So, haha, I kinda fucked up somewhere. This was supposed to be published as drabbles but I forgot? Lol. And I checked the documents again. Turns out I only have 3 parts. So uh, hang in there guys?
Anyway, here's the second part! (That I published because I'm legal now!)
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
The forest of the north was large—large enough to get lost in and confusing enough to deter would-be explorers. It was silent and still, unnatural and avoided. In exchange for this, there were no animals, neither wild nor domestic, to be worried of. There was nothing to sneak away from even if you trudged noisily.
At least, it should have been.
As Harry easily ran through uneven ground—he'd had much practice—the forest seemed alive. Sure, it was still quiet, still as dark and unoccupied, but there was something there that was missing before. Something that made the air thicker, that made goosebumps erupt on his arms—that made him shiver almost unconsciously.
"Padfoot!" Harry called out in agitation as the dog continued to run a few feet away from him.
The forest seemed alive and that didn't look good for Harry. Alive means movement, and in this particular forest, alive means change. That something has shifted and as used to the odd as Harry is, this moment raised alarms in his head, waving warning flags and flashing red lights.
"Padfoot!" Harry tried again even as the dog continued to run, dodging trees and roots impressively for such a mangy and underfed creature. "Where are you even going?"
Blowing out a breath and quickly inhaling, Harry resolved to stop calling after the dog to reserve his breath. He could run a straight mile and be able to breathe normally, but the forest floor was considerably harder to stumble through and took more effort. The thickness of the air didn't help either.
The grimy dog continued to run even as it broke through the forest line and into a clearing of sorts. Harry continued to dodge trees and roots.
When he finally reached the edge of the forest, Harry stopped, caught his breath, and wondered where he is. He'd run after Padfoot again but it would be no good if he didn't know the way back.
The messy haired teen was able to look up just in time to see Padfoot slip through the grills of a large gate.
That wasn't there before, Harry thought, apprehension creeping up. He was positive that Anthony would have told him if there was something like this in the forest. Certainly, it would be interesting enough to the other boy to explore. Even his own excursions didn't end up here.
The gate had a large 'H' in the middle, stylized as a crest or like a coat-of-arms Harry had once seen in the telly. From his distance to the gate, Harry cannot clearly see any inscriptions but suspected that it should give him a guess of where he is.
Completely dismissing looking back from where he came from—he'd have the opportunity to do it later anyway—Harry jogged up a path to the iron gates with the intention of sating his curiosity, his focus remaining on the crest-slash-coat-of-arms;
Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
The castle—an honest to God stone castle—behind the iron gates made Harry gape in both awe and shock. The structure of the castle—Hogwarts School, if the crest was to be believed—was big; encompassing a large span of however big the land was beyond the gate. Added to that, what he could see of the towers were tall, easily going beyond six floors in height (the only comparison he could have was Number 4, which was a sizeable two-story house).
It was beautiful.
It made shivers run down Harry's spine for no inexplicable reason.
And it should also be seen in Hogsmeade quite clearly with how big it is.
All these thoughts swirled around Harry's head as he tried to find a way in. After all, he still had to get Padfoot back before the night became deeper and the forest a lot more dangerous (the mere thought of passing through it caused his metaphorical fur to stand on end).
But as soon as his hand touched the gate, he stiffened as a cold and warm and hot and burning wave of something wrapped around his body in a tight embrace, reminding him of the harsh inspections Aunt Petunia made before he was dismissed to his cupboard. It writhed and crawled and burrowed, seeping into every crevice of his being before pulling back with slowness and intensity.
It left Harry feeling drained, exhausted and prickling with energy. It was still there, still curling and twisting, but it wasn't as hot and burning.
The gates opened with a creak of rusted metal and Harry found his limbs sluggishly moving into the land. He shuddered, feeling as if he had just walked through a curtain even if he had seen nothing but air.
Then he was assaulted by the feeling of almost being snatched, cradled in a too tight embrace, as the winds promised of safety and protection. Disjointed, deranged and utterly lonely and broken and beaten down.
