Conscious thought returned slowly, filtering slowly through what felt like layers of cotton and glass shards surrounding his brain. Trying to open leaden eyes, he twitched as the pain increased, and before he succumbed again to the dark, he heard a light, feminine voice call: Helga, come! I think he has returned!"
The next time he awoke, it was with a firmer grasp on reality. Head feeling much less like a shattered vessel; though still over-full, Harry lay there, content to reacquaint himself with a solid, physical state. The feeling of crisp cotton covering his body, and the warm glow of sunlight on his eyelids, proved that he was not over-damaged, and as he shifted to better enjoy the feeling of feeling again, he noticed an intrusion upon his quiet world. A light tingling covered him, and as he frowned in confusion, it intensified, until with a slight 'pop', it stopped and a bell ringed. Soon he heard the quiet swish of robes across a stone floor, accompanied by the soft rasp of leather soles, until they came to a stop at his shoulder, bringing the faint scent of roses.
"I know that you are awake, young man, you can open your eyes," a crisp voice stated.
Pushing down a nervous feeling, Harry cracked open his eyes, wincing at the light, until he could see a pale face above him, surrounded by wisps of golden hair escaping from a bun and bright blue eyes staring at him with interest.
"Ah, good. You certainly took your time returning. Quite strange." She pulled out her wand, and running a tingly blue light along his body, she frowned slightly. "You're in perfect health, and have been since you arrived. None of us could figure out why you couldn't wake up."
"How," his voice cracked, rusty with disuse, "how long was I out?"
"Over a week", she said matter-of-factly.
"Am I in St. Mungo's then?" he as disinterestedly, still distracted by Morpheus.
"No," she replied, looking at him again. "You're in the infirmary at Hogwarts."
"Oh," he said, blinking a bit, "you would think I would recognize it, seeing how much time I spend here."
With this her gaze sharpened, and then she turned, muttering something shooting a silvery butterfly off to parts unknown. Turning back to him, she summoned more pillows, propping him up into a sitting position, and retucking the blankets around his waist. As she finished this, a door across the room swung open, surprising Harry into waking up a bit more. Rubbing his eyes, he realized that he should not have been able to see as well as he was, but set this aside, as three people entered the room, walking briskly towards his side of the ward. Stiffening slightly at the guarded looks he received, he shifted slightly, unconsciously lowering his hand to find his wand as they came to a stop near the mediwitch. The man in green silk robes noticed, and raised an eyebrow in response. Harry flushed a bit, thinking, "Merlin, lets see how obvious I can be. Damned Gryffindorish habits."
Noticing the others, Harry turned to look at a burly man with a reddish mane, who was almost bouncing on his toes, questions coming faster and faster. "So Helga, he's awake? Has he said anything of use? Where he's from…"
"Really, Godric, do stop your prattling. You're like an over-eager puppy with a new bone." the man in green drawled.
Leaning back against his pillows, Harry smirked to himself. Regardless of the improbability of the situation, he now knew where and when he was. He was quite sure that he ought to be having hysterics at the very thought, but it seemed that he was cursed to have a life filled with strange adventures, and he was feeling a bit jaded by this point. He had to admit to himself though, that it was rather amusing to watch the original Slytherin/Gryffindor sniping, which seemed to be a lot more fun than the vitriol slung between his house and Malfoy's.
As they continued to talk over his head, Harry observed the two who most interested him: Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. They were a study in contrasts; Godric almost burly, resembling his symbol somewhat with his wild mane of hair and beard, and Salazar sleek and refined. Harry cocked his head to the side a bit, "He looks rather a lot like me," he thought with a bit of awe. "Of course, young Tom Riddle did as well. Just a bit strange.
He finally tuned back in to what was going on, as Ravenclaw finally interrupted the friendly bantering between Godric and Salazar, practicality obviously intruding. "Well, seeing as how he is awake, wouldn't it be simplest to just ask him?" She continued muttering under her breath, "Really, if things were left to the two of them, nothing would ever get done."
"Well, really, if you want to ruin my fun…" Godric pouted. They all turned and looked at Harry, who was attempting to keep his amusement from showing.
"Well", he said. Looking at them, he cursed his distractedness, amusement fading. He wasn't entirely sure how much he should tell them, wasn't sure what would matter, if anything, and how much things might be changed by him being there. "Well," he began again, "I think that I have at least a general idea of what happened, but first, one question, if I may? Where was I found?"
Godric answered. "You were found in my tower. A group of my students woke up to you in their room a week ago. How did you get there??"
