The Other Time Travel Fic
Pairings: Salazar/Harry/Godric, Rowena/OC, Helga/OC
GG: gold-blond/blue - 21
HH: red/black - 20
RR: brown/grey - 23
SS: blue-black/amber - 20
HP: jet black/green - 22
GG: Air Mage ; Tamer
HH: Earth Mage ; Empath
RR: Water Mage ; Seer
SS: Fire Mage ; Parselmouth, Creator
HP: Platinum War Mage ; Parselmouth
Prologue
He didn't know what made him do it. Perhaps it was the stress, perhaps it was the familiarity, perhaps it was just the whole damn thing. He never asked to live while his parents were murdered before him; to grow up with a family that abhorred him and a quick-tempered uncle that loved nothing more than 'punishing' him for every little thing. He never even asked to be the savior of a whole damn people and get treated like the second Coming because of it.
He never asked for any of it. Not one little part.
But he still didn't know why he did it.
Harry stared around him. The village was noisy, busy people going about their busy lives as though they hadn't just been through war. But, Harry supposed, these people haven't just gone through war. These people haven't known the horrors that came with every sunrise, the pain of wondering whether that day would be your last, or the last of your friends... knowing if whether or not you would survive at all, and would you hold enough of your old self to stay sane if you did? But Harry knew that, knew all of it. He resented these people for not sharing the same pain he felt where he supposed he once had a soul.
As he stared around at these happy, busy, strangely-garbed people, he received quite a few stares himself. The robes he wore weren't common among their kind, few as they were. They were the ancient robes of the War Mage Clan, only... different somehow. The collar was lower, belt only encircling the waist, cape gone though the hood remained, shadowing his face somewhat, although it was better hidden by the silver mask that hid the entire left side. As well, the level stripe, the color indicating your power, instead of being worn across the shoulders was worn as the hem of the sleeves, robes, and collar. But it was also the color that drew their eyes: the grey-silver platinum, the highest any could ever go. None had ever reached that level who had survived.
Harry, used to it from home, ignored it. He stared the few blatantly staring at him in the eyes, or eye as one was hidden behind the mask, until they, fright in their eyes, looked away. The bitter harshness in his once lively emerald orb was something that even Voldemort had come to fear. They were the eyes of the fallen, of the broken who had, for no other reason than utter uncaring, gotten back up. The eyes of the damned.
He magicked away his level stripe. He had no use of it now. After a while, people stopped staring.
He wondered: Was this his punishment? For attempting to take his life, to leave a world he despised, he was sent here? Or was it a gift, a haven away from his pain and suffering, the expectancy he still had to live up to? Just how far back in time was he sent?
He was bumped into rudely from behind and his contemplation interrupted.
"Oh! Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry, sir. I wasn't watching where I was going."
He turned, glancing quickly at a slightly flushed girl. Her red hair reminded him painfully of a family he had failed, black eyes the same of the mentor he had lost. She was older than him, by a year at the most. She glanced into his eyes and her own widened; she hissed in a breath and took a step back and stumbled. He caught her arm and steadied her out of pure reflex
"I'm terribly sorry, sir," she repeated nibbling lightly on her lower lip in a mix of worry, fright, and apprehension.
"It's fine," he said. She flinched. Harry supposed why: he had not used his voice for many weeks; it was rough, husky from disuse. She bowed and backed away nervously, but he stopped her retreat by taking hold of her forearm.
"Tell me, where am I?" he demanded. She flinched again.
"Why, you're in Hogsmeade, sir," she answered him, a tremor of confusion lilting her voice. He furrowed his brow. He remembered Hogsmeade as being bigger, with more buildings, and... completely and utterly in ruin. "Are- are you fine, sir?" she asked hesitantly. He glanced sharply at her.
"Harry." She blinked, surprised.
"Begging your pardon?"
"Not 'sir'. Harry." Understanding dawned in her eyes and she relaxed when he let go of her arm. She smiled cautiously.
