A/N: Here's an earlier-than-normal update to give you some answers and provide more questions.

Anything you recognize (plot, characters, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling. Everything else is mine.

Please read, enjoy, and review. Big stuff happens here.

Chapter Eight

The last day of training with Helga was the worst of them all. They started with the same run around the lake before moving into sword training. Even though Althea could last longer than the day before—despite her screaming muscles—it took immense determination not to just crawl up in a ball and give up. She was fighting one of the best warriors ever and the fact she could last more than five minutes was a noteworthy accomplishment in and of itself.

At some point in the fight Helga brought out her wand and started attacking with one hand and defending with her magic. It only took one move to knock Althea on her ass. The woman laughed before ordering her to get back up. "If you have enough strength to wield with one hand then it works to your advantage. Few these days study the art form."

Learning swordplay might make sense in this time, but no one used weapons in the future anymore. The closest a person could come would be the Ministry-regulated Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' Defense product line, but those were mostly aerial type sprays and powders. The last time a person had used a sword in battle was when Neville Longbottom cut off a snake's head. Helga Hufflepuff would probably be disappointed in the lack of fighting finesse in the 21st century.

That and her vastly different House qualifications. Hufflepuff had been the joke of Hogwarts for centuries before it had started to change. She wondered how that Sorting Hat could get the woman so mixed up with the one in front of Althea. Helga lowered her sword and gave Althea time to stand up and brush off. They started again, this time only using one hand, and it was harder than using both. Althea' shoulder ached from the first impact, but she managed to block and pull out her wand at the same time.

Ministry field training was more than it used to be, but still pretty basic for the 'pencil-pushers'. Only Aurors needed to know how to fight and battle Dark wizards. Otherwise it was a physical assessment, simple obstacle test, and spell check and done. She was sure that a large reason for the tests was thanks to the requirements to join Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix. They weren't at war, but they could be any day now. No one wanted to be caught off guard again.

That didn't mean Althea was anywhere close to Harry Potter's level as she blocked Helga's sword and fired off a Disarming spell at the same time. But, for once, it seemed that some kind of luck was on her side because the witch's wand flew out of her hand and Althea followed through on the block with an attack. And, for once, Helga didn't block it in time and it landed. They staggered and fell at the same time—both off balance—and landed on the dirt.

"I'm so sorry!" Althea expected to lose her head at any moment. She'd cut Helga fucking Hufflepuff across the arm and had to pay for it in some way.

The witch stood up, sheathed her sword, and threw her head back laughing. "Sorry for what, girl? I haven't been knocked down for years! If you weren't too old I'd put you in my House."

She reached forward and hugged Althea, completely surprising the witch, and picked her off of the ground. She added this moment to the list of things that she couldn't put in report because of how unbelievable it would be. "It would be an honor."

"Then I dub thee, Lady Althea, an honorary Hufflepuff." Helga set her back down and handed over the sword. "Your training is finished and I believe that this is yours now."

"Oh, I couldn't—"

"I insist. I haven't used that old thing for years…and it suits you."

#

Rule #8 of the Timekeeper's Code: Do not bring any artifacts from the past to the future.

It felt weird to be sitting on the bed in her broom closet holding Helga Hufflepuff's old sword and coming to terms with the gift. The hilt was silver with black inlay, a fairly simplistic design, and the blade was fairly dull. She'd use a Sharpening Charm later to fix it, but for now all she could do was stare. Helga Hufflepuff had given her a sword and she either had to take it with her or not. If she did then she'd be breaking the code, but if she didn't then there was a chance it could alter the future in some way.

There was a knock at her door. Hiding the sword under her pillow, she stood up and answered. It was probably Gryffindor looking for another date. Except the person outside her door wasn't him; it was Rowena Ravenclaw. Her hair was perfectly coiffed with the diadem snuggled in it like a nest. She had a tight smile as she dipped her head. "May I speak with you, Lady Althea?"

"Oh, of course."

She stepped into the room, looking like a peacock in a pigeon coop, and gave the room a quick glance. "Had I known your accommodations were substandard I would have insisted on one of the guest suites."

"It's fine by me. I don't need much."