Harry must have lost his mind because things like these shouldn't be happening.
The pressure tightened, wrapping him up in a scalding heat of loneliness and plea. He fell to his knees as it continued to swirl around excitedly, charging the air and making it harder and harder to breathe. The wind continued to whisper of promises, tinged heavily by a need.
It was almost easy to surrender, almost easy to succumb to the clamor of Hogwarts, to respond to the plea. And Harry did just that because his body and mind—of which Hogwarts had assaulted and run ragged—allowed nothing else.
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
When Harry came to, he found himself in a room bare of anything but the stone walls and floors, a dim light from the ceiling bathing the room with light that didn't sting his eyes as he blearily blinked them open. He didn't say anything, didn't move from his prone position on the cold floor. But he did wonder, briefly, how he came to the room when his last memory was of—
Burningburninghelpmeburningpleasepleaseplea—
Immediately, a cold blanket of air draped around him, soothing the sudden burn as his mind continued to work through the grogginess. He could still feel it under and on his skin; the crackling, zapping energy that he suspected came from the castle.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
There was only one logical answer to the unspoken—unthought—question.
Magic.
Scars twinged at the reminder of buried memories but he paid it no heed. Even if he tried to scrabble up any other explanation to what is happening, to what happened, to what he is feeling…there was just nothing. So, really, he would spare himself a headache by accepting it. Magic exists, apparently, and that was that. He didn't need to question it.
Except a voice that sounded so familiar screamed at him.
There's no such thing as magic, boy!
There's no such thing as another explanation for this either.
There was a muted flare of amusement and Harry's lips twitched up. Then he frowned because there was absolutely nothing amusing in what's happening.
Magic exists and he's in a bloody castle in a hidden part of the northern woods. And the bloody castle is hidden from view even with its obnoxiously old stones and towers.
The pressure—magic?—lightened but didn't leave. Instead, it floated around him, languidly brushing and constantly reminding him of its presence. What was this? No, he wouldn't get answers anyway. As long as it remained harmless, he would try not to think about it—
Padfoot!
Harry bolted upright, regretting it as the world spun around him, feeling his stomach roll and everything from neck-up to feel like it was abruptly pulled. He lay back down, curling up on his side and clenching his eyes shut as the world continued to spin. It was a good thing he hadn't eaten anything since that morning… uh, the morning of the 31st. He wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious.
Moments passed and the world continued to spin. It ranged from a second to a day when it finally stopped.
The feeling of being spun as if in a concrete mixer tapered off into a dull sense of vertigo but Harry didn't dare move. He feared that a shift would cause what little was in his stomach to bubble up his throat. Even when it disappeared, Harry remained curled up.
On one hand, he wanted to find Padfoot, the dog being his main objective for now; on the other, he didn't know what he would encounter outside the dimly lit walls. He couldn't even recall if there was a door to go through.
Go. Gogogogo—
The pressure around him increased again, the air—magic—around him insistent and excited.
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered, rubbing at his face and knocking his glasses away. He rolled over on his back, glaring at the blurred ceiling. "Why are you like this?"
At the back of his mind, a small part of him laughed at talking to a bloody castle of all things. But his good sense—the one that made him survive for this long—hushed it. The damn stone building was clearly alive.
Apparently, as he was having an—important and world-altering—internal debate, Hogwarts got impatient.
Nothing could have prepared Harry for the gut-wrenching feeling of being magically transported.
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
From this point on, Harry vowed to himself that he would respect juice drinks and sodas. Well, no, that was going a bit too far even in this madness, but the feeling of being compressed and hurled through a thin tube was very, very uncomfortable.
His abrupt transportation, happily given to him by Hogwarts, left him heaving and choking as the acrid taste of stomach acids stung his throat and tongue. He coughed and spitted, sitting on his hands and knees, and wiping his mouth with the hem of his too large shirt.
Finally getting a hold of himself, Harry looked around, snorting at the blurred images he was greeted by. Of course Hogwarts hadn't even had the consideration of sending his glasses with him.
