Verus

10th century, Hogwarts Castle

“Snakelet!”

Harry’s eyes widened comically at the booming sound of Salazar’s jarring voice. He had just ducked into one of the courtyard’s many alcoves, hidden from view, but he knew better than to believe that Sal wouldn’t find him- the man had gotten this far, even whilst being covered in the thick mud Harry had conjured up to hang over the dungeon’s entrance. And by the sound it, he didn’t seem too thrilled about that fact.

“I know it was you.” Sal grunted out and Harry heard him flick away a wad of sludge- he was far too close. “Was it Godric that put you up to these forsaken tricks? I thought you to be smarter than that.”

With a wince, Harry tried to muster up a sheepish smile as he moved to unveil himself- better to just get it over with, he thought- but felt that it didn’t quite come off that way, especially upon seeing the expression that dawned on Sal’s face.

The boy immediately captured his bottom lip between his front teeth to keep the sudden hysteria he felt from bubbling up out of his mouth, knowing that the potions master would not take too kindly to being openly mocked.

Salazar’s narrowed leer zoomed in on Harry as the boy warily approached, though he was smart enough to keep a safe distance between them.

“Well?” Demanded Salazar, but Harry had no real answer for him, his lips thinned uncomfortably as he watched an obscene amount of muck fall from the older wizard’s right shoulder and hit the slabbed floor they stood on with a splat. A seething hiss escaped the older man, and like the true serpent he was, Sal reared back, ready to strike.

“I’m… sorry?” Harry finally uttered once he felt as though his mirth had dampened enough to not allow a trickle of laughter to seep into his voice.

“Was that a statement, or rather a question?”

Harry grimaced and let his eyes drop to his feet before he slowly gazed back up at the stern man.

“Oh no, you do not.” Sal immediately said, waving off Harry’s quick attempt at a cherubic expression. “You are far too old to be pulling those eyes at me, child, they no longer work! You would have a better chance at hunting down and then taming a nundu, than weaselling your way out of this one.”

All signs of fake innocence were then swept away as an amused grin crept along Harry’s lips. The boy shrugged, feigning an artless air of nonchalance as he let a fingertip trail across an indent in one of the courtyard’s mossy bricks.

“We really ought to get the elves out here early next spring,” Harry commented casually as he wiped away the residue which lined his fingers, “This courtyard could do with some work, do you not think?”

“Harrison.” Salazar all but growled just as a clump of mud slipped from his slick dark hair and past his nose. “Do not test me.”

It took all of Harry’s strength for him to not roll his eyes at the threat, although still thoroughly amused. He looked back over at the wizard stood before him and with a simple wave of his arm the remaining mud vanished, leaving a rather irritated looking Slytherin behind.

“You truly are no fun.” Harry practically pouted as he made to walk away. Salazar was far too quick though, and he caught the adolescent by the shoulder before he could take another step. Harry huffed unhappily.

“Oh I can have fun, Snakelet. As a matter of fact, I just had a marvellous idea!” Sal retorted, an all too familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Helga has made a fair few complaints about the Hippogriff stables needing a new lick of paint as well as a good clear out, I am quite sure she would be thrilled to have you aid her.”

Harry groaned inwardly at the very thought and then scowled up at the man. Salazar had just begun to steer them back into the castle. “It was a harmless act, Sal! If anyone should be mucking out Hippogriff manure, it should be Merlin! He was the one to give me the idea.”

Sal peered down at him, and although Harry nearly matched his height now- having hit another growth spurt the summer of his fourteenth birthday- the man still felt that much taller. He simply radiated power, it seeped out of his pores in tidal waves.

“Merlin, you say?” Salazar hummed darkly, hand still clutching the shoulder of Harry’s robes as they took the next upcoming turn which led them down past the castle's west tower, where many of the owls were housed, and out onto the grounds.

