Why does Fawkes like him (Harry) anyway?
They weren't supposed to be as friendly as they turned out but Fawkes, at least, eventually realizes that they were perhaps too harsh on Salazar (he has had a thousand years to think about it, after all.
Couldn't Snape just ask Harry to get the snake venom?
Well, a) Snape doesn't know that there are any Runespoors around (in the forest, you know); b) Snape isn't about to ask Harry's help for anything; and c) Snape sort of…well, he doesn't forget that Harry knows Parseltongue but, like most people, he just doesn't connect the snake tongue to Dumbledore's golden boy.
Is this the first time in the story that the angel stuff has been added in?
The angel stuff was introduced in the first chapter, and pretty much ignored, except for little things (like the fact that angel powers gave him the ability to shapeshift). I'd recommend you read it, but its basically: Harry has huge, black wings with four streaks of white feathers, fangs, and pointy ears. Angel powers gave him shapeshifting abilities, so he can easily hide them. When he notices this, Harry does think of some stuff about angels that he read in a book once, so you should probably read if you want to know more about angels.
As for his being dark I must ask - are the white strips in the wings due to Harry's personality or did he have them before? You say he is an fallen /excuse me if I'm not using the correct word/ angel. That he had been broken? Was he broken before or did his friends break him? Because it had a great effect on one's personality. If he had been abandoned before then if it turned out he could not die /the reincarnations part/ what would he become? Would he wallow in self-pity or pull himself together? If he does would he turn to the Arts he knows so well and had been his sanctuary before and deal his revenge against those who wronged him or would he let himself be guided by his 'friends'' opinions and forsake them? If he shields himself the way you say he does it is very possible he'd take the first option while silencing his inner doubts when he thinks everyone who becomes close to him abandons him at one time or another, with reasons or without real ones.
The white strips represent his innocence, or however much innocence he has left. The black represents more like pain and lack of innocence. I'd say that Sal's wings had a lot more black than Harry's when they merged or whatever and it sort of evened out; though Harry's must have had a lot of black too. I'm calling him a dark angel, as I'm pretty non-religious and so I'm trying to steer my fic away from all that stuff…He's not completely dark, or all his feathers would be black. Everything contributed: his father hating him, his mother dying, his friends turning against him, so it wasn't only his friendsNeither Harry or Salazar seems the type to wallow in self pity, although the hurt and pain might get to them…I'm really not so sure; I don't have a hold on Sal's emotions so much as Harry's (despite them being the same person).
I haven't changed anything major; just little things in each chapter…and Harry can't talk to Hedwig anymore. And I got a really great beta so we (or rather just she) are/is going through what I've already got up there.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
:Mindspeech:
-Parseltongue-
Chapter Seven: Travel Through Time
Moonlight glinted on the silver dagger in Harry's hand. It was nearly midnight a couple of days later and Harry was sitting at the top of the tallest tower in Snape Manor. The tower had a Parseltongue password, so he was sure that nobody would interrupt him.
Harry stared at the dagger, though not really seeing it as his mind was engaged in thought. It would be so easy to simply slit his wrists and end it or use one of the shorter ones tipped with basilisk venom – the latter would certainly be quicker.
Harry's trunk was lying next to him, and Hedwig was perched on his shoulder. For the last couple of nights, Harry had snuck up to the tower and spent about an hour just sorting through his suitcase. Tonight, however, Harry had come simply for the view. Although it would be so easy to just jump off, he mused darkly.
He desperately needed some sort of freedom that even cutting wouldn't give him. The only way that he could think of to do this was to kill himself, although a serviceable temporary solution was to cut deep enough that he blacked out for a few beautiful hours. Anyways, the last time he had tried, he had ended up with more problems than before.
He wanted to go home, dammit! Not just this house, which was open to anyone in need, but his home. But Hogwarts wasn't his home any more. A silent tear rolled down his cheek fell to the cold flagstone floor and Harry brushed it away angrily. His emerald eyes, glistening with more unshed tears, were no longer hidden by his ancient glasses; he had no need to pretend up in the tower, where only he could go. The boy wiped his eyes with the hem of his cloak, furious at the sight of the wet spots that appeared on the already-dark fabric.