Sighing, Harry stood up on slightly shaking legs. "Nothing for it," He muttered sullenly.
Right, first thing on the list is finding Padfoot. How exactly he was going to find anything with his blurred eye sight, Harry was a bit iffy about, but he'll just have to endure it. Hermione and the others are bound to be worried if he would be gone for too long.
If he was right about being inside Hogwarts School, then he'll have quite a journey ahead. He just hoped Padfoot would be easy to find. Clearly, the dog was too undernourished to be running around the castle for a long time; he must have stopped for a rest by now. His luck, known for being bipolar, would probably have Padfoot running around and not in the castle.
A pop that was deafening in the silence startled him away from his musings.
"Hellos."
Harry swallowed a yell and instead blinked down at the… creature. It—it felt rude to refer to the creature like that but decided to use it anyway until he knew what he/she/it is—had big, floppy ears and tennis ball eyes, standing remarkably short in height. Everything else was too blurred to distinguish no matter how much he squints but he knows this can't be a human.
"I'd hate to be rude but…" Harry scratched at his arm in discomfort feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. "What are you?"
"I's be a House Elf sir," The… House Elf spoke in broken English, kind of like a child. "The Lady asked of the elfs to send ins someone to helps you."
"Okay," Harry dragged the vowels longer than it should. "What, uhm, what's your name? I can't always call you House Elf when it sounds like there are a bunch of you guys."
The Elf nodded eagerly, ears flopping enthusiastically. "I's be calls Tiffy, sir. Other elfs be busies to take care of the Lady."
"The Lady?" Harry muttered. "Hogwarts?"
Again the Elf, Tiffy, nodded eagerly. "The Lady be Hogwarts, yes."
Humming, Harry considered Tiffy. The Elf clearly knew the castle well if what she (Tiffy's voice was too high to be a male) was telling is true.
"Can you help me find someone?"
He couldn't quite read the Elf's face but Harry thought she was smiling. "Tiffy's will do her best!"
That was a hopeful answer and a better solution than walking around blind as a bat.
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
The castle—yes, he really is inside Hogwarts—halls were wide, spacious, and confusing, with the walls filled by moving paintings. Bloody buggering paintings that should not be able to crossover other frames, mockingly waving at his bewildered, blurry gaze.
Harry would have been in a lot more panic if they talked. Thank God they didn't and he wasn't about to ask Tiffy if they could. Even he has his limits.
Unfortunately, Tiffy was unable to help him any more than being a guide because apparently she didn't know of anything or anyone named Padfoot nor was she able to locate anyone or anything without seeing them for herself. Something about House Elf magic having rules like that to prevent abuse.
Harry guessed it was still better to have Tiffy guide him through the confusing and vast halls of Hogwarts School. His poor eye sight was certainly no help for keeping track of his surroundings.
At some point in their journey, Harry felt the need to finally ask, "What do you know about magic?"
The little Elf stopped in her tracks and turned to Harry. "Magic bes everything sir Harry. It be what makes thingies possible."
"Oh," Harry scratched his head. That was not a clear description but he'd accept what he could get. He knew better than to be narrow-minded. "Like the one making those paintings move? Are there any… rules? Limitations?"
"Just be the strength and will of the wizards," was Tiffy's response.
"Wizards?" Harry asked in surprise. Logically, yes, there would be people or whatevers who are able to harness magic; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry indeed. "Are there any more left?"
"There bes many witches and wizards," Tiffy explained just as enthusiastic as she was before. Harry wanted to know how many, exactly, but Tiffy continued before he could ask. "You be ones too, sir Harry."
Harry stiffened as soon as what Tiffy said had registered. "Me?"
Tiffy's ears flopped around as she nearly vibrated. "Yes, yes, sir. Powerful too. The Lady says so."
"No, no," Harry shook his head, hunching in on himself. "You must be wrong. I'm not a wizard. I can't do magic."
He can't be a wizard. If he was, he wouldn't be with his relatives in the first place. He wouldn't have had to go through what he did. Because if he really had magic, he would have left long ago and never came back.
