Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.
Acknowledgements: Rpeh on the beta work.
Chapter 4
"What the hell!" Harry yelled as the man and the girl vanished from sight.
"Calm down," Emily said as she let go of his wrist. She was rather pleased to notice that he shook it out after and that there was already a dark purple bruise forming. Perhaps a little more had carried over than she'd first expected.
"We can't just let that happen. You have no idea what that man could want with that girl!" Harry yelled. Emily snorted. It was undignified, but she couldn't help it.
"I know exactly what that man wanted with that girl," she scoffed.
"That makes it worse!" he yelled.
"Calm down, we couldn't have stopped him anyway," she said.
"We're both magical!" he countered.
"So is he," she responded.
"You can't know that. We may have been able to beat him. Or scare him off. Or do anything to save the girl," he argued.
"No," she said as sternly as she could muster. "He would have destroyed us."
"You can't know that," he argued again.
"And you can't know anything about them," she said. "How do you know he isn't saving the girl from a worse life?"
"You can't know that either," he countered.
"Yes, I can," she said.
"How?" he asked.
"Because I know, alright?" she snapped.
"No!" Harry said. "It's the complete opposite of alright! We have to go after them or something."
"Well that's pointless. They're long gone by now," a man's voice said from behind them. Harry whirled around to face the source of the words and stopped in his tracks. The man was taller than him by a couple of inches. He wore dark clothing and had black hair, longer than it had been moments before when he'd kidnapped the girl, and blue eyes that seemed to stare off into space. He only spared a momentary glance at Harry.
"Who…How?" Harry asked, reaching for his wand.
"Hello Kairkay. Nice to see you. Although I hate what you've done with your hair, eyes, face, chest, and hips," the man said. He waved a hand in her general direction, gesturing to each part of her that he mentioned.
"But you still like my feet," Emily said dryly, crossing her arms across her chest and looking rather annoyed. But there was a familiarity there, a joke between old friends, something that Harry didn't know the true meaning of, but that despite the negativity, drew a smile out of her.
"Can't comment, haven't seen them yet," he said without missing a beat.
"It's good to see you again, Seth," she said. Harry could sense a tension in her voice, something cutting through familiarity. As if they hadn't parted on the best of terms.
"You too," he said. "Although you should have kept the eyes."
"Who's Kair…key?" Harry asked, interjecting out of annoyance.
"What's this?" Seth asked, peering at Harry. "A stray?"
"Something like that," Emily responded.
"Someone answer a damn question," Harry said.
"It's my name," the Sorceress responded. "But he's saying it the old way."
"Oh, so he's one of those barbarians that thinks it is pronounced Sursey?" Seth said. "It's enough that they ruined perfectly good language already they could have at least kept the old pronunciations."
"Sur Say?" Harry asked.
"Circe," Emily corrected. She braced herself for the outburst she fully expected to follow.
"Why would you tell me your name was Emily then? What's it matter if you're named after some Greek witch?" Harry said, sounding confused.
"I miss Latin," Seth said, absently.
"I'm not named after anyone," Emily countered. "And Greek is better."
"No, it isn't," Seth said.
"When even are you?" Emily sighed, changing the conversation. Seth looked around and then looked up at the sky. He held up a hand and the stars appeared, contrasted an odd glowing green against the blue sky. He examined them for a moment before answering.
"Well after this," he said. He then looked at Emily and the sky returned to normal. "But still quite a bit before that I think."
"Helpful," Emily said. "What brings you here?"
"A hunch," he said. "And I always liked this island at this time. Your father enchanted it for you. The serenity is soothing."
"Surely you could mimic that anywhere," she said.
"Or I could just come here," he shrugged. The word father rang through Harry's head though.
"Wait! You kidnapped a little girl!" Harry yelled.
"I did," Seth said. Emily shifted uncomfortably behind him, running a hand through her hair as she did.
"What did you do with her!" Harry said. He tried his best to keep his voice level. But something about a little girl being taken from her home infuriated him.
"I'll tell you what. I'll answer three questions from you. If you'd like to waste one on that, tell me now," Seth said, smirking. Harry paused, sensing a trap and turned his gaze to Emily.
"For what it's worth, he's one of the most honest people I know," Emily said. "And the best sorcerer I ever knew."
"You're too kind," Seth said.
"I don't even know what he would know," Harry said.
"So when presented with a choice you're suddenly less concerned with the girl," Seth said.
"I," Harry started.
"Oh, it's fine she's fine anyway. Even if she decided to get rid of her best features," Seth said.
"I assure you it wasn't intentional," Emily scoffed in obvious annoyance.
"How?" Harry gasped as it dawned on him what must have happened. But it couldn't have happened. That didn't make sense. That was impossible.
Except it wasn't impossible. He'd done it before. Just on an amazingly smaller scale. At least if he was correct. And somehow, he knew he was.
