Title: The Runestones
Author: Qellaswe
Pairings: HP/TBA, brief RL/NT, RW/HG
Warnings: character death, slash
Spoilers: THROUGH DEATHLY HALLOWS! Even the epilogue, much as I didn't like it.
Summary: After being attacked and fatally wounded, Harry rashly wishes he could go back in time and change some things. When his wish is granted, he finds that some things can't be changed. To cope with them, Harry takes up a new hobby.
Disclaimer: (Since I forgot it in the first chapter) I don't own much of anything you may recognize from any published work. Just the plot is mine.
AN: I am so sorry for this taking almost three months to complete. Snape was being very stubborn and wouldn't cooperate, and RL was very cruel in January; I had to make some major decisions because of that. Within the next three weeks, I'll let you know what I came up with. Regardless of that, I hope to have chapter three up within the next week. We'll see how Snape wants to behave.
Runestones 2
******
Dagaz
This particular rune designates the start of something new. One can use the rune in several different ways, from considering it a 'good luck' charm, to making a fresh start. In terms of mysticism, Dagaz is used for inspiration, spiritual advancement, and understanding the mysteries of life and the universe.
Dagaz is the rune most associated with the concept of universal love and acceptance, thus making it a useful tool in changing the attitudes of either the user or someone else.
******
Harry somehow managed to get through most of the month until his next meeting with Salazar, all the while trying to come up with a way to speak to Snape. The first time he'd seen the man, he had been taken back to the Shrieking Shack. Harry had been snapped out of his daze by the sneering man as he took points from Gryffindor.
He had the feeling that Hermione was suspicious of his behavior, but at this point he wasn't sure what to do about that. He had found himself struggling with some of the spells they were being taught in class. Hell, it had been almost thirty years since he'd done some of these spells, so it wasn't hard to believe that he would forget how to do them. For his part, Harry wished they could just skip to sixth year, when they learned the more practical uses for Transfiguration and Charms.
The nicest parts of this month were when he met up with Cedric in the library. Harry wished he'd thought of truly befriending the Hufflepuff the first time around. Cedric's uncharacteristic sarcastic streak - for a Hufflepuff, anyway - was genuinely funny. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so freely - at least, when not around his children.
Harry sighed at the thought as he pulled his books around him. It seemed like every time he thought about the future, he lost all concentration about what he was currently doing. Thoughts such as those were constantly running through the back of his mind. Even in his dreams, Harry would see his children as they were the last time he saw them and then as they morphed into strangers, leaving him behind.
On top of everything, the one person he needed to talk to was the one who was the most unapproachable. If it had been his fifth year, Harry would have had one of the Occlumency lessons to get Snape alone, but this year it was utterly impossible to do so without the man getting so suspicious; Snape would never listen to what Harry had to say.
One thing he'd been able to accomplish was to read up on Gringotts' bylaws and figure out that he could get into Bellatrix's vault without having to use a dragon to get back out of the bank. As Sirius' heir, he would be able to access Bellatrix's vault for the simple reason that it had been part of her dowry and, as such, was a part of Black property. Sure, it would take several forms in triplicate, but he would be able to take care of it sometime in the first week of summer. The sooner the better, before Voldemort grew used to his new body. Frankly, it was almost too easy just how he could have accomplished getting that particular horcrux if he'd had the information he now knew.
That wasn't to say that he wasn't going to be busy that first week. If it followed what had happened last time - at least as far as Dumbledore having the Order watch his house - he would need to wait until Mundungus Fletcher was on watch to slip away. There was always the case that it would be different, but he would have to make plans as he went. Already the future was diverging from the one he knew, but it was so subtle that Harry was having a hard time in deciding what he should or shouldn't do next.
At least his animagus training was going better than expected. Despite Hermione's curiousity and, if he had to admit it, Ron's as well, Harry had managed to read the book Salazar had recommended he read. It was the practice that was giving him problems, as Harry had a hard time finding time alone without raising anyone's suspicions. Fortunately, he'd been able to get away this afternoon, as Hermione was in the library and Ron was sulking about the latest prank that Fred and George had unleashed on him.