"Magic do what magic needs," Tiffy answered, downhearted and nervous but determined. "Hogwarts bes a place for wizards and witches and magics. The Lady lets you be here, sir Harry. Sir Harry is a wizard."
Harry didn't answer. A part of him wanted to deny and deny the House Elf. Magic seemed wonderful to have. He didn't deserve it. But then a bigger, larger part of him longed to believe it. He wanted to have something wonderful that was entirely his. And more importantly, something obviously powerful that could protect what he cherishes.
In his silence, Tiffy started panicking, squeaking out apologies and punishments for herself in the same sentence. Harry panicked too, unused to the Elf's sudden outburst and having to plead with her to not bash her head on the wall when she started doing so.
"Please, Tiffy, please stop," Harry tried to gently pull Tiffy away from the wall but proved useless to the determined Elf. "Tiffy, stop, you did nothing wrong. You were just telling me the truth. You did not speak out of line."
Harry continued to coax the Elf to stop hurting herself, feeling his heart clench at every thud her head made when she bashed it to the wall. Empathy hadn't been Harry's strongest suit but in this case, it didn't take much effort to see things in the way Tiffy does. And right now, he'd do about everything to stop Tiffy from hurting herself.
If that meant he had to claim belief of him being a wizard, then Harry was willing to lie.
Was it even a lie if he desperately wished for it to be true?
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
On hindsight, Harry should have considered the possibility of someone living inside the enormous stone castle. Then again, a part of him was still struggling with believing in the existence of magic. Still, it was a large castle. A large castle with many rooms and floors and towers and— well, there's a lot of space and apparently a lot of House Elves too.
There was no point in lamenting about it. As he and Tiffy trudged through the halls, a voice echoed through the walls, startling Harry into action.
Harry abruptly grabbed Tiffy, pulling her behind an alcove and covering her mouth when she let out a startled squeak.
"C'mon dear," A high-pitched voice whined, Harry guessed it was a woman. "We'll have to get back soon."
The response was inaudible but Harry could guess it might have been an affirmative if the woman's cheerful humming was to go by. It seemed she was… excitable and her companion was just quiet in nature. Only the woman's voice could be clearly heard even with the eerily silent halls.
"You know they got that mutt back in place," This immediately caught Harry's attention. "He'd managed to return and Our Lord wanted his answers."
Filing away the information he stumbled over, Harry remained concentrated on hearing the almost one-sided conversation and didn't notice that the people he was eavesdropping on were getting closer and closer to his hiding place. Tiffy remained stiff in his hold but managed to keep quiet.
"The Old Coot deserves more than what he suffered," Now Harry could hear the woman's companion, this one clearly male. "Our Lord would have let us have a turn."
Going by their conversation, Harry could only think of servants. It was confusing. Sure, he was in a castle—a living, sentient castle—but having a Lord? Tiffy already called Hogwarts the Lady. Was it possible to have a castle as a Lady and a maybe-human-maybe-not Lord and have different sets of servants?
House Elves, as Tiffy said, served the Lady. She said nothing of a Lord.
And what is it about mutts and old coots? Those, Harry was pretty sure, were insults. There was a lot going on, Harry only wanted to find Padfoot and leave, to cheerfully delude himself that this was nothing but a dream. A treacherous part of him was pleased with the excitement but he willfully ignored it. Excitement caused trouble and Harry would rather go back to his—not really new but still his—peaceful life in Hogsmeade.
"And what do we have here?"
Harry startled, failing to swallow a yelp. Tiffy twitched violently in his hold.
These were the people he was eavesdropping on; standing with a gait that intimidated even the battered soul in Harry.
The woman had a smirk on her drawn –exhausted?—face, lips dark and stretched, her hair a disarray of messy curls. She reminded Harry of those Goths that prowl the street when the night life of the city is in full swing. And, staring into her dark eyes, Harry knew, even with his blurred gaze, this was not a woman to be trifled with.
Her companion, a tall man that made Harry feel like an insignificant little being, had an unpleasant twist on his face, clearly displeased. Harry could practically feel the glare the man was sending him.
