Standard Disclaimers Apply

Pairing: HP/OC also HP/DM later

Summary: HP/OC, HP/DM The shock of a sudden change in appearance tears a hole in the fabric of time, sending Harry back to 998 A.D. Upon discovering only 3 of the 4 Founders, Harry accidentally takes on the role of the 4th Founder.

Warning: Creature Harry, Time travel, eventual Slash and Mpreg.

Note: Dual-author fic. Sorry for the wait! We had a problem with the timetabling and writing it up took longer than we had anticipated. Hope you like Chapter One, here it is.

The Founder

Chapter One

By gemroses

The darkness, however inviting it was, was beginning to get bothersome. The boring black scape, with no shadows and no lights, offered him nothing anymore. He mentally tried to push it back while searching for the thread that would allow him to reach consciousness and the real world.

The first thing he became aware of as he came to was the feeling of pain. The feeling that followed pain was warmth. As his other senses returned Harry knew he could hear a fire crackling, someone shuffling around and something bubbling that didn't smell particularly nice.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself looking straight up into a forest canopy. The trees that blocked out the sky were very tall and seemed to lack branches till about half way up their almighty trunks. Still, Harry didn't remember being in a forest before he, he hesitated to say, fainted. Had he woken where he fell he'd be looking up at a wooden roof or, failing that, looking up at the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing with Pomfrey muttering nearby.

Harry lifted his torso slightly only to hiss in pain and fall backwards groaning. He heard a deep male laugh and then a face and shoulders came into view.

"Ciamar a tha sibh?" (1) Harry frowned at the words, they made little…okay he'd admit it, they made no sense what so ever. It sounded like Gobbledygook, but his ears felt funny and with the pounding of his heart, which he was sure had moved into his skull, he wasn't surprised that he hadn't heard or understood. He frowned.

"Ciamar a tha sibh?" The man repeated and Harry closed his eyes and tried to push away the pounding in his head. His need for the sounds to go and his ears to clear so he could understand seemed to push away any blockages in his ears and head. He felt a wave of air pass over him and what sounded like wind rushing past his ears dominated his hearing before silence.

Then the man spoke again.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really. I hurt… a lot." Harry emphasized trying to convey his seriousness with his eyes. The dark man chuckled and Harry noticed something he wouldn't have picked up on had the man not laughed.

"I am not surprised you are hurt. When one falls from the sky as you did, one cannot escape a little pain, though anyone falling from the sky as you did would be dead. You are very lucky. Now, your potions are nearly ready. I have healed your bones and given you something to help you make more blood."

Harry did not hesitate, he felt he could trust the man before him and so he drank from the goblet presented to his lips. He nearly threw up in disgust at the taste but instead finished whatever the concoction was and fell into a rather violent coughing fit.

"Yes, it does tend to have that effect on people. It helps though." The coughs slowly subsided, though by the time they had gone Harry felt like he had hacked up his throat.

"Thank you." He muttered, feeling the pain over his body disappear enough to allow him to sit up. Once upright, he took a good look over his carer.

The man looked young with his slick straight black hair, that fell loosely below his shoulders. Its length was enough that should the man let it fall in front of his shoulders it would end at the same point his beard ended. His beard was thin and it started around his top lip, around his mouth, and on his chin. He had no sideburns and was well groomed. He had very pale cheeks and hands though that was probably because of his vampirism – Harry had seen the fangs. The man had dark pink lips hiding pearly white teeth from view. His eyes were slightly sunken into his face and the beady black eyes seemed to see right through you.

Despite the lack of grey hair and wrinkles, the youthful face had an ancient feel about it. It was most likely the eyes that gave it away. Inside the black abyss was a glint that spoke of the years that he had seen. The phrase 'never judge a book by its cover' came to mind. If the man was to be a book then the cover was newly made and impeccably kept. The title, written on both the spine and the front cover would be on recent topics. The only thing on the outside to give away the true age of the book would be the yellowing, dog eared corners of the pages, the ones only just visible when the book was closed.

The man wore black everything. His boots, trousers, belt, shirt, cloak and hood were all black casting the man in more shadows despite the darkness the forest canopy provided especially with the way the man hunched forwards in a monkey-like fashion to shade himself more.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, wincing at the pain that even a little talking caused his throat.

"We are about one mile north of a hamlet called Hogsmeade."

"You said I fell from the sky?"

"Aye, that you did." The man nodded. "You landed only a few feet from where you now lie. You fell a great many feet. There were low clouds that day too; I could have sworn it was from them you fell."

"So where's Hogwarts?" Harry asked confusedly.

"I have never heard of it."

"But I was last at Hogwarts! In the dormitory bathroom." The man frowned in confusion.

"I have not heard of what you speak. Perhaps you are more ill than I first diagnosed. Lie back down, young sir." Harry didn't have much of a choice in the matter when the man put his hand flat against Harry's chest. Harry let out an irritated sigh as the man started checking for a temperature or any head injury he had missed previously.

"You said there were low clouds the day I arrived…"

"Yes…"

"What day was that?"