Harry nodded, all too relieved to sell Merlin down the river, “I wanted to know the difference in traditions between our world and theirs- you know, with tonights Samhain ritual fast approaching…”

Sal’s grip loosened a notch upon hearing that, enough so that Harry could wipe the wrinkles the man had created out of his robes. “It is your world, too. Try to remember that.”

The boy turned his face away and only acknowledged the wizard’s words with an unintelligible murmur. He felt more than heard Salazar’s quiet sigh.

“Still,” Sal continued on as though nothing had been said, “your excuse does not exceed your actions- though, your revelation has allowed me to begin formulating a plan of action for Merlin’s imminent arrival.”

The young boy’s eyes snapped back up to meet Sal’s head on, his upper lip curled and mouth somewhat agape. “You cannot be serious- you would honestly have me out on dung duty? The mud wasn’t even that bad, Sal! Plus, I cleaned it all up!”

Salazar merely raised a brow in return and the twirling flames from the bonfire burning brightly up ahead, just within the forest’s borders, made him look a lot more menacing in the late evening light.

“And what of the trail I created wandering around aimlessly after you? Did you banish that mess also?” The older man quizzed as they breached a line of trees. He smirked when he received no verbal reply and watched as the boy sniffed rather haughtily. “As I predicted. You can also help the castle’s elves with supper tomorrow, seeing as they will be the ones to clear away your tasteless trick.”

Harry balked at him. “Tasteless? Well now I just know you’re lying!”

“Oh it would be you- out of all of us- to catch Sal in a lie, wouldn’t it, young one?” Came Godric’s mirth-filled shout, Harry looked in the direction the voice had echoed from and found the man stood within a large circle of salt. “Do tell, what has he done this time around?”

Harry was released from Salazar’s hand then and came to a pause just on the outskirts to watch the wizard join Rowena by a table full of conjured ingredients.

“I have done nothing, neither is it any of your concern, Godric.” Sal drawled humourlessly, without even a backwards glance.

Godric huffed out a merry laugh, before he quirked a questioning brow at the boy who had since sidled up to him to get a better look at the oversized scroll he held within his grasp.

“I’ll show you the pensieve later.” Harry assured him in a hushed whisper, quelling the man’s inquisitive nature. He then raised his chin slightly, enough to see a cycle of blood red runes etched into the scroll’s ageing parchment. “Is this part of tonight’s ritual?”

With a throaty hum, Ric dipped his head to focus back on the diagrams. “It would seem as though it is my turn to draw out the runes this year. It’s a menace of a task but incredibly important, if I make one measly mistake I could end up endangering us all.”

Harry titled his head to get a clearer analysis, he snorted after a brief moment and pointed towards a small rune sat on the twelfth line. “Seems so. Look, if you forget to add that tiny little line right there you could conjure an all out war, or worse, kill us.”

Godric paled slightly at that realisation and Harry had to bite back his smile as he shook his head and headed over towards where Rowena and Salazar were setting up, bickering good-naturedly between themselves.

“Need any help?” He questioned and was gifted an adoring smile from the former, who grasped his chin gently between her fingers before she gestured over towards a hefty wicker basket filled with all kinds of fruit.

“Will you carry that over towards the fire for us? Helga will be here in a few short moments, she will want to get a head start on the festivities.”

Harry simply nodded and avoided Sal’s apprising eye as he rounded the man to lift the basket.

“Will Merlin be accompanying her on her journey down?” The dark haired wizard queried and Harry laughed quietly to himself as he traipsed over towards the centre of the clearing.

The sizeable fire that had been lit warmed his skin as he settled the fruit down about a metre away. His attention was quickly caught by the hazy flames which danced in the late October wind, they climbed high, blurred by an aura of electric blue that could only have been caused by a mixture of magics. Harry was utterly enraptured and used the time before Helga and Merlin’s arrival to just stand and observe the blaring blaze. He breathed in the nights chilly air and felt the usual thrum of excitement course through his veins, Samhain had always been a favoured tradition of his.

