Ye Olde Magick
Prologue
SUMMARY: Harry plans to save Cedric via timetravel but something goes terribly wrong. The Golden Trio are sent back to Merlin/Founders Era where they find themselves in a war against the Dark Lady, Morgana Le Fay. Animagus, wandless magic, curses, parseltongue, phoenixes, merpeople, werewolves. Canon until GoF, AU afterwards.
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing save this fanfiction's plot and some OC characters.
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Merlin, Prince of Enchanters, raised his Oak wand and brandished it in the air. At the same time, the church bell began ringing, for it was midnight. The night was pitch-black but the lack of sight didn't deter the great wizard's actions.
Golden mist swirled out of Merlin's wand and floated to the air. Rich music reverberated in the empty night as the mist settled upon eleven other figures.
Taking a deep breath Merlin began singing with the melody of the music. He sang in Latin, his baritone voice impossibly soft, and yet deep.
As the song progressed, the other people added their part too, but their melody consisted of various animal sounds - ranging from a rooster's cry, and tiger's roar, to a horse's neigh. Together, the eerie song sounded quite otherworldly as the animal calls blended with one another to create one strong tune which mirrored Merlin's.
At was a mystical sight, twelve people standing in a ring, as the golden mist churned around them illuminating the night. Other colours blossomed and sprang forth, mixing with the solid golden light. It was as if a rainbow had formed around them, secured by the sheer magic of the song.
And then, the cackling laughter of Morgana Le Fay erupted from the sky. And everything faded to black.
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A thousand years later...
It was the first week of the start of a new year at Hogwarts and Harry Potter could be found crying, face down, in his bed. His cries were silent sobs as he mulled over the death of his late friend, Cedric Diggory. To add to Harry's misery, it seemed to him as if the entire wizarding population was against him, thinking as though Harry had gone insane as he claimed that a certain dark lord had returned.
As Harry's eyes pressed against his now wet pillow, desperate thoughts raced across his head. There was one line of phrase which kept reoccurring in his head, Cedric Diggory died because of you... Cedric Diggory died because of you...
The more this line repeated in Harry's mind, the more he chose to believe it. And the more he chose to believe it, the more he wanted to somehow reverse what he had done. Harry twisted from his pillow onto his back and laid staring listlessly at the ceiling of his four-poster bed.
If there was a way to reverse the effects of the killing curse… Harry's heart quickened its pace as a crazy thought occurred to him. If he went back in time... and undo his actions... perhaps Cedric's life would be preserved.
Harry blinked, Hermione's words of wisdom about time travel echoing back.
"The past cannot be changed. If you go back in time and attempt to alter the past, you would only be fulfilling history – not changing it. You cannot change the past because it is already written," she had explained.
Harry's expression darkened. No, Hermione was wrong. You can change the past. I will bring back Cedric. A part of Harry screamed that this wasn't true and that he just wanted the easy way out but the guilt over Cedric overpowered Harry's rational side of him.
So it was on that fateful night that turned the life of Harry Potter upside down.
With the aid of the Marauder's map and an Invisibility Cloak, a certain Gryffindor crept towards the Restricted Section of the school library, mirroring his First-year steps when he wanted to uncover the mystery of Nicolas Flamel.
"Lumos," Harry whispered, lifting his wand up. He stood in a pool of light, between two looming shelves. Piles of books were littered here and there on the floor, threatening to trip Harry and he manoeuvred through.
Scanning the moth-bitten books on a mouldy wooden shelf for any mention of time travel, Harry traced a finger over the dusty columns of ancient text books. Harry's face was still tear-stained and his guilt was still tearing him apart but he nevertheless disregarded his feelings for the sake of some answers.
Harry was sure that he had once come across a book about time travel. After all, this was the place where Hermione searched to find answers. The library was filled with texts of just about everything. It was a collection of knowledge passed down from the Hogwarts founders themselves.
After a few minutes of browsing, Harry plopped himself onto a chair and rubbed his temples in agitation. How hard was it to find a book on time travel? Surely it had once been a widely debated issue.
In desperation, Harry pulled out his wand of his sleeve and murmured, "Accio book about time."
As Harry predicted, no book flew out towards him. Nevertheless he tried again, frowning as he did so.
"Accio time book."
He tried again.
"Accio time travelling book."
And again.
"Accio book time... Accio book of time... Accio timeline book..."