"I would assume you used some sort of spell and it didn't have the quite the effect you were hoping for," Seth said.
"Ulysses Portals," Emily said. "Ironic, I know, but it seemed a fitting way to actually get me off Aeaea."
"Well you are not on Aeaea," Seth said.
"I gathered that. I am also not in England," she responded.
"England? Why would you want to go there? It rains constantly and is infested with miserable people who think warm beer is palatable. The islands are much better. But stock up on some wine from the dirty Gauls before coming back," Seth said.
"Greek wine is better than French. But more importantly, can you still not hold your alcohol?" Emily asked. Seth just glared at her so she continued. "And I'm indifferent on England. I just promised Harry I'd get him home."
"And that was your focus while you cast the spell?" Seth said.
"Yes," Emily said.
"Not mine," Harry countered.
"But I told you to think of home!" Emily said.
"Well I did. But I thought that the island wouldn't have been a bad place to grow up. And where you grew up," Harry said.
"And so you wound up where they stashed her while her brother and sister were being especially horrible and her father didn't feel like dealing with her while she grew up," Seth said.
"Well we can just do it again and get to England then," Harry said.
"I wouldn't recommend that," Seth said.
"It's designed to show paths home," Emily said. "If we keep opening portals it will just keep putting forth different opportunities."
"So, we're stuck here?" Harry asked.
"Maybe," Seth said. "But it's more likely that other portals will present themselves to you. Time magic is weird. I wouldn't ever advise anyone using it."
"Well I didn't want to," Emily scoffed. "I just wanted off the island."
"And took an interesting way to go about that," Seth said.
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Emily said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking rather annoyed at being questioned.
"Did it?" Seth asked.
"I'm here, aren't I?" she said.
"Sure," Seth commented. "But you just saw you. And when you were you were you stuck on Aeaea?"
"That almost made sense," Emily scoffed.
"No," Harry said. "It did."
"What?" Emily snapped.
"Right now we predate whatever magic was keeping us there," Harry said. "I'm assuming it was put into place when you were…imprisoned…there."
"Hey would you look at that, the stray is intelligent," Seth said.
"Great," Emily said. "So, whenever we wind up where the magic exists, we're going to be stuck on Aeaea…with me."
"Maybe," Seth said.
"It pulled me from…" Emily paused, pressing her lips together as if she didn't want to finish that sentence aloud.
"The spell you used tends to put the users at spots where they have to learn something or discover something that will let them move on. It doesn't always…well that's not fair…it rarely ever makes sense at the time. Sometimes it even seems paradoxical. But again, time magic," Seth said with a shrug of his shoulders as if that was a passable explanation. Harry could sense that he was going to start lecturing in a moment. Apparently Emily did as well as she interrupted him.
"So why here?" she asked.
"It's the last time we were both on this island. And I often returned here to look at your flowers," Seth said.
"So?" Emily asked.
"I'm me," Seth said with the same shrug as a few moments prior. "You said Aeaea?"
"I did," Emily said. He moved a few feet to his left, but Harry didn't actually see him take a step or move at all. He waved a hand over the two of them and Harry felt a chill shoot through him. But after a moment he felt completely normal.
"Well that's done," Seth said.
"What's done?" Harry asked.
"I went to Aeaea, examined the runes in the villa, and figured out how to mask both of you," Seth said.
"There's no way you weren't even gone," Harry said.
"Well for you I wasn't. For me I was gone for four days. Although I did…you know what not important. I think I'll go back and figure out how to break the enchantment now. But that won't help you until whenever you catch up with me," Seth said.
"Couldn't you get us out of here then, if you could do all that?" Harry asked.
"I already answered three questions from both of you," Seth said.
"What?" Harry blinked. "No you didn't."
"And anyway, you have bigger things to worry about. Like that chariot that's approaching. I'm pretty sure one of you really doesn't want to meet whomever is in that right now," Seth said.
"We need to get out of here," Emily said, again looking slightly panicked.
"Relax," Seth laughed. "He doesn't come looking for you for a few hours. He's just showing off right now. I never tried myself but I imagine a magical fiery chariot is a good way to woo local lasses."
"I really don't like this," she said, her cheeks flushing red and she eyed something far away in the sky that Harry couldn't see.
"Well, I would have suggested staying on your island and figuring out how to get rid of the magic," Seth said.
"I spent a very long time doing that," Emily said. "And I came up with nothing."
"And was your disappearance part of that?" Seth asked.
"Did you come looking for me?" Emily asked.
"Once or twice," Seth said. "I made it to Aeaea once. But you weren't there. All I managed to find was that hawk tiara I gave you for your fifteenth birthday."
"That still wasn't a funny gift," Emily said.
"Sure it was," Seth responded.
