Disclaimer: Even though I'm sure you think that I came up with the Harry Potter characters, I didn't.

The Silver Horn

Chapter 4

Harry Potter sat straight up in his bed, disoriented, heart-pounding furiously. As he sank back onto the mattress, the image of his purple-faced uncle, fist raised, flashed through his mind. He groaned softly, cold sweat dripping off his face.

Harry sat back up again as he heard footsteps pounding in the hallway. He turned to see the Four Founders running towards him worriedly. He moaned, then covered his face with his hands.

"Harry! Are you alright?" asked Rowena, looking into his face intently.

"Did I scream? I'm sorry for waking you up," he mumbled, "You can go back to sleep again. Just a nightmare."

Godric put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's alright, Harry. You didn't scream. We're all just light sleepers and woke to hear you rolling around in bed."

"What was your dream about?" Helga questioned. She frowned as Harry replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"It obviously wasn't nothing," Salazar drawled, "if it made you wake up drenched in sweat."

Harry looked at his hands. "My uncle," he whispered. "Like I said, just a bad dream. At least it wasn't Voldemort."

Four pairs of eyes met simultaneously over the boy's bowed head. They communicated silent agreement to protect the boy from everything, though their hearts realized it wasn't possible.

"You aren't connected to Voldemort here, so no visions," Helga answered in a more cheerful tone.

Harry looked relieved, then murmured, "I'm sorry for waking you all up."

"For Merlin's sake," Salazar said sharply, "do you have to be so arrogant as to blame everything bad that happens on yourself?"

Harry's head snapped up; his eyes looked startled. Godric stifled a snort of laughter, tried to change it into a cough, and ended up choking. Salazar pounded him on the back while giving him a death glare.

"Maybe you should all go to sleep," Harry suggested, trying to steer the conversation away from him. "I'm kind of tired too."

Rowena looked at him suspiciously. His haunted eyes clearly stated that he wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon.

"Harry," Godric said, catching Rowena's surreptitious glance, "it's 6 o'clock already. Do you want to go downstairs to eat an early breakfast? We all usually wake up early anyways, and I'm sure you won't sleep a wink after this."

The black-haired boy hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Godric clapped his hands, grinning. "Tell the house elves to make breakfast."

As the group trooped from Harry's room, Salazar muttered, "Must you always be so bloody cheerful, Griffindor?"

Harry felt like he was in heaven. He hadn't eaten well since the Hogwarts graduation feast. Each bite was a mouth-watering, scrumptious, juicy delight. He gobbled up the food voraciously, while the Founders watched him with amusement.

"Hungry, Harry?" Godric asked with twinkling eyes.

Harry paused, the fork halfway to his mouth, and gulped visibly as he glimpsed the eyes looking at him.

"Heh…sorry," he muttered. He ate a lot more slowly after that.

After Harry finally put down his fork, questions started to sprout in his mind. But right as he opened his mouth to speak, Helga said, smiling, "I suppose you have some questions to ask, Harry. Well, ask away."

Everyone grinned at his startled expression.

"Yeah, umm…" Harry stuttered. "Why do I have to train with you guys anyway? And how were you able to take me to your time?"

"Have you heard of the three Fate sisters?" Rowena asked.

Harry thought for a moment and remembered a shadow of the knowledge from a certain ghost of a professor. Something to do with the controlling of time. He nodded slowly. "A little."

"Well, they could see that if Voldemort defeated you, the world would die, so they had to make sure that you would have a chance in defeating him. That's where we come into the picture," Godric smiled.

"We're really spirits," Rowena said. "The Fates allowed us to take a solid form only when we take you into our time. They thought we would be the best mentors for you."

"Bunch of crazy old women," Salazar muttered.

Godric grinned, "I totally agree. But anyways, here we are!"

Harry looked stunned. He still couldn't process it all.

Taking one look at his confused face, Helga said kindly, "Don't try to understand it, Harry. Just know that we're here to help you."

Harry nodded. His face brightened somewhat. For the first time after he heard the Prophecy, he felt he actually had a chance in defeating Voldemort. "So what exactly are you going to train me in?"

"You are so going to love this!" Rowena said excitedly. Harry raised an eyebrow at the obvious out of character display from the witch.

Godric rolled his eyes, "Don't listen to her, she's a nut whenever it comes to learning."

Harry smiled, amused.

