later, and Salazar immediately found himself being shoved to the floor. He barely caught himself before his face smashed into the stone floor, but the impact still left him choking back a gasp as he jarred his muscles.

A second later that pain was forgotten when a gleeful voice echoed through the air.

"Crucio."


"He must be with them by now, right?"

Hermione didn't look up from the page she had been staring at for the last twenty minutes. "I expect so."

"So does that mean we can go?" Ron demanded. He hadn't been able to sit still since Slytherin had left. With the other Founders preparing Hogwarts' defences they had been left to their own devices, and it was not helping his mood.

William wasn't much better off, but he still shook his head. "Not yet. We need to give him time to reach Harry. Extracting them will be easier if they're together."

"But we don't know when that will be!" Ron exploded. He whirled towards the corner where Myrddin sat staring out at the shadowy grounds. "What are we going to do?"

Myrddin didn't move, but for the muscle twitching in his jaw. Ron swore under his breath and kept pacing, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Hermione slammed her book shut. When Ron spun round he nearly took a step back at the blank look in her brown eyes.

"We wait. But not for long."


Harry had been pacing up and down his tiny cell ever since his captors had left. He knew it was a waste of energy, but their words were ringing in his ears and he thought better on the move.

He wanted Slytherin to come. He wanted his family. But this enemy hated Slytherin as much as Voldemort hated Harry, and Harry couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to the one family member he had left. Not when they had only just found each other.

When two more wizards came to take him from his cell though, he knew exactly what had happened. He was barely able to focus on the route through the corridors until they finally entered a gloomy chamber. Harry had to squint to make anything out clearly in the dim light of the few lit candles, but finally his vision adjusted and his heart sank.

He wasn't surprised to see Slytherin. Even with the inevitability of capture and torture, the older wizard would never have stayed at home, just as Harry would never be able to abandon anyone he loved.

But he wasn't expecting to see Slytherin collapsed on the floor, body jerking in the awful way the spider had under Crouch's wand, the way he had in the graveyard...

"No!"

Vicelike hands clenched on his arms before he could try to run forward, but his interruption had been enough. The figure standing over Slytherin lowered his wand, and Slytherin slumped back to the ground.

"Our guest of honour."

Harry stared at his teacher, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. Slytherin had yet to make a sound, but Harry could see him trembling. Memories flashed through his mind, and white hot rage replaced the fear. "Leave him alone!"

"I don't think so," said the wizard flatly. His voice was a rough wheezing rasp, as if something had damaged his vocal cords and they had never quite healed right. He walked past Slytherin until he stood in front of Harry. Magic crackled around him, the Dark magic making Harry's skin itch, but he was too angry to care. He had stood up to Voldemort. He wasn't afraid of some pathetic loser who had already been beaten once.

"You," he spat, "will leave my grandfather alone."

It was only because he was listening for it that he caught Slytherin's sharp intake of breath. Harry risked a glance at him, met startled silver eyes, and took the opportunity. He dropped his Occlumency shields, and even disoriented as he was Slytherin recognised the invitation. Harry felt the familiar feather light touch of his teacher's mind against his and forced the relevant images to the front. He felt Slytherin's surprise and approval before he retreated, and Harry slammed his defences back into place.

The whole interaction had taken less than three seconds, but left Harry feeling immeasurably better.

At least until the wizard let out a bitter snort.

"You did not inherit the family intelligence, did you? You are both here, you are outnumbered, and you are both going to die. The only question remaining is how painfully."

"Bold words from a man who can only curse unarmed prisoners," Harry shot back. Even Voldemort had at least given him back his wand. "You're just a coward."

He realised too late that insulting the man who had complete power over them might not have been the best idea, but he had been sorted into Gryffindor, and he meant every word.

That didn't make the Cruciatus Curse any easier to bear.

One could compare the Cruciatus curse to being stabbed all over by a million white hot knives. Harry thought that was a reasonable comparison, if that pain was multiplied by a thousand or two. It overwhelmed every nerve until even thinking was impossible, until all he could do was hold on and try not to scream and pray for it all to end...

Then the pain was cut off by an ice cold crack of magic.

"Raise your wand to my grandson again," Slytherin snarled, "and you won't live to see dawn."

Every muscle burned, but Harry forced his head up. Slytherin was still trembling from the after-effects of his own time under the Cruciatus, but he was somehow on his feet and the look on his face would have made Issa flinch.

"Remember who defeated you last time, Jarlath."

"How could I forget?" Jarlath spat. "You and that muscle-bound oaf ruined years of preparation and-"

"And you tried to kill us! You attacked my students and my friends." He limped forward, eyes blazing. "The only regret I have is not making sure you were dead."

Harry didn't dare look away, but he did feel the guards behind him take a step back. The already chilly room seemed to cool even further as Jarlath straightened.

"Oh, but you tried," he whispered, and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. "You certainly did."

Slytherin stiffened. Harry pushed himself up from the ground, ignoring the protests screaming from every muscle. Whatever happened, he was going to face it on his own two feet.

Jarlath pulled back his hood, and only Harry's experiences with Voldemort kept him from screaming.


Godric wasn't one for regrets. In his line of work he couldn't be. Rowena had been the sole exception, and even that he had refused to allow himself to dwell on so far as possible. But then his friends had always been his weak point. And Godric wasn't sure he could survive Salazar's death as he had Rowena's choice.

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Godric let himself lean into the touch.

"There was nothing you could have said that would have stopped him from going."

Godric knew that as well as she did. It didn't make him feel any better. From the quaver in her voice, Rowena wasn't doing a very good job of believing it herself. He squeezed her hand. "I wish I was with him."

Rowena's eyes met his, dark with understanding and empathy, and it was all Godric needed. He took a deep breath and forced himself to let the knot of terror go. He would defend his school, his students, his friends. He would teach the Order the folly of attacking the ones he loved.

And if he never saw Salazar again, if his dearest friend fell, then Godric would call down Fiendfyre on anyone and everyone responsible and not give a damn about the consequences.

Godric breathed out the fear and looked back at Rowena.

"Myrddin will find them. The best thing we can do for them is to give them something to come back to."

Rowena's hand trembled, and Godric pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, before pulling back and summoning a smile. "They had better. I'm sure Salazar has been waiting for us to confess our feelings for decades."

"He has," Godric admitted, with a rueful smile. "As has Helga."

But thinking about Helga and Salazar and hidden feelings only made his chest hurt more, and it took all Godric's willpower to keep himself from disappearing into another storm of what-ifs. He shook his head. "We will tell them later."

Rowena just nodded. She stepped away from him, but didn't let go of his hand. "We should find Helga. We need to make plans."

The fact that Helga really shouldn't be left alone went unsaid. Godric reached into the wards until he located her familiar presence. "She has just left the Room of Requirement. Helena is with her." He smiled at Rowena. "She is doing well."

The pride that lit Rowena's eyes lifted his mood slightly. Mother and daughter had had their differences, but Helena was nearly as devoted to Hogwarts as they were. As much as she hadn't liked staying behind, she had taken on the task of tutoring some of the more promising students in the Patronus Charm with her typical vigour.

Speaking of which...

"Did your vision give you any clues as to when the Dementors would arrive?"

"Tonight," said Rowena quietly. "The moon was full." She shuddered, and looked up. "I appreciate Helena's efforts, but she will not be able to make enough of a difference before they attack."

Godric sighed. The Patronus Charm was a lot more complicated than most defensive spells, and that was even without the Dementors. "Ours will be enough. They have to be. It's whatever else they might throw at us that worries me."

There wasn't much Rowena could add to that. The two of them left the room in silence.

For once the corridors were free of students. The younger ones were safe in the Room of Requirement, and Godric had dispatched the rest to various defensive positions around the castle. Hogwarts felt horribly empty without them, and it only stoked the embers of Godric's fury. Their school was supposed to be safe. Not a target for murderers.

Rowena's grip on his hand tightened, and Godric knew she felt the same way. He squeezed back, the gesture the only promise he could make. If all else failed, he refused to let Salazar's sacrifice be in vain.

Helga was back in the Infirmary by the time they finally tracked her down. The only light came from the moonlight streaming through the windows, but that was enough to see the tear tracks on her face. She was staring at the fresh vials of potions, and didn't look up at their entrance.

"We should never have let him go."

Godric said nothing. They couldn't have left Hogwarts vulnerable to attack. Salazar couldn't have left Harry in enemy hands. Helga knew that as well as he did. Rowena dropped his hand and crossed to Helga's side.

"He made his choice," she said gently. "And he left us with work of our own to do."

Helga's eyes flashed and Godric tensed, but Rowena met her gaze without flinching and after a moment Helga's shoulders slumped. "I know," she whispered. She closed the door of the medicine cabinet and wiped her eyes. "We are as ready as we can be."

Her voice cracked, and Rowena pulled her into a hug. Godric lost no time in joining them. Soon they would have to go and marshal the rest of their defenders, but this moment was theirs. Even if they missed Salazar all the more.

They would do what they could. It had to be enough.


Harry couldn't move. Not through any magical means, which was something at least, but all he could do was stare at Jarlath's face.

Or what remained of it. It was impossible to identify even his ethnicity. Mottled burn scars covered every inch of visible skin, the flesh twisted into thick robes and folds until it looked like the clay statues Dudley had made in primary school. His ears were barely indistinguishable knobs of flesh and his nose and mouth were misshapen slits

And staring out from the mess of melted flesh were a pair of icy blue eyes that would see a school full of children dead and not feel a thing.

"See what your precious grandfather did to me," he rasped.

Harry's throat was bone dry. He had seen what Dark magic could do, but this...Slytherin had done this. But Harry knew Slytherin would never burn anyone alive, not with his history, and besides that was Gryffindor's thing, and Slytherin could barely light a fireplace, let alone set anyone else on fire...

A bolt of lightning was hotter than the surface of the sun, the part of his mind that sounded like Hermione reminded him.

Slytherin, though, just barked out a bitter laugh.

"I repeat, you tried to kill me and everyone I love. Though if you find life so intolerable I would be more than happy to finish what I started."

Jarlath's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure, but things will be different this time." He stepped back, eyes flickering between Harry and Slytherin. "I could kill you both right now."

Harry's heart rate tripled. Like in the graveyard, and the Chamber, and when facing Quirrell, and every other time his life had been in danger, everything seemed to slow down. Blood pounded in his ears and every breath burned in his lungs, but the pain was forgotten. He had survived this long. There had to be something he could do.

Before he could think of what that thing might be though, Jarlath scoffed and turned away.

"But why rush?"

Harry took the opportunity to step closer to Slytherin, who was visibly swaying on his feet, but his anxiety ratcheted up a notch. Slytherin shot him a quick glance, then cleared his throat. "You see, Harry, some people need multiple lessons before they understand basic concepts."

Harry thought he knew what his teacher was up to, but the words still made his fingers itch for his wand. Jarlath's ruined face twisted into a bitter grimace. "You never were stupid," he rumbled. His eyes flickered to Harry. "No. I'm not going to kill you yet."

Slytherin's eyes narrowed. Harry cast a quick glance round, but other Order members lined the walls and without their wands there was nothing they could do. He managed another step closer to Slytherin, close enough that he could feel the older man shaking, and glared at Jarlath, but before he could open his mouth Slytherin laid a hand on his arm.

"Let me guess. You want me to see my school burn, my students terrorised, and my friends murdered first."

There was nothing but ice in his voice, but Harry could feel the tremor in his fingers. Harry caught his elbow before his bad leg gave out, and his hatred redoubled at the delighted gleam in Jarlath's eyes.

"Not if we kill him first," he growled.

Jarlath huffed a laugh. "He's nearly as bloodthirsty as you."

Not since learning about Wormtail had Harry wanted to kill anyone so much. This man was a threat to people that Harry loved, and if killing him was the only way to stop him then so be it.

It was no different than Voldemort, Harry realised, and for the first time since hearing the prophecy he fully acknowledged what he was expected to do. For the first time since killing that witch he accepted it. Some people just wanted to watch the world burn, and Harry couldn't stand by and let that happen.

"He taught me well," he said quietly. Slytherin glanced at him, his stony glare faltering slightly. Harry smiled. "Thank you, Grandfather."

The corner of Slytherin's mouth turned up, and he leaned into Harry a little. "He is my best pupil," he murmured. "And I couldn't be more proud."

"Touching," said Jarlath. "It will be so much satisfying when I kill you too."

It took Harry a moment to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had faced death before, but he would always choose it over being forced to watch someone he loved die. He tried to catch Slytherin's eye, but the older wizard's face turned so ferocious he had to fight the urge to move away. Slytherin started to open his mouth, but Jarlath held up a hand and Harry nearly choked on the magic that silenced them.

"As fascinating as your company is, I am afraid I do not have time to prolong this." He smiled, the expression even more disturbing than usual. "But do not worry. You will see me soon. And your friends."

If looks could kill, Slytherin would have no need for Issa. Jarlath waved a dismissive hand, and their guards stepped up to surround them both. Harry forced himself not to fight, even as his hands clenched into fists. Even unarmed as they were it wouldn't be easy to keep Slytherin a prisoner. And if they were focused on Slytherin, then they wouldn't be as worried about him. Whatever happened, their chances of escaping would be a lot better when the rest of the Order left.

As if reading his mind, the corner of Jarlath's mouth twitched up.

"Now, I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone. I've arranged some special guards for the two of you."

Harry knew what was about to happen a moment before the familiar sickening cold rolled through the room. A woman's voice started to echo in his ears, and he was barely able to keep his footing.

Next to him, Slytherin wasn't so fortunate.


Controlling his emotions had never been one of Ron's strong points. All the Weasleys had their problems, and Ron had never been ashamed of it. Now though, he was forced to accept the fact that getting overwhelmed by rage and fear would do nothing to help Harry. If anything, they would just get his best friend killed. So Ron had tried to think like Hermione instead of a Weasley, and he had tried to stay calm.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

Ron raised an eyebrow at Hermione. Myrddin was many things, but a genius was number one on the list. Even as unpredictable as he was, he would never let Harry or Slytherin down. Ron stared down at the valley and his hands clenched into fists. His best friend was down there somewhere, and Ron wasn't leaving without him.

Myrddin, though, was still scowling at Hermione. "This would hardly be a good time to start being wrong now, would it?"

Hermione drew herself up, lips thinning to sharp lines, and recognising the danger signs Ron stepped in between them. "Okay, so we're in the right place. What's the plan?"

Silence met his words. Ron stared at them, and at William who looked even more pale than usual under the moonlight, and rubbed his eyes. "Ideas? Anyone?"

Myrddin sniffed and folded his arms. "I got us this far. It's someone else's turn to contribute."

"Not helpful," said William with a sigh.

Ron bit back the urge to snap at them and squinted down at the building. It wasn't the fortified castle he had expected, just a large square manor house , but Ron knew better than to take anything in the magical world at face value. He was just starting to open his mouth when Hermione suddenly gripped William's arm.

"You've been studying Warding with Professor Slytherin, haven't you?"

