Chapter 2

Warning - Mentions of slavery and historically typical violence.

Year of the Consulship of Lentulus and Philippus (56 BCE)

"A druid…what…no I'm not," replied Harry with a frown. The Reconstituted Ancient Order of Druids were a bunch of twits who were constantly and ineffectually lobbying the Ministry for their 'ancient rights' to be restored. Mainly they wanted certain potions decriminalised so that they could 'alter their perceptions'.

"I saw you cast your magic. We had a druid that visited my people for decades. Ludd the Lame's magic felt like yours," explained Sawyl.

"Your people are?" prompted Harry.

"I am of the Remi who hold these lands," replied Sawyl with pride.

Harry wasn't a history buff, but he had once done a project on Julius Caesar and had compiled a list of the different tribes of ancient Gaul. He had a sinking suspicion that the Remi were Gallic … . The trouble was that meant he was in bloody France. So, if this wasn't a bad dream or some sort of Weasley prank, then he was in deep fucking trouble.

"Are you well?" asked Sawyl as Harry paled.

"No…well, I'm a bit further from home than I had anticipated. Could you direct me to the nearest town?" Harry asked. He was hoping he was given directions to a nice modern town.

"The closest town is a day south of here. A fishing village on the river," explained Sawyl as he pointed off to the south.

Harry could work with that, "Right, thank you."

Sawyl watched, confused as the Druid stalked off into the bushes. All the while muttering to himself. It was rather odd, but one did not question Druids as they went about their business.

Meanwhile, Harry made his way south until he could see a hill in the distance. He studied it carefully before picturing it in his mind. The three D's, Destination, Determination, and Deliberation.

With a crack that startled birds to flight he was gone.

oOoOo

It took several hours but he finally had what looked like a large village in sight. It was built on the river and had several wooden jetties. The entire village had a nearly eight-foot-high wooden fence around it. The other thing he noticed was that it was deserted.

"Okay, so a deserted village. That's not bloody ominous, is it?" Harry asked himself as tried to decide on a next step.

Then he heard it. A vibration more than a noise. Turning he looked west and saw something that shattered any hope that this was simply a rustic part of the countryside.

It was an army.

A Roman army. That had just crested a hill and was marching in his direction.

He stood there, stunned watching the impossible, unsure what to do.

As it turned out he waited too long.

oOoOo

Harry grimaced but resisted the urge to grimace as he was escorted (dragged and prodded by weapons) by a bunch of Roman legionaries. Their destination seemed to be a large tent.

'Why didn't I just apparate?' Harry mused as he was pushed to his knees outside the tent. Of course, he still could but he had never tried to apparate with a sword poking him in his back. 'A better question is why did I try and talk to the bloody mounted scouts?' Harry thought with some annoyance as he waited.

Thank God that he had managed a translation spell before he was 'captured'.

"In," ordered the man behind him. "And mind your manners!"

Harry almost replied before rising slowly to his feet and walking into the tent.

A man in his early forties, wearing roman armour, was looking over what appeared to be an odd-looking map. He turned, and Harry bit back a shocked exclamation. He had a pretty good idea who he was facing.

"You may go Atticus," ordered Gaius Julius Caesar with a wave to Harry's guard.

"Sir," replied the man behind Harry as he turned and left.

Caesar studied him for a moment before sighing, "My scouts suspect that you are a Gallic scout. I for one doubt it, considering how you were caught. So, if you are not, who are you?"

Harry was still trying to process that the man in front of him looked exactly like the statues of Caesar…hell, he WAS Caesar. That meant that, despite his hope of some sort of delusion, he was in ancient times.

He realised that Caesar was staring at him with evident curiosity.

"Right," muttered Harry. "Bugger this for a game of soldiers." He concentrated and turned sharply as he apparated.

Only to move two feet to his right.

Much to Harry's surprise, Caesar simply raised an eyebrow. "My tent is thoroughly warded young wizard. Well, this is quite interesting." Caesar said conversationally as he took a few steps to sit down on a stool. He waved for Harry to take a seat on the much plainer stool nearby. "You are not the first wizard we have encountered. Magi, sorcerers, druids, we have faced them all and thus take precautions. Although you are the first that I've seen not using a staff as your foci."

Caesar looked toward the tents opening and waved away whoever was there. "So, I will ask again, who are you?"

