Author's thank you-s: Foremost to Seldes Katne, my SQ Professor. To Calis-chan, who I hope gets that teaching position in Japan.

Author's note: Chapter 35 is divided into several parts. I've decided to follow the file weight of not more than 30kb per update since a 200kb chapter would be too large.

Hearts and Hourglasses
Chapter 35 - Part One
Truth, Lies & Silence

Where returning to the familiar grounds of Hogwarts comes not without a price.

Autumn, Draco decided, was now his least favorite season. On a shielded ledge extruding from the walls of the highest tower of Hogwarts, the boy lowered himself to squat on the cold stone after spending too long a time just standing and staring at the faded scenery around him.

Faded. Grass had lost the green of life. Brown and orange leaves covering the landscape. Trees bare and naked. Even the sky seemed to lack luster; still blue, but with more than a tinge of gray in it. Faded. Deadened. Waiting for winter to cast clean white over the dying landscape.

He hadn't realized before how gloomy it was up here that first time Lord Slytherin had shown him this secret spot. He had been too concerned with how high they were above the ground, how vast and deep the precipice of the cliff below. How worried he was about the muted winds roaring all around them, frightened that the unseen barrier protecting them might fail. In addition, he had been struggling with shame over appearing cowardly in the older wizard's presence.

But Draco was alone now, confident that he was safe here. While waiting for Harry Potter to arrive, he brooded over the October vista, finding it bothersome to observe and feeling worried, though he didn't know the reason why. Perhaps because it marked the end of some things.

~*~*~

Harry stared at the painting in front of him suspiciously. It was a picture of mountains, a far-ranging perspective. Below the frame, its nameplate said, "As seen from Hogwarts." There was no artist signature, and Harry, as he continued looking at it, found himself becoming drowsier the longer he spend gazing into it.

It was life-like, real. Little puffy clouds moved lazily across the swath of blue sky. The fog crowning the mountains rolled in a wind that Harry couldn't see but could magically feel blowing gently across his face, bringing with it an unmistakable scent of autumn to his nostrils.

He felt as though he could fall into it, just as Alice had gone through the Looking Glass.

Obeying an impulse, Harry lifted his hand and touched his forefinger on a small cottony cloud. He felt not solidity but cool dew. He was touching a cloud. He pushed a little harder, and his hand went through the canvas, the frame and the wall behind. Expecting that, he wasn't surprised. In the next moment, he went inside the painting and found himself outside the castle, on a ledge way up high. Draco was already there, waiting for him.

"Took you long enough," drawled the silver-hair boy sitting on this none-too-safe-looking platform. He was leaning against the wall, his hands up and behind his head, supporting his skull while his legs were extending out, crossed at the ankles. Draco looked quite relaxed and didn't bother to look at Harry while commenting on his tardiness.

Harry chose not to reply and curiously peered over the side of the ledge, adjusting his glasses at the steep drop below. He didn't notice the irked expression that crossed Draco's face momentarily.

"This is great spot," said Harry with enthusiasm, enjoying the scenery of far away mountains and the forever sky dotted with winsome billowing clouds. He had quite forgotten the urgent reason for their meeting, his mind musing on what he felt was lacking about this secret place.

... Wind. That was it. There was only a slight breeze wafting all around them where strong gales should be blowing instead, especially at a spot this high on Hogwarts's cliff-side wall. He knew, because he had once tried to fly across the cliff on his Firebolt.

He heard the sharp clacking of heels hitting stone and glanced aside to see Draco standing up and adjusting the folds his robes to lie down properly. Harry remembered then why they were here and lost no extra time on the wondrous vista all around them.

"You weren't able to convince Lord Slytherin?" Harry asked, and his stomach felt as though a lead ball had been dropped into it when Draco shook his head with a tightly controlled worried and aggravated look on his pale face.