—

The darker months seemed to pass them by in a snowy haze. The cliffs the castle sat upon were painted a glossy white and shrouded in misty clouds, the tantalising fog only further proved to add to the dreamlike essence that often enveloped the grounds. They celebrated yule as one in their usual grand but effortless way, gifts were handed out, thanks were received, and love was spread in endless bounds.

Winter blossomed into early spring, which only seemed to flee within the blink of an eye. It brought life back to the surrounding fields and the vast forests, and conjured up colour throughout the castle and its neighbouring towns. The wildlife chirped endlessly and fruit littered the trees, Harry had a hard time focusing on much else.

But by the time July finally arrived, summertime was in full bloom. The skies were almost as blue as the lake which stretched on for as far as the eye could see, and Helga’s greenhouses were wild and alive, which really meant that they were a right pain to handle.

Believe it or not, even the dungeons were bathed in a watery sunlight during the daytime, causing a few of the Black Lake’s more genial creatures to visit the extravagant windows Salazar had been so adamant on installing.

Julys coming was also joined by many a celebration. Litha, or rather the Summer Solstice, where the sun was often at its greatest strength, had just occurred and its power had carried in from late June. The founders had honoured the holiday grandly, Helga had performed a small light rite each day and there had also been a shocking amount of food made for the feasts that had been set up outside. Harry had thoroughly enjoyed the luminous energy as well as the magic which had buzzed throughout the air.

The end of Litha meant that Lammas was fast approaching, which also meant that the first of the three harvest festivals would soon begin. It was a tradition Harry typically looked forward to, but this year, things were due to be different.

The last days of July were a time dedicated mainly to him, as they had been since before he could remember. The founding four, alongside Merlin, always made the thirty-first a day to remember. To them he was a gift, a child of magic, and a person to be celebrated. The day always came with many presents as well as lots of love and laughter, but there was also a whole lot of gratitude on Harry’s part too.

But this birthday, well it was his sixteenth.

Which meant that he was on the thin cusps of adulthood, merely a year away from becoming a Lord to the houses he was an apparent heir to, and only a year away from having to pave his own path into the vastly expanding world.

Harry- although having been blessed with a certain air of humility, he’d quite like to state- was powerful and exceedingly intelligent. His time spent with the four founders and within the castle walls themselves had given him a knowledge others his age, and perhaps even older, may have only ever dreamt of. He had been given such an insightful gift, not only of intellect, but of adoration and affection too. He had been given a place to call home, and better yet, the understandings of what a family truly should be even after having had his parents ripped away so early on.

Knowing all of this and truly coming to terms with it- well, it didn’t help at all when Harry realised that this would be the last year he would get to spend any holidays, let alone his birthday, with the people he loved the very most.

Birds chirped sweetly outside his bedroom window as Harry opened his eyes, unaware of the inner conflict he warred with. He had known that this time was imminent and that everyone he held dear was still so close, but he already feared the days end. For that was when things finally changed. That was when he was due to part from everything he had ever known.

Oh, how he longed for the eleven year old boy he’d once been, sat on that rickety old bridge prepared to say his goodbyes. It felt almost cruel having gotten to spend these few extra years with everyone. At eleven, he might’ve adapted. At sixteen, now on the verge of becoming a man, he was expected to understand. To not make a fuss of things.

If only he could say that that would be the case, but the thought of leaving, even after having known that this would eventually occur, to him it was the purest form of torture.

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut, the vision behind his lids blurred for a moment and rapidly the yellow morning light was shed away, quickly replaced by a swirl of immense darkness, of emptiness. Of, nothingness. A void he felt would be better described as a black hole, pulling, pulling, pulling until…

“Is the Little master awake now?”

The unexpected high-pitched voice startled Harry upwards, his eyes ripped back open and the sheets of his bed flew every which way in his haste to sit up.

“Gods, Saiple! You scared the wits out of me!” Harry exclaimed upon seeing the pint-sized house elf who stood at the foot of his bed.