"I don't know you," The woman practically purred with a sharp smile, crouching down in front of him. "How are you here?"
Harry instinctively tightened his hold on Tiffy, nerves alight and heart pounding a mile a minute. This woman is dangerous; Harry could practically taste it in the air. There was a faint smell of copper that Harry was hoping he imagined.
"I—" Harry swallowed heavily. "I was looking for my dog…"
"Dog?" Suddenly, the woman leaned close to his face, close enough to see her aristocratic features. "A dog!" Then she whipped around to look at her companion. "Roddy, he's looking for his dog!"
"Don't call me Roddy," The man—Roddy, or a name it was derived from—turned to the woman. "And I don't see why it should matter."
"Hush!" The woman turned back to Harry with a smile, this time different, softer almost. "Now, don't listen to Rodolphus, it has been a while since he talked to anyone else besides me or his brother. I'll help you find your dog," At this, she glanced down at Tiffy with barely hidden disdain. "Better than this elf has done."
Tiffy didn't react, but Harry thought it was because of the tight grip he had on her. Realizing this, he loosened his hold, wanting to apologize to the Elf but the woman before him demanded his attention with her air of danger. He hoped the little Elf would know he didn't mean to hurt her.
He was set on refusing her help—Tiffy had been an amazing guide and he didn't really want to be in these people's presence for much longer—but he had a feeling that refusing wasn't what he should do.
A curious, sharp prod at his mind had Harry twitch. It was an odd sensation but he knew what it meant this time. Hogwarts was meddling again. And he knew, for now, he would take it into consideration.
Tiffy is great and all but Hogwarts has some form of control over her. Harry didn't like Hogwarts all that much and he'd find a way out of the castle (Hermione and the others must be worried by now), but Tiffy's knowledge is limited to what Hogwarts wanted him to know. That much was obvious.
However, this woman and Rodolphus don't seem to have such limits. But again, they were dangerous.
"Okay," Harry nearly startled himself with his response.
The woman grinned in victory and jumped up in a fluid motion. "Well then, let's go! Our Lord would have to see you first before I can really help you."
A sinking feeling of dread washed over him.
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
In his youth, Harry was rash in his decisions. Thinking on his feet can only do so much in organizing plans that has a higher chance of working flawlessly. He was never one for sitting and thinking of cause and effect. Hardly had he ever applied actually stopping to plan on anything that didn't have to do with his relatives.
It often led to trouble, but nothing that he couldn't handle. He was resourceful, after all.
But here, walking down the halls of Hogwarts with Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, he felt as if he had bitten more than he could chew. Tiffy had 'popped' away with a squeak when Bellatrix told—threatened—her to, leaving Harry at the mercy of the two magic users.
Bellatrix happily twirled a thin length of bent wood—her magic wand?—between her fingers as they walked to the Great Hall, where they could ask for the audience of their Lord. Rodolphus remained stoic the entire journey, unlike his wife who chattered at Harry.
It was too awkward for Harry to remain silent so he made the occasional questions and answers to show that he was listening.
Unfortunately, all she said were mundane things that he couldn't make heads or tails of. What he did manage to gather was that the castle wasn't as abandoned as Harry initially thought it was. There was their Lord, of course, and a couple other of his servants. Bellatrix and Rodolphus were in what was called the 'Inner Circle', which apparently meant they were closer to their Lord. Requesting an audience was not as hard as it would have been for the lower ranking 'servants'.
The journey took longer than it probably should. After climbing up another set of stairs and then going back down somewhere, they finally managed to arrive in their destination. The doors were large, speaking volumes of the sheer size of the room beyond it. However, before they entered, Bellatrix had some things to say to him.
"Harry," She pulled him close and murmured to his ear, not showing any reaction to his flinch and stiffness at the contact. "Our Lord isn't someone you would want to mess with. Be a good boy and don't speak out of turn." Then she pulled away, running a hand through his messy hair. "I would hate to see your pretty face crying."
Harry shuddered. For this moment, he was glad to have lost his glasses. Even the building headache from constantly squinting to see was worth the inability to see her expression.