William nodded without looking away, his brow furrowed in thought. "Yes. It's a fascinating subject." He hesitated, casting a quick glance at Myrddin. "I think I understand the basics of the ward they're using, but I don't have the power to do anything about it. At least not by myself."

Ron brightened. "And is there a way to see how many people are inside?"

Myrddin looked between the two of them, then pushed himself off from the tree and squinted down at their target. "There is. And it will be a good way of testing the strength of the wards." He drew his wand, and glanced at Hermione. "Watch closely."

Ron snorted. As if Hermione ever needed encouragement. He let his mind tune them out as it turned over their possible options. With William's knowledge of wards, Hermione's creativity, and Myrddin being Myrddin, he thought he knew how they could get inside. They would have to wait until the attack force left for Hogwarts though, there was no way they would be able to force their way through the entire organisation otherwise.

The idea of letting Hogwarts get attacked hurt, but Ron suppressed it. Gryffindor and the others could keep the school safe until they got back.

They just had to hope that Harry and Slytherin were still alive. And that the Order didn't take them to Hogwarts. But transporting someone like Slytherin was dangerous and taking him to Hogwarts would be crazy and surely it would be more effective to leave them behind to worry over what was happening without being able to affect anything...

"All right," said Myrddin, making Ron jump. "There are sixty three people inside, one of which can only be Salazar, but I can't get anything else out about the rest."

Not being able to tell if Harry was all right hurt, but Ron couldn't let himself think about that. "Right," he said. "So most of them will be leaving soon. If we say about ten stay to keep an eye on Harry and Slytherin-"

"Let's plan for twenty," Hermione interrupted. "And if they have any sense at all they'll have other protections in place too." She scowled down at their target. "We have no idea what they might leave behind."

William nodded. "It'll be something nasty. Helena mentioned that they left traps and Dark creatures the last time they tried something like this. We shouldn't have too many problems as long as we're careful, but we still have to get inside."

Ron shook his head. "I think I have an idea. Myrddin, can you let us know when any of them leave?" Myrddin nodded, and Ron glanced at William. "If me and Hermione help, do you think you could take down the wards without him?"

William hesitated, his eyes flickering between the three of them. "I think so. She's a lot better at Arithmancy than I am, but if we work together it should be doable."

"I agree," said Hermione. Her frustration had faded somewhat in the face of the puzzle to be solved, even if the ever-present tension was still visible in every movement. Ron squeezed her shoulder, and she spared him a tight smile. "I understand the base components, but I haven't covered how to take them apart yet. We can work it out together though."

Ron nodded. Never having taken Runes or Arithmancy he would be pretty useless, but that was fine. As much as he hated to think about it, he would be needed when they found their friends.

"Well, you seem to have a plan," Myrddin observed. "And what would you like me to do while these two try out a new career?"

Ron met his gaze, and tried not to think about he was talking to a wizarding legend. "We need a distraction. Something big."

Myrddin's smile turned sharklike. "And you thought of me. I'm flattered." The smile sharpened, and William edged away. "I think I have just the thing."


They all felt the Dementors arrive.

Godric Apparated the moment he felt the wards tremor. Rowena and Helga would organise the rest of the teachers and students. His job was to make anyone stupid enough to attack their school regret the day they were born.

The effects of the Dementors left him staggering as he landed, the memories crashing down upon him like a thunderstorm, but the effects were blunted by the wards and he stood against them. He took a moment to assess the situation; the slope leading up to the castle was covered in the hideous creatures, and beyond the wards he could sense equally threatening humans. The numbers were intimidating, but Godric had spent his life facing overwhelming odds. The wards might not hold against such an assault. He would.

The Dementors pressed against the wards, and Godric gritted his teeth as the memories slammed up against his mind. He raised his wand, summoned the memory of Rowena's lips meeting his, and the silver griffin burst into life.

"Get away from my school!"

The Dementors scattered before the spell, and the ensuing relief from his worst nightmares let it flaring even brighter. Godric fed more power to the griffin until it lit up the night sky, and directed it after the group that were approaching from the side. No Dementors were getting anywhere near his students.

A series of cracks echoed behind him, and a hippogriff and a winged horse joined the griffin. Godric risked a glance, and saw a few of their students lined up behind Rowena and Helga. Helena caught his eye and nodded before turning to her friends.

"All right, remember what we said," she said. Though Godric could see her hand trembling, there wasn't a trace of uncertainty in her voice. "Happy memories, and remember why we're doing this." She turned back to the Dementors and raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

There was a split-second where nothing happened, and Rowena tensed, but then a snarling wildcat exploded from Helena's wand and charged at the nearest Dementors. It was joined a moment later by Sigrun's hawk, and spurred on by their success the rest of the students took up the attack. Most only managed silver smoke, but that was enough to keep the Dementors at bay.

But not enough to drive them away. Even the corporeal Patronuses had only managed to force the foul creatures away from the school boundaries. They were regrouping out of reach, the chill of the air increasing with their furious hunger.

And the Order were starting to advance.

Godric drew his sword. If they wanted his students, then they would have to go through him.


Harry had faced down Dursleys, dragons, and Dark wizards. Dementors were still the worst of all.

Jarlath hadn't been stupid enough to leave them in the same room as a horde of Dementors, but having them outside the door was bad enough. Harry had a new appreciation for Sirius' strength of will. He could barely think straight, and it took the stubbornness that had let him defeat the Imperius to keep him from descending into total despair.

At least he and Slytherin had been left in the same cell. Then again, it wasn't like they could do much damage in their present condition.

Harry hurt all over. His head still throbbed from the Horcrux removal and the prolonged Legilimency assault, and every muscle burned with the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse, but even his list of injuries didn't compare to Slytherin's. Jarlath had indulged in another Crucio before leaving, and the other Order members hadn't been gentle when Slytherin's leg gave out on the way back to the cell.

Add to that the horrific effects that the Dementors had on him, and it was hardly surprising that Harry couldn't spare much thought for his own welfare.

Slytherin hadn't moved from where he was slumped on the floor against the wall. Harry crouched next to him, and rested a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Professor?"

Slytherin didn't answer. His eyes were clenched shut and his breathing was fast and shallow. Harry swallowed, and tried to keep his rising terror under control. His mother's voice was still ringing in his ears, and he gripped Slytherin by both shoulders.

"Come on, Professor," he hissed. "I know it's hard, but you have to focus."

Slytherin still didn't move. Voldemort's cold voice joined Lily's, and Harry bit his lip so hard he drew blood. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. Maybe...

"Grandfather?"

That didn't elicit a reaction either, at least from Slytherin. Harry, though, couldn't deny that saying the word because he wanted to, and not because he had to to keep from getting murdered, felt really good. He tried again, this time letting as much concern and affection as he dared leak into his voice.

"Grandfather, please."

This time the words must have got through whatever nightmare Slytherin was reliving. The older wizard let out a shaky sigh.

"No one is here. You don't have to call me that."

Harry's heart contracted, but he didn't move. "What about if I want to?"

Finally, Slytherin's eyes focused on him. "Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I like how it sounds. I never knew any of my grandparents. And I know it isn't completely accurate, but I still don't like 'Uncle' and anything else would just get confusing and you are the right age-"

But that was as far as he got before Slytherin pulled him in for a fierce hug. Startled, but not the slightest bit displeased, Harry hugged him back as tight as he dared.

"I like the sound of it too," Slytherin whispered. He drew back enough to look Harry in the eye. "I am sorry for getting you involved in this," he said, "but I swear to you that we will both make it out of here."

Harry smiled at him. "I know we will." He hesitated, given Jarlath's overconfidence the chances of anyone spying on them seemed low, but he did keep his voice barely above a whisper when he continued, "and I know you wouldn't come alone."

Slytherin nodded ever so slightly, but didn't elaborate. Harry considered pressing him for details, but his teacher was right. They couldn't risk it.

The cold seemed to increase in the silence that followed. Slytherin hunched over, and Harry shuddered as the memories started to build up again. He hated Dementors. It had been long enough that their friends at Hogwarts had to be under attack by now, and even knowing how strong Gryffindor and the others were it was hard to resist the growing sense of helplessness. He desperately cast about for a distraction, and the combination of his current company and circumstances elicited an amused snort.

Slytherin quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Is there anything amusing about this?"

"Not really," Harry admitted. "But I just thought of what Voldemort would say if he heard me calling you 'Grandfather'."

He realised a moment too late that bringing up Voldemort in this situation was probably not a good idea, but the corner of Slytherin's mouth twitched up.

"He would certainly deserve it," he murmured. "Though I imagine the reactions of your Slytherin classmates might prove more entertaining."

Just the thought of Malfoy's face at hearing that piece of news was enough to make Harry laugh. For a moment the chill of the Dementors seemed to fade, leaving behind a strange warmth in his chest. It felt a little like when Sirius or Mrs Weasley hugged him. Slytherin's expression turned fond, drawn and haggard as it was, and despite the danger of their situation Harry let himself relax. Slytherin had walked into a building full of Dark wizards for him. Slytherin was willing to leave everything and travel to the future for him.

Harry eased himself down next to his grandfather.

"I still don't regret coming here," he said. "Maybe this bit, but I'm still glad we ended up here."

Slytherin blinked. "Harry..."

"I mean it," Harry insisted. He fiddled with a loose thread from his sleeve. "Sirius is my godfather, and Hermione and the Weasleys are all basically family, but that's not the same as actually being family. Even if it a few hundred generations removed," he added.

For the first time in hours, Slytherin gave him a genuine smile. "We are family," he agreed. "And I meant what I said. I am honoured to call you my grandson."

Despite being stuck in a cell, surrounded by monsters, Harry felt lighter than he had all day. They would make it through this. If nothing else, survival ran in the family.

He was opening his mouth to say as much when a ferocious pulse of magic left both of them gasping. If Harry hadn't already been sitting down he would have passed out.

"What was that?" he gasped.

A slow, vicious smile was spreading across Slytherin's face. He cocked his head to one side, eyes unfocusing, then nodded to himself. "That would be my students and your best friends," he murmured. "And they're making reasonable progress on the wards, interesting."

"Reasonable?" Harry repeated. "And what is Myrddin doing?"

"What he does best," said Slytherin absently. He straightened, the ever-present chill of the Dementors forgotten in the challenge of a puzzle. "They are doing well, but their progress is slow. They may not break through before alarms are raised."

Harry frowned. The last thing they needed was an interrupted rescue. "Is there anything we can do?"

Slytherin finally looked at him, and the fighting spirit was back in his eyes. "Oh, I should think so."


Ron had no idea what Myrddin was doing, but it was definitely working. Even knowing that the mad genius was just causing a distraction, the chaos was almost enough to make him double-check for giants. He had seen half a dozen Order members hurrying in the direction of the racket, and a couple more sneaking off in the opposite direction, and with most of the force already at Hogwarts, that left only a handful to guard Harry and Slytherin. They wouldn't get a better chance.

They probably wouldn't get another chance at all, but that didn't matter. They weren't leaving without their friends.

Another explosion battered his ear drums, and William let out a frustrated curse.

"I know he's helping, but how are we supposed to concentrate with that going on?"

"Find a way," Hermione snapped. Her eyes were closed, and she was squeezing Ron's hand hard enough to make the bones creak. "If they get a chance to call for help then we're done for."

Ron gritted his teeth. He hated not being able to help. "You can do it," he urged them.

William swore loudly and raised his wand again. Hermione's grip on his hand tightened. Somehow. "We can't do much about the Anti-Apparition spells," she mumbled. "But if we focus on the ones keeping intruders out then we might have a chance."

"Not much of one, but we don't have much choice," said William grimly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, only for them to fly open again. "Did you feel that?"

At the same moment, Hermione jumped. "What was that?"

"What?" Ron demanded. "What's going on?"

He hated not being able to do anything. Hermione waved her free hand at him irritably, but William's eyes widened. "Wait, I know this. It's Professor Slytherin!"

"What?"

William's grin split his face. "I don't know how, but he's attacking the wards from the inside!"

Ron's heart leapt. Slytherin was alive and in good enough shape to fight, and he would do anything for Harry and so Harry had to be alive too. Hermione's grip somehow tightened.

"This is exactly what we need! He has much more experience with this than we do. We can do this!"

Ron squeezed back, and turned to glare down at the building. They had better.


Harry hated waiting to be rescued. Slytherin was helping, somehow, but all Harry could do was pace up and down and try not to jump at every odd sound. The racket outside was not helping his nerves; if anything the fact that people had found them was only making him more anxious to get moving.

At least the chill of the Dementors was fading. Whatever their rescuers were doing, it was enough to draw the creatures away from the cell.

A clatter in the corridor caught his attention, and Harry immediately darted to the side of the door. It was common sense that prisoners be secured in the case of an attack. Slytherin shot him a quick glance, but Harry shook his head. Slytherin needed to work on the wards. The element of surprise, and a bit of luck, should be enough.

The door swung open, and Harry lunged forward. He felt bone crunch under his fist and the wizard fell back with a cry, but it wasn't enough and he didn't let go of his wand and his mouth was opening to begin a spell-

And then a vicious pulse of magic sent him flying back to smash against the wall. Harry shook out his hand and glanced back. Slytherin was leaning heavily on the wall, his eyes flashing as he lowered his hand. Harry smiled at him.

"Thanks."

"What are grandfathers for?" Slytherin asked dryly. His eyes unfocused again for a moment, and he shook his head. "The wards still aren't down."

Harry frowned. If Slytherin was focusing on that then things would be a lot more difficult. Ron had always been better at the physical combat than him. If they ran into more trouble...

Harry shook himself. He would worry about that when it happened. He had no idea where the Dementors had gone, but there was no way that staying where they were was a good plan. He ducked back into the cell, and pulled Slytherin's arm around his shoulders. "Let's get somewhere safe."

Never had he been so glad that he had filled out over the last few months. He would never be as tall as Ron, but he had overtaken Slytherin weeks ago and the older wizard wasn't much of a burden. Slytherin's face tightened, and Harry's own muscles immediately started protesting as he took the extra weight, but Slytherin just took a shaky breath.

"Thank you."

Harry managed a grin. "What are grandsons for?"

He counted it a success when Slytherin huffed a laugh, even if the sound faded quickly. "Any ideas on how to get out of here?"

Slytherin shook his head. "We Apparated straight to that chamber," he said. "I never saw anything else."

"I was unconscious," said Harry with a scowl. He considered trying to find their wands, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. Their priority had to be to get out and back to Hogwarts as soon a possible. He glanced up and down the corridor, and picked a direction at random. "You concentrate on the wards."

He felt Slytherin stiffen, but he didn't argue. Slytherin knew as well as he did that both escape and rescue were impossible with the wards still up, and whoever was getting them out couldn't do it alone. After a moment Slytherin jerked his head. "If you run into trouble-"

"I know," said Harry. "Just leave this to me."

He thought Slytherin would argue, but his grandfather just nodded. It was more faith than most adults back home had shown in him. Harry took a deep breath and started to lead the way down the corridor.

It was slow going. Slytherin didn't weigh much, but it was still awkward to manoeuvre through the narrow corridors. Harry was all too mindful of his grandfather's injuries, and the after-effects of his own experiences soon left him gasping for breath but he pushed on. They had to keep moving.

