A/N Thank you for the reviews and support.

WhiteElfElder: Thanks for the review my friend. Depends on the king but most likely.

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Harrison's POV

The next month of classes passed quickly for him. He acted mediocre for the classes. This caused the other Slytherins to ignore him. All except for Riddle who had seen him use wards. Riddle seemed hell bent on following around.

At first it just annoyed him now he was beginning to lose his temper. It took three tries to lose his trail to enter the Room of Requirement. The room held training dummies spelled to attack back on a command. It was something he found through trial and error. They were good for practicing swordsmanship. Though it did not relieve the home sickness that he felt.

Another issue he was having was that his aura levels had barely risen at all. He should be back at full aura levels but it was like before he ever went to Japan. To make matters worse there was an intense burning in his left arm.

It had something to do with him destroying the Slates. What that was though he didn't know. Over the last few days it had only grown worse.

Casting a tempus he found it to almost be dinner time. With a sigh he left the room. His eyes darted around the hallway and he scented the air. No one seemed to be around thankfully. If they were it would mean answering questions he didn't want to answer.

Halfway down the grand stair case he hissed in pain. His right hand shot to his left arm grabbing it half way between the elbow and wrist. His breathing became erratic and shallow with the pain.

Instinctively he knew that he couldn't stay on the stairs. Yet he couldn't move away from them. The pain kept him rooted to the spot.

Looking down at his arm he could see auras circulating around it. Silver, gold, red, blue, green, grey, colorless, and finally black. Each of the auras that corresponded with a Sword of Damocles. With each flit across his arm a new wave of pain coursed through him.

Vaguely he could hear someone calling to him. Then the world went dark.

Tom's POV

He barely caught Evans before the foolish boy collapsed. Even as he caught the other a burning sensation coursed through him. It took his breath away.

Keeping a tight hold of the Slytherin he moved them off the stair case. Looking down he saw different colors flirting across the others arms and chest. Red was flitting across his chest near the collarbone. Blue on the right arm near the wrist. Black on the right arm halfway between wrist and elbow. All three plus silver, gold, green, gray and white across his left arm halfway between wrist and elbow.

The red light was attacking him causing a burning sensation where his skin made contact. It wasn't possible to keep moving him in this condition. There was no way he could stop it either.

His decision was made for him when Dumbledore arrived. The man asked his eyes widening," What happened here?"

Tom shook his head as he replied," I came across him right before he collapsed. If I had not been there professor he would have taken a tumble down the stairs."

Dumbledore ignored him. Instead the old man drew his wand casting diagnosis charms. Specifically over where the lights were coming from. The ever present twinkle disappeared from his eyes.

A silent hovering charm was cast and the man said," Tom I need you to go get the Headmaster for me. You should know the password to his office. Ask him to get Weissman immediately and meet me in the infirmary."

Without another word to him Dumbledore took off. He had never heard the man's voice so cold. The Deputy Headmaster knew at least somewhat of what was going on. That Tom knew for a fact. So he did as he was asked and got the Headmaster. Maybe then he would get so answers.

Harrison's POV

Disinfectant smell was the first thing he noticed when he came to. Irritation filled him. There was nothing more he hated than to wake up in an infirmary.

Opening his eyes he saw an unfamiliar silver haired man in the chair next to his bed. Vaguely he could hear the matron moving about the room. With a groan he pushed himself up onto his elbows. This brought the attention of the silver haired man. The grey eyes was what sparked a memory. Immediately he tried to further sit up.

The man noticed immediatley and said pushing him back down. He said," Stay down young man. You body is still adjusting to having the power of the kings."

"Weissman..."

Weissman blinked in surprise and said bluntly," You know my name."

Right this wasn't his time. The man's grey eyes were cold. Far colder than he remembered. Now he understood what Reisi meant when he first described the Silver king. Pain of losing someone would do that to you. Harrison understood that better than anyone.

In the span of a year he had lost both a king and a fellow clansman. Both deaths had been his fault. His Sword of Damocles had warned him about their impending deaths. Yet he had been unable to prevent them. Unable to save Tatara even as he bled out in his arms.

Mikoto for his part had died avenging the death of Tatara. He "killed" Shiro who had the colorless king trapped inside him. It had been the only way to get rid of the other without endangering more lives. For only a king can murder a king.