"He keeps on saying it's Gryffindor's decision," complained Draco, and he glared at Harry as though it was his fault that Godric was being stubborn and that Salazar was heeding Godric. Harry frowned at him, about to protest Draco's silent accusation then snapped his mouth shut, feeling quite peeved that though Draco was clearly pinning the blame on him, the other boy hadn't exactly declared it out loud and thus Harry couldn't very well defend himself verbally without appearing ridiculous.

Harry absolutely refused to say, "Don't look at me that way. This isn't my fault," for not only would it make him sound defensive, it would also acknowledge Draco's unspoken insinuation.

So instead, Harry kept stubbornly silent, just furrowing his brows, and after a while, Draco turned away, looking extra bothered that Harry hadn't taken the bait.

His patience was sorely tested when Draco muttered, "Dumb stupid Gryffindors." But still, Harry controlled his temper, seeing passed Draco's sullen exterior to the bleak worry underneath. It mirrored Harry's own.

The Founders were leaving tomorrow. Today was the thirty-ninth day of their visit to the present time. Thirty-nine days ago, Harry had gone to Dumbledore's office and found, not the Headmaster, but a mysteriously glowing Sorting Hat. Curiosity had caused him to place the Hat on his head.

Within the Hat, hand-writing had appeared to greet him, and had politely requested one of Fawkes's feathers. Harry had asked the phoenix, which had kindly provided one of its feathers, and Harry had dropped the feather into the Hat. The next thing the boy had known, the Hogwarts Four had appeared in Dumbledore's office.

Visiting, they were. Only visiting. These weren't the real Founders, long dead and gone, but their memories preserved for over a thousand years. With the power of the feather Fawkes had bequeathed, they had only a limited time to spend in the present. Forty days to be exact, Salazar Slytherin had just revealed a few scant days ago after he and the other Founders returned to Hogwarts after a successful expedition to find a long lost floating fortress called Hierthent.

"There has to be a way to keep them from leaving," Draco murmured in a tone that suggested he was only talking to himself and not to Harry, who found himself sympathizing with the other boy. Of all the people who knew that the Founders had returned, Draco was the one who had formed the strongest attachment to them, to Salazar Slytherin, in particular. Harry could see it quite clearly though wary he was still of the Slytherin Founder.

"... You should let him go, Draco," Harry said awkwardly, and he was irked when Draco gave him a furious look.

"... Well." Cold steely eyes regarded him. "Gryffindor loyalty has obviously degraded."

Harry gritted his teeth. "That is not true, Draco," he barely managed to say calmly. "I want Lord Gryffindor and the others to stay as much as you do."

"You are not trying hard enough to convince them to stay," snapped Draco.

"They don't want to stay-"

"Hah! Those three idiots might prefer oblivion, but I know Lord Slytherin wants to stay."

"You've already heard what he said."

"'It's up to Gryffindor. It's up to Gryffindor'," Draco repeated disrespectfully. "Gryffindor must have brainwashed him."

Harry clenched his hands. "Take that back, Draco. Lord Gryffindor would never do such a thing."

"But you're so eager to let him go, aren't you?"

"No, I am not!"

"Prove it then!"

Much later, Harry would find himself amazed that he hadn't come to blows with Draco on that high ledge. Somehow he had managed to overcome his anger at the other boy's taunting, unlike the summer before on the Hogwarts Express, when he had hexed Draco, Goyle and Crabbe with Furnunculus for expressing disrespect for Cedric Diggory's memory.

Control or acceptance? Was he finally accepting what he had done, for having inadvertently caused the death of another boy? The guilt he always felt every time he thought of Cedric hadn't disappeared entirely, just abated, now turned into a cold numbness, which though difficult, he could at least bear without losing to despair.

~*~*~

Of all the rooms in Wvelte, they usually stayed in Rowena's room.

Sleepy mid-autumn blue skies and soft clouds now cradled what was easily the largest private room. Rowena's room nearly matched the central room outside in size, and the clear transparent walls required that no windows would ever be necessary unless the room's mistress wanted solid walls instead.