He was not going to wallow in self pity! He was a Slytherin and was going to act like one! He was going to find a way to get into Hogwarts, despite what the wards had said.
But in the part of his mind that was not dwelling on the blade of the weapon or struggling not to scream, Harry knew that he was setting himself an impossible task. The other three founders had been just as strong as he and they had set up defenses specifically to keep him out. Harry might be let in for a little bit at a time if he had Fawkes with him, but there was no way the wards would let him attend classes, let alone live there!
The 'Gryffindor' took a deep breath and focused on the problem, the reason for his sudden wave of homesickness. It was Draco's birthday the next day, and Harry wasn't sure how to act. He needed more time! His magic was still wildly out of balance, and he had had not time to research.
Godric had been a year older than Salazar, though, so Harry had no idea as to when he was going to get his memories back, if ever. Draco, however, was one of the few students in his year that was younger than Harry.
Would Godric be so mad that he told Snape or Dumbledore about him? Would Godric have to call the wards off? Harry pushed the last thought away; he wasn't thinking about Hogwarts, he was thinking about Gryffindor!
Harry stood up, suddenly needing to walk as he thought. He shrunk the trunk with a wave of his quivering hand and put it into his pocket. The founder strode briskly through the maze of secret passageways that the residence housed to get into the forest, where he could walk around without worrying about being seen. Once under the cover of the dark trees he fluidly transformed into a panther. Naturally, the creature's form was black with green eyes and silver claws, although Harry was careful to leave out the wings.
No matter how he tried to distract himself, he wanted to go home! He knew beyond all doubt that the Hogwarts wards would surely kill him were he to approach the place but did he really care that much about dying? The founder didn't want to be killed, though. If he was going to die, Harry wished to do it himself; he should have control over that at least. But he could practically feel the ancient castle beckoning him home, calling to him, and felt like a piece of him had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole where Hogwarts should be.
Coming to a decision, Harry reverted to his human form and disapparated. Arriving at the school, he ran inside the grounds. He could hear the lion ward roaring after him, but ran on, the large doors banging open as he reached them. Turning, he sprinted into the dungeons; if he was going to die, he was going to do so at home.
The lion pounced on him first, sharp claws ripping brutally into his back. The eagle and badger soon joined the fight, claws and talons tearing flesh. Harry didn't cry out but couldn't stop himself from falling, the rough stone of the dungeons grating and chilling his already-broken skin.
Hogwarts didn't know what to do: her child was being murdered and she was powerless to do anything but watch; she had no command over the wards what were killing her founder and protector.
In the forest, animals howled and screeched, feeling a disturbance in the magic of the surrounding area. Merpeople in the great lake rose to the surface, wailing in that odd language of theirs and all over the castle, ghosts shivered, house elves cowered, paintings froze and suits of armor rattled hauntedly.
The magic within the castle was wildly out of balance, and Hogwarts herself, the keeper of the magic, was tipping the scale more and more in her panic. The magic in the air started spinning, making a giant whirlpool around the fallen Harry, the roaring and the screaming and the crash of the waves of magic building up in a terrible crescendo. Then all of a sudden, everything stopped; an abrupt and formless silence ringing through the whole castle. And, if one was to look at the spot where Harry Potter had been, they wouldn't see him, for he had vanished into thin air.
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Severus Snape, sixth year outcast of Slytherin, couldn't sleep. There was something…off; something had changed and was causing a disturbance in the school. He got out of bed and, as soon as his feet touched the stone floor, was overwhelmed with feelings of distress and…unbalance from the castle.
Severus had always had always had a bit of a connection with Hogwarts, but never felt anything as strong as this from her. The emotions coming off of the castle were enough to send him reeling, and he had to lean against a wall to stop himself from falling over. Little black dots swam before his bleary eyes and Severus felt lightheaded and dizzy.
