xx Torn Rose of Ages Past xx
(Li)
vv Chapter Two: New Age of Secrets vv
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though the OCs are mine...
Summary: -AU- In a distant age where theSoulless rule and those who practice the Light and protect the Hogwarts House Heirs are hunted like Muggle animals, one House protector is sent to the past to save the life of a long-dead Ravenclaw Heiress... At the moment she is confronted by Dumbledore about abruptly appearing and explains a few things...
Hogwart's Hospital Wing, August 11, 1996 - 3:45 PM
An old wizard-looking man sat stroking his long bearded, standing never to the slumbering form of Tora, the mysterious girl who'd almost choked the Sorting Hat. And when asked, said Hat replied that a personal message from his future self had been sent, along with a warning not to harm the girl. But what if she harmed them?
Blue eyes deep in thought, Dumbledore stepped aside for Madam Pomfrey to take a look at the girl's still form. She'd slept for three days, and from what she'd said before promptly fainting, she would awake soon. Poppy had to agree with the Headmaster's deduction; her heart rate and breath status were changing from the peaceful, easy rhythm when she'd check the other days.
The head of Hogwart's Hospital Wing was the only one save Dumbledore who knew of the girl, though a few Professors had come asking to see the Headmaster when he was 'in a meeting', which they thought meant buying more lemon drops. Really, he needed a refill, but the girl was -inward wince- more important than his sweet addiction.
She could be a threat to Hogwarts and it's students, if he thought she was what she seemed to be... And that marking...
Madam Pomfrey was quite surprised as the girl began to twitch, face crinkling as the strange girl awoke full with a yawn and curious glance at the two staring with the exposed molten-gold eye. Yawning a second time, the youth struggled to sit up (Poppy was too stunned, staring at Tora's eye in disbelief, to protest), letting her midnight blue cloak fall from her shoulders in the possess.
Dumbledore had never seen such clothes, even on Muggle television. Tight black rare dragon hide black top, her important show-offy parts covered in a faded dark navy vestwith many needed pockets, embraced her slim figure, and would have accented her womanly form if she wasn't so underfed. Loose silky canvas pants flowing around her like a semi-tight skirt, each knee secured with a dark blue hoister slightly darker than her hair -wand hold on the left, unremarkable dagger on the right.
What caught his attention most, however, was the choker she wore and the necklace secured by a thin strip of black hide hanging loosely down her front. The crescent moon necklacewith that unusual stonewas a demon heir's birth-gift, the 5-point-star choker charged with Light energy so much he thought it couldn't contain anymore, yet it still gathered needed energy from the magical pathways around her.
Tora just raised an eyebrow at his examination, the unnerving way she pierced his careful mask reminding him of the Unspeakable Silvana, who'd once spied on the Ministry for the Order, though she wasn't an official member. It could be possible that they were related, since only one demon Clan he knew of produced that kind of hair.
"Lord Albus."
That caught his attention. No one had called him Lord Albus in a long while, not since he'd refused the Minister position and became Headmaster of the school. But, ah! It brought back so many memories.
"Lord Albus, I know you must have many questions, but first I must tell you what I cannot answer. I know you'll understand, even if your nurse friend doesn't seem to think so." This lasted ended in her trying to hide a chuckle as she tilted her head slightly to the side, indicating to look.
He did. Madam Pomfrey was fuming for some unknown reason, most likely that a patient with such wounds -new and old- was moving without her permission.
"My Lady Poppy, there is nothing to worry about. In the future, from where I come, these wounds would not even earn me medical help. There are so many suffering from the evil Darkness..." She trailed off, sadness eclipsing her cloudy near-amber eyes as she turned to the Headmaster. "As for what I have for you..."
He hadn't seen the pouch connected to her leather-clad waist until she reached into it and pulled out a worn letter. The paper had obviously gone through much trouble, even more so for the girl. He mourned the loss of youth these children of the future must have, to send much a young one to do an (seemingly) important task.
Then again, he thought she was a demon; you never could tell with them, since hardly any showed their true age, and the ones that did usually cut it down by at least half.
Dumbledore would have pocketed the letter address to him in an unfamiliar handwriting and read it in his office if Tora hadn't warned him before you would say 'lemon drop'. "Do not open that before the start of the current sixth year's seventh year; there is much riding on my coming here. If you do, you'll do something that caused our future to become even worse..."