"That was five suns ago and the sun shall be setting soon on our sixth day of company." Harry nodded in understanding and went to say something further, when he yawned. He covered his mouth with his hand after a moment but something made the man's eyes widen.

"Has nobody come looking for me?" Harry finally asked after coming out of his yawn. The man shook his head.

"No, no-one comes in this forest if they can help it, you lose your way too easily and the trees are rarely helpful with all their wanderings. You have fangs also?" Harry frowned and reached a hand into his mouth to check. He felt the two lengthened incisors with a small point on them that was surprisingly sharp drawing blood from his fingertip. He winced and sucked to try and close the wound.

The sharp teeth however, feeling their presence threw Harry's mind back to before he woke, before the black. His reflection in the mirror. Withdrawing his finger from his mouth, screwing his face up at the taste of blood, he lifted both hands to his ears finding the point there.

"The last thing I remember was looking in my reflection and seeing these." He showed the man, not feeling the least embarrassed or worried in confiding in a stranger. "When I'd gone to bed they hadn't been there but when I'd woken up they had been. I was so shocked then everything went black."

"Hm. I've not heard of anything like that before. I've also never heard or seen something quite like yourself. Perhaps one parent was elven and the other was vampire?"

"No." Harry objected with a small shake of his head. "No both my parents were human. A wizard and a witch. I am human, or at least I used to be." Harry yawned, again covering his lips.

"Well, you are certainly a mystery." The yawn carried on still before subsiding and leaving Harry looking up with bleary eyes. "I suggest you sleep now, when you wake up next you can eat. Rest."

The man went to stand up and walk away, but Harry called him back. "Wait! Please, what is you name?"

"My name is Baron Dartagnan (2) Prince though my title of Baron has long since been removed from my name. However, for introductions sake, and for my pride, I am a Baron still. And you, young sir?"

"My name is Harry Potter." Harry yawned again and a great heaviness fell on his eyelids. After a few moments of blinking and hearing none of the words spilling from Dartagnan's lips, Harry allowed sleep to take him, idly wondering if he would be safe now he had revealed his identity to the Vampire Baron.

When Harry woke it was to the smell of food. He briefly wondered whether it had all been a dream but the smell of trees, the forest and the stench of something simmering that was most likely a medical concoction confirmed the reality of the situation.

He opened his eyes but this time saw some tree roots rather than the canopy. Feeling his makeshift bed pressing against his hip bone and shoulder Harry tsked and rolled onto his back and saw a half moon peaking through the canopy lit both by the moon's light, star light and the dim light given by the crackling fire.

"It's not a dream then."

"No it isn't a dream. How do you feel?"

"Okay I guess." He replied sitting up and looking over to Dartagnan who was stoking the fire and stirring what looked like soup. Harry pushed himself to standing and slowly made his way over to his carer.

"You've slept through the night, dawn should be here soon. Here you need food. It's not much but that is because my cooking skills are sadly lacking. Living decades on animal blood does that to you."

"Hm I guess." Harry took the bowl of liquid and saw that it was mostly water with a few leaves in there. "What is it?"

"Nettle soup. I boiled the nettles so there was no sting left so don't worry. I've heard it doesn't taste too bad. Have some, if anything it will fill your stomach."

Harry scrunched his nose up, took a deep breath and shut his eyes before he brought the bowl up to his lips, as there was no spoon provided, and drank down the soup. It didn't taste of much but at least Dartagnan was right and it did fill his stomach.

"I've located a stream not far from here large enough for someone to bathe. When the air warms it would be a good idea to wash. I have also retrieved you some clothes to replace these…" Dartagnan sneered slightly as he looked over Harry's clothing "…garments."

Harry nodded but said he'd wash now if Dartagnan would retrieve his change of clothes for him. It was then that Harry got another shock and his mind provided him a question to which the answer would both help Harry understand what was going on and baffle him at the same time.

In his hands Dartagnan held a chemise made out of a white material, some boots, a black folded garment that would tie around the waist while it wrapped around and up between his legs. He also held some, what looked to Harry like, tights in white and a black cloak with a plain black pin to hold it in place.

"Uh Dartagnan?" Harry asked not reaching out to take the clothes.

"Yes?"

"What date is it?" Dartagnan looked startled by the question and from the suddenly calculating expression on his face was, most likely, mentally questioning Harry's sanity.

"The exact date I am unsure of but spring is turning to summer the year of the muggle Lord 998A.D."

Harry began spluttering and backed away from Dartagnan.

"B-b-but… Time travel is impossible!"

"What drivel are you spouting?" Dartagnan scowled.

"It's not drivel! Honestly Dartagnan! I was born in 1981… Time travel would also explain how I fell from the sky. I was in the tower over seven storeys high. It would also explain how you haven't heard of Hogwarts because it hasn't been built yet… Can't remember when it's built, but still."

"Maybe I should have left you for dead. If I hadn't been in a good mood and sensed your heartbeat. Still, I can rectify the situation…" Dartagnan made to advance but Harry, recognising what Dartagnan was suggesting backed away with panic bubbling through him. The panic-induced adrenaline rush did in fact prove to be useful in the end though. With the energy provided, spurring Harry's mind to work double speed, he came up with an idea and a way to turn the situation around.