It was on the fifth try when Harry finally noticed the book which he had been searching for. Springing up from his sitting position, he rushed towards an old faded manuscript titled, "Tempore Magicis". Harry often prided himself in his advanced knowledge of Latin phrases and was glad to put them to good use. "Tempore Magicis" translated to "Time Magic." For a moment, Harry wondered why his Summoning Charm hadn't worked but then dismissed it, since he had other pressing matters at hand.
Like other books on the shelf, Tempore Magicis was at least two inches wide and was covered with greying leather. As Harry tugged it down from the shelf, another thinner, not-so-old book tumbled down with it.
"Ooft!" Harry yelped and the heavy volume collapsed onto him. The boy tripped over himself and landed on the floor, groaning in the process. The second book had tumbled over and wedged itself between the pages of Tempore Magicis.
Harrry's eyes flickered about for any sign of Filch or Mrs. Norris catching him even though he had already checked the Marauder's map. Taking another glance at the rough faded parchment, Harry noted that Snape was on patrol, striding down a corridor which led directly to the library.
Panicking slightly, Harry stuffed Tempore Magicis with the smaller book still stuck between the pages into his book bag, threw the Invisibility Cloak over himself and hurried back to his dormitory.
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Hermione was having an awful day. Quite similarly to her friend Harry, she too was receiving bullying from her peers. Lavender Brown was having an awfully good time tormenting Hermione about being friends with an "attention-seeking liar".
She shared a dormitory with Lavender, Katie Bell and Pavarti Patil. Pavarti had ignored Hermione for most of the time while Katie had offered Hermione comforting words and sided with her against Lavender. But while Katie had left to get changed, Pavarti had chosen that moment to taunt Hermione further by kicking the unfortunate Crookshanks out of the girl's dorm.
Hermione scrambled to her feet just as Crookshanks had scurried out of sight. She passed no comment to Pavarti, although swearing to the twin inside her head a few times, and ran down the stairs in an attempt to catch her familiar.
Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have brushed off the thought that her intelligent familiar was running loose somewhere in Hogwarts but tonight proved that it was dangerous for the half-Kneazle lest someone find and torment him as a cruel act of revenge for Hermione's friendship with Harry.
"Locant Crookshanks," Hermione hissed as she sprinted down the stone staircase, her wand directing to her familiar. To her surprise, Crookshanks had scrambled towards the boy's dormitory. Blushing slightly at the prospect of someone finding her in the wrong side of the Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the night, Hermione placed a simple Notice-me-not charm on herself and ventured into Harry's dorm room where she had last seen her cat enter.
Tiptoeing silently, Hermione entered the room to find Crookshanks curled up asleep on Harry's otherwise-empty four-poster bed. Frowning at Harry's whereabouts, Hermione picked up Crookshanks, taking extra care not to awaken the other boys in the room and hurried out. Where on earth would Harry be so late out at night?
As if on cue, the all-too-familiar messy top of Harry came into sight as Hermione began her descent down the stairs.
"Harry James Potter, where have you been?" Hermione whispered angrily to the surprised boy, as she clutched Crookshanks close to her.
Harry almost tripped over at the unexpected sight of Hermione scowling at him in the middle to the stairs.
"I-I was just..." Harry stuttered, bewilderment colouring his eyes.
Hermione was about to berate her friend further when she noticed the puffy red eyes and the tear stained cheeks. Her expression softened and she walked to Harry, embracing him instinctively. Harry stumbled back at Hermione's sudden show of affection, apparently too stunned to say anything.
Suddenly realised at what she just did, Hermione jerked back and slight pink blush colouring her cheeks. When she saw that Harry had been crying, she couldn't help it but had to comfort her friend.
"Oh, Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione whispered, changing her tone entirely.
Harry blinked before lowering his eyes in embarrassment at being caught crying.
"It's nothing," he finally said.
Hermione snorted. "Tell me another one."
"Alright, it's just... I'm so guilty over Cedric and..." Harry chewed on his lip before saying, "... I wanted to see if I could any way to bring him back."
Hermione gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.
"You can't possibly mean resurrection? That's dark magic, Harry! Dark magic!" She exclaimed, fuming.
"I know that! I thought that maybe I could turn back time, instead."
"What? You can't do that! You can't mess with time! Harry, what are you thinking?" Hermione reprimanded, suddenly aware of the mess Harry was getting himself into and suspicious of the boy's sanity.
"Hermione? Don't you see? Cedric died because of me!"
