Phoenix Tears Rising

An Alternate Year Six Book

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters associated with his world belong to JK Rowling. No financial gain is being made from this story – only hours of enjoyment.

Chapter Twenty- Five. The TimeKeeper

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 11th January 1061: 06:05pm

Tristian grumbled wearily into his pillows as he felt unusually weak and drained. His eyes flicked open as a cool palm lay gently across his burning forehead. The action of blinking rapidly brought his surroundings quickly into focus.

Large mocha coloured eyes gazed down at him solemnly. "Milord," Tristian mumbled turning his head to the side.

Godric sighed wistfully and ran his hand down Tristian's cheek which had already turned a nasty purple. "I had not meant to strike you so hard," Godric commented, his deep voice sounded constricted and gravelly. "How are you feeling?"

Tristian blinked his eyes only to find that he was sweating profusely despite the fridget tempetuture. "Exhausted," he managed to mumble after swallowing a few times.

Godric's eyes roamed Tristian prone form before he himself shifted from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Sedatives should not have affected you so. I could not wake you from your slumber as you screamed."

Tristian didn't have the engery to even feel slightly embarrassed by this relevlation. There was something that happened when he was asleep. He struggled to sit up desperate to remember what had accorded while he was unconscious. The fact that he had been screaming was not a shock to him.

"I could not wake," Tristian muttered licking his dry lips.

Godric looked at him perplexed his tanned features seeming a little too pale for Tristian's comfort.

"Perhaps you are allergic to something in the potions," Godric muttered quickly to himself. He stood abruptly before snapping his head back to Tristian's direction quickly. Tristian shifted under his father's troubled gaze. "Yes that must be it. Allergy."

Tristian blinked slowly his mind was still somewhat in a hazy mess. He couldn't see what Godric was making a fuss of. It wasn't as if he had left his chambers.

"It was real," Tristian exclaimed suddenly. "They know I am alive. Snape could see me!"

Godric froze on the spot with the last revelation. He closed his eyes very slowly before sinking back down on Tristian's bed. "You conducted magic through this Snape person."

"Yeah," Tristian smiled dumbly remembering Snape's shock and horror when his magic didn't do what he wanted. "They know I am alive."

"I thought the gift had died." Godric shook his head almost sadly. He glanced back to where Tristian was slumped grinning idiotically. "You must rest."

"Neville was killed," Tristian murmured poker faced as if he had not heard Godric. He made a strange strangled noise as if he only realised another of his friends was dead. "Malfoy fought on our side. And Ernie…"

Godric glanced compassionately down on Tristian before tucking him back down into his covers. "Salazar and I have come up with a suitable punishment."

Godric's statement was enough for Tristian to blink himself out of his reverie. He glanced up to Godric's stern features restraining the urge to wince. He turned his head as Godric continued somewhat more sternly. "You are to work with the stable hands from dawn til dusk on all your free days until such time both Salazar and I are in agreement that we may trust you again."

Tristian sighed and nodded his head. Obviously his fathers had hoped to keep him busy twenty four hours a day and out of trouble. There would be no time for socialising or free time.

"Smart. Squishy can't do anything if he's busy," Sidonius added from under the pillow sagely

"Close your trap, Sid. If I wanted your opinion I would have asked for it," Tristian hissed back grumpily.

Maxina, Salazar's female snake friend slowly unwound herself from the bedposts. "Idle hands maketh trouble."

Tristian groaned and buried himself underneath his pillows. "I've died and gone to hell."

Godric took this as his cue to leave. "I shall allow your brothers a short visit to knaw your ears off before I want you to sleep."

Tristian nodded from underneath his nest of pillows. How he dreaded coming face to face with his brothers. Godric's hand however was already on the door knob. As the door opened he came face to face with two eager youths.

Tristian listened half heartedly from his vantage point to the whispers of frantic conversation. Before a moment later the door closed with a heavy thump and he was immediately crushed by Axcel who had taken a mightly leap and landed on him roughly.

"Whadda think ya were doing?"