"Rowena will be teaching Transfiguration, History, and Animagus training," Godric grinned as Harry suddenly straightened. "Yes, thought you might like that one."

"Helga will teach you Herbology, Charms, and Healing," Godric continued. "Salazar—potions, occulemency, and Dark Arts."

"Not how to do Dark Arts, Snape," Salazar snapped, after seeing Harry's look of alarm, "but how to cast spells under the Unforgivables."

The boy looked slightly relieved. He suddenly widened his eyes in surprise at what the wizard had called him, then looked resigned.

Godric smiled slightly at him. "And I will be teaching you some wandless magic and Defense,"—here he cackled evilly—"which includes physical training."

"Oh joy," Harry muttered sarcastically, "I'm going to have such a fun time."

"I know!" Rowena exclaimed. "Isn't it exciting?"

This time, all the other three Founders rolled their eyes.

"So Harry," Helga asked, "Any other questions?"

"A couple, if that's alright," Harry answered. "This isn't my real appearance, is it?"

"No," Godric replied, searching Harry's face.

"I thought not," Harry said haltingly, "Is there any way to reveal what I really look like?"

The Four Founders looked surprised.

"I don't want to live a lie," Harry explained with conviction. "And," he added smiling, "at least I'll have a year to get used to it."

Salazar nodded approvingly. "Well, normally it would be hard to remove the charms before the caster meant for it to be removed."

Harry's face fell.

"But," Salazar said, "since Helga is such a master at Charms"—Helga blushed—"I'm sure it will be no problem."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Helga asked, looking at Harry intently. "There is some pain involved, more pain than if you would let the charms lift naturally."

Harry nodded his head slowly, and closed his eyes in anticipation.

"Well, here goes," Helga said a spell, and the dining room cleared, becoming empty. "Veritas Revelo!" she cried, waving her wand.

Harry felt spasms of pain enter his body. He gritted his teeth as he felt his bones stretching and rearranging themselves. He had to muffle a yelp when he felt a pressure on the back of his eyes. Finally, the pain ceased.

He heard someone whisper an incantation, then a soft thump. He opened his eyes to see only a blur. He took off his glasses to wipe them clean, but realized he could see perfectly without them.

"Bad eyes must run in the Potter family," he thought.

There was a full-length mirror in front of him. He peered into the mirror with some suspense and stared.

His hair was now soft and pure black, instead of the messy dark brown mess it had been before. His cheekbones were slightly higher and sharper, and his complexion was pale. There was no doubt he looked like a certain Potion Master. His nose was still Lily's, thank goodness. He looked down at his hands and noticed his fingers were long and slender. Then, he realized the he was higher off the ground than he used to be. He stared at the mirror in shock. He was now about 5 foot eleven, maybe even as tall as Ron. The most interesting part, though, was his eyes. While they had been an earthy green before, they were now extremely bright. An image of a bright green light shooting towards him flashed before him.

"The killing curse," he thought, somewhat disturbed. "My eyes are the color of the killing curse."

"Harry," Rowena said excitedly, "turn around!"

Harry turned. The others stepped back, startled, as they noticed his eyes.

"Cool eyes," Godric marveled.

A smile slowly spread across Harry's face as a thought registered in his mind. "I look nothing like Harry Potter," he said, stopping as he heard the sound of his voice. It was silkier, softer, and somewhat hypnotizing.

The Founders looked puzzled. They had thought he would be angry with looking like Severus Snape.

"You don't understand," Harry said, grinning. "I can now walk in the streets without being gawked at. I felt like a specimen before." He made a face.

Then he frowned. "Except for my scar. Is there a way to hide it? It would be great to be normal for once, even if it is until Hogwarts."

Helga smiled understandingly at him. "There is a spell you can use that escapes both physical and magical detection. I can show you how to cast it and remove it in one of your lessons if you want."

"Brilliant!" Harry shouted excitedly. "Thanks, err…Professor?" He wasn't sure yet what to call his mentors. Their first names seemed too disrespectful and Miss Hufflepuff was too stuffy.

"Professor's fine, Harry," Helga nodded, "since we're to be your teachers anyway."

"You look great," Godric said, laughing. "Except your skin's too pale." He smiled wickedly at him. "That can be fixed though. You'll be as brown as mud once you're through with me."

"Nice analogy," Salazar noted with the tilt of an eyebrow.

Harry groaned.