"Good to know." She conjured up a chair and sat, snapping her fingers and sending for tea and biscuits a moment later. "I'd like to speak with you about Godric and Salazar."

"What about them?"

"I'm a shrewd woman, Lady Althea, and I've noticed a few things about your relationships with my friends. What are your intentions?"

"I'm sorry?" She couldn't believe that this was happening.

"I can understand the allure of the pursuit," Rowena said, "but my friends are not prey. Godric will not be toyed with much longer and Salazar is more delicate than he seems. I will not stand by and allow anyone to distract them from their pursuits. Ah, the tea."

She poured a steaming cup while helping herself to a biscuit. Althea was frozen to her spot on the bed and tried to process what was happening. Rowena offered her a cup and her hands shook as she took it. The sorceress was someone more terrifying than Helga, Gryffindor, and Salazar combined and all she was doing was drinking tea.

"I think you'll understand it if I'm not enthused about their affections for you. Hogwarts can't afford to be divided in times such as these, and it would be best if you were to take one for your suitor or deny them both. In due time, I think you'll find this a wise decision, but I can't really recommend a choice. They each have their positive and negative aspects, I'll grant you, but either would be a fine husband."

In the world of things that Althea thought would never happen this ranked highest. She could believe getting discovered on a mission—it happened to the best Timekeeper—but Ravenclaw acting like a mother bear had not been something she could've predicted. "I promise you I have no intentions for either man," she said. "I'm leaving in eight days and can't afford to."

The woman narrowed her gaze for a moment before giving a curt nod. "I trust your word as long as your actions prove true."

"Besides I'm not really a suitor-type of girl. It wouldn't last anyway."

She shook her head. "I doubt that. Godric may have his weekly affairs and Salazar seems to care little for love, but they are both men who would stop time for you. I know this from just a few days. Surely you must?"

"I…No, I didn't realize they felt so strongly."

"You're not used to being wooed are you?"

Rowena was straight-forward and honest, qualities that Althea had always admired before she had to personally deal with them. It was true that she'd hadn't really dated since starting work at the Ministry, but when she was in and out of time every couple of months it didn't make much sense to get involved. Before that she'd had a somewhat serious relationship with Eli Goldstein from fifth year to seventh, but that had ended when he'd gone on to do his mastery and she'd entered the Ministry.

"No, I'm not."

"A witch can tell," she said. "I never cared for relationships myself until I met Favian."

"You have a husband?"

"Had."

Logically it made sense that Helena Ravenclaw had to have a father, but he was listed as 'unknown' on all of the Ministry's data. "What happened?"

"I'm not comfortable discussing that with you," she said. "And you have no need to know. Just understand that love doesn't come easily for women like us, but when it does you should enjoy every second."

#

She didn't go to dinner. Instead she put up more wards on her room and pulled out all of her supplies. She hadn't been keeping up with her journals since there wasn't much of a point, but the urge to write hit hard. Even if it didn't make it into her report or the paperwork, she had to write it down so it would be real somewhere once she returned to the future. Her last entry had been the afternoon before Salazar had found her, so that's where she started.

It seemed even crazier when she wrote it down and hard to believe that it had all happened in just a few days. Had she really been discovered naked by Salazar Slytherin? Had she really gone on a date with Godric Gryffindor and trained with Helga Hufflepuff? Had she really eaten at the Masters' Platform with the founders and talked to the future Bloody Baron? It all sounded like a crazy dream the Thinkers in the Department conjured up.

Maybe this was all in her head, some kind of practical test within the Department to see how she would act outside of assignment parameters. In which case she'd probably failed a thousand times over, but then why wouldn't they just pull her out of the simulation? It didn't matter. There wasn't much time left before she'd be going.

Her head hurt like it'd been hit by the Hogwarts Express. She organized all of her supplies before hiding them. Once again she was tired of Cleansing Charms and she was already in too deep so why not go further? Taking down the wards and leaving the room, Althea went off in search of a bath. The prefects' quarters were a few years from being added on, but that didn't mean there wasn't some kind of bath the founders might use. There were quite a few places she hadn't followed them when she'd been under the Cloak, and she went through them in her mind. There were the personal chambers which weren't really options, the Chamber of Secrets didn't have a bath and she really didn't want to get naked with a basilisk, and that only left one choice. She didn't know what it was exactly, but in the last week she'd tailed Rowena the woman had gone into a room on the seventh floor and disappeared for several hours.