The Headmaster just nodded, and turned to dismiss Madam Pomfrey so they could move on to more interesting subjects. What he found was an empty space and muttering farther away about insufferable wizards and important missions. Poppy had left earlier in the conversation, and the old man's surprised look made the youth chuckle.
Looking slightly embarrassed, the pink tint to his cheeks soon faded as he decided to ask a serious, important question he needed to know the answer to.
"Does Voldemort rule in your future?" Dumbledore asked cautiously, not sure how to ask. On the outside he was as calm as ever, but inwardly he shifted nervously, awaiting her affirmative answer.
Instead, the Headmaster was surprised when Tora laughed out right, whipping an imaginary tear from her eye. Seeing his concerned gaze, knowing he must think her mad to find humor in such a thing, but he didn't know what she did.
Sitting up from where she'd fallen, the youth answered, "No, he's long dead." A pause, and Albus sighed in relief. Tora smiled humorlessly, though with an ironic twist to it. "You are scared of the anger, pain and hatred Lord Voldemort represents. I fear what he will unleash!"
Deciding not to press the issue for fear of her clamming up, though his confusion evident to the molten eyed girl, Dumbledore processed the information and began to try and decipher what she meant by it. Her sigh only managed to startle him out of his thoughts a second later, not even close to a conclusion.
'Something to ponder on a rainy day,' he thought to himself, turning to the laying youth.
"Anything more to ask, Lord Albus?" her voice was flat, and though she'd gotten more than enough sleep, she was obviously tired.
"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" he asked in turned, smiling at her. Tora returned the conniving man's smile, waved a little to him, then answered through a yawn, "There is."
"Oh, yes?" he asked, waiting for more puzzling news.
He saw the glint in her eye too late as he realizes he'd been tricked. Smirking behind her yawn, Tora stated to the old man, "G'night, Albus."
The Hogwart's Headmaster just chuckled and smiled before patting the girl on the head before she fell back in a faint. "Good night, mystery-girl."
He started toward the door, only to be stopped by a small noise of protest. Turning to the sleeping figure, he didn't see her moving in a nightmare so what could it have been?
"Name's Tornaroes, my Lord. Call me Tora." The murmur was just loud enough to be heard by him at his distance yet quiet enough to sound lower than a whisper.
"Good night, then, Miss Tora."
Traveling down the halls to his office and a mountain of new-term paper work, Dumbledore mused, 'Tornaroes... Such an odd name, but it suits such an odd girl. And Tora, the name for tiger... a powerful beast... What is she here for, this Torn Rose, I wonder?'
Patting his pocket, he realized something: his lemon drop case was gone. The girl had taken it when he was close... Smiling to himself, he thanked Merlin he had extra boxes.
Yes, the boxes. That room hidden behind the Black former Headmaster's painting was full of lemon drops. He'd forgotten about them; and now he wouldn't have to shop for his favorite sweets ever again! That's why he always offered them to others... he had so many, he might as well share his unlimited supply.
Smiling mysteriously to himself, Dumbledore walked past the jumping gargoyle and into his office of never-ending lemon drops and paper work. Yes, this was definitely going to be an interesting year...
Guestroom Corridor, August 14, 1996 - 12:36 PM
The guest rooms, contrary to what you might think, were not anywhere near the teacher's apartments. They were located on the other side of the school, actually, and the hall they branched from was no more interesting than any other, save the unremarkable collection of portraits now staring at the two persons standingin front ofa harem of angel-like beingspainting thatgiggled.
Dumbledore stood with Tornaroes outside her new courters, the girl glancing around herself with an underlying sadness to her visible eye She hadn't seen Hogwarts intact and without the aura of so many deathes that had taken place, even after so many years their screams and agonyhad still there.
Seeing the haunted look in her eye, Dumbledore immediately distracted her. "The password is Zamatrisma Demetress." Tora glanced his way warily. What he'd just said was an old Clan password belonging to her deceased mother, something no one but a close friend of relative would know.
"Did you know Vantressa?" she asked cautiously, not sure if he knew what he was implying.
The Headmaster just smiled at her with that damn twinkle in his blue eyes, something that signaled he would be subtle and dance around the subject while trying to keep you guessing. Tora would have none of it.