"Mmm," Harry hummed. He looked down at his lap, picking at the sheet with his fingers, biding his time. He wanted more information from them, which, he thought, if he frustrated Godric enough, he might get. Already he was reminded of Ron Weasley, with his impatience for verbal maneuvering.
"How did you get past our wards?" Godric demanded.
He was about to continue, when Salazar put his hand on his arm. "Godric, please. We don't need to tell him any more than he already knows."
"Well", Harry thought wryly, "there went that idea. I suppose Slytherin cunning doesn't work well against the original Slytherin."
"I am just a bit unsure of where to start, or what is relevant." Harry said as he looked up again. "I didn't get around your wards, because I was already within them. I am not really sure how I got here. It doesn't help that I was unconscious at the time," he added.
This time it was Rowena who stopped him. How can you say that you don't know how you got here if you know that you were already within the wards?" she queried.
"That is the difficult part," Harry said frankly. "I am a student at Hogwarts, I just don't go here at this time." Are you trying to say that you were here this whole time, and we just didn't notice you?" demanded Godric.
"Really, Godric," Rowena interjected, "that is a bit dim, even for you."
Harry couldn't help but smirk as he clarified, "I don't come from this time, but I do come from this place. I really haven't any idea as to how I was pulled through time, but knowing how my life goes, I will be pulled back at some point. I don't know what else I can safely say." He finished, adding a bit of frustration to his voice.
"Well," Helga said, "since you are here, and a student of Hogwarts, we may as well have you continue with your education. We will need to evaluate you, you look old enough to specialise."
At Harry's confused look, she clarified. "In that last three years students choose one area with up to two related subjects to focus on. This can lead to an apprenticeship, if so desired."
"Things sure have changed." Harry muttered. "Well, if we are going to have a discussion about my education, can we have it elsewhere? Preferably far from the hospital wing, and involving real clothing for me?" he asked, looking hopefully at the founders.
"I think that is reasonable." conceded Helga. She turned to the others and said, "Why don't you go, and I'll take him to the office once he's fixed up."
Harry grinned, and swung off of the bed eagerly.
"You really dislike staying here, don't you?" Helga asked as the others left.
"I definitely spend more time here than the average student." Harry said dryly.
She directed him towards a small chamber, where he gratefully took off the hospital pajamas, washed quickly, and then took a robe from a neat pile on a shelf. Fruitlessly he tried to tame his hair before joining Helga in walking to a well-remembered gargoyle. Harry had an almost irresistible urge to start naming off sweets, to see if it would open, and was surprised when it leapt aside after being scratched under the chin. Helga looked at him as they stepped onto the revolving stairs. "That won't work for just anybody, now," she said a bit sternly.
They stepped into the round office and took seats at the table provided, which held tea and an assortment of biscuits and sandwiches. After everyone had settled themselves, Salazar was the one to begin. "The logical place to start would be your name," he said simply.
Harry looked at him warily before replying, "Harry."
"Now," Salazar continued, "tell us about your schooling."
"I'm just about finished with my fifth year. My best subject is Defence Against the Dark Arts, though we have had some one different every year teaching it. This year, some one from the ministry, more interested in her sadistic pleasures than teaching, was the professor, and I ended up teaching Defense in the Room of Requirement. Potions is my worst subject. I don't know if that is because I am that bad, or because the professor hates my dead father. I think that I would like to see which it is." Harry said simply.
He sat back and sipped at his tea while the four conferred. Eventually they seemed to come to a consensus, and turned back to him.
"Harry," he said this with a slight twist of his lips, "it seems that you will be studying under me for Dark Arts and potions, and going to Godric for defence. I think that it would be best if this were treated as a formal apprenticeship, so that your contact with the students is minimized. You will stay in my quarters, and except for time spent with Godric for practical defence, you will be with me."
"Okay." Harry said, a bit dazed. "Oh, did my wand happen to make it here with me?"
"Yes it did." said Godric, and going to the desk across the room, he pulled it out of a drawer and handed it over.
"Thank you." Harry said, quickly putting it up his sleeve.
"Come then, and I will show you to our quarters." said Salazar abruptly.
Harry obediently stood up and followed him out of the office and down into the dungeons where Salazar stopped in front of a painting with a beautiful woman with gently waving snakes instead of hair. Glancing at Harry he hissed/Open.\
Harry laughed. "Not very creative, is it?" he asked, looking at Salazar.
"I thought that you might be keeping back more than the obvious," replied Salazar replied as he stepped through into the rooms beyond.