Saiple, was favoured throughout the castle, she was cheeky when necessary but otherwise quite shy in common company. It meant that Harry couldn’t help the soft smile he gave her as he swung his legs over the edge of his mattress and greeted her properly.

“I was only wantings to know, Little master!” Saiple stressed, her big doe eyes enlarged by the length of her lashes. “My Mistresses be calling upon Saiple to retrieve you, my Master said to wake the Little snake if needs doing. Take action, he’s been saying to me.”

The elf nodded once, rather promptly Harry noted, and then gazed back up at him. She emphasised her stare upon remembering herself and then hurried over to shoo Harry away from the bed.

Harry laughed lightly as he stumbled into the washroom alone, leaving Saiple to tend to his linens, it was there that he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of immense dread. It was rather a sickly feeling, as though a hole had just been created in the pit of his stomach and its only purpose was to slowly drain him of every good thing.

It made him pause.

He blinked and found himself gazing into the reflection bared before him, at the image he, alongside his family, had shaped. The mirrors silver glass stared back at him mercilessly, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to tear his gaze away.

The boy stood within its four sharp lines was so immensely different to the person he thought he’d turn out to be. His hair was as black as a raven’s feathers, its waves crept over the line of his broad shoulders like ivy, sleek and just long enough to tie back. The green of his eyes were a stark contrast to his many dark features, they were normally so bright and alive, but this morning they looked somewhat sunken, hidden behind heavy lids and oil-black lashes. The skin beneath them was bruised from many nights of stilted sleep, and it was those circles that emphasised the vivid scarlet which rimmed his waterline and exaggerated the sharp hollows of his cheeks.

A few stubborn strands of stray hair had since fallen into his face- which he’d now come to expect- and casted ashy shadows against his warm complexion, darkening his features even further. Harry let his tongue wet the muted pink shade of his lips. They were dry, bitten from hours of relentless anxiety and worry, but parted just enough so that his hot breath fanned and fogged the mirrored glass.

For a second, Harry simply observed his face.

It was unlined by worry, sharp but still somehow softened by his youth. His skin had yet to know the cruel kiss of a razor’s blade but was marred by a mark of magic. Dark, powerful magic, but magic all the same.

Briefly, he wondered what he’d look like, had he been raised differently, in a world where he hadn’t been so lucky.

Harry took a deep shuddering breath with that thought, because it was just that, he was lucky, incredibly so, to have been graced with this life here. He needed to remember that, cling onto that fact throughout the rest of the day. It was the only way he could see himself getting through.

So with a heavy heart, Harry bathed, changed into the clothes Saiple had set out for him, and plastered on a smile. Because today was no longer just about him, if these were the last few hours he got to spend with his family, then he was going to make sure that they were the best hours of his life.

—

“Oh for goodness sake, Godric!” Rowena attempted to rebuke whilst also trying- and failing- to stifle another round of joyous laughter. “Get down from there this instant, before you end up mauling yourself!”

“You would think he’d know better at his age,” Salazar commented under his breath, “especially after last years fiasco.”

Helga snorted softly beside him.

“Perhaps. He was bruised for weeks, even with the aid of your many potions.”

Hearing that, Sal caught her eye with a gleaming gaze and smirked. Helga’s eyes widened on their own accord, “Salazar, you did not!”

The Slytherin snickered and jumped away to dodge the onslaught of scolding hands that tried to rebuke his previous actions.

“I cannot believe you! You utter heathen!” Helga cried, but she could not seem to dampen her bright grin, nor her giggles.

“What’s happened now?” Harry asked the blonde witch with an amused grin, having just landed beside them in an effortless grace only he could ever seem to muster on a broom.

Helga’s eyes were teasing as she turned towards the birthday boy, who’s stare was locked between the two of them. “Oh, you needn’t worry. I was simply reminded of how truly conniving some Slytherin’s could be!”

Harry huffed out a soft laugh as he observed the duo for a moment longer before leaving them to their own devices and sidling up to where Rowena stood. The dark haired witch was still tittering away, watching closely as Godric skimmed high over the castle on a broom of his own, only narrowly managing to avoid the weathervane which sat atop the east wing’s tower.