Harry's concentration was abruptly broken when Slytherin let out a triumphant hiss. "The physical defences have fallen. We cannot Apparate yet, but-"

"There's nothing stopping us from walking out," Harry finished.

Well, nothing except whatever Order members were left, the Dementors, and anything else they might have left behind, but Harry didn't care. They had to get out, they had to help their friends, and nothing was going to stop them. And they had help coming. He took more of Slytherin's weight and picked up the pace as much as he dared.

Thankfully Harry didn't have to put any more of Gryffindor's physical combat lessons into practice. The corridors were clear of both enemies and traps, which was just as well considering how awkward their progress was. All in all though, Harry was feeling reasonably optimistic about their chances.

Naturally it was at that point that they felt the all too familiar deathly cold.

Slytherin's grip tightened on his shoulder. "Harry..."

"I know," Harry gasped. "Not that way."

Turning was awkward, but the growing chill was the incentive they needed. Harry soon found himself struggling for breath, and though Slytherin's jaw was clamped shut Harry could hear the tight groans he couldn't entirely suppress. He pushed them on faster regardless, he could hear the horribly familiar screaming, but there was simply nowhere to go.

The was only one thing they could do. Harry came to a halt at the next corner.

"This isn't working," he spluttered. "I'm going to try the Patronus Charm."

"Harry-"

"We can't outrun them," said Harry. He leaned Slytherin against the wall, waiting until he was sure the older wizard had his balance before turning back to face the approaching Dementors.

Harry had never had any success at consciously performing wandless magic. Just nonverbal spells were still a challenge. Now though, with Dementors bearing down on them and Slytherin still fighting to take down the wards, he had no choice. He thought of Ron, of Hermione, of his newfound grandfather...

"Expecto Patronum!"

Silver mist burst into life around them, and Harry gasped as the crushing cold and despair eased. It wasn't as good as his stag, but even a little helped and at least it was easier to sustain. He cast a quick glance at Slytherin, who had sagged against the wall, but the older wizard managed a tight smile.

"Well done," he whispered.

The praise warmed Harry's chest, and the silver light brightened. Slytherin's grip tightened convulsively on his bad leg before he visibly relaxed.

"Thank you," he rasped. "The-the rest of the wards are nearly down. It won't be much longer." A shudder wracked his body. "They built these well."

"But not well enough," said Harry grimly. He paused to feed more power to the Patronus, and felt the Dementors fall back with a surge of satisfaction. A couple of them tried to advance again, but Harry had faced down Voldemort after taking a Cruciatus, and a few Dementors were nothing compared to that. Not when Slytherin's life depended on him.

That didn't mean it was easy. Harry's vision was starting to blur, and the ache in his head had intensified until it felt like someone had stuck a butter knife through his skull. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the happy memories he needed to fuel the Patronus. He could feel Slytherin's concerned gaze, but this was something Harry had to do alone.

Then Jarlath's voice joined Voldemort's in Harry's mind, and the shock sent him staggering. The Patronus faltered. The Dementors advanced. Harry desperately tried to summon back the feelings of love and family, but the Dementors were too close and there were too many screams ringing in his ears. He stumbled back against the wall, fumbling behind him until he caught Slytherin's wrist, but it wasn't enough. The Patronus flickered and went out.

It was over. He had failed.

Then a shining silver otter collided with the lead Dementor and a terrier backed it up and Harry sucked in a desperate gasp of air. The Dementors fell back under the assault, and Harry twisted round to meet William's bright smile.

"You took your time," he managed.

"Sorry," said William, as he bounded past to set up a Shield Charm, "we got here as fast as we could. Good to see you, Professor!"

"Harry!"

Seeing William was great, but the sight of his best friends was what Harry needed really needed. His knees buckled, but long arms wrapped around him before he could hit the ground and lowered him the rest of the way, and then Ron's deep voice sounded by his ear.

"Harry, are you all right? Can you look at me?"

"I'm fine," Harry gasped. "Slytherin isn't, go and see to him."

To his relief Ron didn't argue, just squeezed his shoulder and shot to Slytherin's side. Hermione crouched next to him, her eyes dark with concern and relief. "Are you sure? You look-"

"Awful, I know," Harry agreed, then nearly fell over as she threw her arms around him. "Hermione!"

Hermione drew back, wiping her eyes. "Sorry. We-we were very worried."

"All right, that's enough of the reunions," Myrddin snapped. "Harry, catch."

Not even a day of being imprisoned and cursed was enough to make Harry miss a catch. Getting his wands back felt like getting his hands back, the warmth that spread through his body as his magic responded was better than a dozen potions. Myrddin clapped him on the shoulder as he passed to return Slytherin's weapons, and Harry was feeling a thousand times better as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Harry, watch out!"

Harry turned, the blackthorn wand coming up, but before he could even register the threat something slammed into him from behind, sending him crashing back to the stone floor. He rolled and bounced to his feet on instinct, turned to face the threat-

And found himself staring into William's lifeless eyes.

Everything seemed to slow down. He heard Hermione curse the attacker. He saw Ron start a useless healing spell. He felt the furious ice cold snap of Slytherin's magic.

Harry stared at the friend who had died to save him, and his own magic exploded.

Notes:

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Chapter 28: Reap The Whirlwind

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

William was dead.

Harry's friend was dead. The boy who had welcomed him into Slytherin and done his best to make them feel at home had died saving his life. Harry dropped to his knees. William's skin was still warm, and his messy blond hair fell forward into his face. If not for the thin trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth he might have been sleeping.

But there was no pulse, and no mischievously glinting blue eyes and Harry knew better.

Ron knelt next to William, but lowered his wand almost immediately. Harry didn't move. There was odd ringing in his ears. Maybe it was Hermione screaming. Maybe it was the rising tide of magic. Harry couldn't look at Slytherin. William shouldn't have been here. He never would have been of it wasn't for them.

The cold suddenly intensified. Harry tore his gaze from William's body to find that both Ron's and Hermione's Patronuses had faded in the shock. The Dementors started to advance again, and the blackthorn wand suddenly felt very hot in Harry's hand. He had had enough.

He thought of his friends, of Slytherin, of William, and without a word the stag exploded into life, bigger and brighter than ever before. The Dementors in front of them scattered but it wasn't enough. A second stag appeared, then a third, and it didn't seem to matter that they were only supposed to be good against Dementors because the Order were falling back under their assault and some had dropped their wands and were turning to flee.

Harry didn't give them a chance. His curses dropped them where they stood, and the rest fell to his friends. He didn't need to look to know which curses were Slytherin's. Within seconds they were the only conscious beings left in the corridors.

Only then did Harry lower his wand. His magic was still burning beneath his skin, making the aches from the Cruciatus Curse redouble in ferocity, and with nothing to unleash it on he felt like he could explode at any moment.

"H-Harry?"

Everything hurt, but Harry looked round. Hermione stood just out of arm's reach. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Ron stood behind her, his face ashen beneath the freckles. Harry opened his mouth, found his throat wouldn't work, and closed it again. His vision blurred, then filled with bushy hair as Hermione threw her arms around him. Harry felt her shaking with sobs, and then Ron's long arms wrapped around the two of them.

"Why did he come?" he choked out. "He-why was he here?"

Hermione's grip tightened, but it was Ron who spoke, his voice cracking with grief, "Same reason we are. He wouldn't stay behind."

Bile rose in Harry's throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. No one else was supposed to get hurt because of him.

And it wasn't over yet. Reluctantly, Harry drew back. Almost immediately he wished he hadn't. Slytherin was standing over William's body, and though his dark hair had fallen forward to hide his face the magic crackling around him was expressive enough. Harry took a step back, and knew his instincts were spot on when Myrddin quickly waved Ron and Hermione back to join him and raised a silent shield.

They were just in time.

If Harry's magic had been an inferno, Slytherin's was the howl of a winter blizzard. There was a roar of magic that made Harry's sinuses throb and Ron cover his ears, then the air equalised with a deafening crack. Slytherin staggered before Myrddin quickly moved to support him, but when he raised his head his eyes were blazing.

"The last wards are down," he said. "Is everyone capable of Apparating to Hogwarts?"

Ron opened his mouth, but closed it again when Harry glared at him. Hermione glanced between the two of them, but it was Myrddin who broached the subject.

"Are you?" he asked bluntly. "I know the signs of the Cruciatus Curse as well, you know." Two sharp intakes of breath sounded behind them, but Harry refused to look round. Slytherin's eyes flashed, but Myrddin was relentless, "And Harry has been here for even longer. Hogwarts is in danger. The last thing we need is either of you Splinching yourselves."

"We won't," Harry snapped. "Neither of us were under it that long, and we need to get moving."

"Mate-"

"I'm fine, Ron!"

"No, you're not!" Ron shouted. Harry drew in breath to shout back, but didn't get a chance before Ron whirled on Slytherin. "Neither of you are! You've both been tortured for fuck's sake, and I know you're not going to stop fighting and I'm not going to tell you to but you will let me fix you up before we go anywhere, is that clear?"

For a second, Harry could only stare, but the moment was broken by Slytherin's sigh. "Helga has trained you well."

Ron went bright red at the praise. "Yeah, she did," he mumbled. He shifted, the anger in his face fading to concern. "And she showed me this spell, she said it would help with the Cruciatus. I'm not as good, but it will help."

Slytherin hesitated, his eyes flickering between Harry and William's body, before he finally dipped his head. "Harry first."

Harry knew better than to even try protesting. As much as he burned to get back to Hogwarts and help, he couldn't fight both Ron and Slytherin. He held still while Ron cast the incantation, and couldn't suppress a gasp as a gentle warmth spread through his body, easing the residual pain from the Cruciatus and relaxing his muscles.

"Wow," he gasped. "Thanks."

This would have been good to have after the graveyard. Ron's ears blazed bright red and he quickly turned to repeat the spell on Slytherin. The Founder didn't visibly react, but he did reach up to grip Ron's shoulder.

"Helga will be proud."

"Thank you," Ron mumbled. He cast a couple more spells before Slytherin could argue, then stowed his wand away. "That's about all I can do right now."

"That's enough," Harry assured him. "I feel much better." He still hurt, but no more than a dull ache and that was nothing. He was strong enough to fight. Slytherin, though, shook his head.

"Harry, go with Hermione."

Harry stared at him, but the expression on Slytherin's face killed any protests he might have made. The older wizard was still looking at William. Harry swallowed, and took Hermione's hand. She was the best at Apparating, and he needed to conserve his energy.

Myrddin stepped up to touch Slytherin's shoulder. He handed over the staff and wands, and crouched next to William. "Go," he said. "I will bring him."

For a moment Harry thought Slytherin would protest, but his grip just tightened on his weapons. He took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to Harry. "If you-"

"Don't say it." Slytherin's eyes narrowed, but Harry met his gaze without flinching. "I can fight. I'm going to make them pay."

There were no further arguments. Harry took one final look at William's body, burning the sight into his mind.

They would pay.


Godric Gryffindor was no stranger to being outnumbered. Facing a threat with Helga, Rowena, and Safdar for back-up was actually far more than he usually had. Normally it was just Salazar... But Salazar was gone, and the thought provided enough impetus for his Blasting Curse to punch a hole through the nearest giant's chest.

The giants had been a surprise. Not as much as the werewolves, but enough for Rowena to raise all of the castle's defences. She had even suggested letting Issa out, but with Salazar gone even Helga had been a little wary of that idea. It didn't matter. The castle was secure. It would take more than the Order had gathered to break through. Godric had considered letting them wear themselves out, but there were two very good arguments against that. The first was that Hogsmeade was still vulnerable, and they couldn't let that be.

The second, and rather more pressing reason if Godric was being completely honest with himself, was that they had Salazar. And Salazar wasn't the only one who understood the need for revenge.

Another giant's head exploded, and Godric risked a quick glance round as he recognised the taste of the magic. He wasn't the only one out for revenge. Helga's face was ashen, but there was no hesitation in her movements. Helena fought at her side, and what she lacked in strength she more than made up for in ferocity. The two of them were unstoppable.

Fittingly for a Transfiguration specialist, Rowena had concentrated on the werewolves. It was impossible to tell whether the cursed creatures were there of their own accord or had had no choice in the matter, and so she had restricted herself to simply restraining them. One was buried up to his neck in the ground, another had had her limbs encased in stone, and even as Godric watched Rowena caught a third in a golden web of magic that left them unable even to snarl.

Godric hated seeing his friends fight, hated seeing his family in danger, but it was their choice and they were more than capable of taking care of themselves.

The students were another matter. They had heart, but that wasn't enough. Not for this. They were sticking in groups as much as possible, as Godric had told them, but he was still keeping a close eye on them. Castor and Pollux together were a force to be reckoned with, and the best of them by far, but this was a lot to ask of any of them.

An explosion sounded from Safdar's direction. The trolls that had been sent round to the rear wouldn't be a problem, leaving Godric free to turn his attention to the human enemies. The battle awen sang in his blood, but he forced it down. He couldn't lose control. Not when the stakes were so high.

Then the wards screamed a warning so loud that it almost made Godric lose his focus. Ice gripped his chest. There was only one person who could trigger that kind of alarm.

"Godric!"

Godric decapitated another Order member and turned to see Rowena approaching, her face ashen with dread. "Godric, that-"

"I know," he interrupted, "and I will handle it. You stay with the students."

"But-"

"Now, Rowena!"

He didn't give her a chance to argue. He concentrated on the source of the alarm, forced the terror in Rowena's eyes from his mind, and willed himself away to appear on the other side of the lake. The sounds of the battle carried over the water, but Godric tuned it out in favour of raising the strongest shield he could.

He needn't have bothered. There were around four dozen Order members ranged before him, but though their wands and weapons were drawn, none of them moved to attack. Godric relegated them to a secondary concern, and focused his attention on the tall figure in front of them.

"You have seen better days, Jarlath."

He thought the expression on Jarlath's face was a scowl, but he couldn't tell for sure through all the scarring and he honestly didn't care. He knew what Salazar's magic was capable of. He was far more concerned with the runes carved into every inch of his bare torso, and the sickening stench of Dark magic. Godric raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you cold?"

This time it was definitely a glare. "You would not be joking if you knew what I had done to your friend."

He was absolutely right. The bottom of Godric's stomach seemed to fall away, and he had to take a moment before he could reply. "And you have a poor memory if you cannot remember what happened the last time you hurt him."

Jarlath's jaw clenched, and Godric pushed more power to his shield. A couple of the Order members raised wands, but all backed down when Godric glanced at them. Godric bit back a snort with an effort. Cowards, the lot of them. Happy to curse helpless prisoners, but come face to face with an armed warrior...

Jarlath rallied though.

"If you want either of them alive, you will surrender."

Godric barked out a humourless laugh. "Salazar would kill me, and he's far more terrifying than you are." He flicked his sword up until it was levelled at Jarlath's chest. "We all know how this is going to end. Let's just get on with it."

The corner of Jarlath's ruined mouth tugged into something that vaguely resembled a smile. "If you insist."