"Harry Potter," replied Harry as he watched Caesar cautiously.

"Hmmm…and are you an enemy, Harry the Potter?"

Now it was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Does anyone ever say yes?"

Caesar's lips quirked up into a smile, "Not often, no. I think you are not my enemy Harry the Potter. But it might be wise for me to treat you as one."

Harry tensed slightly, his hand tightening around his still hidden wand. "I'm not your enemy, Hell, I've never seen a Roman before."

"And yet you speak Latin fluently," replied Caesar.

Harry suddenly realised just how deep in the hole he really was. He had no money, job, home or allies and he was trapped in bloody France in Roman times WITH no way to get home that he could think of. "I learned it magically," he admitted.

"Governor?"

Caesar turned slightly to study a man in the doorway. Harry looked to see a swarthy middle-aged man in a red robe in the doorway. Then he noticed the staff.

"Ah Lucius, Harry this is Lucius Barbillus one of my medicus vulnerarius," seeing Harry's blank look, Caesar explained further. "A surgeon or physician in the legions. He is also an accomplished wizard. Lucius, this is Harry the Potter."

"Just Harry Potter will do…ah, Sir…General?"

Caesar smiled, seemingly amused. "Just Caesar will do in private."

Lucius Barbillus studied Harry with a raised eyebrow, "A wizard, then I greet you, Harry Potter. An odd name, Gremani is it?"

Harry could see Caesar watching him. "No, British or Britannica…um, ish?"

"Ah…a Druid?" Lucius asked with some interest.

Harry shook his head, "No…it's a long, complicated and I assure you unbelievable story. Gods…I've lived it and I don't believe it."

Lucius studied him, "I suppose it must be. Your dress alone is intriguing. Dragon skin, I assume although I cannot place your tunic and boots. What wood was your foci?"

"Holly and Phoenix feather," replied Harry. There wasn't a lot to be gained from lying. He slowly pulled it out. It appeared that Lucius was rather surprised.

"May I see it?" He must have sensed Harry's reluctance because he quickly continued. "I simply wish to examine it."

Harry handed his wand over with a nod.

Lucius studied it and then said something under his breath. He then scrutinised the wand closely before handing it back. "Amazing, I've not seen a foci so small before. I can see the advantage of it for fine work but I'm not sure how well it serves on a battlefield."

"It served me well enough in my adventures," Harry replied with a touch of asperity. After all he was talking about his wand.

"Potters have adventures?" Caesar asked with a smile.

"I'm not a Potter, that's my family name," seeing their confusion he tried to explain. He'd read something about Roman names, years ago. What was it? Three names. First name, family name and the third name, something to identify them among families that often shared names. "Ah my praenomen is Harry, my nomen is Potter."

"Ah," said Caesar. "What then is your profession, Harry?"

This was a rather difficult question to answer. He was pretty damn sure that Aurors did not exist. "I was training as a dark wizard catcher."

Caesar looked rather puzzled, but Lucius had a grim expression on his face.

"Lucius?" questioned Caesar with a raised eyebrow.

Lucius shook his head, "Among those who practice magic some turn to dark and forbidden things. Those of us that do not tread that path make a point of avoiding them. A very few like Harry here, hunt them down. It is an honourable profession and a rather dangerous one. What of your master?"

Right, how the hell to manage that question? Harry decided to answer somewhat truthfully…from a certain point of view. "He died, killed to protect me."

Lucius frowned, "And how did you arrive here?"

"A fellow wizard had me testing a transportation spell. One that was meant to cancel out travel time. It failed or perhaps worked to well. I ended up arriving well before I had left."

Lucius and Caesar were looking at him oddly.

"How long before you left?" Lucius asked after a few moments.

Harry grimaced, "Well before I was born."

oOoOo

They had taken it rather well.

Caesar had confined him to a tent, as a guest. Although he had been fed. Some hardboiled eggs and some sort of stew. It wasn't too bad, and he had been rather hungry. He sat on the hard camp bed and waited. He wasn't sure what the Romans would do but if it came down to it, he'd risk trying to fight his way free.

"Harry?"

Somehow, he had missed the arrival of Lucius.

Harry studied the wizard, but the older man's expression wasn't giving anything away.