A soft knock on the window startled him out of his thoughts. Raising his head, he found Hedwig tapping at the window. Harry found that he was happy that he'd found this abandoned classroom to use to study, because Madame Pince would not have been amused at Hedwig trying to deliver a letter in the library. Hermione would probably cause more of a problem than even Madame Pince because of the disruption to her studies (as she'd done to the twins in the incident that had led to Ron's sulking). As much as he loved her, he'd forgotten what she had been like when exam time had come round.
With a couple of long strokes along Hedwig's feathers, he took his letter and sent the owl off for a well-deserved rest in the Owlery. He'd sent off his letter a couple of days ago and had started to worry about the wait. No sense in waiting any more, though.
Scanning the contents, Harry felt a wide grin stretching his lips. Quite a few of his current plans had hinged on the results of this letter. Hermione is going to kill me when she finds out I've already taken the OWLs, he thought, but this is the best way to accomplish everything I need. I need to be 'of-age' in order to get rid of Umbridge, and the quickest way to do that is to take the OWLs and emancipate myself. As it is, she'll be kept busy for a couple of days after she finds out, looking up those two laws.
Harry snickered to himself at some of the other obscure laws he was going to be using. The Ministry had some truly outlandish laws - as well as some very harmful ones in the hands of Malfoy Senior and the like - that he was going to manipulate. Over the years, he'd found many uses for what Ron had called his Slytherin side. It had first appeared during Auror training, when his instructors had encouraged him to develop it more fully. His use of that 'side' had been that little extra which had made him such a good Auror. He had been able to allow his instincts free reign when going over case details, picking out things that someone who didn't think like a Slytherin would miss.
Harry knew he would have to be careful with the Slytherin side to his personality. He had come up with several ways to humiliate Malfoy, Snape, and several others just because he could. Resisting those temptations had been hard.
His snickers turned into a grin that would have earned him a top-villian rating on the cover of the Daily Prophet again. Pettigrew would be helping his master back like he had, all right, but he would be coming back with Harry on the return trip with the Cup. With the five laws he'd found, Harry had plans for his parents' betrayer.
Mentally rubbing his hands together, Harry turned back to his Transfiguration homework and tried to figure out a way to dumb down his answer. Sometimes it sucked being this young again.
******
Sitting through DADA was terribly boring, although Crouch was doing a passible job, despite being a Death Eater and all.
Harry loved the irony of that statement every time he sat through class. He was rather bored with it all. He had been Lead Auror for seven years and had been slated to become the head of the department when Andrews retired. So, to pass the time, he'd come up with interesting ways to expose the Death Eater who was currently masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody without letting anyone know that it was Harry Potter doing anything.
Oh, that reminded him of something else he needed to do. Harry made a mental note to check into the Daily Prophet, to see what he could dig up on Rita Skeeter without having to resort to kidnapping her in her animagus form. In the old future, she had eventually registered herself, whereupon she'd once again started a vicious campaign about Harry and his friends. True, she hadn't written down her markings, having used the excuse, once she was caught, that she couldn't exactly look at herself, now could she? Harry had wondered at those who had believed such a bald-faced lie, when the woman obviously spent hours in front of a mirror a day, to put on that much make-up.
All of that led to the problem of Malfoy and his goons, who were currently supplying Rita with some 'juicy' gossip. The blond was still a spoiled brat, far from the boy who hadn't wanted to be one of Voldemort's Death Eaters once he was marked. Harry would have to find some way to sway Malfoy closer to the Light - Draco had told Harry, when Al and Scorpius had become friends, that he had rather liked playing the villain many had believed him to be, as he'd gotten a lot more girls. Harry had found that to be hilarious, and they had formed a tentative acquaintance not shared by their wives. Then again, Malfoy had sent him Dobby to warn him about the diary all those years ago, so there may be a good chance they could at least come up with a truce before leaving for the summer.
"Potter!"
He jumped at 'Moody's' shout. Harry blinked to find the entire class staring at him, a light blue shell of magic surrounding him.
"That's what I'm talking about, class," Crouch said, obviously continuing his lecture, although his magical eye kept its attention on Harry as he moved towards the front of the room. "Potter's magical defense is instinctual, and that's what you need to accomplish."
"How did you do that, Harry?" Hermione asked as they made their way out of the classroom and to the Great Hall for dinner.