He spat a word in a language Godric didn't care to understand, and the runes on his body blazed with a sickly orange light. At the same moment the Order members unleashed a flurry of spells that exploded against Godric's shield in a shower of multicoloured sparks. The shield held, but Godric knew what he was fighting and threw himself to the side.

A split-second later the shield shattered with a thrum that left Godric's teeth aching. Godric summoned another on instinct but kept moving, and his caution was rewarded when the second shield was destroyed with as little effort as the first. Another vicious curse shot past close enough to scorch his ear, and an unfortunate tree exploded into flames. Godric dived behind the shelter of a clump of rocks and swore. He had forgotten what fighting ritual-enhanced wizards was like.

"Where are you, Gryffindor?" Jarlath roared. "I thought you were a warrior!" There was a flash of light, and another bush burst into flames. "Come and out fight!"

Godric took a deep breath. He could handle Jarlath. He could even handle forty-odd Dark wizards. All of them at the same time might be a little more of a stretch.

But he didn't have any choice. He would do whatever had to be done. Godric closed his eyes, let the battle awen overtake him, and threw himself back into the fray.


The chaos of Apparation coalesced into the frenzy of battle, and Harry was throwing curses the moment he was sure he was upright. He recognised the robes and blood-red insignias of the Order, and his rage at William's murder flared up again, brighter and fiercer than ever. His Blasting Curse blew the nearest giant's head off, spraying blood over everyone unfortunate enough to be nearby, but Harry refused to let it register. If he didn't fight he would die, it was as simple as that.

And after what they had done to William, he was done holding back.

"Watch the werewolves!" Ron yelled, over the din.

Harry swore, and spun back to help his friend. He raised his wand, but before he could even begin to cast the werewolf in question was hit by three Stunning Spells at once and collapsed.

"Harry!"

"Salazar!"

Harry's heart leapt. Hufflepuff and Helena were battling their way through the combatants towards them, a gaggle of bloodied students behind them, and it eased a little of the ache in Harry's chest. They were safe. No one else was dying tonight. He opened his mouth, but somehow Slytherin was in between them and Hufflepuff's eyes filled with such relief that for a moment Harry could almost forget that there was a war on.

Then he saw the streak of blood on Helena's cheek, and reality reasserted itself. They were still fighting for their lives. Hufflepuff's face was ashen, and Slytherin suddenly stiffened.

"Uncle," Helena gasped, but Hufflepuff interrupted,

"He's here, Salazar! He's here, and Godric-"

"Went off alone," Slytherin finished. His face drained of what little colour it had recovered, and he drew himself up. "I'll find him."

"Salazar!" Hufflepuff screamed, but she was too far away and at the same instant another werewolf launched itself at her with a howl and she had to switch her attention or risk her throat being ripped out.

Harry, however, had started moving the moment he heard Gryffindor's name. His fingers closed around his grandfather's arm, and for the second time in as many minutes the world dissolved into the vortex of Apparation.

Once again, they reappeared in the middle of a battle. Slytherin staggered, his eyes widening as he realised what had happened, but Harry didn't give him a chance to protest.

"I'm not letting you go off alone too," he said fiercely. "So let's just do this."

Slytherin scowled, but an explosion sent both of them ducking for cover. Harry stared round, suddenly taking in the dozens of Order members surrounding them. Most were focused on something in the opposite direction, but the smarter ones were already turning to face the new threat. Harry recognised a few faces and the white hot rage flared up again, but even as he raised his wand Slytherin swore and threw up a dome-shaped shield large enough to encompass the two of them.

"We don't have much time, so listen closely," he said. "Jarlath is close, I can feel it, but he's different. He's not like he was back there."

"So what?" Harry demanded. He flinched as curses burst against the shield, but the spellwork held and he refocused on his grandfather. "Gryffindor is here too, right? He can beat that bastard and we can handle them-"

"Listen, Harry. Yes, we can do that, but you must listen to what I'm trying to warn you about. Jarlath is dangerous. He has undergone rituals that kill almost everyone that attempts them, and the ones that survive become monsters. He's stronger, faster, more vicious, and his magical power increases enormously."

"Fine, I'll be careful," said Harry impatiently. "Now let's go!"

"Not until you swear that you will do everything in your power to avoid confronting Jarlath yourself."

Despite the urgency of the of the situation, Harry couldn't help the incredulous look he turned on Slytherin, but his grandfather's expression froze his retort on his lips. Even in the cell with the Dementors, he hadn't seen fear like this in Slytherin's eyes. Slytherin took full advantage of his silence.

"The last time we fought someone like this, we all nearly died. So stay with me, concentrate on the Order, and leave Jarlath to Godric." His lips twitched into a morbid smile. "He's the only one that stands a chance."

Harry held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. Slytherin clasped him briefly on the shoulder, then dispelled the shield in a shockwave that knocked the front row of attackers off their feet and the two of them threw themselves into the fray.


Hermione finally understood what Harry was talking about when he described how he duelled. Every sense seemed to be working overtime in an effort to keep track of all threats and it was almost overwhelming. Hermione worked best when she was able to plan things out. The only plan here was to stay alive from one minute to the next.

Training took over. Stunning spells gave way to Blasting and Cutting Curses and no one who attacked her got a second chance. She had somehow lost track of Hufflepuff and the others amongst the werewolves and trolls and psychopaths trying to kill them, and for all that she had spent years at Hogwarts she was completely turned around.

"Watch out!"

Hermione ducked, and a Stunner shot past her ear to take out the witch charging out to her. Despite herself, a faint smile touched her lips. At least she had Ron. Even as she watched, her friend followed up with a Full Body Bind that took out another wizard, then shot her a forced grin.

"Nice night for a fight, right?"

"Lovely," said Hermione dryly. "Can you see any of the others?"

Ron shook his head. He twisted to try to see through the rush of crowds, just in time to miss the werewolf that sprang for his back.

"Ron!"

Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him back, firing the strongest Stunning Spell she could manage at the werewolf. The creature went flying back through the air with a yelp, and Hermione whirled on Ron.

"Be more careful!" she shouted. "I can't lose you!"

Ron's eyes met hers, wide and impossibly blue. "Hermione..."

"Move!"

She wrenched him to the side, and fired a Cutting Curse at the wizard who had been charging up towards them. Blood sprayed from the carotid artery and the wizard fell, and Hermione pulled Ron in what she hoped was the direction of the Founders. "Come on! We'll be safer with the others."

Ron didn't argue. He also didn't let go of her hand. He cast a silent Leg-Locker on a witch attempting to attack from the side, and Hermione finished her off with a Blasting Curse. Ron's grip tightened on hers, but he said nothing. Instead he threw up a shield in time to catch the next incoming curse, leaving Hermione free to retaliate.

"Nice one," Ron gasped. "Come on, we're nearly there."

Hermione didn't have the breath to reply. Ron's legs were a lot longer than hers. It was just as well they had all become so proficient with non-verbal spells. She kept up the attacks, leaving defence to Ron. She knew she could trust him to keep them both safe as surely as she knew her own name.

In turn, she wouldn't let anyone hurt him. Not again.

But it was dark, and they were surrounded by enemies of all kinds, and it didn't matter how good they were when they were still inexperienced teenagers. A mistimed dodge earned Ron a deep slash across the shoulder, and Hermione wrenched her ankle when she stumbled out of the way of an attacking troll, and for every bit of ground they managed to gain a dozen more enemies seemed to appear.

"Hermione," Ron gasped, as he hexed another Order member, "in case we don't make it out of this-"

Hermione spared a split-second to stare at him. "This is not the time, Ron!"

"What other time are we gonna get?"

Hermione bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. "We are getting out of this," she hissed. "And you will tell me afterwards."

Ron held her gaze for a moment that seemed to last forever, then his mouth twitched into the soft smile she loved so much and he nodded. "Deal," he said. He held out a hand, and Hermione took it gratefully. "C'mon. I think I saw Ravenclaw a second ago."

Hermione took a deep breath and refocused on the battle, trusting Ron to guide them in the right direction. His ridiculous height did have some advantages. She concentrated on the nearest lumbering troll, and felt an explosion of sparks on her other side as Ron shielded them.

"Oi!" he yelled. "You could kill someone doing that."

Hermione snorted a giggle, and the moment of levity left everything feeling sharper. She spun and cut down the witch who had attacked them, and another that was sneaking up on them, in one smooth motion. Ron caught another incoming curse, leaving her to refocus on the troll, and Hermione felt a surge of determination. They were going to make it through this.

"Blasting spells on three," she shouted. "One, two, three!"

Both spells hit the troll square in the chest. It let out a roar and toppled backwards, crushing a startled Order wizard beneath it much to Hermione's satisfaction. Next to her Ron snorted.

"Couldn't have planned that better if we tried."

"We're not out of here yet," Hermione reminded him. "Let's go. I think we're nearly back to the others."

But looking around, Hermione found her confidence faltering. She saw witches and wizards closing in from either side, but even as she calculated angles of attack she saw something else. Yet another wizard, approaching from the rear, wand in one hand and a vicious looking knife in the other.

A wizard that was aiming directly at Ron.

Hermione's body moved on its own and she threw herself forward. At the same time, a wandless Banishing Charm sent Ron stumbling forward out of the path of the curse. He crashed to the floor with a yelp, but out of harm's way, and Hermione desperately tried to follow up with a wandless shield.

But that many spells at once was too much even for her. The shield buckled, then there was a sickening crunch that drove every breath from her lungs. Her vision went white, and when she tried to suck in oxygen her muscles refused to work. Through the rising panic she found herself falling, and over the clamour of battle she heard a desperate cry.

"Hermione!"


Harry had harboured a not-so-secret desire for vengeance ever since he had watched Jarlath torture his grandfather. William's death had only fed the fire. Even after Slytherin's warning, Harry had quietly wished for a chance to take his own revenge on the man who had caused so much pain.

Then he had felt Jarlath's power. Harry was a good hundred metres from where he and Gryffindor were trying to kill each other, and yet the power of the magic they were channelling was enough to make his ears ring. Harry had never felt anything like it, and this was after spending months with the Founders. Slytherin was right; Harry would stand as much chance against Jarlath as he would against Voldemort.

But he could do something about the forty odd Order members that had been surrounding Gryffindor when they arrived.

On his own, Harry would have been quickly overwhelmed. Even with the blackthorn wand and fuelled with the pain of his friend's death, forty was a bit much for one teenage wizard, especially injured as he was. He wasn't the only one who knew that though. For the first time Slytherin had abandoned the Appararition-based fighting style he favoured and stayed at Harry's side, and secure in the knowledge that one of the most dangerous wizards Harry had ever met had his back Harry went on the offence.

It didn't matter that none of these people had killed William. They had kidnapped Harry and tortured Slytherin and tried to murder children and they were still the reason that William was dead even if they hadn't cast the curse themselves and they didn't deserve mercy. His injuries and exhaustion were forgotten. Curses flowed from the blackthorn in a constant, deadly stream, all Harry's trouble with non-verbal spells fading into a dream as he fell completely into the flow of battle.

Part of him wondered if he would regret this when the rage of battle passed, but that thought was quickly silenced. Right now, all that mattered was survival, and hesitating would only get him killed. Worse, it would get his friends killed too.

A deafening roar rang out from up ahead, and Harry flinched. Whatever had made that noise was not something Harry ever wanted to meet, let alone fight. The Order members slowed, quick looks passing between them, but Slytherin drew in a sharp breath.

"Godric," he whispered. "He needs help."

Harry's already racing heart rate shot up. "We'll fight our way through."

He didn't wait for agreement. The Order's attack had flinched and they weren't going to get a better opportunity. Over a dozen bodies lay on the ground. This was their chance to break them and get back to the real battle. Harry summoned up reserves he hadn't known he had and sprang forward, Blasting and Cutting Curses flying from his wand in an unbroken sequence. Slytherin was right on his heels, and if his spells were slightly slower than Harry's they caused far more destruction.

More bodies fell and the Order broke.

Their numbers decimated, their leader and support nowhere in sight, and faced with two furious and powerful wizards, the remainder of the intruders broke ranks and fled. Flushed with the heat of battle Harry started after them, only for Slytherin to raise a hand.

"Godric."

Harry froze, then spun back, furious with himself. There was a clear path to the two duellists now, and he wasted no time pulling Slytherin's arm round his shoulders.

"Sorry," he gasped. "Come on, Grandfather."

Slytherin growled something that did not sound complimentary, but pushed himself as best he could. Harry's own aches and pains were beginning to make themselves known again, but he pushed them down and forced his leaden limbs onwards. They couldn't stop now.

"Remember," Slytherin rasped. "Don't...don't try to engage Jarlath."

Another pulse of power left Harry's teeth aching, and he shuddered. "Don't worry about that."

Slytherin hummed slightly. The wind picked up, and when Harry cast a quick glance down Slytherin gave a shrug. "A precaution."

Harry certainly wasn't going to say no to some weather-based back-up, but the awful pallor of Slytherin's skin made his stomach twist. Neither of them were in great shape, and summoning storms wasn't an easy task at the best of times. Harry silently decided to try to keep Slytherin from directly confronting Jarlath too.

They rounded a pair of trees, only for Harry to drag them back under cover as a spell shot past his head. Slytherin cried out as the impact jarred his bad leg.

"Sorry," Harry said. He risked a quick glance out around the tree, and his jaw dropped.

He had seen Gryffindor fight before. The wizard was a legend for a reason. This, though, was something else. Every movement was perfectly placed, every spell perfectly chosen and leading fluidly into the next without a single wasted movement. His sword lay on the grass behind him, but the blood on the blade and the deep slash across Jarlath's hamstring showed that it had served its purpose. Its loss hadn't slowed Gryffindor down in the slightest.

And yet despite all his skill and ferocity, Gryffindor was barely holding his own. It was full night now, but Jarlath's body glowed with a strange orange light, and he was moving far faster than any human should be able to manage, especially with his bleeding leg wound. This close the sense of wrongness about his magic was even more prominent, and every spell he cast made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.

"What is that?" he breathed.

In his mind's eye he saw Voldemort moving like that, using magic like that, and he wrenched his mind away before he could really start panicking. Voldemort was bad enough as he was. He glanced back at Slytherin, who had pushed himself up to lean against the tree.

"A highly unpleasant ritual," he said. "We will discuss it later. Godric can't keep that up forever."

"What can we do?" Harry asked.

Slytherin closed his eyes. The wind began to pick up. Harry drew in a sharp breath, and Slytherin's lips twitched into a weak smile. "I would not last long in my current condition either," he murmured.

Harry let out a breath. That was good. Unable to help himself, he took a step towards the two duellists. "What about Professor Gryffindor? If he's too close-"

"He won't be," said Slytherin. "He knows my magic. He will be ready." A sudden gust of wind had him leaning on the tree for his support, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Harry hurried to his side and found him shaking so badly he could scarcely stand.

"Grandfather..."

"I can do this," Slytherin whispered. "It is the only thing he cannot block. I just...I just need to concentrate."

Harry nodded, and glanced back to check on Gryffindor. At the same moment Gryffindor's head turned in his direction, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. It seemed Slytherin's faith in his awareness was justified.