"Come quickly, the General wishes to speak with you."

Harry got up and followed Lucius back to the large tent in the centre of the camp. All around them were soldiers, servants (Harry assumed that they were slaves but had no way of telling) and others that looked like Gauls. He had not expected it to be so busy but then again what had he expected?

The two guards announced them, and they were quickly ushered in.

"Ah, thank you Lucius Barbillus. I wish to talk to Harry alone."

Lucius bowed and left the tent, not even glancing at Harry.

"You Harry have presented me with a thorny problem," Caesar waved him to the same stool he had sat on before.

Harry sat, careful to keep his eye on Caesar.

"You are a man from the future," Caesar stopped and smiled wryly at him. "Oh, yes, I believe you. Barbillus assures me that such a thing is possible. Even if he knows of no way to replicate it. I am a hard man to lie to, being both a military man and a politician. I trust my own judgement that you are telling us most of the truth. Of course, you are omitting things. I understand that. It was a rather wise decision…given the temptation that you present."

Harry could feel himself sweating. Why the hell had he not listened when Hermione had told him all the things not to do when she had used that bloody time turner!

"I don't doubt that you have knowledge of the future. My future, the future of Rome," he trailed off as he looked out the tents entrance. "I once lived for some months in the kingdom of Bithynia. The king, Nicomedes was an old man at the time but a good ally to the Senate and the people of Rome. In truth he was a decent man and rather good host. During my time there he introduced me to a Greek philosopher named Dimodes. I had many interesting conversations with the man before he returned to Athens. One in particular was about the dangers of foretelling the future."

Harry was wondering where this was going but stayed silent.

"That worthy man argued that knowing the future could be disastrous. He gave the story of a man who had a prophecy given to him that he would die because of his son. The man followed the same wisdom as Kronos, killing each of his sons at birth. After killing his third son, his wife poisoned him for killing her children. He created the circumstances which led to the prophecy being fulfilled. The lesson is, I suppose that knowing the future is dangerous."

"I was told the same thing. That changes, even little ones, might have consequences that are hard to predict," admitted Harry before he shook his head. "I was also prophesied to die. I'm still here and the other man is not. So, yes, I agree that relying on anything I say is a st…a bad idea. Because the minute you change anything, say attacking this town instead of that town. Well, now everything I knew is wrong. Things are different and every change, including me being here, means what I knew in my future is now wrong."

Caesar nodded slowly, "That is my conclusion as well."

Harry relaxed, slightly. It still felt …dangerous. "Although I personally think some aspects of the future sucked. So who knows?"

Caesar sighed, "I will not ask Harry. I will let my life and fate play out."

Harry had to admit that the man was not stupid. "I won't say I can't help. Little warnings, don't have the fish, don't travel by boat, avoid senate meetings in March. They might save you some…inconvenience."

"Wise and Lucius tells me you are powerful as wizards measure such things. Have you considered your future?"

Harry shook his head ruefully, "I am between jobs right now."

Caesar looked away again, "I believe that Lucius could use an assistant. Do you know anything about the healing arts?"

Harry shrugged, "A little that I picked up here and there."

"Then you had best speak to him about it," said Caesar with a flick of his fingers toward the door.

oOoOo

Harry honestly didn't know why he simply didn't leave.

Lucius was a decent chap, serious as hell, but decent enough. Sharing a tent with the man though was a pain in the arse!

It seemed that the man was on call day and night. Just like during Auror training, accidents happened. Even in camp accidents happened. He had assisted Lucius during several procedures and once he had shown that he could heal minor injuries and had a decent idea of basic first aid (he had no idea what the Romans called it) he was assigned to the medicus vulnerarius.

He served there for almost six months before Lucius was visited by a fellow wizard and medical man named Gaius Lesbinus. Gaius was the son of a freedman who had achieved Roman citizenship. Gaius was given a good education and studied magic and medicine under the same teacher as Lucius. He was a short jovial man who had served many years 'under the eagles' before retiring to write and study in his villa near Rome.

Gaius was, Lucius assured Harry, a well-educated wizard who might offer him new avenues to research regarding his dilemma. Gaius was more than willing to take Harry into his household.

Harry had warily approached Caesar who had agreed, paid Harry a stipend for his work. Harry had found that Romans were sticklers for such things. He had also given Harry a scroll that recorded that Harry was now a Roman Citizen.

