4. Too Many Godrics.
Salazar! They were talking to the founder of Slytherin house! Harry was the first to recover his tongue. "Most pleased, sir. I am Harry, son of James."
"And I am Hermione, called the Reader."
"And Ronald the..er, Burrower."
Salazar bowed in greeting. "You spoke strangely when I was approaching; now I understand your words, but they do not match your lips. The Reader's charm is my confusion, no doubt!"
"We speak with the tongue of our homeland across the sea, sir," said Hermione. "Forgive our need for a charm."
"The countryside has been nattering about your progress for two days. There are tales of a magic gate of sorts at the Witching Walk.... have you come to us through the gate from the wizards of the Indies, perhaps, or the holy men of the West?"
He doesn't know what the gate does, thought Hermione. "Not any of those, sir; we did not use the gate. We merely come from Meath, in Eireinn, that I might see the great magic library here. We lingered along our journey to admire the gateway, hoping to find clues to its alleged powers. We saw nothing but stone, and no inscriptions to help us, so we continued on our way."
"We will see the Headmaster," said Salazar, "and no doubt the library will be open to a visiting magician. Harry, was it? Your hat and white owl are most curious. Before your arrival, one odd report had you conversing with your hat."
Harry decided to tell a little, but not everything. "The hat is a very old hand-me-down in our family, and I am proud to wear it. It is enchanted to speak a bit, and sing, but its mere age has not made it any more wise."
"Fascinating! I look forward to talking to him. Only days ago, we enchanted our Headmaster's hat for a special need we have; pardon me if I do not explain. Such an heirloom as your hat deserves your special care! I will have our tanner give you a leather tonic that will do it proud."
"Thank you, sir."
"And does the owl hunt game for you, as though a falcon?"
"The owl is my pet. She hunts for herself only. However, she can follow some commands."
"Really?" said Salazar.
"Oh, wise owl!" addressed Harry. "Fly to that tower and perch. Then, return to my other shoulder."
Hedwig took to the air, paused on the tower ledge, then started back. Harry removed his hat to ensure a choice of perches, and Hedwig picked the opposite side as instructed, to the amazement of Salazar.
"You are quite the trainer! With your powers to command, you would do well in Slytherin."
"So I've been told -- but we have come only to guide and forage for the Reader. Ronald and I are poor sons of non-magic folk." That should turn him off, thought Harry.
"Ah! The Fates are cruel. Well, come with me; I will introduce you to Headmaster Godric."
* * *
They were brought to the new construction area, where Godric was observing. Their meeting had the three time-wanderers in awe. He was tall (and quite handsome, noted Hermione), with piercing green eyes, long black hair just starting to turn gray, his beard neatly cut. He was not wearing his famous hat. The intelligent and well-spoken Godric bade them welcome as equals, asked his staff to prepare a room for their stay, and arranged for the Reader to have full access to the library.
* * *
They sat down to a late-afternoon outdoor meal with Godric and the entire teaching staff, including an opportunity to meet the other co-founders. Rowena was tall and intellectual, while Helga was short, alert and athletic; they made quite the comedy team when they got together, and were enjoyable dinner companions.
They had many questions for Hermione about the progress of wizarding in Meath. Hermione pleaded exhaustion from the trip, and said she would be glad to tell them everything in a day or so. However, she explained the Lingus charm, which they found a delightful tool. H'ajij of Jericho, the Charms teacher, tested it by speaking in Aramaic, yet they all understood him.
As dinner ended, various magical matters were discussed. Discovering their ignorance of owling, Ron suggested owls could be trained to carry messages, and Harry demonstrated Hedwig's ability to carry a message to Rowena, to much amazement.
While he had the floor again, Ron chanced asking where the students were. The staff seemed quite surprised he would ask, and said they were home, of course! It was harvest time, and they must help their families! "Oh... of course," said Ron, and he shut up, feeling he was out of their league.
"And what say your diviners, Reader?" asked H'ajij. "Do they see the outcome of all the invasions and kingly rivalries here?"
Hermione flipped through her mental history chart. "This will be a safe place for your school. Our seers say the five parts of Scot-land will eventually become one. Know that the south will unite under the Normans in Our Lord's year 1066. In time, they foretell, even our proud Eire-land will be brought low."
"Do they foresee unity for all wizardry?" asked Salazar. "And, which families will be the nobles to rule our magic world?"
Hermione took on an all-too-familiar look, like she was considering the joy of punching Salazar in the mouth, so Harry took it. "In our land, sir, no one is considered to be better suited to rule just because of their blood. They say those who believe otherwise will always fail."