But his moment of distraction had cost him. A curse broke through his defence and Gryffindor stumbled just long enough for a second spell to blast him off his feet.

"No!"

Storm clouds swirled overhead but not fast enough. Harry reacted on instinct, and lunged out from behind the tree.

"Expelliarmus!"

Jarlath's wand went flying through the air. The warlock spun round with a snarl, and Harry threw himself to the ground just in time to keep a blast of wandless magic from taking his head off. Jarlath summoned his wand back a split-second later, but by then Gryffindor was on his feet again and fighting furiously.

"Go, Harry!"

Harry didn't argue. Gryffindor was in full control now, and he was pushing Jarlath back towards the lake, leaving Harry free to sprint back to Slytherin's side. His grandfather had his staff raised towards the sky, jaw clenched in concentration, but his eyes were flashing with vicious satisfaction. The air crackled and Harry jumped behind him, just as Gryffindor cast a quick glance in their direction and threw up the most powerful shield Harry had ever seen. Jarlath spun round, his own wand flicking in the movement for a shield of his own.

Jarlath was fast, but he wasn't as fast as a bolt of lightning.

The roll of thunder that followed was deafening, but not loud enough to cover the warlock's screams. Harry clapped his hands over his ears, but the sound still burned its way into his brain. He was just glad he was far enough away to avoid the stench of burning flesh.

Jarlath had done horrific things, but to go through this again...

Then the last of the colour drained from Slytherin's face, and he swayed on his feet. Harry lunged for him, but Gryffindor moved at the same time and the three of them crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Harry yelped as the breath was driven from his lungs, then Gryffindor caught both him and Slytherin into a crushing embrace.

"You're alive. You're both alive."

Harry half-expected Slytherin to pull away, but his grandfather sagged into Gryffindor's hold. Gryffindor gave a choked sob. "He told me-"

"Do not think on it," Slytherin whispered. "We're here now."

Harry nodded as best he could. William's death burned in his mind, but the words stuck in his throat. For this single moment, he allowed himself to rest in Gryffindor's arms and know that he was safe.

It was Slytherin who stirred.

"We need to burn the body," he mumbled. "If any of those markings are preserved and discovered-"

"I know," said Gryffindor gently. He still didn't let go until Slytherin squeezed his arm, and then it was with the utmost reluctance. He helped the two of them upright, and under the blood his face paled as he looked at them. "What-"

"Later," Slytherin whispered. "I...I would rather not discuss it more than once."

Harry nodded fervently, then promptly stopped when it mad his headache flare up again. He would rather wrestle a Skrewt than think about their captivity right now. Gryffindor's eyes hardened, but he nodded.

"Wait here."

He started to make his way over to Jarlath's smoking body, wand still at the ready. Before he reached it though, Slytherin let out a hiss.

"What-" Harry began, but Slytherin was already spinning, wand raised and face white with fury.

Only to fall back with a scream as a flash of red light sent his wand flying through the air. He stumbled and would have fallen if Harry hadn't caught him. Gryffindor was running back towards them, but Harry's whole attention was on Slytherin.

"Grandfather? Are you all right?"

A low moan escaped Slytherin before he clamped his jaw shut. His hand was tucked against his chest, but Harry could see enough of the horrible way it was bent to know it was broken. Gryffindor planted himself in between them and their attacker.

"I know you're there," he snarled. "Make things easy on yourself and come out."

For a moment there was no response, then a familiar dry voice echoed through the trees.

"Your wards really are quite impressive. Very well."

Out stepped a single tall wizard. It was hard to tell in the dark, but then he stepped out into the moonlight and Harry's heartrate doubled as he recognised the man who had used Legilimency on him in the cell. His hood was thrown back now, and his bald head gleamed in the light.

Gryffindor drew in a sharp breath, but it was Slytherin's reaction that caught Harry's attention. His grandfather sagged against him, all the anger in his voice fading to dull resignation,

"Zalasta."


Ron reacted without thinking. The wizard who had cursed Hermione slammed into a tree hard enough to break bones, but Ron was already on his knees running diagnostic spells.

"Come on, Hermione," he shouted. "It's all right, you're gonna be fine." The spells flashed red, and he swore. Hermione managed a strangled gurgle, her fingers clutching weakly at his sleeve, and he caught himself.

"Okay, it's a bit nasty but you're still going to be fine."

Hermione nodded, then blood spattered from her mouth as her entire body convulsed. Ron swore, the strongest pain spells he knew flying from his wand as he tried to isolate the damage. "No no no, come on, Hermione, stay with me!"

"Ron-" Hermione began, but it degenerated into a choked cough and more blood and Ron paused just long enough to squeeze her shoulder.

"No, don't talk. Your-your lungs are hurt, okay, you've just got to keep breathing." Hermione's eyes drifted closed, and he shook her. "Hermione! Listen to me! For once, please listen."

Hermione's eyelids flickered, but her fingers brushed his hand. Ron choked back his own sobs, and forced his voice to work. "Keep breathing. You have to keep breathing."

Hermione didn't respond. Even the wet rasps of her breathing had stopped.

"Hermione!"

The sounds of the battle faded into insignificance. Ron forgot the danger, forgot that he was exhausted, and threw every scrap of magic he had at the woman he loved. Every spell he had learned that might possibly help poured from his wand, and when that wasn't enough he grabbed his willow wand and started casting with that too.

"Come on, Hermione! You survived a fucking Basilisk you're not dying to a stupid curse!"

Both wands were burning hot with the amount of magic he was channeling. Ron didn't care. Hermione was alive, her heart was beating, but her ribs were broken and her lungs had collapsed and Ron was good but this wasn't exactly something he had had a chance to practice...

"Ron!"

The scream vaguely registered, but Ron was too busy draining the fluid from Hermione's chest cavity to pay attention. If he didn't get this exactly right he would do more damage and he couldn't-

A line of white fire blazed across his cheek and Ron threw up a hand on instinct. His vision went white as the heat and light overloaded his senses, but the spell was already pouring from his wand and if he stopped now he really would let Hermione die.

"Come on," he hissed. "Come on!"

The magic pulsed in just the way Hufflepuff had described, and Ron forced himself to release the spell. His vision was beginning to return, but although everything he had was focused on Hermione he didn't miss someone approaching out the corner of his eye.

"Ron-"

"Will you keep it down!" Ron bellowed. "I'm trying to save a life here!"

Too late the voice registered as Helena's, but under the circumstances Ron had more important things to worry about. Magic was still flying around him, but Helena was here and he caught sight of one of the twins as they dashed past, and that was enough for Ron to return his all his attention to Hermione.

Hermione, who still hadn't moved.

Ron bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He had done the spell properly, he knew he had. It had to work. It had to.

"Please, Hermione."

A tentative hand touched his shoulder. "Ron, I think you've done all you can."

It was the gentlest Helena had ever been with him, and at the same the worst thing she could possibly have said. He was jerking away before he knew what was happening. "Don't say that! She's not..."

Words failed him, and he whirled back to Hermione. His eyes were still funny, Hermione was just a blur, but he had to do something. There were more spells he could try, and he could find Hufflepuff and she had to know something else they could do-

And Hermione sucked in a desperate gasp of air. Her eyes flew open and she stared wildly around. "Wha - Ron?"

Then she broke into a weak splutter as Ron pulled her into her a desperate hug. Ron could hear Helena yelling and spells flying around them, but all he could do was cling to Hermione and thank every god he knew that the woman he loved still lived.

"You're all right," he whispered. "You're going to be all right."

Hermione drew back. She reached up to cup his cheek in a bloodstained hand. "Of course I am," she rasped. "I've got you."

Ron closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. "Always."

The sound of battle were fading. The werewolves had been captured, the trolls were down, and the remaining Order members were scattering. Ron could hear Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw calling orders and checking on their students, Helena and the twins hurrying about assisting them, but three voices were conspicuous by their absence. Ron drew in a sharp breath, and at the same moment Hermione tensed.

"Ron? Where's Harry?"


Harry was struggling to stay upright. He stood amidst the destruction Gryffindor and Jarlath had wrought, and all the fatigue of the last day seemed to crash down upon him. It was hard to tell if he was supporting Slytherin or if it was the other way round. Gryffindor was gasping for breath, but his wand was rock-steady and didn't waver from Zalasta's face.

Zalasta had yet to meet Slytherin's gaze.

"I thought you would have known by now."

Slytherin's good hand tightened on his staff. Harry knew it was the only thing keeping him upright, but now that he was over his shock his grandfather's fury only seemed to be increasing. "I did. I didn't want to believe it."

Zalasta sighed, spreading his arms. "What can I say? You knew what I was when you saved me."

"You bastard," Gryffindor snarled, but even as he raised his wand Slytherin shook his head. Zalasta's cocky smirk faded.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But you barely beat Jarlath the first time round. I wasn't holding out much hope that you would be able to do so a second time."

"I understand," said Slytherin quietly. "Anything to save your own skin."

Harry stared between the two of them, unable to believe what he was hearing. "He's your friend? You were his friend?" he demanded, switching his attention to Zalasta. "You threatened to torture me!"

Ozone burned in the air, and Harry belatedly realised that he had just signed Zalasta's death warrant. Judging by the way Zalasta flinched, he knew it as well as they did. Harry still had questions though, and he whirled on Slytherin.

"But how? How did you know?"

Slytherin's eyes didn't leave his former friend's. "He is the only person who knew of my interest in Horcruxes. And he knew of my...protectiveness towards you."

Zalasta snorted. "Yes, young Edmund was most helpful. His Occlumency was nowhere near as good as the boy's, and that was after he practically told me his name. He gave me everything."

"Shut up," Gryffindor growled.

Slytherin's grip had tightened on his wand. "You never believed me when I said I hadn't made a Horcrux. And that first attack... It was after I visited you. I told you I was going to see Wulfric." An edge of self-disgust had crept into his voice. "I should have seen it sooner."

Zalasta shook his head. "I told you wasting your time on children would dull your edge."

"And yet look at who is still standing," said Gryffindor. "This time you chose the wrong side."

Zalasta's gaze drifted past them, and his face twisted into a strange smile. "Are you so sure?"

It was probably a trick, but Harry was too on edge to not check. He glanced round, and couldn't suppress a yelp.

Somehow, Jarlath was dragging himself upright. Harry took a step back. If the madman had looked terrible before, it was nothing compared to the burns that covered every inch of his body. It was a miracle, or a curse that he was still alive, and there was nothing but hatred in his one remaining eye.

"You," he spat. Blood dripped onto his chest as his ruined mouth tried to form words. "How...again?"

Slytherin stared at him for a long moment, then exchanged a look with Gryffindor. Gryffindor nodded curtly and he made a sharp gesture. Jarlath's neck jerked to the side with a dull crack and he toppled back onto the grass, finally dead.

Harry stood frozen. After the battle, after the whole hellish day, such a sudden death seemed almost anti-climatic. Gryffindor squeezed his shoulder with a sigh.

"He was dying. A quick death is more than he deserved."

Slytherin nodded, but then gave a sharp hiss. In the brief distraction Zalasta had vanished. Harry tensed, but Slytherin shook his head.

"Forget him. There is nowhere he can hide from me."

Harry shivered. Slytherin's eyes were chips of ice. Harry didn't give anything for Zalasta's chances of survival. Another time he might feel sorry for him, but his head was throbbing and Zalasta's betrayal reminded him too much of Pettigrew for Harry to be able to muster any sympathy.

He was far more worried about Slytherin. His grandfather was leaning heavily on his staff, and he had made no movement towards retrieving his wand. Harry silently summoned it himself, ignoring the amount of effort it took to do so, and was rewarded with an exhausted smile from Slytherin and an approving nod from Gryffindor.

"The rest of the Order are retreating," Gryffindor said. His head was cocked to the side as he listened to Hogwarts' report. "The werewolves have been contained, and Myrddin has dealt with the Dementors. Somehow." Slytherin gave a soft huff, and Gryffindor smiled. "Let me deal with the body, and then I will take you both back."

It was a mark of how draining the day had been that Slytherin didn't even try to argue. Harry leaned into his grandfather's side, as much to reassure himself that they were both fine as to give him some support.

"It's all over," he mumbled.

Slytherin hummed. "Indeed." He was silent for a moment, and his next words were so quiet that Harry had to strain to hear them, "I have never been more proud of a student than I am at this moment."

Warmth flooded Harry's entire body. He ducked his head, knowing his face was burning bright red, a blush that only darkened when Slytherin continued, "And I am honoured beyond words that you would accept me as family."

Harry coughed. "As far as I'm concerned, you're the only blood family I have living," he said quietly. "You're the only one I need."

He had Ron and Hermione and Neville and Luna and Sirius and Ginny and all the Weasleys and they were family, more family than the Dursleys ever were, and now he had a grandfather who would and had gone through hell for him. Even after the past day, the past months, Harry couldn't regret that.

Slytherin's eyes widened at his words, then some of the tension seemed to drain from his body. He leaned into Harry's proffered support, and didn't flinch when Gryffindor rested a hand on each of their shoulders.

"All right," he said. "Let's go home."

Apparition stole the last of Harry's strength. He staggered, but Ron was there, pulling him into a desperate hug and shaking so much he nearly pulled them both over, but he was alive and safe and exactly what Harry had needed. He took a moment to glance round, and saw Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff take Gryffindor and Slytherin into an equally fierce group embrace. They didn't look like they would ever let go. Hermione was sitting up just behind them, drawn and haggard and covered in blood, but alive, and her eyes lit up at the sight of him.

Hogwarts was safe. His family were safe.

Harry closed his eyes and surrendered to unconsciousness.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated.

Come and find me on tumblr for more fanfic-related stuff: https://izzyaro.tumblr.com/

Chapter 29: When The Dust Has Settled

Notes:

I'm so sorry for the delay in updating. Thank you for all the lovely comments, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They buried William two days after the battle.

Harry was there, with Ron and Hermione. They were lucky to make it; Hufflepuff had only temporarily released him and Hermione from the Infirmary, and only on the condition that Ron kept a close eye on both of them. Slytherin was under similar restrictions, and Hufflepuff was never far from his side as they stood with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

They weren’t the only walking wounded. Just among their friends, Pollux had lost a leg to a troll, and Sigrun had been blinded. Harry barely recognised a quarter of those who had fought and bled for them. Even those who had come through without physical harm were suffering from exhaustion, and no-one had escaped the emotional trauma of such an horrific event.

Most shouldn’t have been out of bed. Not one of them would have stayed behind.

Gryffindor had returned William’s body to his family the day before. Now Harry stood beneath a sky that was insultingly clear and blue and let tears fall unchecked as his friend was placed in the grave. William had been dressed in his best clothes, and his most treasured possessions had been laid around him. His wand rested on his chest with his hands clasped over it. His face was still and calm, the usual mischievous grin gone for good, and all other details blurred as Harry allowed himself to weep.

He heard none of the words. He remembered his friend, William welcoming him into Slytherin, helping him through Runes, teasing the twins, coaching him against Edmund, showing him that Slytherin students weren’t all bullies and bigots. He remembered William making him laugh, staying up with him when nightmares got through Slytherin’s wards, and being there for him in a way that very few of Harry’s classmates ever had been.