All of a sudden, it all stopped but for a slight pulling feeling, leaving the Slytherin feeling rather uneasy. What had happened to make the castle react like this? He crept out of the Slytherin dormitories and common room, thankful that, since there was an odd number of Slytherins, he didn't have to share, as members of his house slept two to a room.
Tiptoeing out of the dungeons through a fairly unused corridor, he followed the castle's tugging and nearly tripped over a boy lying in the middle of the passageway. There was blood all over his robes, staining the dull flagstone that he lay sprawled upon.
Severus frowned. He couldn't see the boy very well in the dim passageway, but he looked suspiciously like Potter. Was it a prank? The Slytherin student didn't care what happened either way if it was Potter, but what if it was someone else? The boy was seriously injured, according to the blood that was everywhere.
"Lumos," he whispered. The tip of his wand lit up obediently and the sixth year got a good look at the other boy. He did indeed look a lot like Potter but was thinner and shorter and there were a few other small differences as well, though these could easily have been made with the use of a few simple charms. The boy was also wearing Muggle clothes, while the Potters were all pureblood and therefore did so very rarely.
Severus pulled out his wand and levitated the boy carefully. He was well aware that if the boy was badly injured, he might have just made it worse, but didn't know what else to do. He started towards the hospital wing, careful not to go too fast so as not to jostle the unconscious youth.
"Madam Pomfrey?" He called loudly, knocking rather hard on the heavy oak door of the hospital wing.
It was opened after a few minutes by a rather disheveled looking nurse – she'd obviously been resting,
"Mr. Snape! What on Earth are you doing out of bed at this hour?"
"I found him like this," Severus said, carefully not answering her question.
"Goodness!" The mediwitch exclaimed, finally spotting the boy, "Is that Mr. Potter?"
"I'm not sure, I never got a good look at him," Snape replied neutrally, even though he was almost positive that this teenager was not his long-term rival.
"Well, come in then" Madame Pomfrey bustled, "Can you set him down on that bed over there?" She requested, gesturing towards one of the beds. Severus did so, and Madame Pomfrey took out her wand, waving it in a complex motion over the still form.
"Valetudo Expositus," She said. A silver-blue light shot out of her want, seeming to go into the boy. His rescuer didn't see anything else but Madam Pomfrey seemed to be getting some kind of feedback from the spell and was apparently reading something in it. She frowned almost imperceptibly and cast the spell once more.
"That doesn't make any sense," the witch muttered to herself.
"What doesn't make any sense?" Madam Pomfrey jumped as if she had forgotten Snape was there.
"For one thing, this isn't Mr. Potter. I'm not sure who he is, but I've never seen him before. He seems to have been attacked recently by a large animal, but his injuries have been speed-healed by magic not more than half an hour ago. Doing that would have taken an impossible amount of power. Apart from that, he seems fine, though" Madam Pomfrey said, "I'm going to go get the headmaster; you keep an eye on him and make sure that he doesn't move."
Severus was about to protest that the boy was unlikely to be getting up any time soon and that he wouldn't know what to do if he did but she was gone before he opened his mouth. Muttering darkly, the student turned back to the boy, startled and not a little surprised to see his eyes open and a pair of emerald orbs watching him curiously.
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Harry slowly returned to consciousness. He stayed motionless, pretending not to be awake while giving his brain some time to catch up and analyse the situation. It didn't take long to realize where he was, after all, both Salazar and Harry had been in the hospital wing too many times to count.
Hogwarts, sensing that he was awake, turned her attention to him and sent a jumbled mess of pictures and emotions. It took a while for Harry to sort out all the information and even then was not sure that he had gotten it completely right.
:You're saying: Harry communicated slowly::that you were upset that the wards were killing me and…something about magic…um, the magic got out of balance…and…WHAT: Hogwarts repeated the message with a little regret and embarrassment. :You sent me back in time? Twenty years: Harry translated, his mental voice weak. Hogwarts gave an affirmative response apologetically.
