So this is just something I thought up while I was being bored in my English class! While it is one of those cliché Harry-travels-back-in-time-to-save-everybody-and-n o one-knows-who-he-is kind of stories, it's not a typical one. Please give this story a try! It starts off a little slow but I have a lot of action planned once the ball gets rolling. Please review! I love reviews!
CHAPTER ONE: The One Where The Light Loses
AKA Where The Bloody Hell Am I?
"Godric," the portrait of a tall, regal looking man with midnight black hair and piercing grey eyes said in a whisper.
"Shush! You'll wake the poor boy! What's so important?" came an irritated reply. An icy glare was thrown at the buff man in the next portrait over but was quickly reverted back to the silhouette of a young man sleeping on a plain bed. Grey eyes melted instantly and filled with worry.
"I…believe it's almost time. The castle's scared. She says to be ready," Salazar Slytherin said in a monotone voice, but his face gave him away; his jaw clenched tight. A pregnant pause followed the declaration.
"I know, I know!" A heavy sigh filled the room and the voice continued on, softer this time. "I felt it this morning. I was hoping it was just a fluke, but I can feel her resignation. Someone should wake him up." Another pause; this one longer.
"Harry dear," came the melodic voice of Rowena, "Harry wake up."
Godric and Salazar gave a simultaneous sigh of relief; neither wanted to be the one who would give the news. The dark figure jumped up out of the bed and a second later a wand was held tight in one hand and a wicked looking blade in the other. The figure crouched down as if it were a predator ready to pounce on anyone or anything who dared to challenge it.
"Rowena?" the figure asked, no trace that he had just been sleeping in his voice.
"Yes child, you need to get ready now. It's almost time; I suggest you make the most of the time you have left my dear Harry," Rowena said softly quietly, her voice filled with sadness.
Harry Potter straightened up and tucked his wand up inside his sleeve and into the holster that the Three Founders knew was hidden beneath. He, almost lazily, waved his hand above his head in a swoop. The room was instantly flooded with light as knives, potions, and a few rolled up pieces of parchment from around the room came flying towards the man. He deftly grabbed each one and either tucked it into some holder on his being or hid them away within the folds of his black robes.
"When?" the man asked abruptly. He was answered not even a second later when the ceiling above them shook and particles of dust started to fall to the floor.
As if there had been some kind of hidden signal, Salazar and Rowena simultaneously walked out of their own portraits and into Godric's own. They sat on the arms of the plush chair that Godric was sitting in, their backs ram-rod straight and eyes filled with too many emotions to count. They watched Harry slowly, as if he didn't have a care in the world, reached under his small bed and draw out a large, clear crystal and a small vile filled with a silver, metallic-like liquid.
"Bottoms up," Harry said sarcastically, his tone dripping in bitterness, as he threw his head back and swallowed the potion in one quick movement. The portraits watched as the man grimaced and grabbed his forehead, a posture they hadn't seen in almost 8 years. The man shook his head slightly and then walked into the middle of the room and held the crystal out in front of him, looking at it as if it held the secret to the universe inside of it. For a long moment nothing happened except for the occasional shake of walls that told them all that this was indeed the time.
"Harry—Tate," Godric began, and for the first time in his existence was at a loss for words.
"See you soon," Salazar finished for his comrade.
"Make us proud," added Rowena.
If Harry heard what they were saying he gave no outwards sign of it, he just kept staring into the crystal. The walls began to shake harder and this time it was accompanied by muffled booms. The Founders held each other's hands and stared at the wall opposite of the one that they were hanging on; each of them saying their own silent prayer that the door would appear and a certain figure would step through to see their Harry off. A loud crash sounded as if it were just on the other side of the wall and only then did Harry Potter look up at the portrait.
"It's too late isn't it?" he asked, his voice strained and shaking slightly, "He's probably dead by now, just like all the others. I never really thought that I'd be alone when the time finally came. I'm really the only one."
His eyes flickered over to the blank wall where the door should have been, then went back to staring at the crystal. They watched as he closed his eyes and his lips started moving in a blur as he said an incantation. A bright light began to slowly emit from within the crystal and it grew until it surrounded Harry in an intimate embrace.
"Good luck Harry, may Tate be infinitely more knowledgeable, thoughtful and understanding," Rowena said under her breath.
Shouts and screams suddenly pierced the still air.
"Farewell Harry, may Tate be more ruthless, cunning and willing," muttered Salazar.
A crack appeared in the wall, running from the floor all the way to the ceiling.
"Goodbye Harry, may Tate be stronger, nobler and triumphant," Godric whispered.
Though they had each said their final pieces there was an heavy sense of unease between the Three Founders. There should have been another standing among them, giving young Harry her own parting; another who also bore the title of Founder.
Not even a second after Godric had finished speaking a light completely enveloped the young man who they had all placed their hopes on and grew blindingly bright; then, suddenly, there was nothing.