"How many of us are left, anyway?" Emily asked. Harry couldn't help but feel slightly jealous that he answered more than three of her questions. But he supposed that he was just being annoyed that he had no idea what they were talking about. Something stuck in his head though. And it felt like she was changing the subject to pull his attention away from something Seth had mentioned.
"A handful," Seth said. "I don't have the exact number. You know how they pop up here and there. Sometimes you'll think one is gone and then a century later you run into each other at a market."
"I do," she said. "Anyone I remember?"
"By my time? A few." Seth said.
"Like?" she asked.
"Well Hades and Persephone are still as saccharine as ever," Seth shrugged.
"Seriously? It's been millennia," Emily frowned.
"I haven't bothered to check on Vulcan, Oceanus and Poseidon killed each other. The rest fell at various times doing variously stupid things largely because of their varying indifference to mortals. Hestia's still alive. She's taken to creating a restaurant empire," Seth said.
"She likes mortals now?" Emily asked, sounding surprised by that development.
"She likes anyone who enjoys good food," Seth responded.
"Is my father still alive?" she asked
"No," Seth said.
"How?" she asked.
"Mixed reports," Seth said. "I sort of assumed you had something to do with it," Seth said.
"Well that's nice of you," Emily responded dryly.
"Hey, it smelled like you. And can you think of a better suspect?"
"No," Emily admitted. "But it wasn't me."
"If you insist," Seth said.
"Can someone please explain to me what I'm missing?" Harry asked.
"I think the two of you are overdue for a long talk," Seth said.
"We need to get off this island," Emily said.
"You need to pay attention better," Seth said, he started digging in his pockets.
"What now," Emily scoffed.
"There's another of those portals down on the beach," Seth said. Emily's glance shot immediately back down the path. Harry turned completely and stepped toward the edge of the hill. Sure enough another pale blue portal floated below them.
"I don't think we should go near that," Harry said.
"Then enjoy the past," Seth said. He pulled a small bronze object from his pocket and tossed it to Emily. She caught it and examined it.
"A key?" she asked.
"I'm feeling curious. Time magic is fascinating. Even more so when you aren't the one using it," Seth said. "Fifteen Maitland road. And good luck to both of you."
"Thanks," Harry responded on instinct. But his words didn't matter. When he turned his attention back to the man, he was gone. Only he and Emily remained on the island. She started to walk toward the beach and he followed her, unsure of what else to do.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked as they approached the beach.
"No," she laughed. "But what else are we going to do. Sit around here for three thousand years?"
"Three…thousand?" Harry blinked.
"Best guess," she said, pacing around the portal. It seemed to have its own gravity, as her hair was being pulled toward it as if there was a stiff breeze.
"Just…what…are you?" he asked. Emily turned to him, her hair being pulled back toward the portal as she started to step backwards toward it.
"Follow me and I'll tell you," she said as her body entered the glowing blue portal. She vanished from sight. Harry took a deep breath and stepped through. He felt the magic close around him as he entered. The first time it had felt like he'd been falling. This time it was just a step, and then he was somewhere else.
His first thought was that it was considerably colder. His second was that it was raining. He groaned as the icy water felt like it was piercing to his core. His third was that it was now nighttime. He turned and looked for Emily. He saw her a few feet away, under an awning, peering at something.
But that wasn't what caught his attention. Although he did start to walk over toward her, his eyes widened as he realized where he was. Sure, he didn't recognize the specific street, but the city had similar enough features, down to the familiar street lamps piercing through the dark of night. He was in London! His entire body swelled with excitement as he gazed around the city.
"Don't get too excited," Emily said gesturing to something in front of her.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Look," she said, gesturing to what he realized was a discarded paper. Harry walked over and looked at the headline. It was enough to answer his question, but he looked down at the date on it as well.
"Nineteen thirty-six?" he frowned.
"Right island, wrong decade," Emily frowned.
"Shit," Harry sighed. "What now?"
"You wouldn't happen to know of a Maitland Road would you?" she asked. Something swirled in her head as she said it. But she couldn't quite figure out what it was. It was like having a word on the tip of her tongue. The feeling of being entirely positive about something but unable to put it into words.
"No," Harry frowned.
"We need to find a place to stay," she said.
"Last time we didn't stay long," Harry said, ducking under the awning and out of the rain.
"Yes," she responded. "But we have no idea if that will be a consistent theme."
"Well, any suggestions?" Harry asked. He gazed around the gloomy evening, the rain causing evening fog on the streets. He examined the old buildings around them. Nothing looked familiar to him. There were a few closed storefronts lining the street. Down the way he saw a fenced off building that looked vaguely like a school.
"I've never been here," she said. "It's your home town."
"In half a century," Harry countered. "And I'm from Surrey!"
"You are very unhelpful," she said.