He shrugged, not having any way of explaining that his mind was a little over forty, and his magic had had thirty years to instinctively protect him even if he were unconscious. Harry also wasn't about to mention the fact that only she and three other people were keyed into it and that anyone else would get shocked if they touched it.
"It was probably something you read for the Tournament, right, mate?" Ron asked, his mouth only partially filled with chewed food. The red head ignored Hermione's admonishment to not talk with his mouth full. "You've really picked up the pace on different spells since that meeting. You'll need it, too, going up against those three." His face darkened. "Especially Vicky."
Trying to ignore the argument that started between his two friends at that remark, Harry thought about Krum and the role he played in the blasted tournament. The star Seeker of Bulgaria had been under the Imperius curse for most of the Third Task. Maybe there was a way to break that up, saving Krum the humiliation he must have felt when he had been released from the curse.
It was only one of about a million questions Harry wanted to ask Salazar when they met in four days.
******
Dear Harry,
I was rather surprised to find your owl waiting to deliver your letter this morning - she is rather persistent, is she not? - though it was rather good to hear from you. I hope that your studies are going well, and that you are prepared for the third task. It was rather shocking to find that you had been entered in the Tournament, but I am sure that you will do fine. I know that I am proud of how well you performed in the first two tasks, so I am confident you can win the tournament.
As to your question, I am not sure if our mutual friend has been to his house yet. He most likely will not return there unless there is no other recourse. I know that he hated the place when we were younger, and I doubt that will have changed despite the fact that he is the last of the family. I will, though, ask him the next time that I see him. For you, I suspect he would attempt to visit.
Sincerely,
Remus Lupin
******
Mr. Potter,
I wasn't aware of our distant familial connection until I received your letter. I myself researched what you found and I will confirm that it is true. I will also admit that I was skeptical about the information, given what has lately been published in The Daily Prophet. I apologise up front for that.
I must confess that I don't truly have what you are looking for. Yes, I created it and kept it this past century. However, it was caught in the destruction of the Great War and ended in several pieces. I have not been able to piece it back together into something workable.
As you request it, I will send the pieces to you, though I don't expect you to be able to put it back together.
Sincerely,
Griffen White
******
Snape prowled the aisles of the classroom, gazing into each student's cauldron. Even on the other side of the room, Harry could feel his intent of finding something wrong with Dean's potion. He mentally shook his head and turned his attention back to his own potion. It was almost at the stage he needed it to be; one minute more and it would blow in a rather spectacular way.
Potions had never been his best subject, but he was definitely going to use it his advantage. James had blown up this particular potion no less than fifteen times trying to get it right, so it was just a matter of picking how Harry wanted it to go.
"Potter!" Snape was yelling as the yellow smoke cloud hovered over the cauldron, the pungent sulfur smell causing everyone in the vicinity to cover their mouths and noses. "Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention tonight with me."
Harry mentally sighed in relief, even as he acknowledged Ron's half-hearted attempt to cheer him up over the detention. The relief turned into worry when he noticed a calculating gleam in Hermione's eyes. He'd have to tell her something, because she was definitely suspicious, and that was one thing he didn't need.
He needed to do something about it, but first he had to deal with Snape. Frankly, he was terrified that it would make this entire situation worse. Still, he'd try his very best. And if it didn't, Harry had magic - and that little piece of interesting blackmail - on his side.
"Potter, get in here," Snape snarled as he opened the door to the classroom later that evening. "There are fifteen cauldrons over there that I want spotless before you leave." Black eyes glittered at him with a dangerous glint. "I know that was deliberate, Potter. Even you aren't that stupid."
Harry rolled his eyes as the potions master turned and headed towards his desk. They may have been raised in different households, but you could tell that Snape and Aunt Petunia had been raised in the same neighborhood. There was a bitterness about them both that originated in the town that had cost Harry's grandparents their lives. At least, that was the case when he'd finally gotten the truth out of his aunt about her and his mother's parents.
Ten cauldrons later, he'd finally had enough. He reflected that it had been a lucky chance, the night the dementors had tried to eat his and Dudley's souls, when he'd found he could use his wand even when it wasn't in his hand, as a quick swish of his arm cleaned the remaining five. He needed to talk to Snape (and didn't want to explain his wandless magic).