He had been Harry’s friend, and Harry would miss him.

Afterwards, Slytherin led him over to William’s family. It was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but he had to say something. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, but just as anxiety was starting to turn to panic a gentle hand gripped his shoulder.

“They do not blame you,” said Slytherin softly. “They know who bears the responsibility for their son’s death.”

Harry frowned at the self-loathing in his voice, but then they were in front of the grieving couple and Harry had to focus on them. He had to swallow hard before he could say anything. “I’m sorry,” he managed. “William, he...he saved my life.”

William’s father gave a strangled sob and turned away. His mother’s eyes filled with tears but she summoned a watery smile. “He would do anything for his friends,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes and refocused on him. “What is your name?”

“Harry,” Harry said. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally decided what he wanted to say. “I only came to Hogwarts a few months ago. William helped me so much. He showed me round, he helped me in lessons, he supported me... He was a really great friend. And I am so sorry-”

“Harry,” William’s mother interrupted. “If you knew my son at all, you knew that he made his own decisions. He chose to save you, and I know that he would have never made any other decision.” She gave him a long look. “I would ask just one thing of you, if I may?”

“Anything,” said Harry immediately. William’s mother stepped forward, and Salazar stiffened almost imperceptibly, but she just brushed a stray lock of hair away from Harry’s forehead.

“Live well, Harry,” she said gently. “Live well.”

Harry could only nod. There was nothing he could say to that. She smiled at him one more time, then hurried after her husband. Relief left Harry’s knees weak and he let out a shaky breath. They should have blamed him, he blamed himself, but they didn’t. Then he realised that neither parent had so much as looked at Slytherin and remembered his grandfather’s words, and glanced down at him.

“It wasn’t your fault either,” he said. “You-all of you always tried to keep us safe.”

“I was his head of house, and I was the one who allowed him to accompany us,” said Slytherin quietly. Harry frowned, but before he could argue Slytherin continued, “You should return to Hogwarts. You still need rest.”

That was true, and a funeral was the last place to cause trouble, so Harry let it go for the moment. Slytherin nodded past him to Ron and Hermione. “Are the three of you able to travel by yourselves?”

Harry was slightly mollified to see that he addressed Hermione as much as him. Hermione nodded, and Ron smiled. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” he promised.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was still holding Ron’s hand. Harry nodded too. “I’ll talk to you later, Grandfather.”

As it had every time so far, the title brought a faint smile to Slytherin’s face. He inclined his head and went to rejoin Gryffindor and the others. Harry turned back to his friends, and caught a glimpse of a boy a few years younger than them. They had never been introduced, but Harry would have recognised that blond hair anywhere. The sight made his chest ache, and Harry found himself walking over to him before he even knew why.

“You’re Alfred, aren’t you?”

Alfred nodded. His eyes were red, and Harry’s own eyes stung. “I’m Harry. I was friends with your brother.”

Alfred looked away. Harry hesitated, not sure whether his presence was welcome, but just when he thought he should leave a quiet voice spoke up. “He mentioned you in his letters. He really liked you.”

“I liked him too,” said Harry quietly. He hesitated again, but as with William’s parents he had to say something. “He was funny and kind and he talked about you a lot.” Alfred’s eyes widened, and Harry managed a smile. “He was really proud of you. I just…I thought you should know that.”

The next thing he knew, Alfred had thrown his arms around his waist and was hugging him for dear life. Harry froze, then gave in and returned the hug. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered. 

“No, it won’t,” Alfred sobbed. “He’s gone!”

Harry drew back to look him in the eye. “It’ll be okay one day,” he repeated. “Whatever happens, remember that he loved you. And…and he’ll always be watching out for you.” 

Alfred didn’t look convinced. Harry didn’t blame him. He sighed. “I’m not going to be at Hogwarts for much longer, but if you want to visit-”

“I’m never going to Hogwarts!”

Harry stared. Alfred met his gaze defiantly, face flushed with tears and anger. “My brother went to Hogwarts and he died! I’m never going there!”

Harry opened his mouth, but all his arguments died on his lips when a hand fell on his shoulder. Ron met his gaze and shook his head silently, and Harry swallowed his emotions. “I understand,” he managed. He forced a smile. “Take care, Alfred.”

Alfred nodded, and Harry let him run to his mother. Ron sighed. “Mate-”

“I know, Ron.”

“This isn’t your fault, Harry,” Hermione began, but she fell silent when Ron squeezed her hand. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He had seen the damage the Order had done to his friends, and how difficult it would be for everyone to recover, but he hadn’t even considered what the series of attacks and the death of a student would mean for Hogwarts. Parents sent their children there to be safe. It would be a long time before they forgot this.

Harry knew that it wasn’t his fault, but it was still hard to believe it. 

Ron sighed again and pulled Harry into a quick hug.

“He’s upset,” he said roughly. “Hogwarts is still the safest place in the country for magical kids, and everyone knows it.”

Harry was too exhausted to argue. Hermione squeezed his arm. “Let’s go home.”

Harry nodded. Ron and Hermione separated and vanished in sharp cracks and Harry followed a moment later, but even as magic enveloped him he couldn’t help feeling like something precious had been lost forever.

Hogsmeade was well within Harry’s limits for Apparation, but he was still exhausted and the day’s events hadn’t helped. He stumbled as he landed, and only Ron’s grip on his hand kept him upright.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled. He pushed his glasses up in an attempt to stave off the growing headache, then blinked when Ron shoved a potion into his hand. “When did you start carrying these around?”

“It seemed like a good idea,” said Ron blandly. He handed another one to Hermione. “I saw you wincing.”

Hermione gave him a small smile and swallowed the potion without arguing. Harry sighed, and took his own.  The magic took effect straight away and he sighed again as the pounding in his temples eased. “You’re getting good at this.”

Even a month ago Ron would have blushed to the roots of his hair. Now he just took the empty vials back with a slight smile. “I should hope so. You both okay to head back to Hogwarts, or do you want to take a minute first?”

Harry glanced at Hermione, then at the people already sneaking looks at them, and both of them nodded at once. “Hogwarts.”

Ron smiled and gestured for the two of them to go ahead of him. Harry started up the familiar path to the castle, his mind pleasantly blank. The past few days had been insane. He had spent most of it asleep, and when he was awake he hadn’t been able to do much more than stare at the ceiling. Being kidnapped, tortured, watching his grandfather be tortured, and fighting in a pitched battle had taken its toll, and then William…

“Harry?”

Harry dragged his attention back to find Ron and Hermione both watching him. They had gotten good at knowing when he needed to be pulled out of his head, but this time Harry couldn’t even force a smile.

“I just…I still can’t believe he’s gone.” 

It wasn’t the first time someone had died in front of him. It wasn’t even the first time someone had died to save him. That didn’t make it hurt any less. Hermione gave a hiccuping sob. “I know,” she whispered. “I keep seeing it, and thinking about everything I should have done and how if I had only-”

“Stop it,” said Ron, in a surprisingly firm voice. “You’ll drive yourself mad thinking like that.” He looked down, but not before Harry saw the tears in his blue eyes. “Trust me.”

Hermione shook her head. “I can’t help it. It was all so fast, and there was nothing we could do and I don’t know how to bear it.” She paused and looked at Harry. “Was this how you felt? After…”

She trailed off without finishing the sentence, but Harry caught her meaning. Thinking about Cedric hurt just as much as it had all those months ago, and he managed to nod. Ron flinched. “I’m so sorry, mate.”

Harry blinked. That was the last thing he had expected. Ron shifted under his scrutiny. “We left you alone after that,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t matter that Dumbledore told us to. We should have known, we should have done better.”

A year ago, Harry would have been glad of the apology, but now he only felt hollow. He had never wanted them to understand, not like this. Hermione nodded, her own eyes very bright.

“I don’t know how you did it,” she said. She wiped her eyes, and gave a watery smile when Ron wrapped an arm round her shoulders. “I’m sorry we were so hard on you.”

“It’s fine,” said Harry quietly. “It doesn’t matter any more.”

Both of his friends frowned at that, but Harry suddenly couldn’t bear the current line of conversation any longer. He cast about for a distraction, and realised with an unpleasant jolt that Hermione was still rubbing her chest.

“Are you okay?”

Hermione dropped her hand immediately. “It still aches, but it’s getting better.”

Harry flinched. Thinking about how close one of his best friends had come to death hurt and he couldn’t face it and he wrenched his mind away. Ron was frowning again. “I’ll have another look at it when we get back to Hogwarts. Professor Hufflepuff mentioned another salve that might help.”

He was really getting good at this. Harry seized on the thought with relief. “You like this Healer stuff, don’t you?”

Ron nodded. “I really do. I’m going to look into it when we get back to our own time.” He sighed. “Wish I’d tried harder in my OWLs though. I dunno if I’ll be able to retake them if I don’t do well.”

Harry glanced at Hermione, half-expecting to hear an ‘I told you so’, but she just squeezed Ron’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you did well, and even if there are a few problem areas I’m sure they’ll make an exception when they see what you can do.”

“If they don’t they’re idiots,” said Harry flatly. “I bet none of their trainees have saved someone’s life in the middle of a battle before.”

Ron smiled and pulled his scarf up around his face. “Thanks. We’ll see how it goes, I guess.”

The walk back to the castle took a lot longer than usual, but even with the snow and freezing winds Harry couldn’t bring himself to mind. They needed a break, and neither him nor Hermione were in any condition to be pushing themselves. The only problem was that silence left him too much time with his own thoughts, but even as his mood started to darken again Ron coughed.

“Things are still going well with Slytherin then?”

Harry blinked, but nodded. Slytherin knew better than to try to get him to talk about things, but his quiet presence in the Infirmary had been a great help over the last couple of days. Ron shook his head. “I still can’t believe you call him grandfather.”

The memory of his and Hermione’s gobsmacked expressions the first time they had heard him call Slytherin that and not get cursed brought a smile to Harry’s lips. “I know it's not accurate,” he said, “but uncle didn’t feel right, and this does. And he likes it.”

“We know,” said Hermione. “Everyone does.”

A dreamy look had entered Ron’s eyes. “Please call him that in front of Malfoy,” he said. “I’m begging here. It’ll be even better than the ferret thing.”

Harry snorted. “Always wanted to give him a heart attack. Snape too.”

The image alone would be enough to fuel a Patronus. Hermione though looked more sober. “Do you really think he’ll come back with us?”

Ron’s own grin faded. “Dunno. He said he was thinking about it, but that was before…” He trailed off with a shrug, and glanced at Harry. 

Harry hesitated. He knew how much Slytherin loved his friends Hogwarts, but Slytherin had walked into a trap for him. Slytherin had been tortured for him. And the look on his face when Jarlath and Zalasta had threatened Harry… He shook his head. “I think he will,” he said quietly. “Maybe not yet, not until they’re sure Hogwarts is safe, but I…I don’t think he wants us to face Voldemort alone.”

“You,” Hermione corrected gently. “He doesn’t want you to face Voldemort alone.”

Harry didn’t bother to confirm it. Ron was frowning again. “You won’t be alone! We’ll be right there with you!”

Warmth flooded Harry’s body, and for the first time since the battle the weight of everything that had happened seemed to lift. Hermione nodded firmly. “We told you in first year that we’re doing this together,” she said. “Neither of us have changed our minds.”

Harry could only smile at them. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve friends like these. After a moment Ron gave a rueful chuckle. “Having Slytherin along too wouldn’t hurt though.”

Harry snorted, but Hermione sighed. “We would have the Order too. And maybe the teachers. It wouldn’t just be us.”

“Wouldn’t it?” said Harry, and despite his best efforts he couldn’t be the bitterness from his voice. “It’s always been just us before.”

He knew that the adults they knew had tried, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had been able to keep them out of danger. Hermione looked upset, but even she couldn’t deny the truth. Ron sighed. 

“We can worry about that later. Right now, you two really need to rest.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that. Everything was aching again, even with all the spells and potions. The rest of the walk passed in silence.


After everything that had happened, Hogwarts was more chaotic than ever. There were so many people wandering the halls that it almost felt like the Hogwarts Harry and the others were used to. Friends of Hogwarts and the Founders had come from all over to help fight and recover, but not all the guests were allies. Some of the werewolves had been barely more than children, others had been Muggles, but all those who had been forced into fighting had been taken under Hufflepuff’s wing. She would make sure that they were looked after.

Gryffindor had taken care of the rest.

The crowds were not good for Harry’s nerves. Every unfamiliar face registered as a threat, and after the third time he nearly hexed someone who came round a corner too fast Ron tugged them into one of the secret passages. 

“Lets see if we can go a week without cursing anyone, eh?”

Harry took a shaky breath and loosened his grip on his wand. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” said Ron gently. “Everything’s fine.”

Harry bit his lip. He didn’t like having such poor control over himself. It didn’t make him feel any better to note that Hermione was clutching her wand too, and even Ron looked relieved to be out of the crowds. It would take a while for things to get back to normal. Or as normal as life ever was for them.

They made it to the Hospital Wing without further incident, but Harry stopped short just inside the entrance. Castor was helping Pollux back into bed, his movements incredibly gentle, and Helena was standing over them. She glanced up at their entrance and met Harry’s gaze for a brief instant before pointedly looking away. Harry felt his cheeks heat up, and turned away to find both Ron and Hermione watching him.

“What?”

His friends exchanged a look, then Hermione sighed. “You should talk to her.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered. “I’d never have thought of that.” Hermione raised an eyebrow, and he rubbed his eyes. “Sorry.”

He wanted to, and had since the battle, but it wasn’t that simple. Hermione sighed again. “She helped fight a bunch of terrorists, lost one of her best friends, and found out that we’re time travellers and have been lying to her for months. You need to talk to her.”

Harry looked over at Helena. He did miss her. His crush had faded in everything that had happened over the past couple of months, but he had thought they were at least friends. She had helped him a lot, and maybe he could help her now, but not if they couldn’t even look at each other. Ron shook his head.

“And y’know what, I need to have a look at Hermione’s injuries. Off you go, mate.” 

He gave Harry a gentle, but firm shove, in Helena’s direction and drew the curtain around Hermione’s bed with a flick of his wand. Harry shot a betrayed look at the closed curtain, but a soft voice from behind him made him jump.

“Harry.”

Harry had to take a deep breath before he could turn around. Helena’s eyes were red-rimmed, but she met his gaze steadily. “Can we talk?”

Harry realised his jaw was hanging open, and closed it with a snap. “Um, yeah. Yes. We should.”

Helena nodded. She cast a quick look back at Castor and Pollux, who were talking quietly on the far side of the Infirmary, and led the way out into the corridor. Harry followed her along the passage until they came to a small alcove. There was a padded seat there, but Helena didn’t sit and neither did Harry. He shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to say, until Helena finally blew out a breath.

“I wish you had told me sooner.”

It wasn’t where Harry had expected to start, but he could deal with it. He took a shaky breath. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I… It’s hard to explain and even harder to believe.”

