Chapter 11 - Of Confusion and Conclusions

Dumbledore was alone in his office, pacing up and down. Something as horrendous as this hadn't happened in years, if you discounted Cedric Diggory's death last year.

A student killed in the forest, the groundskeeper missing. Dumbledore would have to inform the unfortunate parents, the school and send out teachers to find Hagrid and the mysterious creature. A fury according to the new student Richard Doorman.

And there he had his next problem; the new students. They had suddenly appeared out of nowhere with Harry and asked permission to attend Hogwarts. Dumbledore was suspicious of them and wanted to question them thoroughly, but every time those thoughts tried to surface, they were pushed down, as if someone was in his head, doing just that.

But it was impossible. Dumbledore prided himself with being the most accomplished occlumens alive and even if someone was trying to manipulate him, they would have to be near him constantly.

Dumbledore's suspicions soon faded, just like al other thoughts regarding the new students always did.

Yes, Dumbledore would have to inform the poor parents of their son's demise. And he didn't even have a body.

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Pain, all he could feel was pain. Blood and acid running down his body, setting his skin alight, every step he was pulled sent tendrils of pain lancing through his body, the pain multiplied by the poisonous venom.

Why was she here, she was supposed to be dead! He had killed her. He couldn't be here, he had thought the past was the past. Why did it have to haunt him so? What had he done to deserve this? He was only sixteen, for crying out loud. Other people went through their whole life and the most interesting thing that ever happened to them was a taming a wild horse.

Salazar felt himself being put down on something soft, a bed. He could discern voices talking and a spell washing over him, taking with it the horrible venom. The pain was somewhat dimmed, but enough had reached his bloodstream to still cause horrible pain.

Lightheaded Salazar wondered what people would say when they saw his (rather impressive) collection of scars. A new set would be added today, because of her.

The beast was supposed to be dead, felled by his own hand for what she had done. It had been His command that had made her so obsessed with him. So obsessed it seemed, that she had collected him and the other people carrying traces of him. All the ones that had been gathered be the fury had been touched and tainted by his magic.

Lucky for them, they would not be alive otherwise. Which reminded him, what had happened to Hagrid, he hadn't been there with them. Was he dead or had he somehow survived?

Salazar felt himself flinch as some kind of cold mush was spread over his face and upper body. Someone opened his mouth and poured a potion down his throat and next thing he knew Salazar was floating into oblivion.

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Godric sat next to Salazar's bedside, forehead resting on his knuckles, elbows propped up on the edge of the bed. He had been sitting here for hours. Everyone else had been sent to bed, but no one was able to make Godric leave.

Outwardly he was calm, but inside he was killing himself with feelings of guilt. The fury had been aiming at him, it should have been him lying on that bed, not Salazar who had suffered enough already, not Salazar who was always such a great friend.

Raising his head, Godric surveyed the damage. Half of Salazar's face looked like it had been severely burnt, skin molten and blistered. His torso was in a similar state, with some extra scrapes from branches. With luck and skill only faint scars would remain. Nothing major had been damaged and his eye had narrowly avoided being hit.

Where had the fury come from anyway? As far as he was aware they had been extinct in his time and should as such be extinct in this time. But then again, there had been rumours about the Dark Lord having one for a pet and Salazar seemed more knowledgeable about the beast after his time there, even if he never revealed much.

"Rowena, what I wouldn't do to have you here now. Without your wisdom I feel lost. You always have all the answers. And Helga, you would whack me over the head and tell me that moping wasn't helping Sal any and that I should pull myself together. I miss you two."

A groan had Godric looking at his bedridden friend to see if he had moved, but he was still laying there, unmoving and pale. Godric lowered his head again and realized how tired he felt. Weariness overcame him and he found himself falling asleep, much like Salazar a few hours before.

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Harry, Ron and Hermione had returned to the Gryffindor tower hours ago. They had talked about what had happened, all shocked and slightly terrified. Not to mention the absence of a friend and the death of a fellow student.

Harry lay awake in his bed, failing to fall asleep. Next to him he could hear Ron snoring and wished that he had it that easy. His dreams were plagued by nightmares and visions of strange doors. His waking hours consumed by guilt. He was the reason Salazar was in the future and now lying hurt in the infirmary.

Had he not gone down into the Chamber of Secrets he wouldn't have been sent to the past. It would have spared many people a lot of grief. Of course, then he wouldn't have formed new friendships and learned so much about magic. If only it had been under better circumstances. One war was over and he was pulled into the next.

Maybe this one would end with less loss.

Harry lay awake until the sun began its ascent into the sky, when sleep eventually claimed him.

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Draco Malfoy sat at a desk in the Slytherin common rooms. He was surrounded by scrunched up pieces of parchment, quill poised, ink long dried. His fingers were flecked with black dots and his hair was messy as if he was constantly running his hand through it.