"Mmmph!" Tristian mumbled from under his brother's weight.

"Ah you might want to let him breathe," Silas blithely commented patting Maxina on the head affectionately.

"You could have been killed, tortured or worse!" Axcel continued slowly getting up from his somewhat crushed brother. "Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to approach father while Lord Ravenclaw was in the same room."

"I'm sorry, alright?" Tristian mumbled. "I thought you would have realised by now I don't get things right."

"Merlin's oath, yes," Axcel continued with his hands firmly planted on his hips so that he was in danger of being compared to Molly Weasley.

"What else can I say?" Tristian muttered grumpily. "Perviously all I had to say was sorry I didn't get killed I'll try harder next time."

"That's hardly funny, Trist," Silas pointed out. "Look we don't have long before Lord Gryffindor wants you tucked up in bed. So I'll say this now: quit the morbid humour it's not helping."

"Honestly, Si, what do you want me to say?"

"Being truly abashed and regretful for your selfish, idiotic, moronic, stupid, irresponsible behaviour would be a start."

"Not like fathers could hate me anymore than they do now." Tristian replied. "I'm not good with this people thing and definitely no good with 'family' stuff."

Silas sighed from his end of the room and brought Maxina with him. "Father doesn't hate you."

Tristian merely raised his eyebrows incredulously. "He seemed pretty angry last time I looked."

"Anger and hate are not synomous with each other." Silas let Maxina down on the quilted surface and smiled sadly at his brother before turning to Axcel who was regarding Tristian seriously. "I think our dear baby brother needs lessons on family matters."

"Father is angry," Axcel commented folding his arms against his chest. "That is what it means to be a parent or guardian. He's angry because he cares about what happens to you."

"Father's affection for you has not diminished," Silas continued.

"You frightened poor Father badly. I think he had it in his mind you were already dead," Axcel supplied slipping his hand on top of Tristian's. "Grandfather had another adopted son, Michael who was much younger than Father. But Father loved Michael as if they were blood brothers. One day Michael did the same thing you did… suffice to say all Father had to bring home was a mutilated, cold corpse. Father was grief striken."

Tristian sighed heavily and buried his head in his hands. "I royally stuffed up this time."

"Well you are only human," Sidonius murmured in his safe place from underneath the feather pillow.

'

'

'

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 12th January 1061: 07:26am

Tristian woke to Ulrich entering his chambers with a tray of freshly baked bread. He made eye contact with Ulrich's disapproving stare before turning his head away. Ulrich, knowing his place as a servant of the household, didn't say a word as he placed the tray over Tristian's lap. Tristian murmured his thanks and bent his head over the tray just as Sidonius decided to yawn loudly and slither out from his advantageous sleeping place.

"Lord Gryffindor said you had a trying night," Ulrich commented. Tristian nodded despite Ulrich's phrasing making it a statement rather than a fact. "You'll study abed today."

Tristian opened his mouth to make a protest but Ulrich bet him to it.

"It is as Lord Slytherin desires."

"Of course," Tristian muttered.

"You brought this upon yourself, snakeling," Maxina hissed.

Tristian restrained the urge to roll his eyes at the female snake and turned back to his breakfast.

"Lord Gryffindor also requires an audience this morning," Ulrich continued as if Maxina had not interjected her comment.

Tristian's head snapped up. What on earth could Godric want since their discussion last night? Surely Axcel had not divulged to their Father about his grisly humour of death and dying.

"He'll be here momentarily before the morning classes."

Tristian was beginning to wish Ulrich would just go away instead of commenting now and then on what is to happen. He barely reached for a hunk of bread on the tray and brought it to his mouth before Ulrich spoke again.

"Young Henry sends his regards."

"Anything else?"

"No practical magic is to be performed this week as per his lordship's desires."

At this Tristian did roll his eyes only to find himself cuffed about the head by the manservant. It was also during this brief moment that Godric decided to let his presence be known.

The Gryffindor founder glanced from Tristian to Ulrich and merely raised an eyebrow elegantly and dismissing the rueful servant.