But Rowena never did. Thomas Aquinas had designed a room, which she would never tire of even during dreary rainy days.

They were all here now. Rowena observed her three companions fondly from where she was sitting on the side of her bed. Salazar and Godric were slouched comfortably in the sofa. Salazar was playing with the Crysalis, which he had taken from the Hat while Godric was watching him curiously and carefully. In an armchair close by, Helga had also been eyeing Salazar's crystal manipulations, but now she appeared to have dozed off.

"What are you doing?" Godric finally asked after several minutes more of just watching the other wizard manhandle the seemingly fragile Crysalis, which contained their memories and Fawkes' feather.

"Irritating Godric Gryffindor," Salazar answered blandly, still twisting and turning the small crystal over and over in his hands.

"... Salazar."

"Yes, Godric?"

"Stop trying to irritate me."

"I am not trying. I am doing."

Rowena covered her smile that had formed at the utterly bothered expression on Godric's face.

"... Just what are you doing with the Crysalis, Salazar?"

"As I've said before, I am irritating you with it."

She bit her lip to keep from giggling as Godric tried in vain to seize the crystal from Salazar who had jumped off the sofa. As Godric went after him, Salazar ran behind Helga's chair and made certain that the chair and Helga was always in between him and Godric as a chasing game began between the two wizards.

It wasn't long before Helga was jostled out of her nap by their roughhousing. A few moments later, both wizards were cowed back into their seats by Helga, who was furiously brandishing the Crysalis that she had snatched from Salazar.

"Will you two ever grow up?!"

"Sorry, Helga," chorused Godric and Salazar, sounding just like two naughty boys caught doing a bad deed. Rowena shook her head at them and at Helga who continued to regard them suspiciously. How they enjoy teasing Helga.

There was a soft familiar and pleasant trill as Helga handed the Crysalis to Godric, and Fawkes appeared on Godric's shoulder. The wizard jumped, startled by the phoenix's unexpected appearance. As once before, the Crysalis began to glow with a brilliant inner light and floated up from Godric's hand.

Fawkes' song grew louder and more wondrous, and the Crysalis changed shape, turning into a phoenix feather... and three more. Like a fan, four crystal feathers spread apart, joined together only at their base points. As Fawkes finished his song, the Crysalis turned back into its former shape and landed gently on Godric's palm.

Fawkes trilled once more before leaving. As the phoenix disappeared in a shimmer of flame and gold, they all turned to Salazar, whose face seemed as though it was carved from stone.

His expression didn't change when Godric ground out, "You recharged it."

Helga breathed out tiredly as she sat back down in her chair. Rowena stood up, concerned. Godric looked ready to hit Salazar, who appeared expectant and ready to take a thrashing.

The air seemed to grow thicker, tension mounting as Godric just stared at Salazar, whose eyes never flickered or wavered from the angry accusation in Godric's eyes.

There was a barest flinch from Salazar when Godric finally stood up, picked up his Sorting Hat and stuffed back the Crysalis into it for safekeeping. Then, without another word, he turned away from Salazar and walked to the door.

No furious words were spoken, no doors slammed in broken temper. As the door closed with unnerving quiet behind Godric, Helga finally broke the heavy silence with a huffy sigh and a muttered, "I knew it." Reluctantly, she stood up and went after Godric.

When they were alone, Rowena walked over to the sofa and sat down in the space Godric vacated. She faced Salazar, who was still impersonating a statue. There was a tiny light of recognition in hard cold emerald eyes when he saw her. Rowena could feel his stubborn inner struggle against guilt for having broken his promise to Godric. Also, she could hear his anger, not at Godric's stubbornness, but at himself for feeling troubled at having betrayed the other wizard's trust.

I should not care. I should not. I should not. She could hear the short words mumbled silently again and again in his mind. She had heard them before in another time caused by a different set of circumstances.