Helena’s lips pursed for a moment, before she inclined her head. “I would have believed Mother, if not you,” she said. She looked him up and down, and some of the stiffness left her frame. “You’re really from a thousand years in the future?”

“More or less,” said Harry. “It’s really strange, I know-”

“I live in a school of magic,” Helena interrupted. “I’ve heard stranger.”

Harry couldn’t help himself. “Really?”

Helena hesitated. “Maybe not stranger,” she allowed. “But still. I don’t like being lied to.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated. “I didn’t want to.” He hesitated, but there was something he had to say and the sooner he got it done the better. “And I’m sorry about William.”

Helena’s eyes widened, but Harry kept talking. If he didn’t, he didn’t know if he would be able to start again. “If I hadn’t been taken, and if he hadn’t come to save me, he never would have died.” The awful memory danced before his eyes, and he had to shake himself before he could continue, “He died saving me. It was my fault, and I am so sorry. If there was anything I could do, if I could go back in time and take his place I would…”

He trailed off as he finally took in the expression on her face. “What?”

“Harry,” said Helena. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and I grew up listening to Myrddin.”

Harry gaped, but Helena didn’t give him a chance to interrupt. “You didn’t kill William. You didn’t make them cast that curse. You didn’t make them attack us. They would have come after us whether you were here or not, and William would have still been in danger. Probably more danger, seeing as he wouldn’t have had you as a sparring partner for the last couple of months.”

“But-”

“No. Enough people are blaming themselves for William’s…” She looked away for a moment, and when she turned back her eyes were flashing. “There’s only one person I’m angry with, and it’s not you.”

Harry stared at her. He hadn’t left the Infirmary since the battle and had no idea what she was talking about, but Helena didn’t waste time in enlightening him. “Edmund was the one who told Zalasta that Uncle Salazar cares about you. He’s the reason you were taken. If it hadn’t been for his foolishness, his stupid jealousy-”

“Wait,” Harry interrupted. “Grandfather told me that Zalasta used Legilimency on him. It wasn’t his fault-”

“And if Edmund had been focused on his Occlumency, like Uncle told him to when going to face a dangerous Dark wizard, instead of on how much he resented you then this never would have happened!”

Harry closed his mouth. He didn’t know how to argue with that. He didn’t know if he wanted to. Helena shook her head, and took a long breath. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t blame you, Harry. Neither would William.” For the first time, she managed a shaky smile. “He chose to go and save you, because he loved you. Don’t dishonour that by taking on the responsibility for his choices.”

Harry automatically started to protest, then paused. It wasn’t an easy thing to accept, but Helena wasn’t the only one to say it. She was just the first one to be so blunt. Harry sighed and leaned back against the cool stone wall.

“I’ll try.”

It was all he could promise. Helena eyed him for a long moment, then nodded to herself. “I suppose that will suffice. For now.”

A smile tugged at Harry’s lips. Helena was a force to be reckoned with. She smiled back as she finally took a seat on the bench, but her expression soon turned wistful. “I suppose this means you will leave us soon.”

Harry sighed again. “Not soon,” he said. “But, yes. I have to stop Voldemort. He’s the man who killed my parents, and my friend. I can’t stay here while he’s out there.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but Helena held up a hand. “You don’t need to explain, Harry. I grew up with Uncle Godric, after all. I know you have to do this.” She shifted slightly on the bench. “But I will miss you. All of you,” she amended quickly, but not before a slight blush rose to her face. Harry smiled.

“I’ll miss you too.” He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, and picked at a loose thread at his sleeve. “We won’t be leaving for a while. We’ve still got loads to learn.”

“Good,” said Helena quietly. She sat back against the cushions. “Will you tell me more about the future? I know you can’t say too much,” she added. “Mother told me. But you must have seen fascinating things.” 

“I guess so,” Harry agreed. He sat down next to her and tried to think about some of his less terrifying experiences. It didn’t take along, and a grin tugged at his lips. “I once had to go back in time to stop a hippogriff from getting executed so that we could rescue my godfather who was falsely-accused of being a mass murderer.”

Helena’s eyes widened, but her voice remained remarkably level, “Let’s start with that one.”

Harry smiled. Things weren’t okay, but maybe there was a chance that they would be one day.


“We could have waited to do this.”

Salazar spared him only a brief glance before continuing to probe the remains of the wreckage. “The longer we wait, the further he can run.”

Godric grimaced, but didn’t argue. His wand flicked in the patterns Salazar recognised from their earliest travels, and he shook his head. “He’s good.”

“You found him that way once before,” said Salazar. “He will have guarded against himself against it.” He cast another spell, but had to pause when his wrist gave a sharp spike of pain. He switched his wand to his other hand, but Godric caught his wrist in a gentle grip.

“You told me you were fully recovered.”

Salazar looked away, unable to bear the compassion in his friend’s eyes. “I’m recovered enough.”

“Salazar-”

“We have to find him, Godric! Before-”

Salazar snapped his mouth shut before he could finish the sentence, but Godric’s expression had already softened. His hand heated up as he cast a wandless healing spell on Salazar’s aching wrist, but his eyes didn’t leave Salazar’s face.

“Harry is safe,” he said softly. “Everyone is.”

Salazar looked down, but didn’t try to fight when Godric pulled him into a light hug. “He won’t hurt anyone else ever again,” he said. “You and I both know that he will be running, not trying to fight back. We will find him.”

Salazar closed his eyes. “I should have dealt with him a long time ago.”

“You had no reason to do so,” Godric pointed out. “I know what he was and is, and so did you,” he continued, when Salazar started to protest. “You never trusted him, and more than once the information he gave you proved invaluable. You couldn’t have known that he would side with the Order.”

“I should have,” said Salazar bitterly. He pulled away, unable to accept the comfort he didn’t deserve, and paused as he felt a tug from one of his older, usually quiescent wards. “I know where he is.”

He paused just long enough for Godric to grip his shoulder before Apparating the two of them away. Wards surrounded their destination but rage leant strength and Salazar had been carrying enough rage to fuel a hurricane and the spells shattered under it. Salazar staggered under the backlash, but Godric was there, his own magic blazing, and there was a dull scream. 

“Do not move.”

It had been a long time since Salazar had heard Godric sound that angry. He shook the cobwebs from his head and stumbled forward. Zalasta lay on the floor, bound in ropes of golden flame, and his eyes widened as he looked up at Salazar.

“Are you really going to let him do this?”

Godric raised an eyebrow. Salazar looked down at his former friend and shook his head. “No.” Zalasta tensed, but Salazar wasn’t finished. “You’re my responsibility.”

At his words, the flames vanished and Zalasta stumbled to his feet. Salazar felt the tug of his magic, but Godric’s anti-Apparation spells were far more powerful than the ones Zalasta had managed, and his former friend flushed.

“Salazar-”

“Pick up your wand.”

Zalasta did so, his eyes never leaving Salazar’s. “I had no choice,” he insisted. “They were going to kill me.”

“You could have come to me,” Salazar hissed. Static crackled in his hair and ozone burned in the air around them. “We would have protected you. Together we could have destroyed them.”

And their students would have been safe, and William… Salazar shook his head and raised his wand.

“You knew the consequences of betraying me.”

Zalasta was fast. Salazar was faster.

Godric vanished the body with a wave of his hand and gripped Salazar’s shoulder. “Back to Hogwarts,” he said softly. “You need to rest.” 

Salazar didn’t even try to resist. The chase and confrontation had drained what little energy he had had. He closed his eyes and let Godric take them home.


Ron cast another spell, examined the results, and scratched his head. 

“Your ribs seem to be all right,” he said. “I’m not so sure about your lungs though. How do you feel?”

Hermione rubbed a hand over a hand over her chest. “Not too bad if I’m talking, or walking,” she said, “but doing both at the same time is harder.” She looked up and gave him a small smile. “But it is better than it’s been the last couple of days.”

Ron nodded. “That’s good.” He had a couple of ideas on how to speed up the healing, but he needed to check with Hufflepuff first. Organs were harder to fix than bones and muscles. He cast one of the analgesic spells he had learned to help with the Cruciatus Curse, and was glad when a little of the tension left Hermione’s shoulders. She leaned back against the pillows and squeezed his fingers.

“You really are getting good at this.”

Ron felt his ears heat up. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “But you should probably get some rest.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, but Hermione turned her head at the last moment and his lips met hers instead. Startled, he started to draw away, but Hermione cupped the back of his neck. “Ron,” she whispered. “I’m not going to break.”

Ron looked at her, saw the need in her dark eyes that matched his, and pulled her into a gentle kiss. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she deepened the kiss for a moment before drawing back. Ron let out a shaky breath.

“Wow.”

Hermione gave him a shy smile. “Wow,” she agreed. Her expression turned uncertain. “So, does this mean…”

She trailed off, cheeks burning, but Ron caught her chin. “Hermione Granger,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Hermione drew in a sharp breath. Ron held her gaze. It was true, and had been true for years, and after the last couple of days he couldn’t let any more time pass without letting her know it. 

“Ron,” she whispered. “I…I love you too.”

Warmth exploded in his chest, and in that moment, Ron could have cast the world’s brightest Patronus. He pulled her into his arms, mindful of her injuries, but Hermione clung to him with a strength that somehow didn’t surprise him in the slightest.

“I was beginning to think you were never going to say it,” she whispered.

“You could have said something too,” Ron murmured into her hair, but he was smiling so hard it hurt. Hermione relaxed against him, and Ron smiled. Hermione was fine and they were fine, better than fine. Everything was going to be okay.

Then Hermione let out a full-body shaking yawn, and Ron drew back a little. “Yeah, you need sleep,” he said softly. He brushed a lock of hair back from her face, and Hermione rested her forehead against his with a sigh. 

“Will you stay?”

“I’ll be right here,” Ron promised.  

He helped her settle back against the pillows, and watched her eyes flicker closed. She was asleep in moments, but Ron continued to hold her hand. He had come so close to losing her. His heart ached at the thought, and he shook himself. Hermione was alive, and she was going to be fine, and they had the rest of their lives to look forward to.

A grunt echoed from the other sound of the Hospital Wing, and Ron twitched the curtain back in time to see Pollux bang his head back on the pillow. He squeezed Hermione’s hand in silent apology, then got to his feet and made his way over there.

“Did you need something?”

Pollux waved a listless hand. “Nah. Bored.” His eyes flickered to Ron before returning to the ceiling. “Sent Castor to get some food. And a bath.”

“Good,” said Ron quietly. Castor hadn’t left his brother’s side since the battle, and it was taking its toll. Ron had been planning on talking to the two of them the following morning, so he was glad that they had taken matters into their own hands. Pollux’s demeanour was worrying him though, and he dropped into the seat next to the bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Really fed up of being asked that,” Pollux muttered, but then he sighed. “My foot hurts. The one that isn’t there,” he added, when Ron squinted at his uninjured leg. “It really doesn’t seem fair somehow.” He scowled up at Ron. “You’re the healer, anything you can do?”

Ron chewed on his lip. He was getting pretty good at healing physical injuries, but he wasn’t sure how to fix something that, well, wasn’t there any more. Hufflepuff wasn’t back yet either. Still, his friend was hurting and that wasn’t the sort of thing Ron could ignore, and so he pulled out his larch wand.

“I’ll try.”

The diagnostic spells didn’t turn up anything he didn’t already know, but at least the stump was healing well. Ron frowned, and cast an experimental numbing spell. “How’s that?”

Pollux shook his head. “Nothing.” He glared at his leg. “How can it hurt when it’s not even there any more?”

Ron could only shake his head. His studies hadn’t covered anything like this. He chewed on his lip and tried to think. There had probably been loads of research done in the future, but that wasn’t any good to him now.

Maybe he was going about this wrong. There was no injury for him to heal so the pain had to be coming from somewhere else, but the targeted spells he had been taught wouldn’t be much help. Ron’s eyes drifted to the side room where Hufflepuff kept her medicines.

“When was your last pain potion?”

Pollux blinked up at him. “Uh, this morning? Just after dawn?”

Ron glanced out the window to check the position of the sun and nodded to himself. “Should be fine. I’ll be right back.”

Both Hufflepuff and Slytherin had taken the time to emphasise the dangers of taking too many powerful potions too close together, but it had gone midday and the potion was designed to affect to numb the ability to feel pain throughout the body and Ron was out of other ideas. He selected one of the stronger potions and hurried back to his friend.

“Try this. If it doesn’t help I’ll go and find Hufflepuff.”

Pollux pulled a face, but swallowed the potion without arguing. Ron watched anxiously, and after a moment Pollux sagged back against the pillows. “Huh. That did help.”

Ron blew out a breath. “Good.” 

Pollux nodded drowsily, eyes starting to drift closed, and Ron stepped back. That was the other nice thing about the potions. Pollux needed sleep, but like all those who had fought, dreams had made that difficult. This might help.

A knock on the door broke Ron from his thoughts, and he looked round to find one of the younger Hufflepuffs hovering in the doorway. He pushed his own weariness aside and smiled.

“You okay, Cassie?”

Cassandra cocked her head in confusion, but shuffled inside. “I...Okay?”

“Are you all right?” Ron amended. Six months and he was still doing stuff like that. It didn’t help that Cassandra was probably speaking Greek or Arabic, or whatever the ancient versions were, but at least she recognised his smile and returned it, albeit shakily.

“I...You’re busy. It’s not important. Sorry-”

“Hang on,” Ron interrupted. “What’s wrong?” He looked closer, and frowned at how red her eyes were. Cassandra looked on the verge of fleeing though, so Ron crouched until he was closer to her eye level. “What happened?”

Cassandra hesitated, then slowly held out her right hand. Her wrist was swollen, and Ron winced in sympathy. “Ouch. C’mon, let’s get this sorted.”

He picked her up and carefully deposited her on the nearest bed, and was glad when the gesture elicited a weak giggle. Ron smiled and pulled out his wand. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“I fell,” Cassandra mumbled. “It hurts.”

“I know,” said Ron gently. “Nearly done.” He cast one more spell, just to confirm his suspicions, and nodded. “It’s just a sprain. Hold still for me.”

Cassandra screwed her face up, and Ron touched her wrist very lightly with the tip of his wand. He skin warmed for a second, then Cassandra cracked open one eye. Ron smiled at her. “All done.”

Cassandra looked slightly dubious, but her eyes widened when she flexed her fingers. “It doesn’t hurt any more!” She beamed up at him. “Thank you, Ron!”

“You’re welcome,” said Ron. “Now I’ve just got to get some medicine.”

Cassandra’s face fell. Ron covered a grin with effort and cleared his throat. “Tenby.”

The house-elf appeared with a crack and a bow, and Ron smiled. “I need some of Professor Hufflepuff’s special medicine, please?”

Tenby winked at him. “Of course, sir.”

Cassandra tugged at Ron’s sleeve. “Do I need medicine? I feel much better, really.”

“Sorry,” said Ron. “Rules are rules.”

Cassandra pouted, but her eyes widened when Tenby snapped his fingers. A piping hot honey cake appeared on a small plate, and the elf presented it to her with a deep bow. “Your medicine, Mistress.”

“That-that’s not medicine,” Cassandra spluttered.