“He is going to get himself killed!” Rowena declared as she pushed up onto the balls of her feet, loud enough that Ric had overheard as he breezed over their heads, the man cackled freely.

“You only wish that it was you up on this broom instead, my dear!”

The witch rolled her eyes in fond amusement as she shook her head, “I know better than to test my limits- how old are you now, Godric?”

“I have said it before, and will say it again, I am not a man defined by age!”

“And I will not be the one to grow back his bones when this all goes awry.” Rowena said conspiratorially to Harry as her calculating eyes continued to track Godric’s daring movements, “He always makes such a childish fuss of it all.”

“He’s fond of the attention.” Harry retorted with an airy chuckle.

Rowena laughed with him and shuffled closer just as Ric bypassed them again at a dizzying speed, their shoulders brushed.

Harry used the moment to simply admire the woman, to make sure that he’d be able to conjure up her warm smile within his memories. He took off again on his broom before she could take notice though and zoomed upwards to lap Godric on his third round of the large lake, then flew back down to grin at the witch as he passed by.

—

It was just as Harry had started on his second helping of treacle tart that a chorus of cheers caused his attention to divert. He blinked upwards and spotted the familiar figure of Merlin making his way down the hillside, the founders were all beckoning him over and tutting at his habitual tardiness.

Harry rushed to inhale the rest of his sweet treat so that he could join in on their merry calls, grinning widely. Merlin merely waved them all off as he waltzed over, clad in a beautiful set of cerulean robes which he’d paired with his usual smile, it brightened upon seeing Harry’s own.

“Harry.” Merlin greeted with pride as he gripped the boy- who was practically now a man- by his shoulders. “Sedecim and still I remember the unhappy pout you wore as a tiny babe the night we first met.”

Harry mouth lifted upwards in another smile he could not seem to help and his hand came to rest at the great wizard’s elbow. “And here I thought people were only supposed to hear good things about themselves on their birthdays! How did your trip go?”

“Ah, let us not speak of me, today is all about you.” Merlin replied swiftly as he turned to guide Harry away from the group, he smiled in acknowledgement at the founders who all returned his sentiment at a varied pace. “How does it feel then, to be so close to adulthood, to have lived just over a decade and a half on this great earth?”

Harry found amusement in the older man’s words. “Are you mocking me, Merlin?”

“Me? My dear, I would never!” Merlin spoke but the mirth there was evident, hidden in the depths of his bright eyes. “Tell me, have you yet perfected your ability to apparate like we practiced?”

Harry nodded in response, pleased that he could finally respond to that question with an answer he was proud of. “It took some time to master but with Rowena’s added help I grasped it quite quickly- in fact, I made it to Lundenwic and back earlier this week. Sal followed just in case- though he disguised it badly as wanting to get a look in at the new trading offers- but I believe I faired well enough. Though, some more practice wouldn’t go amiss.”

Merlin beamed at him, “I am glad to hear it.”

The two of them wandered the grounds for a while longer, talking aimlessly about this and that, but Harry knew that there had been an actual reason for Merlin to have diverted him away from the rest of the festivities so early on.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s been plaguing your mind now?”

Merlin didn’t immediately react to his question, merely blinked out at the vast landscape set before them. The skies were cloudless, the sun shone high above them. When the man finally spoke his voice was sombre, more serious than Harry had ever heard it before.

“I know that you have understood for a long while now that this will be your last day here.”

Harry watched him for a long moment, and fought to keep his breathing regulated. He nodded curtly.

“I have.”

“Do you also know what your departure entails for the life you have made here?”

Harry swallowed thickly. “It means that I will not be able to return. Not any time soon, at least.”

Merlin hummed lowly, and even though Harry had known that his assumption was correct, it still devastated him to hear. “It would seem so, my dear.”

The two of them basked in the soft silence that then encompassed them, Harry lost in his thoughts until Merlin finally raised his arm outwards to point over towards a patch of grassy land in the far distance.