Bellatrix stepped back and tapped her wand against the stone doors, muttering something under her breath that Harry couldn't understand.
Then the doors were opening and Harry just realized he had never heard what their Lord was called.
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
Hermione Granger was hardly a stupid girl.
She proudly abides by the law, no matter how unofficial; she obeys her parents without question; she was half-way through reading the books in Tomes and Scrolls even though she wrinkles her nose at how fantastical a good portion of them are.
Hermione could list off many more reasons but the most important thing was that she obeys her parents.
Learning had always been her one and true love (and maybe someday Anthony would be the one to make it two, she'd give it time). So her devastation at finding out that their new home in Hogsmeade was nowhere near a school almost bordered on a child's tantrum.
It was unfair. They had been fine in the city, where she could finish her high school and go to college and graduate with the highest grade she could manage. But it wasn't to be.
Her parents wanted to have their own practice and live a quiet life in the countryside. A few inquiries led them to the quaint little village of Hogsmeade. Then a protesting twelve-year-old Hermione Granger found their old house sold, their things packed, and on their way to the Scottish highland.
She expected to hate the town. She didn't expect the charm the little village had.
It had taken a few months to settle down, but she found herself enchanted. By no means was it the best place Hermione had ever gone to yet she still enjoyed the quiet life brought by the cobblestone roads and outdated technology. It helped that she could home study and only venture out to take her GCSEs. She didn't need to deal with popular girls and bullies.
And so the years passed with her still alone but happy.
Then she met Luna, then Harry. Her life became a lot more colorful, and if she still ever begrudged her parents from uprooting her from their previous home, then Hermione would have forgiven them for leading her to Harry and Luna, and then Anthony. Luna may be odd and sometimes grated on Hermione's nerves, but the blonde girl was a great person, capable and incapable of many things but Hermione saw the beauty in the strange girl.
But, well, following after Harry and Padfoot in the northern forest?
Hermione is sure she has gone mad when she dragged Anthony and trudged through the forest, following after the blonde girl who suddenly decided it was better to be with Harry to find Padfoot.
"We should get back," Anthony told her but not really meaning it.
Hermione huffed and eyed her current courtship partner. "Somehow I think it's best to retrieve Luna, too."
"You make it sound like she's a dog," Anthony let out a huffing laugh but then sent her a raised eyebrow. "In all honesty, I think Luna is able to handle herself quite fine."
"I know that," Hermione admitted as they continued to walk through the forest in the dark, feeling nervous and apprehensive. "It's getting darker, Anthony, and I'd rather tell myself I did something and not just let them get lost in the forest. It's big." It's scary. Terrifying.
The grin on Anthony's lips was hesitant and nervous, showing his apprehension as well. "Good thing I know the way around here, yeah?"
A chill suddenly run up her spine as a gust of wind rustled through the leaves. Hermione clenched harder on Anthony's hand. "Yeah."
The sky was darkening, intensifying the eerie air of the forest. Faded words from a worn and almost empty journal came to mind like an ominous warning as the sun continued set;
In the time of twilight in Samhuinn,
no villager shall wander into the streets
For the time has come for the Others to cheer
And their memories will all be revealed
:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::
Reviews (because I am stupid and turned off PMs but still won't turn it on):
Gurgaraneth: Hmm… I had an explanation for that one but I can't remember it right now. It's in my notes somewhere—that, I am sure of. It's between the lines though, if you're determined enough to find the clues. Andoh, let me tell you; their meeting is something. Thank you for dropping by and reviewing!
SimpleLilacDun: I'm glad that I still have my touch. Lol. Hope this satisfies your intrigue and eagerness.
Wolf of Lilacs: Hogsmeade does have a lot of potential for fairytales. And I honestly love reading those types of fanfiction. Well, loved. Because I'm preoccupied by something else as of the moment. Even I am excited to see where this goes because I have kinda forgotten where it will go. I do have my notes for this fanfic so there's no worry in me losing the plot. Thank you so much for leaving a review!