His answer surprised her even more. This younger version of the man she served wasn't supposed to know any of her history yet, damn it!
"No. I have an Unspeakable friend named Silvana. She often spoke of her sister before disappearing some years ago." A pause, leaving Tora silently fuming. "There are much likenesses between you two, I must say. Were you related in some way?"
'As if you don't know, old fool. I won't give you the satisfaction of admitting what you want to confirm.'
Faking innocence to even fool her boss, the older Dumbledore, was something she was quite good at. So the youth just blinked a couple times, the silken black strip of clothe covering her left eye fluttering slightly, and smiled sheepishly.
"No, I don't think so... I haven't seen many people apart from my younger brother, " here he looked skeptical, and Tora inwardly laughed. More like an annoying ward who wanted to know everything than a brother, "and some of the other messengers. Your future self, of course; oh, and sometimes the Soulless..."
"Soulless...?" Dumbledore subtly prompted as she trailed off. The girl's eye filled with tears that threatened to brake loose, the black over her unseeing eye dampening slightly.
Seeing her reaction, the Headmaster was immediately alarmed. Could it be that the girl had no idea what she seemed to be and wasn't as war-hardened as he'd thought? "Is something the matter, Mrs. Tora?" His concern sounded sincere enough.
Nodding shakily, the youth just sighed outright. No use wasting time; she needed sleep. "Y-yes, Lord Albus. Just... Most of my friends died to the Soulless, what you would call Death Eaters, but mine aren't... exactly human anymore..."
Sniffing for effect, Tora murmured the password to her room and backed away as the portrait swung open. "I'll talk more tomorrow, Headmaster. I still need to rest..."
"Goodnight, then, Mrs. Tora." He had many things to ponder...
"Goodnight, Lord Albus." She entered the room and the old man began to leave.
"Oh, and Lord Albus?"
"Yes?"
She smiled a twinkle of her own in that unnerving near-amber gaze. "Don't open the letter. It's important for the year-future you to know what will happen that year, not before. Trust me one this, m'lord. You don't want to know yet."
Dumbledore just nodded and smiled, wondering how she knew his intentions. Then again, Tora could know him quite well in the future; something more to ponder on a rainy day...
Chuckling to herself, Tora shouted after him, "All you need to warn Harry Potter about is to not loose his temper that often! If he does, the whole school's in for a surprise!" The painting was shut, leaving a stunned Headmaster to think.
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was still alive in her time? That was reassuring...
Walking to his office, he didn't notice someone who shouldn't have heard scurry away... He had something to tell his Lord, at last...
Hogwarts Ruins, Tora's future, December 1, 20xx - 0:00 AM
He'd been searching and searching for her, wondering where she could have gone. He knew she wasn't dead; she could survive much more than spells, enchantments and natural disasters easily. She could be hurt, but he knew she'd come here as she'd told him before she'd went.
Sighing to himself, a dark haired man of twenty-one stood amongst the rumble of Howarts' once-Charms room, searching for someone worriedly. Snow colored white the deserted land around him, glowing with an otherworldly light he just ignored. With all that was happening around him, you'd think the oblivious boy would notice something...
The halls around him, once pieces, now became whole. The snow receded as if it had never been there in the first place as he entered the deserted, still-intact hall before the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. Immediatelyit jumped away, and for some strange reason, he didn't feel the chill he normally had...
It had become a habit to knock on the Headmaster's door, even if no one save the occasional Protector dared venture into the dusty office, and to his surprise, the all-too-familiar voice of Dumbledore answered. The old man hadn't left head courters in years, so how could he...
It hit the dark haired man suddenly, and a rueful smile over took his face. For all his obliviousness to what happened around him most of the time, he could process startling information and come up with a suitable answer within seconds. It was that trait he used at the moment, knowing exactly were his good friend Tora had gone.
Tornaroes had changed to past to a better future.
Smiling to himself, the reincarnated Heir of Slytherin opened the door only to be greeted by his teacher and amuch changed guardian...
A/N: Hoped you liked it, at least a little. And I got one review! Thank you, Perilous. I'll be gone for a while (9th to 17th), sorry. I won't have a computer to write at, but I'll try and have another chapter up around then.
Li