“It is if I say it is,” said Ron, with a grin. “Go on, enjoy it.”

Cassandra eyed him for a long moment, then grinned back. “Thank you, Ron, thank you, Tenby!” She took the cake and slid off the bed, her usual good nature completely restored. “Bye, Professor Hufflepuff!”

Ron spun round to see Hufflepuff watching from the doorway. She patted Cassandra’s head as she rushed by, then fixed Ron with a warm smile. “Well done.”

“How long have you been there?” Ron asked. “Thanks, Tenby,” he added, when the house-elf cleared his throat. Tenby dipped his head in acknowledgement and vanished, and Hufflepuff crosses the room to stand next to him.

“Just after Cassandra did. I would have come in, but you seemed to have everything under control.”

Ron felt his ears heat up, and he ducked his head. “Thanks. Oh, Hermione’s asleep but I had to do that pain spell on her again, and Pollux was having pain in the leg he doesn’t have any more and the spells weren’t working so I gave him one of Slytherin’s potions and that seemed to help and he’s asleep too now-”

“Breathe, Ron,” said Hufflepuff gently. She waved her wand over Hermione, then over Pollux. Ron waited, shifting from foot to foot, until she finally turned back to him. “I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”

Ron blew out a long breath. “I wasn’t sure what to do about Pollux,” he admitted. “How can it still hurt when it’s not there?”

Hufflepuff sighed. “It’s a peculiar phenomenon, but unfortunately not an uncommon one in these sorts of injuries. Sometimes it improves with time.” She shook her head. “There are a few options we can explore. For now, it’s important that he rests as much as possible, and the potions will let him do that.”

“But he can’t take too many of them,” Ron checked. One of his dad’s friends had got addicted to potions and that was the last thing Pollux needed, but Hufflepuff was nodding.

“It’s just while he gets over the initial shock,” she assured him. “Once he’s a little more recovered we’ll start on a proper treatment plan.” She patted Ron’s shoulder. “But I’m very pleased that you considered that.”

Ron basked in her approval. He still wasn’t used to being the sole focus of someone’s attention for a good reason. Automatically his eyes went to Hermione to see her reaction, only to be brought down to reality with a harsh jolt at the sight of her lying pale and still on the bed. Hufflepuff followed his gaze.

“She will be all right, Ron,” she said. “We’ve done everything we can.”

“I know,” Ron mumbled. He took Hermione’s limp hand, and wished she would squeeze back. “I just can’t lose her.”

There was a long pause, then Hufflepuff guided him into into a chair with a light touch. She sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around him. “You won’t.”

She barely came up to his shoulder, but Hufflepuff still gave the best hugs. Ron leaned against her, all the while keeping his eyes on Hermione’s face. He tightened his grip on Hermione’s hand.

“I told her I loved her.”

Hufflepuff stilled, then somehow hugged him even tighter. “I’m so proud of you.”

Ron hugged her back as best he could while keeping hold of Hermione. Hufflepuff’s hugs were nearly as good as his mum’s. “Aren’t you gonna ask what she said?”

Hufflepuff chuckled. “I don’t need to.”

Warmth bubbled up in Ron’s chest. Hermione shifted slightly in her sleep, and Ron sagged against the the chair. He had known his own feelings ever since the stupid Yule Ball, but he had never dared to let himself think about it. Hermione was brilliant. Clever, passionate, strong... How could someone as amazing as her ever want him?

But she loved him too. She had said so. Ron huffed out a weak laugh. 

“We wasted so much time.”

He was talking to himself more than anything else, but Hufflepuff suddenly flinched. Ron froze, then understanding crashed in and he winced. “I’m sorry.”

Hufflepuff shook her head. Ron shifted. Not knowing how Hermione felt about him had been bad. Knowing he loved her but knowing she would be going a thousand years away... He couldn’t begin to imagine what that would be like. Hufflepuff shivered, and Ron hugged her tight.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a stupid thing to say, but what else was there? Hufflepuff let out a long breath, then shook herself and offered him a small smile. “Thank you, Ron.”

For a moment she looked like she would continue, but then her head suddenly snapped up. Familiar with that behaviour after the last few months, Ron pulled back in time to see Gryffindor and Slytherin appear in the doorway.

Hufflepuff was halfway to them before Ron had even let go of Hermione’s hand. Not that Ron could blame her; Gryffindor looked fine, but he was practically carrying Slytherin. Ron scrambled over to help, and Gryffindor greeted him with a nod.

“Ron. Thank you for keeping an eye on things here.”

“No problem,” said Ron, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from Hufflepuff and Slytherin. She had guided him back over to his bed with a gentle word. Her hand cupped his cheek, and Slytherin leant into her touch with no trace of his usual hesitancy. 

It was an unusually intimate scene, and Ron looked away quickly. Gryffindor’s hand landed on his shoulder, and Ron took a breath. “Are you all right, sir?”

Gryffindor blinked, then his eyes softened. “Well enough. It is done now. And what about you?”

“I’m fine,” said Ron quickly. “I wasn’t even hurt.”

He knew he’d made a mistake when Gryffindor quirked an eyebrow. “Perhaps not,” the older wizard said. “But you have been assisting here ever since. Helga has been singing your praises,” he added, when Ron stared. “And it is not easy work. You have done very well.”

That was far too much praise from people he admired. Ron scrambled desperately for something to say, only to freeze when Gryffindor squeezed his shoulder. “You should be very proud of yourself, Ron. I know I am.”

All the stress and exhaustion of the last few days evaporated. The Infirmary blurred, and Ron hurriedly wiped his eyes before he could embarrass himself any more. “I...Thank you.”

Gryffindor pulled him in for a brief, but fierce hug. “You did the work, lad,” he murmured. He let go, and guided Ron over to the desk. “But now I think it’s time you took a break. What do you say to a game of chess?”

Ron smiled back. His friends were safe, and his teachers were proud of him. Life was good.


“Oh, you’ve met the mermaids too? They truly are fascinating, aren’t they?”

Harry pulled a face. “They’re interesting, I guess. I didn’t get time to stop and chat.” At Helena’s raised eyebrow he elaborated, “It was part of a competition. I had to get to their village, find something, and get back in less than an hour.”

“That is quite a competition,” said Helena after a moment.

Harry managed a smile. That was one way of putting it, but for once thinking about the Triwizard Tournament didn’t leave him shaking at the thought of the graveyard. Helena was a surprisingly good listener. Harry hadn’t been able to tell her much about the future, but he had had more than enough stories to keep her interested. 

It was nice, talking to someone about something that wasn’t life or death. Or at least, was as light-hearted as his life ever got. Harry was actually starting to relax when a voice echoed down the corridor.

“Helena? Harry?”

Harry started. He would never get used to the Founders being able to locate them so easily. Helena, though, just rolled her eyes. “We’re right here, Mother.”

Harry got to his feet as Ravenclaw rounded the corridor. She looked as exhausted as he felt, and the crease in her brow eased at the sight of them. “I saw you leave early.”

Harry flinched. Talking with Helena had been a good distraction, but now memories of William were crowding in again. Helena stiffened, but Ravenclaw shook her head. “Forgive me. I just wanted to make you sure you were both well.”

“We are,” Helena promised, but at the same moment Harry let loose a jaw-cracking yawn. He blushed under the identical appraising looks turned his way.

“Sorry.” The potions Ron had given him had long since worn off, but the conversation had been enough to keep his mind off of it. Now, he was forcibly reminded of just how much everything ached, and how much he really hated the Cruciatus Curse. Helena huffed.

“You should be resting.”

“I wasn’t doing anything tiring,” Harry protested, but arguing with Helena required far more energy than he currently possessed, especially when Ravenclaw was watching, and Harry surrendered to the inevitable. “Fine.”

Helena and Ravenclaw hovered on either side as they headed back to the Infirmary. Harry couldn’t bring himself to mind. He knew he had given everyone a scare when he passed out. He forced off the residual embarrassment and coughed.

“Um, Professor?”

Ravenclaw glanced up at him. “Yes, Harry?”

He hadn’t realised he was now taller than her too. It was a weird feeling, and Harry hurriedly pressed on. “Is Grandfath- I mean, Professor Slytherin back?”

Ravenclaw’s eyes softened. “He is.”

Harry’s heart leapt. He quickened his pace, only to pause when Ravenclaw laid a hand on his arm. “And if Salazar is happy with that term of address, and I know he is, then you need no other with us.”

Warmth flooded Harry’s chest. Helena bumped his elbow with hers. “Listen to her, Cousin.”

Harry tripped on thin air. Helena laughed. “I know, I know, but the real relationship is far too complicated.  Besides, I always wanted a cousin.”

She held his gaze, and Harry nodded. He got both the messages loud and clear. It took him a minute, but he was able to smile back. “My cousin’s a prat. I always wanted a better one.”

“And now you do,” said Helena firmly.

Harry nodded. He had known Helena would never allow anything to happen between them ever since she learned the truth, but she wasn’t withdrawing completely. He could accept that. Her friendship was worth more than anything else.

Harry shook his head. At least Ron and Hermione would stop badgering him now. He followed Ravenclaw into the Infirmary, and automatically checked the beds. Hermione was asleep, but Ron was smiling as he played chess with Gryffindor so she had to be all right. In between them, Hufflepuff hovered over Slytherin, and Harry hurriedly over.

“Did you find him?”

Slytherin looked exhausted, but he gave a slight smile as he met Harry’s gaze. “We did. He will never harm anyone ever again.”

The last of the tension left Harry’s body. Slytherin’s smile had faded though, and Harry shifted. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I know he was your friend.”

“Once,” said Slytherin softly. “But he made his choice.”

Harry chewed on his lip for a moment. He knew there was nothing else Slytherin could have done, but still. Hufflepuff excused herself with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder, and on impulse Harry sat down on the bed next to Slytherin.

“Thank you, Grandfather.”

It had been two days, and Slytherin still looked surprised whenever Harry called him that. Not that Harry could blame him. Saying it still sent a thrill through him. After a moment, Slytherin relaxed and the smile that touched his face was much more genuine. “You never have to thank me for that, Harry.”

The warmth in his voice settled Harry’s nerves the way few things did any more. After the past few days, he trusted his grandfather more than he thought he would ever trust any adult. Something of that must have shown, for the last of the tension drained from Slytherin’s body.

“Are you all right? I know this morning was...difficult.”

“Yeah, it was,” Harry admitted. “But I’ll be fine.” He looked Slytherin over more closely. “What about you?”

“I will also be fine.”

Identical snorts sounded from Ron and Hufflepuff. Harry scowled at his best friend, only to be met by an unrepentant shrug. 

“You ready for another potion?”

“Yes,” said Harry reluctantly.

Ron nodded to himself, and left the chess game to fetch the potions. Gryffindor chuckled, undeterred by the raised eyebrow Slytherin gave him. Hufflepuff just shook her head and waved her wand quickly over Harry.

“Not as bad as I feared, but you could use some rest. You too,” she added, with a pointed look at Slytherin. “Thank you, Ron,” she said, as he brought the potions over.

“Thank you,” Slytherin echoed, and accepted the potion with far more grace than Harry did. Ron nodded, then his eyes suddenly widened.

“Hermione?”

Harry’s wand was in his hand before he registered the delight in Ron’s voice, and he turned to find Hermione blinking round at them. Ron was at her side in an instant.

“Are you okay? You’ve only slept a couple of hours.”

Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and accepted his help in sitting up. Her face paled as she did so, but barely had her hiss of pain escaped before Ron cast another pain-relieving spell. She squeezed his hand as her eyes found Harry’s. “Harry?”

Harry glanced at Helena, and smiled. “Everything’s fine.”

Helena nodded back, a slight smile of her own on her face, and Hermione sank back against the cushions. “Good.” 

She refocused on Ron, and Harry smiled at the looks they gave each other. Harry let out a long breath. His family were safe and healing. There was no more danger from the Order. He let himself lean against Slytherin, and his grandfather not only accepted the action but shifted so that Harry was more comfortable. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

It was at that moment that Ravenclaw cleared her throat. Harry glanced round at her, but was too comfortable to move. Ravenclaw looked round at the room.

“Now that everyone’s here, and conscious, I have some news. News from a few days ago actually, but with everything that’s happened...” 

Gryffindor wrapped an arm around her, and Ravenclaw smiled up at him before continuing, “Anyway. I have made considerable progress on the time-travel calculations.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He had waited so long to hear those words. Ron drew in a sharp breath and Hermione sat up, but Slytherin tensed. His face was completely blank, but Harry saw his eyes go to Hufflepuff. Harry swallowed, but Ravenclaw was speaking again and Harry dragged his attention back.

“It is extremely complex, and will require all four of us working in unison to succeed. It will also need to be performed at the Solstice.”

Slytherin could have been carved from stone. Harry frowned, then he remembered the discussions he had overheard and his stomach lurched.

“The Winter Solstice is next week,” Helena whispered.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had spent so long wanting to go home, to make sure his friends were safe, to find Sirius, but now that it was all within arm’s reach he found himself hesitating. He could feel a constant tremor running through Slytherin’s body, saw his grandfather’s eyes locked on Hufflepuff, and how she had yet to look away from him in turn. Gryffindor’s smile looked painful, and Ravenclaw showed none of her usual satisfaction in a problem solved.

They didn’t want them to leave, and as Harry tried to sort through the emotions swirling within them he found that he couldn’t blame them. The Founders were as much his family as Ron and Hermione. Harry had learned so much from them, had fought beside them, and been saved by them.

He couldn’t bear the thought that all that could be broken in one week.

But maybe it didn’t.

Harry took a deep breath and straightened. Slytherin somehow tensed even further, and Harry leaned into him for a moment before focusing on Ravenclaw.

“This ritual...Is there any reason it has to be this Solstice?”

Ravenclaw blinked, but shook her head. “Certainly not. That particular aspect of the calculations is fairly simple to adjust.” Then her eyes widened. “I see.”

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, saw their dawning understanding and agreement, and looked back at his grandfather. “We do still have a lot to learn.”

The joy in Slytherin’s eyes cemented his decision. They would have to return to the future eventually. Voldemort had to be stopped. But for now Hermione was smiling and Ron was nodding, and Hufflepuff looked happier than Harry had seen her in what felt like weeks. Gryffindor beamed and clapped Harry on the back.

“And we shall be happy to have you for as long as you wish to stay.”

Harry grinned back. Slytherin looked between the two of them, a frown creasing his forehead, before his gaze finally settled on Harry. “Are you quite certain of this?”

“Yes,” said Harry firmly. 

He had never been so sure of anything in his life. Slytherin gripped his shoulder tightly, the gesture conveying his feelings more eloquently than words ever could, and Harry nodded. 

They would have to go back one day. There was no avoiding that. But not yet. For now, they would learn, and love, and become a proper family. For now, this was right.  

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated.

Once again, apologies for the slow update. As some of you may know, I work for the NHS, and the past year has been, well. You know. I'm hoping to complete this story by the end of the year, and start on the sequel, but we'll see. Thank you for your continued support, I really do appreciate it.

Come and find me on Tumblr for news about updates and extras: https://izzyaro.tumblr.com/

Notes:

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