Tristian bowed his head as Godric made his way unconcernedly across the room. He noticed that, although Godric did not possess the natural grace of Salazar or Saladin, he moved with a warrior's poise.

"I trust you rested well after your brothers were done with you?"

Tristian chanced a look into Godric's face and was somewhat relieved that the lion founder seemed to be quite serene.

"Well enough," he muttered in reply before raking his hand over his face.

"I brought something for you," Godric commented sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Oh?" Tristian shook his head wishing he was more a conversationlist in the mornings. There didn't seem to be an intelligent thing to say in reply.

"Eat your breakfast I shall be the one doing the talking."

Intrigued by the strange turn of events Tristian instantly obeyed and Godric began to speak.

"I had thought the Gift to have been redundant in my line. Usually it is only passed onto the eldest male child. But perhaps due to your unconventional method of…er…conception the rule does not apply to you."

"Gift? What gift?" Tristian demanded forgetting momentarily that his mouth was full.

"Chew with your mouth closed." Godric shook his head sadly. "My father was a TimeKeeper… an unusual ability to walk through time whilst the body is conscious. And although nor Axcel or myself possess the Gift it seems to have manifested in you."

"Me?"

"Did you not see your home the future whilst under sedation?"

"Yes."

"And were you not certain what you saw was real?"

Tristian paused for a second and paled somewhat. It had been too real not to have been true. "There's a traitor at Hogwarts."

Godric's strong hand encompassed Tristian's slim fingers. "While you are ignorant of what the Gift can and can't do you must not act rashly. As far as I know travelling so far through time is unheard of and using magic through another… I can't say I understand."

Tristian blinked slowly. "It is an advantage."

Godric consider him for a moment gravely. "True. But only when used wisely."

"This could be used to defeat Voldemort," Tristian whispered in awe. "Power the dark lord knows not."

Godric's level gaze did not falter. "You must also remember that one small mistake could harm everything you hold dear."

"And not acting would cause the same consequences," Tristian muttered.

"Yes," Godric conceded. "That is true. What I am trying to say is you won't be doing this alone. I won't allow that."

Tristian smiled softly to himself hardly believing the answer to the defeat of Voldemort was at his feet.

"My biological father was a spy the reason my clan was destroyed. His one false move cost lives."

"Are you trying to scare me?"

"On the contarty I am preparing you. This is war Trist and anyone of us could be killed."

"I won't let…"

Godric placed one finger over Tristian's moving lips halting the words from his tongue. Tristian breathed in sharply feeling as if his words had tumbled backwards and were now stuck in his throat.

"You can't save everyone," Godric said cupping Tristian's face in his hands. "'tis a hard lesson but vital for any warrior and as much as I don't want you or your brother to learn this lesson it is best that you understand."

Tristian nodded dumbly. "I know."

"Then accept that there will be casualties," Godric continued firmly before releasing Tristian's face and bringing a book from the folds of his robes. "I have of course theories about this gift. The hellebore added to the sedative so I am told by my father's references in his book allows young TimeKeepers to begin to learn to 'walk' through time. And of course that fiasco with summoning the vial… time is a fickle thing, my son. Obviously it was not time for you to meet us while in vial form Time waited until it deemed you mature enough before pulling you through the ages."

"I don't understand."

"And I don't profess to," Godric supplied. "TimeKeepers are rare magicians and can influence the face of Time. Obviously before you were summoned you were not ready to meet us."

"I had only just found out… only just accepted a small part of my mother's story could possibly hold some truth."

Godric smiled sadly. "I'll leave my father's personal journal here with you. 'tis not use for Axcel or myself."

Tristian took the journal from Godric's hand almost relunctantly.

"There is hope for us then?" The question was out of Tristian's mouth before he could recant it.

Godric smiled somewhat indulgently before planting a fatherly kiss on Tristian's brow. "Make sure to study what Lord Slytherin has set first."

"And Tristian…" Tristian's gaze followed Godric to the door where the lion founder turned to regard him once more. "There is always hope."