Harry tested the strength of his legs by promptly leaping out of bed and landing on his feet. His legs buckled under him and he collapsed to the floor, sticking his wrists out to prevent him from hurting himself. Mrs. Promfrey stuck her hands on her hips and pursed her lips in disapproval, reminding Harry of Mrs. Weasley.
"Now, really, Mr. Potter. Are you really that foolish? You are weak, very weak. You cannot simply go jumping onto the floor like that! Use your brain!" Harry attempted to look sorry, but failed miserably. Poppy flicked her wand and Harry found himself being pushed back into the hospital bed and tied down by invisible cords. "Now, stay there!" Harry struggled against his bonds, but finally gave up (after having a short wheezing fit). He surrendered to the annoying household spell, but for a second, felt the ropes weaken. Harry shut his eyes and concentrated with every ounce of willpower he possessed. A strange, powerful feeling once again welled up behind his eyes.
'I guess the more powerful the magic I'm doing, the more of that odd feeling behind my eyes,' he reasoned. He pushed and pushed, and felt the bonds breaking string by string. He sensed that there was one small string holding everything together, and mentally pushed through it. It snapped, and he was free. Harry let out a shout of joy, and immediately regretted his mistake as Madam Promfrey came bustling out. She shrieked as she saw Harry half bent over on the bed, his fist in the air.
"Mr. Potter!" she screeched. "What are you doing? How did you sit up? Lie right back down there this instant." Harry wasn't in the mood for being reprimanded, and didn't want to have to go through all of that power before. He leapt up and thought Petrificus Totalus! and waved his hand at the stunned nurse, stiffening her body and only wincing slightly as she hit the floor with a sickening thud.
"Wow," he whispered. "This stuff is pretty cool."
Harry stumbled his way through the halls of Hogwarts before coming to the room of Requirement. He thought furiously, 'I need a place with a lot of books about natural magic." A green door appeared, and Harry pushed it open. It wasn't a library. It was another door. Harry tried Alohamora, but it didn't work.
"Open up," he said confidently. The door didn't budge. "Open up, please?" The door shrieked, and a tiny golden box appeared from nowhere. Mystified, Harry reached forward to touch the box. An invisible force grabbed his hand and began to tug ferociously. Harry gave a shout and tried to pull away, but the force was too strong. He could feel himself being sucked in, and he finally surrendered to the invisible, powerful force, thinking all the while, 'Oh god, help me." He closed his eyes and when he reopened them, found himself sitting in a plush, purple armchair. He looked around curiously to see various paintings of unrecognizable witches and wizards. A fireplace with bright flames sat in one wall with a beautiful statue of a Raven carved into the mantelpiece. Harry walked over to the statue and stroked its back tenderly. Somehow, and he didn't know how, it felt alive to him, though it was cool and hard to the touch.
"What are you doing?" Harry jumped around. A young woman stood there with a stern look upon her face. Her hair fell in long, dark waves down her back, and she wore strange looking robes that Harry thought he had once seen in an antique store in Diagon Alley. She looked familiar, but Harry couldn't quite place it.
"Who are you?" he asked her. The woman stared a him, then whipped out a wand and pointed it at Harry with such speed that he didn't have time to react. He was swund back into the chair and once again (to his annoyance) tied there with invisible bonds. He somehow didn't think he should try to escape. The woman pocketed her wand and strolled over to Harry in an elegant, proud way.
"I asked you first," she said. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
"Ha-Harry Potter," he finally said. The woman's expression didn't change.
"So?" she replied. "I find it hard to believe that you are so unintelligent that you cannot answer a simply question. Now, again, what are you doing here?" Harry gave her a stare. She reminded him so much of Dumbledore, it was almost as if they were related.
"I thought this was the Room of Requirement," Harry said truthfully. The woman growled.
"Next floor up, kid. Merlin, Godric would always come here by mistake! It's so irritating!" Harry gaped at her.
"Who would name their kid Godric?" he asked faintly. "It's condemning them to a life of ridicule and comparisons." The woman laughed.
"Who would he be compared to?" she giggled. "His mom made up that name. I believe he's the only one with it since before Merlin." Harry was appalled. Surely someone who spoke with a voice that suggested such cleverness was not that oblivious.
"Um, ma'am, what about Godric Gryffindor?"
"Young, Harry, Godric is Godric Gryffindor. One of my best friends, too," she added with a smile upon her face. "What, what's wrong?"
"Then, then who are you?" Harry choked.
"Why, I'm Rowena Ravenclaw."
"What?" Harry said, cupping his hand over his ear and straining. "What are you talking about? She's been dead for thousands of years!" The woman gave an impatient huff and looked at Harry curiously.
"Potter, I'm right here! I am not dead! Surely you are not that stupid to doubt your eyes!" Harry reached for his wand, and then remembered that it wasn't there and he didn't need it.
"Usually I do doubt my eyes. In case you haven't noticed with your eyes, I have glasses and 20/470 vision. I'm like an old dog."
"Dogs aren't very smart," the woman commented dryly. "You don't look dumb, unless your brain is secretly as bad as your eyes. In case you're wondering, I did notice the glasses," she added with a wink. "I don't miss much."
This woman was a stranger, and yet, for some reason, Harry felt relaxed and at ease. He only felt this comfortable with Ron and Hermione, and even with them it took a few months to develop their special closeness. Harry lowered his hand, then hoping to catch the lady off guard, flicked it at her and muttered, "Veritos." She gasped and helf her hand to her heart, and slumped onto the floor. Harry caught her before she fell, and stared deeply into her eyes. They were a bright emerald green and the irises were rolled back into her head, the immediate effects of Veritos. Harry rather liked the nifty little spell. It was exactly like Veritaserum, except no rat blood was needed, something that Harry enjoyed, as he hated Potions.
"Who are you?" he demanded with force, though in a kind voice.
"Rowena Ravenclaw," came the dull reply.
"What year is this?"
"What is a year?" Harry shook his head in amazement, still not quite ready to believe the woman. She's been dead for three thousand years!
"Where are you and why are you here?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here with Godric, Helga, and Salazar because we run the school." He dropped her onto the floor and placed a shaking head to his forehead. No, he wasn't hallucinating. This was real. But how could he go back in time without knowing or feeling anything? Harry heard a rustling behing him. Rowena was stirring. She opened her eyes, took in her surroundings in anger, and wordlessly stunned Harry who fell to the floor just as a tall man with black hair came sprinting into the room.