He said looking away," Of course. Adolf K. Weissman the first and Silver King. The finder and activator of the Slates."

A friend and ally through the kings war. Who he inadvertently protected not knowing that he was a king. As Shiro he had lost his memories when the colorless took his original body leaving him as a teenager.

For a moment Weissman just blinked at him. Then it was like a light had been switched on.

"You know me but are not from this time," it was a statement not a question.

Harrison's eyes trailed to the matron before he said," I can't say anything about that Weissman. Too many ears."

The man shrugged nonchalantly as he said," The matron can't say anything. If it makes you feel any better you can ward the area."

A short growl was his answer but nonetheless Harrison put up wards in Wolf Speak. When they were up the man raised an eyebrow at him.

He said rubbing the place on his left arm that still burned if slightly less now," Weissman what I'm about to tell you goes no further."

The seriousness of the situation must have shown in his eyes because the man agreed immediately. For a moment he stayed silent trying to decide where to begin.

Then he said," You are right I know you. Well who you are to become. You are also right in stating that I am not from this time. I came from 1995."

Weissman's eyes widened. Whatever the man had been expecting that wasn't it.

So he continued," In my time there are eight Swords of Damocles. Silver, gold, red, blue, green, gray, colorless, and black. Only seven of them are true colors of a king. Seven that choose their kings and are passed down. I'm the exception. I was created an experiment done by an insane king looking to live forever."

Weissman for his part winced. Harrison knew his reasons for finding and uncovering the secrets of the Slates. The man wanted to create a better world. Sadly it was not meant to be. More than one king sought to control what wasn't theirs to control. To become god.

A thought hit him and he asked," What I felt that was the Slates? Wasn't it?"

Cold grey eyes met his green ones as the man replied," Yes. I became the First King as my sister died in my arms."

"I'm sorry," he replied sincerely.

King's were destined to be alone. They kept to themselves and only each other. That didn't change even in a different time.

Weissman asked after a moment," How did you end? This is fifty years in the past."

Rubbing his left arm he replied," We destroyed the Slates. It was a full clan war. By the end of it so many lives had been lost in the name of trying to save them."

Weissman could only blink stupidly at him. Then before he could react the man grabbed his left arm. After fully extending it he placed his right hand which was now glowing silver between the elbow and the wrist. A whimper left his lips as the burning increased to painful levels.

Weissman said not looking him in the eyes," You may have destroyed the main part of the Slates but there is a silver of it in your arm."

That was not encouraging. Though it did explain the reason why he collapsed. What it did not explain was why he didn't have any aura before and why he had it again. When he voiced his concerns the man looked contemplative.

Before anything else could be said the matron noticed them. He had to dispel the wards or risk alerting the professors to his rare magic. She looked him over using diagnostic charms. The entire time Weissman didn't move. His gaze solely fixed on the spot where a piece of the Slates now resided.

Once he was deemed healthy the Headmaster came in. Dumbledore followed shortly behind.

The Headmaster asked looking to Weissman," What is the verdict Adolf? Is he somehow a part of your experiment?"

Harrison bared his teeth. He wasn't an experiment. To say that he was, was an insult to him and all of the scent seekers.

"No," came Weissman's calm tones," He is not one of my experiments. Last night or early this morning as it was for me my experiment was a success. Though at a great personal cost. It seems like myself this child is a king chosen by the Slates."

Dumbledore asked concerned," Is he a danger to the other students?"

Shaking his head he replied," No. The lad isn't a danger. Aura isn't dangerous. It works much the same as magic does. All about how one intends to use it."

Internally Harrison sighed with relief. The First and Silver king decided to side with him. Not to turn him into a science experiment. If the man tried to turn him into an experiment then he would quickly learn of his temper. Scent seekers had a quick temper. In their minds it was bite first question second.

As if reading his mind the silver haired king smirked. He continued on knowingly," If he has any more problems owl me. I will not longer have a floo to be contacted by though. If that is all. Armando. Albus."

With that he was gone. Harrison had a feeling though it would not be the last he saw of the silver king. The only question he had now was. What was he going to do with silver of the Slates in his arm?