Althea put on her Cloak once again, hoping to avoid Gryffindor to the best of her ability, and made her way up the staircases. It did seem ridiculous to have a castle this large for only sixty-two students, four founders, and a single guest, but it would be needed in the future. She found the area where she distinctly remembered Rowena going into a room, but there wasn't a door to be found. She'd been so sure that it had to be some kind of special bath or maybe a study with a bath. The woman had immaculate hair that couldn't be created by just spells and potions. There had to be a goddamn tub somewhere!

She paced for a moment or two before looking up and finding a perfectly ordinary looking door that hadn't been there before. It was about where she remembered it should be, and she turned the knob after checking for any wards or protection spells. It seemed odd that there wouldn't be any at all, but if there was a bath behind that door it might be worth it. She cast a few charms of her own before turning the knob.

Inside was the most beautiful bathroom Althea had ever seen. Better than the prefects', better than all the ones in her mother's muggle magazines, and way better than the small cubby she had in her flat. This was a proper bathroom. The tub took up most of the floor—more of a pool really—and she could already see steam rising from the scented bubbles. The entire room smelled like eucalyptus and mint and there were fluffy towels and a robe hanging near the water.

"Thank you, Rowena," she said.

She closed the door behind her, set up a handful of wards, and stripped off her clothes. The water was the perfect temperature and she sank below the surface. There was a beautiful mosaic in the tile underneath that reminded her of the night sky. When she came up there were bottles nearby that hadn't been there before. She opened and smelled them each, and almost jumped for joy when she realized that they were washes that would be regulated in her time for their quality. Immediately lathering and smiling, she began to sing as she finally relaxed.

It was one of her mother's favorite songs, a jazz number by Blossom Dearie, and she let the familiar tune ring out. She could feel layers of dirt come off. There was only so much a Cleansing Charm could do. No matter how long she stayed in the water the bubbles and temperature didn't change. The moment she wished to know what time it was a clock appeared on the wall and told her, but that didn't make sense.

Clocks weren't invented yet, and neither were watches so there was no way for this kind of technology to exist in the room unless…. Unless this room didn't follow the laws of space or time. She remembered that there had been a rumor while she was Hogwarts of a place like that, somewhere that had hosted Dumbledore's Army and countless other rebels, but it didn't make sense that such a place would exist in this time. The only reason it would is if Rowena Ravenclaw created it herself.

That made a lot of sense actually.

Her voice made a nice echo off of the walls, but she was confident that her charms wouldn't let the sound out. She'd been in the bath long enough that her fingers were nice and pruned, and she could feel the distinct absence of all the knots in her body. It was the best she'd felt since being discovered.

She pulled herself out of the water and dried off with one of the incredibly soft towels. Her suit, on the other hand, was still not clean. They were designed to resist dirt, contaminants, water, and every other thing on earth, but that didn't mean they were self-cleaning. It would probably be best to air the suit out for a night, soak it in the deep-cleaning potion from her supplies, and put it back on in the morning. That meant she would either have to wear the dirty suit on her clean body until she was back in her room or carry it while wearing the Cloak.

Althea could admit that the idea of streaking through Hogwarts (even if invisible) gave her some kind of thrill. So she picked up her suit, covered up with the Cloak, checked her lack of reflection in the mirror that appeared on the wall, and took down the wards. She stepped out of the room with a new sense of purpose and immediately walked into someone. The force from the impact cause the Cloak to slip off of her head and start to slide down her shoulders, but she grabbed it before it could completely reveal everything.

"We have to stop meeting like this, Lady Althea," Salazar said.

"I'm…I was…going to my room."

"In such a state?" He lifted a dark eyebrow and smirked.

She felt a full body blush happening, but raised her head instead of ducking it. "My clothes were dirty and I have nothing else to wear."