Some of the teachers were amused at Salazar's discomfort. He stared at Harry, smiling artificially. "When has the non-magic world ever been without leaders by blood lines? And if that is not the answer, then what other great force is there, to bring the magicians of the world together?"
Ron smiled, and answered, "The Quidditch game, forsooth." That drew a lot of blank looks and whispers -- and one or two knowing nods.
Harry expanded on that, noting that friendly competition at sports could bring distant groups from far apart together, as at kingly tournaments, and foretold the popularity of the game now being created at Queerditch Marsh. He offered another demonstration, their facility with flying in competition.
Two rather large barn-brooms used in local transport were offered, and Ron and Harry took to the sky. Harry found it miserably slow, clumsy and very uncomfortable, but it reacted well on his turns, climbs and dives. Ron threw a scrap of wood as high as he could; without the help of his eyeglasses, Harry snagged it in midair and threw it to Ron, who threw it back to him. The staff was suitably impressed.
As they landed, the bell of the little church in Hogsmeade began to ring the curfew. Godric noticed the lengthening shadows and called an end to the session.
Hermione, rising from the bench, overheard Godric addressing Salazar.
"Salazar, will you give the hat your instruction now, and return it to me by the Nones tomorrow?"
"Gladly, Headmaster," replied Salazar.
* * *
They walked to the lake to sit by themselves, munching more chocolate from the rations.
"Forsooth, Ron?" said Harry, chuckling.
"Oh, cut me some slack, Harry! You two were raised by Muggles and got to read all this King Arthur stuff. I don't know how to talk that way."
"Relax, Ron, you don't have to," reminded Hermione. "The Lingus charm does most of that. I'm talking a little stiffly, just to be sure we get the right message across the translation."
Hermione divulged what she heard at the end of the meal, which upset Ron. "They're letting that nutter Salazar spout his pureblood nonsense to the hat. After sitting through hours of that trash, no wonder our hat always looks wilted."
The hat might have answered him, but was preoccupied. "I cannot believe what I am dimly sensing. Too many Godrics."
"I thought we did this already," protested Harry. "You, Godric and his hat. That make three of you."
"I know. But, I suddenly sense four Godrics."
"Four??"
The hat sagged in a glum sort of look. "Listen carefully, Harry. Let's prepare ourselves. There may be a plot afoot!
"You know the password to Dumbledore's office; keep it to yourself. If you ask me the password, I'll give you the proper answer only when you and I are alone, Harry -- remember that. Any other time, when we're not alone, I will say Popinjay instead. Understand?"
"Popinjay when we're not alone -- the other, only when we're alone. Okay, I understand."
"That's my wizard! Be sharp. Mind what you say and do. Something very odd is happening.... too many Godrics. "
* * *
They returned to their quarters after sundown, encountering only the school's tanner, who wanted to deliver the promised tonic for Harry's hat -- a vial of leather polish, and a piece of hide for buffing. He also proffered some spare grain mash to feed the owl.
Hermione retired to a side room for some much-needed sleep. Having little to do but chat with Ron in the dim candlelight before bedtime, Harry took out the bottle, pulled the willow stopper and began applying the tanner's tonic. Indeed, the hat took on a wonderful glow... in more ways than one.
"Wow!" said the hat. "What's in that stuff?"
"Beeswax, I'm told," said Harry, "and some other ingredients to soften and shine. I'll put on one more coat. It seems to go on fairly smoothly."
"Smoothly, yeah. Definitely SMOOOOOTH! I want the recipe. Dumbledore's got to mix me up some of this! I'm softened and shined, all right. I like this! Puts th' buff in yer leather and th' shine in yer boots. Whoooo!"
"Yeah, I'll bet he loves it," Ron laughed.
"Why do you say that?" asked Harry.
"Can't you tell?"
"Tell what?"
"Harry, you Muggle, the ruddy hat's sozzled!"
"Sozzled?"
"WHOOOOOO!" said the hat. "Another coat, Harry, old boy, before you... shelve that. Jus' ...one more... coat... or two. Gooooood stuff. WHOOOOOOOOO!"
"Oh," said Harry.
"Jus' one more li'l coat, for old time's zake, mate!"
"I don't think so...mate."
"U'll even zing a zortin' zong for you. Name a... name a year. Zing wu'll zing a song. Tell howl jokes. Owl jokes. Wadduz a scottish owl say. Say.. hoot, mon! Heeheehee. Owls.... WHOOOOHOOOOO!"
To make matters worse, the hat had company.