"Perhaps I can help?" A man said. Harry turned and saw a policeman pacing down the street. Emily smiled at him, brushing her hair over her shoulder.
"Do you know a Maitland Road?" she asked.
"Three streets over," the man said, gesturing to his left.
"Thank you," Emily said sweetly, flashing her one dimpled smile. "Sorry to be such a bother."
"No problem, Ma'am. Be best to get out of the rain," the officer said before continuing on his way. Emily started walking in the direction the man indicated and Harry followed. A few moments later he noticed the officer followed as well.
"He's following us," Harry said quietly as they followed the man's directions.
"Of course he is," Emily said. "It's late and we're suspicious. And our clothing would certainly seem odd to him."
"I don't like being followed," Harry said.
"I don't blame you, but we appear to be almost there," Emily responded, her eyes gazing up at the numbers on the doors as she turned down the third street they came to. The officer followed them but Emily ignored him. About halfway down the street they found number fifteen. It was a modest looking two-story building.
Emily stepped up to the door and opened it with the key, stepping in without further comment. Harry did his best to ignore the officer as he followed her into the house, locking the door behind him.
The salty scent of the sea greeted him as he turned around. It was odd for an indoor dwelling. He pushed that thought from his head as Emily stepped out of the entryway.
His next thought was that the interior did not match the exterior. The proportions were off. It took too many steps to get through the entry way. And then the massive library he noticed at the end of it was obviously out of place.
"What is this?" Harry asked.
"Seth was never one for subtlety," Emily said. "Then again I doubt he ever entertained so he'd never have to explain it."
"How?" Harry asked.
"Surely you've been in a magical dwelling before," Emily said. "Even mine was bigger on the inside."
"But…" Harry said, gazing around rooms that were at least the size of what the house should have been.
"Don't look in the garden if that's bothering you so much," Emily laughed gesturing toward what he assumed was the kitchen. Harry turned and stepped into that room. It was indeed a kitchen, although the assortment of appliances all seemed from the wrong era, although he fully admitted he wasn't up to par on nineteen thirty kitchenware. But that only distracted him for a moment.
Instead he saw an open French door leading out to a warm beach. The smell of salt-water suddenly became apparent as he stepped onto the cool sand. While it had been raining in London, there was no sign of it on the beach. He gazed around, trying to figure out just where he could be when Emily laughed from behind him.
"Where is this?" he laughed.
"Nowhere," Emily said. "He probably just made it."
"How?" Harry asked.
"Almost anything is possible with enough patience, Harry," Emily said.
"But, we're inside and," he shook his head. While he hadn't seen magic of that nature. It really shouldn't have surprised him. He knew from the World Cup that living spaces could be enlarged. But he'd thought that magic was incredibly difficult to maintain for an extended period. And from the look of it, this had been in place for a very long time. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.
"This is nuts," Harry said as everything started to occur to him in rapid succession. Just today he'd been in the nineties, the thirties, and pre-antiquity. That shouldn't be possible. But it had to be, because it happened. He stepped toward one of the lounging chairs on the beach and leaned against the back of it to steady himself.
"And I believe you had questions you wanted to pose to me," she said.
"I did," Harry said.
"Would you mind terribly if I asked one first?" she asked.
"I guess not," Harry said, resisting the temptation to tell her that she already had.
"What's your poison?" she asked.
"Huh?" he responded, but it clicked a minute later. "Oh I've only ever had wine and champagne."
"Let's go back into the kitchen, uncork one, and talk then," she said.
"Okay," he replied and followed her. There were three chairs at the table in the kitchen. Harry pulled out the lone one on the side and sat in it while Emily examined the wine. She picked out a bottle of French white, making a face at it, and poured two glasses. She set one on the table near him before finding an ornate silver bucket and filling it with ice. She put the bottle in it and walked with it and her glass over to the table. Harry watched her, thinking she seemed far too familiar with her surroundings.
"Well?" she asked as she sat at the table. She pulled her hair out of the braid and shook it out, letting the auburn locks fall down her back.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Circe," she said.
"The Circe?" he asked.
"I assume that what they said about me after, what they did to my memory, made it a rather uncommon name," she responded.
"Why Emily?" he asked.
"I didn't want to scare you," she said too quickly. "I assumed the stigma with the name would be there."
"Yet you picked the one name that could send a shiver up my spine," Harry said.
"Bad luck," she shrugged and looked away from him, hiding her expression by sipping her wine.
"So, you're the Goddess of Magic?" he asked.
"Now that's complicated," she sighed.
"Isn't it a yes or no question?" he asked.
"It depends on your opinion of divinity. But as a whole I would say no. My mother, Hecate, is more often given the title that you asked for." she paused as she finished speaking. The words felt wrong on her tongue. An argument was starting in her memories. She drank more wine hoping it would go away.