"Are you a witch or not?" he said. "Could you not just conjure a new gown?"

She probably could have asked the room for clothes. She probably should have. The dumb thrill-seeking Hufflepuff part of her had wanted the fun though and was paying for it with embarrassment. "I didn't think about that."

Unfortunately with the Cloak positioned the way it was she couldn't just summon a new one and was left with the awkwardness. He tilted his head and the corner of his mouth turned down. "I'm guessing that you are unable?"

"Kind of."

He sighed in an almost-fond way and with a quick flick of his wand she was clothed again. The gown felt like gossamer on her skin and she quickly noted that he hadn't chosen purple. It was silver—his color. It wasn't overly revealing, but the lack of substance to it made her feel just as naked. She kept the Cloak on, but relaxed her grip.

"Thank you," she said. "What were you doing up here?"

"I was about to ask the same."

"I was taking a bath."

He nodded as if that made sense. "And I was looking for you. The Locater Charm brought me up here."

"Awful far away from your dungeon."

"Far from your room as well." She shrugged before starting to walk down the corridor. He followed. "We were sorry to miss you at dinner."

"I had affairs to tend to."

"Are you sure it wasn't Rowena's visit that ruined your appetite?"

She turned and glared. "How do you know about that?"

"You're not the only one who has studied wards."

"You warded my room?"

"I warded the dungeons, Lady Althea, long before you were ever here."

"That's an invasion of privacy."

"That's safety."

He seemed cool as a cucumber under her heat and that made her angrier. She crossed her arms, barely noticing that his gaze followed, and shook back her still-wet hair. His cheeks reddened slightly and whether it was because she'd pissed him off or because of something else she wasn't sure. Her wand was within reach, but cursing one of the founders of Hogwarts probably wasn't a good idea.

"What did she speak to you about?" he asked.

"Curious?"

"Just wondering." They continued walking, but she picked up the pace as they went down one of the staircases.

"It's none of your business."

The staircase began to move toward one of the lower ones. "You are my guest, and are therefore my business."

"No, I'm not."

There was a loud groan as the staircase stopped moving. Althea waited for it to start back up since it could be an early-architecture bug, but when nothing happened she looked over at Salazar. He seemed just as puzzled as her.

"Is this your magic?" he asked.

"I'm not doing this."

"This hasn't happened before."

"Then how is it my fault?"

"I never said it was."

Salazar spoke a few spells to try and get the staircase to move once again, but nothing happened. It remained stuck. "I guess we have to go back."

She started walking back up the staircase, yelping in terror as her leg sank into one of the trick steps, and drawing Salazar's attention back to her. He came forward and helped her out, his hands wrapping around her waist, and she leaned into his touch. She looked up at him, could feel the exhale of air against the top of her head, and imagined how easy it would be to reach up and touch his lips with hers.

The staircase began to move and she fell against him even more. He held onto her as it shifted back into place and only let go when he was sure she had found her footing again. "What was that?"

"That," he said, "was an anomaly. The others and I will have to look into it."

Part of her wanted to know if he'd felt anything while he was holding her. If he'd wanted to kiss her too, but she couldn't ask that question. They kept walking toward the dungeons, hypothesizing on the cause of the error instead of finishing their discussion on Rowena's visit, and for that Althea was grateful. The staircases moved on their own—everyone knew that—but the fact that it had stopped out of nowhere while people were on it was different. Maybe they knew something she didn't.

Salazar stood almost-awkwardly in front of her door, like he was waiting for her to go in or unsure of asking to stay, and reached out to brush some stone dust from her Cloak. His hand lingered a moment, and it was long enough for her to take it. The skin touching hers was surprisingly soft, but he didn't grip sword hilts all day or work with potions as often as the others. He didn't move away as she traced the back of his hand and flipped it over to touch the lines on his palm.

"What are you looking for?" he said.

"I don't know."

"I think I do." He put his other hand over hers. His eyes were icebergs and the shiver that raced down her spine wasn't because they were cold. There was a heat there she'd never seen. "Are you looking for love, Althea?"

He leaned down as he lifted up her chin. His lips barely grazed hers for a second, and she was lost.