"HOOOOO!" echoed Hedwig, who also seemed happy.... in fact, thrilled that the grain mash in her dinner had aged so well. She, too, was enjoying the 11th century.
"Embarrassing. Really embarrassing," said Harry, taking away their potent goodies.
* * *
"Thoroughly embarrassing."
"...wake me tomorrow morning... very quietly..." said the hat.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," said Harry, "it is tomorrow morning. No days off. Blame me, if you'd like, for overdoing the polish last night. Sorry. And as for you, Hedwig, I'm surprised at you!"
"..ook..." mumbled Hedwig, her head hung low at a strange angle.
Hermione tsk-tsked at their situation, then went to examine the small but astonishing school library.
Out of necessity and a bit of guilt, Harry went to the tanner. Naturally, the tanner had never heard of any leather object suffering from a hangover, and directed him to Salazar, the potions expert, as most likely to have a cure.
When Harry located him in his dungeon quarters, Salazar said he could relieve the hat's problem, if he could just borrow it until mid-day.
Harry went back to consult with Ron, the hat's official guardian; they decided to take a reluctant chance on letting the hat out of their sight, after removing the very uncommon safety pin and telling the hat to reveal nothing. The hat was in no mood to argue, and was delivered to the dungeon.
Hedwig, though, would have to rough it out. While Ron went beyond Hogsmeade to fetch fresh spring water, Harry spent the rest of the morning with Hedwig, preening her gently and feeding her bits of decent modern food from the rations. He could tell Hedwig just wanted some quiet, loving sympathetic company until she recovered.
* * *
By mid-day, things were improving. Ron returned, and Hedwig felt well enough to leave for some exercise and fresh air. Then, a familiar voice returned, in Salazar's hands. "Well! After that, I much prefer being a hat, and letting other people wear the head!"
"Again, I apologise," said Harry. "Who could have predicted that a talking hat could be over-polished? And thank you, Professor, it sounds normal again."
"Very interesting effect!" replied Salazar. "I was curious to converse, but he wasn't very talkative in his... ah, current state. We must remember not to polish the Headmaster's hat! How unusual, isn't it, we should suddenly have two enchanted hats here -- yours and the Headmaster's."
"Odd coincidence, that," said Harry, happy that the hat had returned without disclosing anything. Salazar left shortly after, and Harry restored the safety pin on the brim.
"So," said Ron to the hat, "did you have a nice time drying out? And did Salazar give you the pureblood lecture?"
"He had a lot to say about that. Some of it sounded perfectly logical...."
"Maybe," said Harry,"but it's the part that's not logical that hurts. At least you're out of there."
"It's strange, with all these Godrics..."
"Here we go again. You're still sensing four Godrics, right?"
"No..."
"Hmmm! That's an improvement."
"Not really. Now I sense five."
Harry stopped in his tracks. Five Godrics? Something very odd.... too many Godrics.....
Then it hit him like a bludger. Harry turned very red, and wished he could hide somewhere.
"Oh, no.... now I've done it. Now I've really done it! How stupid of me!"
"It can't get much worse than it did last night, " said Ron, "or can it?"
"It's bad. I think Salazar has taken the opportunity to duplicate our hat!"
"WHAT?"
Harry held his head in misery. "The Godric count just went up to five. That would explain why the fourth one appeared yesterday. Why didn't I see it then?
"Ron, when we arrived, there were three Godrics, remember? Then Salazar had Godric's new talking hat overnight, to tell it what kind of student should be in Slytherin house. I'm guessing he duplicated it then, and suddenly there were four Godrics.
"With that, he has all the time in the world to train that duplicate as a Sorting Hat that favours his house -- like putting all the purebloods in Slytherin, and putting the other First Years in houses that are inappropriate. Then he can swap the identical hats, destroy the real Godric hat, and his hat will be in charge! Over time, any purebloods will be turned into Slytherin nodders, and then ... well, you can imagine the rest.
"Well, today he had our hat for a few hours, and suddenly there are five Godrics. Remember who recommended the leather polish? He did! For all we know, it was a potion he formulated to harm the hat's health, hoping we'd turn to him for help! He wants to know what our hat knows. If his copy has the same memories, and he makes it talk, he'll know all about us... and much more than we'd like him to know about the next thousand years. He could undermine Hogwarts and the whole magic world!"
Ron nodded. "Uh...yeah, that, and... well, maybe this is a bad time to ask, Harry, but -- how do we know this is our real hat? Or could it be the duplicate?"
Harry slumped. He had no answer, and was kicking himself. How could I have been so stupid to put us in this situation!
"Let's get Hermione, straightaway. And don't let me lose this hat!"