"Potter! Was that magic?" Snape was thundering past his desk towards the sinks, wand out and fierce scowl on his face.
Forget hiding wandless magic, he thought. Harry waved his arm towards the angry man, sending Snape into a nearby chair. The man looked startled for the briefest of moments before he stood - or, rather, tried to stand.
"Let me up this instant, Potter, and you'll only be expelled instead of dead."
Something washed over Harry and he was powerless to stop it. "No," he ground out from behind his teeth. "I've wanted to tell this to you for the last thirty years and I will have my say."
Snape opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it and silenced him with a wave of his hand.
"I doubt you have any consideration just how hard you make it on students, regardless of the fact that you have to make it seem as if you are on Voldemort's side if he might return - which, I assure you, will be in a little more than a month. Your fawning over the Slytherins doesn't do them any good, and they will have a hard time finding any sort of happiness once Voldemort is truly dead. I can't say that I really had the pleasure of watching this, because they tended to hide it all away until it was too late.
"You are a selfish creature, Severus Snape, whose spying cost twelve Slytherins their lives in a peaceful time, because they couldn't ask for the help they needed. I understand that you walk a fine line between the two sides of the upcoming conflict, but you had an entire generation's Slytherins depending on you to guide them into what it took to be Slytherin."
Harry glared at the silent and bound man, and the black eyes widened at the look.
"It's been maddening, this last month. I can't turn a corridor without seeing someone I've seen dead acting like the normal teenager I don't remember them being. Hell, it scares me every time I see Lavender without those awful marks on her face. Tell me, Severus, what makes a grown man believe that he is an animal? Greyback was an awful man, and I was glad that he was dead, but he's not in this time, is he?"
He was too far into his long-overdue rant to appreciate the bewildered expression on the potions master's face. Harry needed to get this out, and if Snape wanted to expel him, he really didn't need the education from here. There were several schools he could go to outside of Europe. He needed to be here to help the war effort, and, if Snape proceeded with expelling him, Harry would play his trumph card.
"I was perfectly happy where I was... No, I take that back. I was mostly happy when I was, because, even now, I miss my children with all that I am. Their mother is a different story, but now is not the time to get into that.
"No, this is about you, Severus Snape, who has enough hate for ten people. Yes, you hated my father, but I never got to know him. You still hated me, just because I look like him. Well, let me tell you something that I doubt anyone has ever told you before in this manner: GROW UP!"
He took a deep breath as he reined himself in. If he continued yelling, it might catch a passing Slytherin's attention. Besides, he was straying from his point, and if he didn't get to it now, he probably never would.
"I know that you knew my mother growing up - and maybe you were a little in love with her - but I'm not going to call on you with that." He took satisfaction in the widening of Snape's eyes. "No, I want you to tackle this on like the Slytherin I know you are."
He finally sat down, feeling the reassuring coolness of the runestone - now a pendant hung on a bit of cording - nestle into the hollow of his throat. If the stone worked at it should, he would have a decent chance of making it through the meeting with his life and limbs.
******
"I find myself admitting that I am rather impressed with you, Mr. Potter."
Harry turned to look at Snape. Once freed, the man had been rather quiet - far different from how Harry was expecting him to react. He'd rather suspected that the man would curse him multiple times before running off to Dumbledore to have him expelled.
"Impressed?" he asked.
For only the second time, the dark eyes were not looking at Harry with malice. Of course, the first time was when Harry watched the poor man bleed out onto the dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack, so it made this time much better than that. A tension that he hadn't even known he was feeling was released with the look.
"I find that your actions are more similar to how your mother would have acted in the same situation. Although how you would do so after being raised with Petunia, I do not know how you've managed to stay sane enough."
Harry smirked at the insult to his aunt, amused at he and the man's mutual dislike of the woman. "I doubt Aunt Petunia would know how to confront anyone, with her backstabbing qualities," he muttered before straightening in his chair. "She'd rather go behind their back and spout the nastiest gossip and lies she could ever think of."
Snape looked startled at this observation before his lips quirked the tiniest bit. "Very true, Mr. Potter." The man quickly sobered. "You will explain -"
"Everything?" Harry finished. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before focusing on the other. "I was planning on doing exactly that."