"No he didn't. Cedric was killed by V-Voldemort!"
"But I brought him there in the first place!"
"You were just a part of trap and so was he."
"No. You don't understand." Harry pushed past Hermione and stormed towards his room, slamming the door behind him.
Hermione sighed and covered her face, sliding down to ground. What is Harry thinking? You cannot mess with time. Why doesn't he get that into his thick skull?
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As soon as Harry was in his dormitory, he instantly regretted his actions towards Hermione. He knew she only had his best interests at heart but she couldn't see that Harry was desperate to bring Cedric back. Hermione was an intelligent witch when it came to academics, but when it came to raw emotions and feeling, she was totally clueless.
Harry shook his head, placing that problem to the back of his mind as he opened up Tempore Magicis. The smaller book from earlier slid out and Harry could now take a good look at it. It was a tome covered with crimson leather and bound by a parchment-coloured ribbon. A small metal plaque was attached to the cover and read, 'Animagi – Mastering the skill'.
Raising an eyebrow, Harry placed the book to the bedside table, promising to himself, that he'll take a look at it later on. He was fascinated by the fact that the Marauders could shapeshift, and Harry hoped that he could someday follow in their footsteps to continue the Marauder legacy.
Yawning, Harry crawled into his bed and hid under his blankets. He didn't want to risk waking up the other boys, too tired to explain himself. With a whispered lumos, Harry slipped under the blankets and flipped open his stolen book. He began scanned the contents on the rough faded parchment. Upon the first page, he read:
Time magick is one of the most ancient and advanced magicks which you will ever come across. Used incorrectly, it can have devastating effects such as intense pain likened to the cruciatus, becoming lost between two timeframes, and in some extreme cases, death.
Time magic dates far back to 170 B.C although some sources claim that it is the date is further. The "modern" time magic used today as in time-turners was discovered by Harold Peverell and his wife Hermione Peverell some time sometime during 1100s A.D...
At the last sentence, Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes. He didn't want to be reminded of a certain Hermione Granger. Frowning, Harry flipped to a different page.
Skimming over the description and process of creating a time turner, Harry's eyes rested on a spell which claimed to have the same properties of a time turner but didn't require the object. Tracing a finger on the spell, Harry made a mental note of the incantation.
"Rewind horologii ad rescribo historia."
It was a lengthy spell, as Harry noted, no doubt at a Seventh Year level if not higher. Despite this, Harry was determined to master the spell. It was a pity that Hermione couldn't help him with this spell. She would have been a great help.
Harry read and reread how to say the incantation and the wand movements. The wand movements were particularly important because the number of waves made contributed to how far the user intended to go back.
Harry whispered the words over and over again in his head and moved his hand in the complicated pattern required. He only had one chance at this and he was not going to mess up.
"Rewind horologii..." He muttered as he moved his hand up. "...ad rescribo historia." Harry gave a flick of the wrist and a slight roll of the imagined wand. Of course, his real wand was tucked underneath his pillow and Harry didn't want to risk performing the spell accidently as he practised.
"Rewind horologii ad rescribo historia... Rewind horologii ad rescribo historia..."
After about a hundred more tries, Harry found himself becoming drowsy. His head unconsciously lowered onto his soft pillow and he was beginning to feel the effects of his lack of sleep. But tomorrow would be Saturday and there was plenty of time to sleep in, Harry reasoned. So Harry struggled to perfect his spell to the best of his ability. According to Tempore Magicis, the less amount of time elapsed, the easier and efficient the spell would be.
"Rewind horologii ad rescribo..." Harrydroned, feeling very much like Binns. Very boring and listless.
"Harry!"
"...historia."
A white beam of light burst from Harry's hand and illuminated the previously-dark dormitory. The brilliant light twisted violently and spun around the air, just as Hermione burst into the room. But Harry was frozen with shock at what he'd done, to notice this. Hermione didn't hesitate, she barged into the room and roughly pushed Harry away from the light in a vain attempt to stop the spell. The pair fell off his bed, tripped over his book bag and roughly landed onto Ron's bed.
Then, as quickly as the light came, it disappeared - but not before engulfing Harry. He felt the painful sensation of being pulled, much like a Portkey, and the last thing Harry remembered was someone demanding him with alarm clearly in their tone:
"Who art thou and thy friends?"
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A/N:
I tried to go for a more original type of story. Please review if you are interested! Thanks.