It was only then that Harry became aware of a voice speaking, "…from that, he seems fine. I'm going to go get the headmaster; you keep an eye on him and make sure that he doesn't move." There were the sounds of a person leaving the room, and someone else muttered under their breath.
Harry opened his eyes warily, but all he saw was a black blur against the white of the hospital wing. He hurriedly fixed his vision and looked around. The hospital wing was almost exactly the same as it would be in twenty years, the only difference being that the shelves carrying various bottles of potions would become a bit fuller as more potions were invented.
He was distracted from his musings when the black blob that Harry now saw was a boy, fifth or sixth year by the look of him, turned to face him. It took all the experience with masks that Salazar had not to let any recognition cross his face, as he saw who it was. Why, of everyone in the castle, did it have to be Snape that found him? They studied each other for a minute, each waiting for the other to speak. It was Harry who spoke first,
"Where am I?" He asked, eyes carefully examining the room as if he had never been there before lingering on the door and on the old and worn bedside table, where he would usually expect to find his wand. Even as he did that, his mind whirled at top speed, thinking up an excuse to give the headmaster, who was probably on his way to the hospital wing, and changing his Occlumency walls to support this new story.
Severus wasn't sure what he was supposed to tell the boy: they were in the middle of a war, after all, but decided the truth couldn't hurt too much in this case – he was bound to find out sooner or later anyway, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." The strange boy's eyes seemed to light up in recognition at the name, and he relaxed, taking in the room with a lot more interest than before.
Harry opened his mouth to ask another question but, at that moment, the door of the hospital wing opened and Dumbledore walked in, followed by Madam Pomfrey.
"Ah, our unexpected guest," Dumbledore said, catching sight of Harry, "My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and I'm the head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where we are right now."
"My name is Evan Harrison, sir," Harry said. "Dumbledore…I think I heard that name before…did you once teach Transfiguration?"
Severus's jaw dropped before he could stop it. This boy had never heard of Dumbledore? He quickly closed his mouth, sliding his mask back in place. How could he have never heard of the Albus Dumbledore?
"Yes, I did," Dumbledore said cheerfully, "Who told you?"
"M-my mother," Harry said, his voice trembling a little.
"Ah, I see, and what is your mother's name?" the Headmaster enquired kindly.
"Was my mother's name, sir," Harry corrected quietly, "She died last month."
"Her name?" persisted Dumbledore.
"H-h-her n-name w-was…" the patient started, rubbing imaginary tears from his eyes.
"Albus!" Madam Pomfrey interjected sharply, "He's been through enough tonight! Don't make him relive an obviously painful memory! He's my patient and he needs sleep!" She seemed to forget that he was in perfectly fine health.
"My apologies, Poppy, I momentarily forgot that he was a patient here," Dumbledore said, "I shall speak to him in the morning. Mr. Snape, can I have a word with you in my office? Good night Poppy, Mr. Harrison." And with that he left the office.
"Bye," Severus said to the boy as he headed after the headmaster.
"And you, young man. I don't know what you've been doing, but it was obviously very dangerous. Children these days don't seem to understand what can be harmful and what can't," she sighed, "Well, good night Mr. Harrison. Would you like a dreamless sleep potion?"
"Yes please," Harry said, in a shy voice. She handed the bottle to him and, yawning, bade the boy good night once more, before leaving the office.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"You wanted to talk to me, Headmaster?" Severus asked politely.
"Yes. May I ask what you were you doing outside of bed in the middle of the night?" Dumbledore asked.
Snape had anticipated that question and spoke the prepared lie easily,
"I couldn't sleep, sir, so I was reading a book in the common room when I heard a noise outside. I've always thought that Potter and his friends knew where our common room was and I didn't want to be pranked, so I looked around a bit. I'm sorry for being out after curfew, but I was thinking more about preventing whatever prank I thought would occur."
"Very well," Dumbledore said, "I'd usually give you a detention for being out of bounds but, since your intentions were good, I'll let you off with a warning this once but I don't want to find that you've been out of your bed after curfew again, understand?"