"Is she still alive?"
"I don't know," she said. "I should have asked Seth. There was never much love between us, though."
"How does that even work? Aren't Gods supposed to be immortal?" Harry asked.
"Again, that depends on your definition of mortality," Emily said.
"You're not really making any sense," he responded.
"I know. I'm sorry. It's…well, witches and wizards have existed for as long as humans have existed. But the world wasn't always quite as connected as it is now. So imagine you're living back a few thousand years. And there's a guy up on a hill obsessed with lightning that has been there since you were a kid and your parents have stories of how he was there when they were kids and so on. And, every now and then, he helps, or performs a miracle, or does something that can't be explained," Emily said.
"So the Gods are all fake?" Harry asked.
"No. I mean…maybe? Imagine Nicholas Flamel, I believe you're familiar enough with him, but with a superiority complex. Eventually people figure it out. Especially our kind. Recognition gives it away. But he can live for so long. Wizards already live naturally longer. And there's way to augment that. Stories get told, stories spread," Emily said.
"The myths are true?" Harry asked.
"Some of them," Emily said. "Some aren't. Some claim my mother was a nymph name Perse."
"You slept with Odysseus!" Harry said, not really sure why that came to the forefront of his mind.
"Yes," she responded.
"Wait, didn't you like have his kid and then marry his other kid or something?" Harry asked, vaguely recalling a myth of that nature.
"As I said, some of the myths aren't true. People have always liked stories. And we were interesting enough subjects. Either way I've never been pregnant," Emily said. She paused when she said it, looking momentarily contemplative. But then she continued. "And I never saw him, or any member of his family, after he left Aeaea."
"I thought that was such a common part of the myth," Harry said.
"Even if it is, is everything they write about you true?" Emily asked.
"No, I guess not," Harry said. "Why'd you do it?"
"What? Sleep with Odysseus?" she blinked as she said it, wondering why he would even ask that sort of question.
"Yes," he said, blushing as he spoke.
"He was fit and attractive and I was bored and lonely," she shrugged. "Being trapped on an island with no other population doesn't give you a lot of options. It's when the animals start looking attractive that you realize you have a problem."
"Oh," Harry said, looking away and flushing a deep crimson.
"Trust me. You get a little stir crazy and sometimes you come up with ideas that are best not thought about or acted upon," Emily teased.
"Like what?" Harry asked.
"For both our sakes I'm not going to answer that question," Emily said. "Although I will say that I improved upon most of Odysseus's crew when I turned them into animals."
"Pigs," Harry said, something sticking out in the back of his mind. A question rose to his lips, but he didn't speak it as bile joined it in his throat. He washed it away with a sip of wine, knowing he didn't want the answer to it at that moment.
"Is that what they say now? I didn't turn them all to pigs. That would have been too easy and too boring," Emily said. "I mean they were so very annoying. I remember a lot of foxes and cats."
"Yes. You're not really, from what I remember, painted very favorably," Harry said.
"That's fine," Emily responded.
"It doesn't bother you?" he said.
"Should it?" Emily asked.
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "You mentioned Flamel. Is that how you stay alive so long? The Elixir of Life I mean."
"No," Emily said.
"Could you even make it?" He asked.
"Yes," she smirked, as if she found that amusing. His eyes narrowed before he asked his next question
"Then how are you still alive?"
"My father was a Titan and my mother was a Goddess," Emily shrugged. Something was wrong about that statement in her head. She wanted to argue the particulars of it. But there was little point in arguing with herself. The notion of her mother having power didn't sit well in her mind. Something rang false about that statement. But she knew it was completely true.
"But you just said they weren't any different than witches and wizards," Harry said.
"It's complicated," she sighed. "For the purpose of generic questioning the difference doesn't matter. But honestly, Harry, I've always just been what I am. Mortality has never been a thought. I don't know how it works. The how never really mattered to me. It was just a way of differentiating us from the common mortal trash."
"That's not a very nice way to refer to humanity," Harry said.
"It is not. But it was what I was taught for the first years of my life," Emily said.
"Is it what you think now?" he asked.
"Depends on the human," she responded.
"Me?" he asked. She raised her brows at him and sipped her wine.
"What about you?" she countered.
"Am I a trash human?" he sighed, annoyed at having to reiterate the question.
"No," she chuckled and smiled at him, her sole dimple standing out on her thin face. Her expression became oddly playful as she answered. Harry had the strangest feeling she meant something else. Like she was only answering part of the question. Was he trash, or was he human? The consequences of that phrase were far too much for him to compute at that moment, so he went back to his questions.
"So, you won't ever die?" he asked.
"No," she sighed and he realized they'd covered this already. "We can be killed. We just stop aging. I don't know why. I've never wanted to find out why."
"Has anyone? I mean are there any theories?" Harry asked.