And as before, no words would ease Salazar's inner torment. After long moments, Salazar finally relaxed and allowed his body respite from awkward stiffness. He laid back against the sofa, closing his eyes with a tired wordless regretful noise.

~*~*~

Slender fingers tenderly caressed his throbbing temples, and Salazar allowed a smile to form on his lips. The pressure from Rowena's fingers increased, becoming a firm massage, which eased away the pain of having to deal with two differing consciences. One insisted he had done wrong. The other praised his actions. The latter was losing ground, and Salazar found himself thankful that Rowena hadn't left him alone.

I don't want to be alone right now. Salazar opened his eyes to find Rowena's fair face mere inches from his own. She was frowning slightly, her eyes not looking at him, rather further up. She was concentrating on her healing ministrations, and Salazar felt warmed by her presence. His heart began to ache. Tightness, a feeling akin to the yearning he had to endure several times before when they were apart from each other. But why did he feel this way now, he didn't understand. She was with him now.

Blue eyes flickered with little surprise, focusing on him finally when he kissed her. Her hands fell away from his head, resting on his shoulders instead as he urged her nearer, closer against him. Regret and guilt drained away as both his mind and body wisely chose to concentrate on other matters.

~*~*~

The next day, Harry was surprised and bothered when Professor McGonagall informed him that the private gathering planned for the Founders' leaving was cancelled. He questioned his House Head as to the reason why, but McGonagall seemed as puzzled as he was.

As Harry, Hermione and Ron discussed what might possibly have happened, hope grew inside Harry. Perhaps the Founders were staying a little while longer. Surely, it wouldn't hurt for them to stay for a few more days. Weeks even, months, years All in agreement, the trio decided to go up to Wvelte and look for them.

A wondrous yet disturbing sight awaited them. Floating in the very center of the Wvelte's main hall was a large ghostly flickering model of a white castle set upon a huge shard of dark earth. It revolved slowly, gracefully turning around its axis. This was Hierthent, a familiar sight to Harry, Hermione and Ron, since for nearly a week, every newspaper and magazine had displayed a moving picture of the floating fortress now stationed over Malfoy Manor.

Hierthent. Harry had only learned about the floating fortress recently when Godric explained about it before he and the other Founders left Hogwarts on a quest for it. A thousand years ago, Hierthent had been the citadel of the Thirteen, an infamous Dark wizarding coalition of that era, but one which was virtually unknown in the present. The group had been completely destroyed by none other than Salazar Slytherin, who had been a former member of the Thirteen.

But the Thirteen's castle survived, and not only Hierthent. Ghosts haunted it. The Founders had explained about the circumstances that lead to Hierthent and the Thirteen being trapped in a dimension where an hour equaled a year passing in real time.

"A thousand years in forty days," Hermione had breathed out in wonder, her eyes gleaming with great curiosity and hope as she impulsively asked the Founders if it were possible to visit Hierthent.

The reactions from the Founders varied. Godric had been taken aback, surprise widening his eyes, but he recovered quickly to smile with amusement at this request. Rowena hadn't looked surprised, the expression on her face said she had expected this. Helga merely looked faintly disapproving.

A chuckling Salazar had said, "You will have to ask permission from the new owners." The new owners, Harry was uncomfortable to find out, were the Malfoys.

It was in all the news. A week ago, a huge castle had been seen floating, flying as fast as one of those Muggle jumbo jets (Hierthent was far larger and quieter). The white fortress was moving so quickly that Ministry wizards on broomsticks had been hard put to keep up with it. All attempts to board the castle or communicate with its denizens had failed. Panic spread as wizards and witches were convinced it must be You Know Who's citadel, and Ministry officials had had their work cut out for them in having to wipe the memories of the Muggles who had seen the UFO.

Fudge had given the order to attack and to destroy Hierthent, which resulted in the disappearance of the taskforce sent by the Ministry. Fear had reached a breaking point. Civil disorder had been imminent in the wizarding community when finally the castle simply stopped at Malfoy Manor.