It was an amazing gift although Caesar had waved off his thanks. He had saved Roman lives. That was enough to earn him Caesar's thanks.

oOoOo

Rome was NOTHING like Harry had expected.

For starters it stank. Really stank. It was pervasive and foul, and Harry was immensely thankful when Gaius explained that his Villa was well outside Rome itself.

But he had gritted his teeth and put up with it for the two days they stayed in a small set of rooms Gaius owned in the city.

Harry spent some of his money on buying new clothes (tailoring was well worth the cost) and ensuring that he had a few togas and tunics for formal occasions. It was on his way back to the apartments that he made one of his best-ever purchases.

Intellectually he had known about slavery. But the institution of slavery and the plight of most of the slaves was something no number of books or movies could prepare you for.

He had watched, disgusted and angry, as women, men, boys and girls were sold. Having had enough he turned to leave when a woman clutching the terrified hand of a young girl was dragged forward.

Her skin colouring was a bit darker the hair too, but her eyes were chocolate brown, and her face was the same shape as Hermione's. The woman was pulled away from her child and cried out, only to be struck by one of the slavers. Harry's wand was in his hand before common sense prevailed.

He walked forward, pushing rudely to the front.

"How much?"

The slaver said a price. Harry didn't even haggle.

"And the girl," he said as he counted out the coins.

"Not for sale, she's for the brothels. They pay well for girls."

Harry resisted the urge to curse the slaver, barely.

"I'll double what you'll get," he promised.

Once again Harry paid the price quoted and a few minutes later was leaning on a wall watching the woman hugging her daughter.

"Dominus, thank you," said the women her eyes downcast.

Harry knew that freeing her, without funds, a home or any immediate plans was not really a good idea. She was clearly Greek or something like it and spoke Latin well enough…perhaps when they were out of Rome.

"What are your names?"

"I am named Cassandra, Dominus. This is my daughter, Penelope."

"My name is Harry. I am pleased to meet you ladies. Now we had best get you off the street so that we can have a proper talk."

Cassandra nodded and took Penelope's hand. She looked terrified and flinched when Harry moved too close. For a moment he wished he had cursed all the slavers.

"I promise you will not be hurt," he said quietly.

Penelope looked a bit less terrified, but Cassandra looked unconvinced.

As they walked, Harry got the odd look but the two 'slaves' were ignored. Cassandra was beautiful but her stained smock was dirty and stained and Penelope's was little more than a sack.

When they returned to the rooms, Gaius was not home so Harry sat the two slaves down in his room. There was only a low stool, so Harry gestured for them to sit on the bed. Cassandra flinched and looked at the floor.

"Dominus, she is too young, I will see to your needs but I…"

Harry suddenly realised what Cassandra was saying…and his mind connected a few dots. Cassandra had been walking stiffly, sore and…gods they had raped her. And she expected him to do the same. His hands curled into fists as he stood.

Only to stop when Cassandra cried out. He took a deep breath.

"I meant what I said, you will come to no harm from me. I was angry that you had been mistreated. Now I insist you rest. I will make arrangements for you and arrange new clothes."

oOoOo

Gaius appeared and was at first amused and then shaking his head with a sad and knowing look. "You are not the first to object to the treatment some house slaves are subjected to. Nor the first to do as you have done. I will not argue against your act for one should not gainsay mercy and kindness. You will need servants to help once we reach my Villa. I only keep a few. So, their inclusion is no burden."

"I don't want damn slaves. I want to free them!" Harry exclaimed with more than a bit of frustration.

Gaius held up a hand, "I understand Harry. But here in the city is not wise. They would likely end up slaves again, in short order. We can see to their needs and talk more at the Villa."

When Gaius and his small household relocated, they had a third wagon. The driver had two passengers. Both dressed as slaves but well-dressed ones. A not uncommon sight with household slaves of the wealthy. Since arriving Harry had discovered that while the vast majority of slaves led miserable lives not all of them had terrible lives. Indeed, some favoured household slaves lived better lives than some of the freeborn poor. Some masters and mistresses considered slaves and extension of their family, albeit a lesser part, and ensured that they received decent care.

A spectator looking closer might wonder at the bemused look on the woman's face.

oOoOo