"Plenty," she said. "The most common two are elixir of life in the womb or just magically strong enough that the magic doesn't let you."
"Those aren't good explanations," Harry said.
"I didn't say they would be," she said. Harry knew there were just talking in circles. He sighed and asked one more questions.
"What do you want me to call you?" he asked.
"Emily is fine," she shrugged. "It certainly fits in more with the era and you've used it for a year. If you want to switch it to Circe I'll still respond."
"Circily?" he asked.
"No," she said. But there was a ghost of a smile in her refusal.
"Okay," he said. "What do we do now?"
"Wait," she responded. "We're here for a reason, supposedly. It's time to see what that reason is."
"I don't like waiting," Harry admitted.
"I don't think anyone does," Emily said.
"How long do you think we'll be here?" he asked.
"I have no idea," she said. "But we may as well make ourselves comfortable while we are. I'd take the master suite but that seems odd if the master comes by to use it. So why don't we head upstairs to see what the bedrooms are?"
"Fine," Harry said, knowing she was just trying to distract him. They returned to the staircase in the foyer just a few minutes later. There were about a score of bedrooms upstairs. The first one they opened was a cluttered mess. Harry looked around at it in shock. It definitely had a lived in feel to it. There was queen sized canopied bed and a large vanity with all sorts of makeup around it. There were bookshelves, a large television, and band posters on the walls.
"This does not look right," Harry said.
"I guess not," Emily said. Harry took a moment to look at some of the photos on the vanity. There was one of Seth and a blonde woman with silvery eyes hugging a similar looking teen. Next to it there was another of the same teen, looking a little older, smiling with a dark haired girl about her same age. And a third photo of her and the other girl arm and arm with two boys. A very precise hand had traced 'A, B and Cs' around the frame. Both girls wore dresses that were definitely not of the current era, yet were in front of a backdrop of architecture that was either ancient or not of this world.
"What is this?" Harry asked,
"Someone else's room," Emily said, pulling him from it and continuing down the hallway.
"Are we sure the paper said nineteen thirty?" Harry asked.
"Yes. From what you saw does it surprise you that the house is anachronistic?" Emily asked.
"Perhaps not," Harry said as Emily opened another door halfway down the hall.
"This one looks normal," Emily said as she peered in. Harry looked around her shoulder sand saw what looked like a standard hotel room. The furnishings in this one appeared to be of the correct era.
"Who's do you think that was?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Emily said. Harry thought she sounded a little stiff as she spoke, her voice filled with something akin to regret. "I'm going to take this one."
"Okay," Harry said. She kept her back to him, as he she didn't want him to look at her in that moment. He took the hint and moved further down the hallway. He walked by two more doors before opening one and finding it to be much like the one he'd left her in. He stepped in and looked around at the room, wondering just how long it would be home for.
There wasn't any clothing in the room, but that didn't surprise him too much. He stripped down to his underwear and moved toward the bed, figuring his best course of action this evening was purely to sleep.
The next few days dragged. It stayed rainy and Harry constantly wondered why anyone would bother living on this Island when the Greek Isles existed. He spent the first day looking at period appropriate attire only to realize he hated it and decided to just wear versions of jeans and t-shirts he could transfigure. Emily showed him a charm that made Muggles not notice.
They spent the first few days just wandering around London, looking for anything that stuck out to him. Nothing really did. He'd wander around the city in the morning and return to the house around lunch time. Which typically coincided with Emily deciding she'd enjoyed enough of the magical sun on the indoor beach.
Harry still couldn't figure out if it was entirely a created beach made from pure magic or if it was just some sort of transportation spell to a time and a place where there wouldn't be other people around to notice them. But he couldn't figure it out one way or another and when he asked Emily she just shrugged as if she didn't really care about the detail. All he knew was it was perfectly capable of giving him sunburn and while she'd put lotion on him once, he didn't want to have to ask her to do it again.
She'd make lunch and then they'd wander more about the city. Wandering with her was different than when he did it alone. She was more interested in seeing new things and enjoying herself, while he spent every waking moment looking over his shoulder for a portal. They'd found Diagon Alley and Harry found he started stopping there at least once a day. It felt good to be part of the magical world. Although there were moments when it was quite strange. Like seeing a very young Ollivander manning the wand shop. And once, he could have sworn he saw a disturbingly attractive Madame Hooch entering the broom store.
They'd typically eat out amidst their wanderings. Emily was equally interested in trying fish and chips wrapped in newspaper as she was fine dining. The dining options in the thirties surprised him. But the magical world seemed to have better options than the Muggle one so they'd usually at somewhere in the Alley, and then they'd return home.
The night often brought part of a bottle of wine. Before they slept and started the entire routine over again. They days bled away and with each passing hour Harry found himself more antsy. He kept wondering if it would wind up being years in the thirties. But he knew that was thinking far too far ahead. So, he tried to push the thought out of his head and continued wandering through London.