27 year-old Harry Potter fell forward onto his hands and knees on something thick and plush. He waited until he regained some semblance of control over his shaking limbs and ragged breathing again before raising his head to look around.
He knew where he was, The Room of Requirement, or at least he hoped that's where he was. If Albus and Sev had gotten the formula right, that was exactly where he should have landed. But he wasn't too worried about that, it was when he was that he needed to know as soon as possible. If everything had gone according to plan then he should be in the summer just after his fifth year, if he wasn't then it had all been for nothing.
Refusing to believe that all of those years, all of those lives, had been in vain Harry slowly rose to his feet. After doing a quick mental once-over on himself to make sure he was all in one piece he took a better look at his surroundings. He was greeted with the sight of dark gray stone walls with ceiling tall shelves shoved against them; enough so that the walls were almost completely hidden. The shelves were filled with worn and tattered books and torches were sticking out from the few spaces of stone wall that were available. In the middle of the room, where Harry now stood, there was a thick black carpet with two large plush, pale blue, velvet armchairs trimmed in a darker blue.
Harry smiled internally as he thought of who the last student who used the room could have been; a Ravenclaw for sure.
Now assured of his location, Harry closed his eyes and did a more in-depth scan of himself. Physically he was fine, his body had retained its older form, something that Albus had been the most concerned wouldn't hold. He could still feel a slight movement along his spine and over his chest; he was fine.
Magically though, he wasn't too sure. Harry closed his eyes as he reached inside of himself and searched for that glowing center in him that was his magical core. It was the same; yet different. The emptiness inside of him that he had always felt was more profound than before and his magic felt a little wilder. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He patted his clothes and after confirming that his possessions were still with him he confidently walked over to the doors.
Would it be summer? Would it be a dozen years into the past? Would this even work? Just in case Harry—Tate, he internally scolded—cast a quick spell of invisibility over himself and yanked the door open.
The castle was empty. Harry let out a sigh of relief that it was indeed the summer break.
My Strong Lady, will you speak with me even if you haven't spoken to me before in this time. I assure you we are well acquainted. He projected his thoughts, hoping that the castle would respond to him now; it had taken him years to get a response out of her before and he didn't think he could be patient enough for that again this time around.
He felt a faint gentle and questioning presence touch his mind and he didn't hesitate to let it in. He felt the presence grow stronger, seeming to solidify more in his mind, and shift through his memories. It was only the bond that he had formed with her after many years that allowed Harry to not throw her out of his mind and retreat behind his impermeable mental walls.
The presence stayed entwined within his mind but the uncertainty that he felt coming from it didn't change.
A little nudge couldn't hurt.
Lady, I'm a protector of anyone that you allow to grace your halls and a warrior against those who wish harm upon you, you will never have to be wary of me, ancient one.
At that, the castle's presence almost seemed to preen. Yes, thought Harry, he knew from their talks that she sometimes grew lonely with only the Founders Portraits to converse with; he knew it had been centuries since anyone had been able to feel her presence and been able to speak to her; most were not powerful enough.
Curious Creature you are, a soft nurturing voice sounded in his head, the words forming pictures in his mind's eye as much as his ears were hearing them, such power in you. I see light and dark; but you are at peace within, you are neither yet both. I think I know why I gave you the gift of Sight.
Harry smiled as he thought of the first time that he had talked to the castle. He had thought that someone was invading his mind and had sent every hex and mental curse he knew, much to the castle's amusement. Needless to say he had scared Albus, McGonagall and Severus with the thought that someone was somehow attacking and they had rightly gone into a frenzy. Only the laughter of the Founders had momentarily reined them in, and once they had explained what was happening, it had only added one more thing for Harry to be set apart from everyone else with.
After that the castle had told him that it was giving him a gift; then slowly he began to be able to see things that he had previously been blind to. He could tell if something was cursed or was laced with a potion by looking at it and he could see a glow around a wand that hadn't exist previously, he could see if someone had recently cast magic on something and he could literally see how the magic made up a spell. The castle had given him the ability to quite literally See and his own powers had manipulated it into something extraordinary. The Founders had then added to his abilities by teaching him how to manipulate the magic in its pure substance.
And I'm humbled every moment by you, Harry responded, if I may? He silently asked and then sent a mental picture in the form of wanting to know when he was.
It had taken longer than he liked to admit, but he had eventually learned how to converse with the castle in only images, feelings and colors. An image formed in his mind and he let out another sigh of relief. Somehow it had worked; somehow they had managed to send him back to before the shit had really hit the fan.
You are going to be the Chosen One, little one? He felt the castle ask.
He barely held back a snort of amusement. He knew she wasn't asking if he was Harry Potter; she was asking about something far greater. Something that made being The-Boy-Who-Lived look like a prologue.
Not yet, lady. But soon I think I will be.
The castle's child-like joy filled his mind and brought a smile to his face. With a more confident stride and a promise to be back soon he quickly walked through the silent castle and out through the front entrance into the black night.
With a sharp but quiet crack, he Apparated away.
Review? Pretty please?