"Wait!" Harry whipped out his wand that, conveniently enough, was still in his wand holder on his forearm. With the 'Solaris' charm on the tip his tongue. "I can prove it. I have books with dates on, labelled pictures and other things."

"You brought nothing with you. I find your words very hard to believe." Harry took a large step backwards as the vampire took another step forwards.

"Accio trunk! Finite Incantatum!" Harry commanded and the trunk flew from his pocket and towards his hand. Before it reached his hand, however, Harry moved his concentration, effectively cancelling the spell, and cast the spell to remove the shrinking charm.

Dartagnan was stunned into inaction at the very sudden appearance of the strange looking belongings trunk. He'd never heard of those spells before, nor seen magic work like that and he'd been a wizard before he was a vampire.

"What was that?"

"I will tell you if you promise not to harm me while I dig around in there." Harry pointed to his trunk.

"Very well."

"Good." Harry pocketed his wand for a moment and unlocked his trunk shoving the lid hard so that the lid fell backwards and the joints creaked at being forced to allow extra movement. Harry dug around through his belongings and found several books, having to move his spare wash kit and book bag out of the way first in order to get to them.

"Here, you can read can't you?" Harry handed it to Dartagnan, who looked over the cover of it with an astonished look on his face.

"I can read, aye. But this language is foreign to me"

"What do you mean? You cannot read the language you speak?"

"I do not speak this language. I speak Gaelic and Celtic both of whose languages are written with runes."

"I don't understand. How is it that I can understand and talk to you?" Dartagnan considered this for a while, his thumb idly playing with the pages of the book.

"I believe that is another mystery, one I am sure we will find an answer to. In the meantime, let us just say that magic made it so." Dartagnan sighed and handed the book back to Harry. "I believe you speak the truth. I may be unable to read the words here, but I can understand the numbers and your magical display is not like wizards nowadays are capable of."

"If I can speak like you, can I perhaps read the language too?"

"That will be a good test, however save it for a while. First a wash and since you are here, you are to dress appropriately." Dartagnan pointed to the clothes he had recently discarded to the floor during the argument. Harry groaned at the clothes comment but was happy enough to wash. He was just thankful that he had two sets of wash kits with a toothbrush, flannel, towel, and numerous toothpaste packets, shampoos, conditioners, soaps and colognes in each set.

After a complete wash, by the end of which Harry felt completely refreshed despite the cold water, he was taught the appropriate way men dressed in these times. Harry had received some vicious, as well as confused, expressions from Dartagnan when he'd commented that he felt like a girl having to wear a dress, in reference to the chemise that fell to just above his knees, and the tights, to which the only alternative to wearing were stockings that only served to make Harry equally indignant as the tights had.

Finally dressed however, Harry looked like the son of a noble except for him displaying no wealth via jewels, uncut stones or furs on his clothes and the distinct lack of jewellery. Dartagnan had informed him that he'd need to acquire some of the aforementioned things, in order to be taken seriously and in order to stay safe.

Dartagnan and Harry spent weeks in each other's company, each learning about the other and to read, write and how one should act in each time. Between Dartagnan teaching Harry runes and customs and Harry returning the favour by teaching Dartagnan to read write and speak English they both learned about each other.

Harry learnt about Dartagnan's especially long life and how the man became a vampire as well as a potion's Master. Harry had discovered the latter when Dartagnan demanded that he translate the potions book for him and teach him to read with the book.

Apparently, because of his obsession with the concoctions, and art of concocting, Dartagnan had half a mind to open a store to sell all the vital ingredients and his recipes, though he had decided that being open at night only would not be good for business. That and selling recipes to a community who couldn't read wouldn't be beneficial either. Still, Harry took notes on his potions and even discovered that a few of the potions that were in Harry's potions book had been invented by a man called Dartagnan Prince.

Dartagnan, as well as teaching Harry the native languages, taught Harry Latin both written and spoken. It surprised Harry what a quick study he was, and Dartagnan wasn't slow either.

By the end of the few weeks in each other's company Dartagnan admitted that he was needed south in London, and that it was family business. While their relationship was the closest to father-son either of them had ever experienced, Dartagnan knew he couldn't stay in Harry's company in London.

It was decided, quite peacefully, that Harry and Dartagnan would part ways once in London. However Dartagnan had forced them both to shop for new supplies for both of them, more importantly getting Dartagnan a trunk and getting them both new clothes. The older man insisted he paid though and when Harry complained Dartagnan said Harry could repay him by teaching him the spell to shrink and resize the trunk.

A few days later the pair parted ways with Dartagnan assuring Harry he could find him again after his business was taken care off. Harry was not certain he could manage a good few weeks on his own in this foreign place but left his stand-in father and mentor.

NOTES

(1) Means 'How are you?' Formal Scottish Gaelic (according to Wikipedia)

(2) Dartagnan – said DAR-TAN-EE-ON