His attention was drawn to an orphanage not far from Seth's house. He wandered toward the wrought iron fence that lined the property and stared at the building. It was well kept but still managed to have a distinctly run down feel to it. Perhaps it was just the nature of the drab, cool days. Or maybe it was just the occupants wearing distinctly shabby clothing.
Of course, it could have just been their situation, he thought, that made everything seem dour to him. Not that their situation was much different than his as a child. At least the generalities of it.
A few kids were playing along the side of the building, kicking a ball back and forth while a few others watched. Harry watched the game for a few minutes. Although calling it a game seemed to be a bit of a stretch, there seemed to be no real rules or anything of that nature. But that didn't seem to deter their enjoyment.
He couldn't help but wonder if he would have preferred that. In theory, he knew, that every one of the kids before him probably wished there was an aunt and uncle to take them in, feed them, clothe them, take care of them. But in practice he couldn't help but wonder if he would have preferred to be amongst others his age. He shook that thought from his head, knowing full well that thinking too hard about it would just cause him to become depressed.
He walked down the length of the building, moving past the children playing and down toward the house. He was distracted by a girl sitting on the front steps of the orphanage. She was perhaps ten, with lanky brown hair and very dour features. She was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, her face pressed against her legs. Harry peered at her for a moment, wondering just why she wasn't joining in with the other children.
A moment later an older woman, perhaps in her sixties, came out from the door, annoyance in her voice as she spoke. Harry heard familiar words, words of complaint about the child. It could have easily been his Aunt Petunia talking to him.
But it wasn't. The woman harped at the girl, who seemed to grow smaller with each word. The argument seemed dull to him. Just that it was time to come in and get cleaned up for the evening and that she couldn't hide out front forever. The girl didn't move until the woman took her hand and dragged her inside.
Harry frowned to himself at that, thinking that it really probably wasn't much different than the Dursley's. A sickening feeling welled in his stomach as he walked, but he couldn't really place the cause of it. He assumed that he was just hungry.
He was back at the house in moments. One glance in the kitchen told him that Emily was probably still at the beach, so he walked out there. It was a very warm and humid day there and he instantly regretted the light jacket and jeans he wore.
It was only about twenty paces from the door to the small cabana with a few lounge chairs set up. He walked up to them and sat down at one underneath an umbrella while looking at the chair in the sun
Emily lay on her back, sunglasses over her eyes, a small smile on her face as she enjoyed the warmth. She was wearing a green bikini that was obviously not of the era and, if Harry was honest, made him slightly uncomfortable. A thin sheen of sweat was visible on her body, her tanned skin gleaming in the sun.
"Did you pass out or just not hungry this afternoon?" he asked.
"Can't feed yourself?" she teased.
"Of course I can," Harry said. "Was just curious as to how much food I should make."
"I could eat," she said.
"I'll get something started," he responded, standing from his chair and moving toward the exit and away from the magical humidity.
He entered the kitchen and started through the oddly modern cabinets and appliances. It was all still a bit strange to him. It was very easy to forget what year it was while inside the house.
There wasn't a whole lot of food readily available. He frowned as he looked through the cabinets and the refrigerator, again assuming that wasn't a common thing for the period. He couldn't find much outside of some basic vegetables.
He diced chunks of cucumber and tomato, tossing them into a bowl. He found some olives next and just threw them in with the vegetables. Next he grabbed a book from underneath the counter. He let his fingers trace over the bright pages, paging absently to where he knew the dressings were. But he paused and flipped to the copyright at the front.
He couldn't help but chuckle as he stared down at it for a few moments, before flipping back to the dressings.
"Did I just hear a laugh from mister dour?" Emily asked as she entered the kitchen. He was stirring the ingredients together in a measuring cup as she entered.
"Probably," Harry said, raising a brow at her comment. He didn't think his mood had been that poor of late.
"What was so amusing then?" she asked, sitting at a stool near the counter. Harry looked at everything but her as she sat down. As pleasant as it was, it could be rather distracting.
"This cook book I'm using a dressing recipe from wasn't published when we were back in normal time," Harry said.
"That sounds like something Seth would do," Circe said.
"You'd think people would notice," he said.
"I doubt any of the locals can even see this place, much less have ever been allowed inside it," she said.
"Still there's always a chance they stumble onto it," Harry said. He put the bowl of chopped vegetables and the cup of dressing before her, before going and grabbing a couple of smaller bowls out of a cabinet and slid one to her.
"Not with Seth," She said as she summoned a pair of tongs to her and picked out what she wanted before drizzling some of the dressing over it and adding a few more olives. He took the tongs from her and picked at the remnants.
"If you insist," he said.
"This isn't bad," she said, gesturing to his lunch.