"Perfectly, sir," Severus said simply.
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Harry was awoken the next morning by a couple of third years coming into the hospital wing with a victim of an exploded potion. He didn't hear very much of the conversation but he gathered it had something to do with a girl named Helen accidentally knocking something into her cauldron.
He stretched lazily, looking at the clock, which read 10:43. Doing some quick maths he calculated this to mean that he'd been asleep for about ten hours, give or take. Neither Harry nor Salazar had gotten that much sleep unhindered by nightmares for a long time and it felt nice to relax for a while.
"Oh good, you're awake," Madam Pomfrey said, walking over to him, "The Headmaster wants to see you. He'll be coming at around eleven o'clock if that is all right"
"I guess so," Harry replied, pretending to look nervous.
"It's nothing to be worried about," said the Mediwitch reassuringly, "He just wants to know why you're here so that he can help you."
"Thank you," Harry murmured.
"Whatever for?"
"Well you healed me, didn't you?"
She gave him an odd look,
"Nobody healed you. When we found you, you were perfectly fine, lying in the dungeons."
Arranging his features in a practicedly confused expression, the boy spoke again,
"But someone healed me! I mean, I was injured pretty badly, wasn't I?"
"We're not sure who or what healed you, Mr. Harrison, but there is no doubt that your injuries were serious in nature," Madam Pomfrey explained.
"Madam Pomfrey?" Someone called from the door.
"I need to go now. Remember, the Headmaster will be in here at eleven o'clock to speak to you," said the nurse, rushing over to a little girl with pigtails whose arms were covered in a fluorescent green rash.
At exactly eleven o'clock, Dumbledore came through the door and walked over to the bed Harry was lying in.
"Mr. Harrison, I hope you're feeling better," the Headmaster said, smiling.
"Much better, thank you sir," he replied politely.
"Good, good. Well, first things first, I suppose: I need to know why you're here and then we can figure out what to do."
Harry took a deep breath and began his story,
"M-my mother and I lived in the Muggle world for almost as long as I can remember. My mother never told me what happened to my father, just that he died a long time ago. We were very poor, and moved around a lot, so I never really did go to a magical school. I learned a bit of magic when I was very young, back when we lived in partially magical villages as well as Muggle ones.
Then Mother heard about Voldemort and became very frightened. She took me into hiding in the Muggle world and we lived there for years. She died in a car crash, though, last month. The Muggles tried to put me in an orphanage," Harry sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, careful to position it so that Dumbledore couldn't see the lack of moisture, "It was horrible there. I-I wasn't thinking straight, just that I had to get out of there.
I ran away and I guess instinct took me here. Mother used to speak of Hogwarts, you see, and she said it was a wonderful place, always open to everyone. I got lost and ended up in that horrible forest, and I heard something; an animal of some kind, I think. I was so frightened and I kept running and running and running.
Something with claws hit me from behind but I kept moving for as long as I could…it slashed me up pretty good, I think…I don't really remember much after that…I sort of remember running into the castle and looking for help…and I got lost in this huge maze of stone passageways…" Harry trailed off helplessly, "And that's all I know."
"Mr. Harrison, you present me with quite an unusual problem," Dumbledore said, "I will do what I can to sign you up as a student here, if that is what you wish."
Harry stared, eyes saucering,
"You-You really would, sir?"
"Of course," Dumbledore said, his crystal blue eyes twinkling as frustratingly as ever.
"Thank you!" the pupil-to-be exclaimed.
Dumbledore chuckled,
"I'll need to know how old you are…"
"Sixteen, sir," Harry replied quickly.
"Good, good…I've got a lot of work to do, but I expect we can sort you into a house by tonight. Good day, Mr. Harrison and I hope that you feel better."
Harry watched Dumbledore exit the hospital wing, not bothering to point out that he was in perfect health. That was extremely easy, He thought, lying back on the bed to amusedly watch the fiasco of the green skin potion further unfold and absently wondering which house he was going to be placed in. After all, he was both Slytherin and Gryffindor.
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