His eyes were bloodshot as he gazed unseeingly at the unwritten letter before him. He had to write to his father, but what was he supposed to say? 'My fellow student was killed earlier tonight during detention. It was a huge beast, I think it was referred to as a fury. Why was I in detention you ask? Well it was Potter's friend's fault really. He promised to show us dark magic and destroyed a part of the school grounds. As such we all had detention.'

That would go over well. What if the letter was intercepted? What if it fell into the Dark Lord's hands, who had taken up residence in the Malfoy home.

Draco didn't want to choose a side, but this letter might force him to. It might forces to work that changed the entire playing field. Or it may change nothing. Decisions, decisions.

Draco got up from his chair and stretched his cramped limbs. Bending over he picked up the wasted parchment and threw it into the fire, before returning to his seat and dipping the quill into his ink. With pursed lips Draco began to write.

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Salazar groggily woke up, his body feeling, for the most part, well rested. Getting a proper feel of what was wrong though was nigh impossible as his body was pumped full with pain-relief potions, or so it seemed.

Trying to stretch his magic, Salazar was relieved that it responded, if a little sluggishly. Close to his body he could feel Godric, who was sleeping peacefully. A little further away he sensed the healer, busily bustling about in her office.

Salazar opened his eyes, blinking in response to the glare of the light. Looking to his right he saw his friend dangling between bed and chair, somehow sleeping. Smiling fondly at the redhead, Salazar felt warmth blossoming in his chest. Godric may be a fool and a big oaf, always loud and boisterous and annoying as hell, but he was always the friend one needed.

For a few minutes Salazar simply lay there, enjoying the peace, before the doors to the infirmary were thrown open and a group of people stumbled inside. At their head was Harry, looking tired yet alert. To his right stood Hermione, cheeks flushed and looking fairly weel rested, a book clutched to her chest. To Harry's other side was Ron, hair messy, jumper ruffled, but overall looking rather pleased about something.

The trio were at his side in seconds, relieved looks on their faces. Salazar tried to sit up, but twinges of pain flared through his numbed body and and he gave it up as a lost case.

"You're awake! Thank Merlin, Madame Pomfrey said it would be possible you wouldn't wake up any time soon due to the extent of your injuries." Harry smiled, eyes alight with joy, the darkness wiped from the emerald orbs.

"And guess what, Hermione found a text on furies-"

At this point afore mentioned person took over and began rattling off facts.

"It was very difficult to get my hands on this book. There is nearly nothing on furies and what we do have are vague stories and myths. So after talking to some people and following-"

"Get to the point Hermione." Ron grumbled.

Hermione pursed her lips in irritation, but complied. "Well, according to this book furies originated from Greece. They were widespread and had a huge impact on people's, especially muggle's, lives. This lead to two things. Number one was that muggles inserted them into their religion and thus they found their way into mythology.

"The second, more important for us, occurrence was that due to the danger furies posed, witches and wizards decided to hunt them and brought them to near extinction. A few survived and spread to other countries, including the British Isles, where they reproduced and were then later hunted down again. They are thought to have gone extinct around the year 560 AD. This wasn't 100% confirmed as sometimes people would report strange sightings of fury-like creatures.

"It goes on to say that furies are distant relatives of dragons and share their magic resistance, even though it is not as prominent. Furthermore furies have two hearts, one in the human body and one in the snake body. Both must be lethally damaged if one is to kill it. The only other option is to cut off its head.

"All other organs can be regrown and will only anger it. Oh! And it says, though this part gets a bit vague, that if only one heart is stopped, the fury will go into some kind of magical slumber and will only awaken when enough magical energy, preferably in a burst I think it says, reaches it. This will reawaken the dead heart and the fury will be as good as new."

Salazar was staring at the bushy haired girl, face carefully blank. "Does it say what kind of power?"

The girl shrugged and opened the book, looking for the right page. "A fury is a true magical creature. As such it survives on magical energy. In a magicless environment it will suffer and can suffer from some sort of heart failure. Do not interpret this as a death though, for similar to the case of only one heart of the beast being pierced, this also lets the beast fall asleep. The creature will be awoken once magic returns and with its burst, its energy rising so will the life of the creature; damage will be healed and magical pulses will restart the heart."

Salazar clenched his fist, conclusions running through his head, thoughts always coming back to the one he so desperately wanted to deny.

Godric chose that moment to wake up and looked at everyone in confusion. "When did this happen?"

Salazar felt some tension leaving him as he took in Godric's utter confusion. Godric really was a good friend.

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. While writing this, I thought about sending Helga and Rowena to the future as well, but I am not sure. It has its pros and cons, so I wanted to hear your opinion (if you have one) on this topic. So please review!

A/N2: So I reposted the last two chapters because I realized the linebreaks weren't showing and that's just sad.