"Very well, then s-Harry. It's Helga, likewise," she curtsied. "Helga Hufflepuff." He glanced back at her sharply, and she looked both annoyed and startled. "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you before and in a town this size, it'd be a mite difficult not to know everyone." He shrugged uncaringly, wondering what he was going to do now that he was in this mess. He didn't know what he did in the first place that sent him here, and it wasn't like he really wanted to go back...
"You could say that," he answered her when he realized it'd been a few minutes since she had asked.
"Helga!" The girl turned at the voice and smiled brightly. Harry glanced over his shoulder. Another girl was running towards them, brown hair flapping behind her. Harry felt a pang. She slowed as she neared them, panting slightly. "Helga, there you are! I've been searching everywhere. You've had me in a right scare!" the girl admonished gently. Helga merely smiled innocently at her.
"Sorry, Ro. I didn't mean to frighten you." The older girl gave the red-head a stern frown and a quick hug.
"See that you don't do it again." Helga nodded. Ro took a double-take when she spotted Harry, eyeing his modified War Mage Clan robes and absent level stripe. "Who is this, Helga?"
"This is Harry, he's new. Harry, this is my best friend, Rowena Ravenclaw." Harry merely nodded, turning his gaze back toward the town so much unlike his own. The two girls exchanged glances, surprised and worried. They had both seen the emptiness in the visible eye, slowly destroying him from within. They knew only one other whom had had to deal with such pain.
"Just Harry?" Rowena said curiously. "Is there a surname?" Harry glanced back at her, annoyed.
"Not one I'd care to disclose," he said, voice somehow tense.
"I see," she said hesitantly. The friends exchanged looks again.
"Tell me," he said suddenly, looking around the small town, frowning. "Where is it I can find lodging for the night?"
"The inn's been full for days, I'm afraid," Helga said apologetically. "The next town over had a nasty flood and we've taken in as many we could while they repair the damage."
"You can stay at the castle." Both Harry and Helga looked at Rowena, Harry with a sharp shrewdness in his eye and Helga in surprise. "We've plenty of room there, and would be honored to house one of the War Mage Clan." His single eye pierced through her.
"Very well. But I am not of the Clan." They stared silently at each other for a moment. Rowena nodded sharply once and turned.
"Follow us. Helga," she turned to look at her bewildered friend, "please show our guest to the castle. I will fly ahead to have a room made." Helga nodded.
"Of course, Ro." Rowena smiled. With a small sound, she changed into an impressive, handsome eagle, and took off like a bullet toward the castle looming in the not-so far distance.
Scene:
Salazar grabbed his shoulder firmly, stopping him from leaving. Harry turned around and snarled at him.
"Release me," Harry hissed furiously in Parseltongue. Shocked, Salazar did so, staring at him with wide eyes.
"You are a Parselmouth?" he said, amazed that there existed one he didn't know of. Harry ignored the question and attempted to leave again. Godric blocked the door. Harry growled low in his throat.
"Move," he ground through clenched teeth. Godric stayed firmly planted. Salazar took hold of his shoulders again, only this time pinning him against the wall.
"You are not leaving until we are satisfied," Salazar said, ignoring the murderous look in the younger boy's eyes. "There is a mystery about you and we wish to solve it."
"I am not a puzzle for you to piece together!" Harry hissed, this time not in Parseltongue.
"Oh, you are indeed a very intriguing puzzle," Godric said from his position against the door. There was a strange glint in his eyes, mirrored by Salazar's. It made Harry feel like... prey.
In a sudden move, Salazar had moved his hands, now pinning Harry to the wall with his body, wrists pinned above him.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, suddenly wary. Salazar gave him leering parody of a grin and Harry saw Godric move over his shoulder.
"We are curious about more than your secrets," Salazar purred into his ear. Harry tensed as Salazar took his lobe between his teeth, nibbling it.