The official story given to the Ministry and to all the reporters was that an archaeological expedition headed by Lucius Malfoy had succeeded in recovering Hierthent, considered as the mythical citadel of an equally legendary wizarding coalition known as the Thirteen. Explanations were made. They consisted of how Lady Julia Ilias had hidden the castle away in a different space for safekeeping after Salazar Slytherin had assassinated the Thirteen; of how Lucius Malfoy had been allowed entry into the castle because of his Ilias heritage and bloodline; and lastly of him meeting his many-times-great grandmother, still alive because the time peculiarity of the dimension Hierthent had been taken to.

Basically there were a few crucial differences between the official story and the truth. The Founders weren't mentioned, of course. Not even by their aliases, and Draco's part was excluded. Indeed, it would be difficult to explain why a Hogwarts student was involved, even if it was Draco Malfoy. He should be in school, not gallanvantering about with his parents on archaeological digs.

In any case, Hierthent was currently overrun by Ministry wizards, researchers, historians and curious onlookers. There was great excitement in the recovery of such an important piece of history and greater interest in the chairs. These chairs, thirteen of them, around what was referred to as the Table of the Thirteen located in Hierthent's Council Hall, were being awarded by Lucius Malfoy, who was said to be the new Head of the Thirteen.

Seven of the chairs were already given. Six remained to be assigned, and quickly, because Hierthent depended on the Thirteen and vice versa. There was talk of Fudge gone acourting for a place. This didn't surprise Harry, though he was startled when informed that Dumbledore might be offered a chair. Though this was welcome news, Harry doubted it would come to pass.

Why would Lucius Malfoy want Albus Dumbledore to become one of the Thirteen?

Harry eyed the three dimensional representation of Hierthent carefully and was startled when he saw tiny wizards and witches flying towards it on equally tiny broomsticks. As he watched, they landed on a wide green lawn that went around the castle's base. Harry peered closer at them. One of Hierthent's large double doors opened, and more people appeared. He almost jumped. One of the tiny figures was unmistakably Lucius Malfoy.

... This isn't just a model then, Harry realized, his eyes widening. We must be actually watching Hierthent.

"That is correct, Harry," said a soft voice behind him, and he, Hermione and Ron turned to see Rowena behind them. She was alone, and they quickly went to her and asked what had happened. Why was the meeting cancelled? Would they be staying?

Harry nearly whoop for joy when Rowena answered they would be staying. When they pressed her for details on how this change of decision came about, she simply answered that with the Thirteen present in this time (regardless of the fact that they were ghosts), she and the other Founders decided to stay until such a time when they felt that Hogwarts would no longer be in danger from their old foes and Hierthent's arsenal.

~*~*~

To be continued.

Writers eat reviews. So. Feeeeeed me. Thank you.

Many thanks to the lovely people who left reviews for Chapter 34: Hufflepuff on my HnH story board, FF.net and by email.
If you want email updates for HnH, please include your email address in your review and say that you want fic updates.

FF.net reviewers: Esther (I'm happy you really like it.), Nerual (Lucius will decide who gets the chairs.), annakas (::grins:: Wao - I like it.), Silverfox (Yes, I hear that a lot. ^^ And Salazar knows it too.), Mayleesa (Thanks ^^), InsaneVampireWriter (Will do.), Bob (Will hurry.), SilverCatofBast (Ok, will do.), Star Chaser (Helga is immune to Rowena's father's magic.), GAKED (You're making me blush. ^__^), Star* (I'm glad you think so.), Brooke (Thank you. ^^), Kayla (Godric still worries me.), Mary (They can do magic inside Hierthent. They can't do magic within sight of Hierthent. Though since the castle isn't at full power, they can magic outside as well.) & Dark Mistress aka Hoshiko Malfoy (Draco is adorable.)