"It's pretty much the first thing you served me," Harry said. "And we don't really have any other food here. We might want to actually stock up on groceries."
"We were worried about how long we'd be here and leaving food," Emily said.
"And that doesn't seem like it's going to be something that is resolved quickly. So we may as well at least have access to whatever we want to eat," Harry said.
"I'm okay with that," Emily yawned. "We can stop by the alley and get some food this afternoon."
"Okay," Harry said. They ate fairly quickly and Emily wandered up to her room shortly after. Harry passed the time by reading recipes in the cook book while sitting at the table. She emerged a few minutes later wearing a dress that was considerably less flattering than her green bikini. Which did at least mean he could look at her without blushing.
"Shall we head to the market?" she asked. She had a purse thrown over her shoulder and took a moment to peer through it.
"Alright," Harry said. They left the house and walked toward Diagon Alley. It had become a bit of a routine, so it was slightly odd to him when she wandered off down the wrong street. But he didn't say anything. Instead he lagged behind as she peered into shops and around the city, a constant amused look on her face.
It took them a while to even make it to the alley. And even longer to shop. Then, since it wasn't that terrible of a day out, she insisted they walk back with the groceries. Which seemed mildly pointless to Harry as they were all shrunk and in one bag anyway. But he obliged without comment and helped her put them away upon their return.
Only to have her decide that she wanted to go out to dinner. So, Harry took her out to dinner. They drew some strange stares from the other patrons but Harry ignored it. Emily seemed a little bit distracted, spending a great deal of time peering around him and looking around the restaurant. She seemed moderately distracted by something but it became clear that she wasn't going to talk about it. He didn't press.
About halfway through the meal she stopped eating. Harry watched her for a few moments before asking what was wrong. Nothing, she insisted. He returned to his food, keeping a quizzical eye on her as she put her silverware down and did everything in her power to make it look like she wasn't staring at one point. Harry didn't notice anything unusual about the other diners. He thought her eyes focused on what looked like a father and daughter eating at a corner table. But he couldn't get a good enough look at them without being incredibly obvious. And he was more interested in his food than the other diners.
Still, he tried to make conversation, finding the silence a little bit unnerving. But that could have just been the tension that pooled from her. Her shoulders and back were incredibly stiff in that moment. He wondered if too much time on a lounge chair was catching up to her.
She paid rather abruptly and left the restaurant while Harry was still finishing up. He chased her back onto the street. It was starting to drizzle as he stepped onto the street. He peered left and right but saw no real sign of where she was going.
He closed his eyes for a moment and focused. It was a trick she'd taught him early on on the island. They'd brought it up at school too, but never to the extent she'd shown him. Magic always left a trace. And he knew her magic. It felt off to call it her scent as it wasn't associated with that sense. But that was the word that stuck in his head.
He'd been around her magic for over a year. She taught him things with her magic. He knew her magic. He knew how it felt, he knew what to look for. He knew what it was like even when she wasn't actively wielding it.
He turned left and moved quickly down the street.
It took him a few blocks to catch up to her. She was standing on a street corner, unbothered by the water landing on her. Her eyes were razor focused on one building in front of her.
Harry stood next to her, peering at the house she paused by. There were only a few other people out and about on the rainy evening.
"Friends of yours?" Harry asked, nodding toward the house.
"Acquaintances," Emily said dryly. Her gaze flashed down the street as a man and a girl turned up it. Harry thought he recognized them from the restaurant but they were too far away from him to tell for sure.
"I sense there's more to it than that," Harry said.
"Perhaps," Emily shrugged, as if she herself wasn't quite sure yet.
"Well how does an Ancient Greek witch have friends in the thirties of England?" Harry asked.
"I'm not ancient," Emily scoffed, as if offended by the remark.
"Didn't answer the question," Harry said.
"I guess not," she responded. "I don't know them. At least I don't think I do. But something is telling me to be here. And there's something familiar about it. Something just under the surface."
"Interesting," Harry said. His attention turned to the man and the girl as they approached the house. Suddenly, the girl looked rather familiar. "I think that girl lives at the orphanage down the road."
"Oh," Emily said rather emotionlessly as the man fumbled through his pocket for his keys. The man found the key and unlocked the door. His arm slid around the girl, his hand resting on her back as he motioned, he led her inside. Harry watched as his hand slid down her backside as he pushed her through the threshold.
"Did he just," Harry turned to Emily. Her expression stopped him in place. Her eyes were narrow and furious, her jaw clenched. He could feel power radiating from her as she stared at the building, tensing to move toward it.
But she didn't pounce. After a moment her expression grew blank and her eyes turned up toward the second story of the building. He could feel the raw power surrounding her, feel the fury in it that no longer showed on her face. And he knew he'd have to calm her or a street of Muggle London may vanish forever.