“In your time, that is where the school’s Quidditch Pitch will stand- and there, just over that hill, a small village will grow and blossom. The school children spend many of their weekends there, it’s filled with an array of shops which sell a variety of things, from school supplies and clothing to dizzying chocolates and practical jokes. It even homes a few taverns, though I am rather sure that you will quickly find that out for yourself. And then, far past Helga’s greenhouses- which I believe still stand- will live a tree, violent in nature but oh so very valuable. It holds a fair few secrets of its own, most of which I am certain you will discover during your time spent at Hogwarts.”

Harry blinked at the onslaught of information, “Is that even safe?”

Merlin laughed in return. “Of course not, my dear! But I have told you of the school’s current Headmaster, so take that into consideration if you will.”

With a grimace, Harry’s eyes enlarged briefly at the sudden reminder of the wizard he had heard both so much and so little about. He was certain that there were many a tale which surrounded the old man. But knew he could wait to hear them all.

“And the castle itself, has anything else changed?”

Merlin turned to him with a fond smile, “Everything changes, my dear. But to diminish your worries, no, not much differs within the castle’s walls.”

The two of them used the pause which passed between them to begin their slow descent back, soaking up the warm July sun.

“How will it all work when I have to leave, will you accompany me?” Harry asked as his green gaze flitted over the surrounding shrubbery. “I only fear that I’ll be expected to just know what to do once I arrive.”

Merlin chuckled lightly and a comforting hand came to rest upon Harry’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that to you, my dear, so do not fret. You are correct to assume that I will be joining you, though you must understand that I won’t be able to stay for very long. The timelines won’t allow it and the fates won’t show me much condolence on the matter.”

“Right…” Harry mumbled under his breath. His hard stare did not divert and so Merlin squeezed his arm gently.

“I have been preparing for this day for as long as I can remember. I may be an old man, but have a little faith, Harry.”

Harry couldn’t disguise his huff of laughter. He set his sights on the wizard and shook his head with a soft smile. “As if you would give me any other choice.”

“Ah, finally you understand! And I am proud to announce that it has only taken you fifteen years.”

Harry snorted, “At least I can say that I have come to terms with the fact, you’ll continue to have a hard time getting Sal to realise it, let alone listen.”

Merlin chuckled at his words, “It would seem so. Still, I trust that he soon will.”

Harry merely hummed in retort. He didn’t feel too confident in that regard.

—

Laughter could still be heard from far behind him as Harry trailed down a long winding path which led towards the skirtings of the forest. He smiled lightly to himself as his boots kicked at the rocky gravel.

The day, so far, had been one of the best he’d had in a very long time. They had spent the morning wreaking havoc in the castle’s kitchens- much to the elves’ demise- conjuring up all sorts of monstrosities. Godric had been so determined to make a pastry from the recipe book his mother had always favoured when he had been a child- although he could just about crack an egg- and Helga had wanted to add every sort of seasoning within grabbing distance to all the dishes they’d made.

Ultimately, the five of them had ended up having an early lunch instead of the breakfast they’d original planned after they had finally been driven out by the kitchen’s elves. The creatures had been all too happy to toss their inventions out and start work on a proper meal.

After lunch, Godric had challenged Harry to an all out duel which the latter had come fairly close to winning, but the redhead never went easy on him, not even his birthday it seemed, and so ultimately won even with a few close calls.

Ric had been overly thrilled by his swordsmanship though, commended him more than once on his stance and skill, and Harry had listened intently to every bit of advice the man had had to offer him.

Both Helga and Rowena had been busy setting up the ‘small’ affair they had promised him out on the grounds that afternoon. The two witches had called upon a couple good friends of theirs to help get everything ready in time for the moment both Ric and Sal had finally run out of things to keep Harry entertained with.

It had been an incredibly lovely surprise, seeing as Harry hadn’t expected it in the very least. But small wasn’t a word he would have used to describe the party. The founders had brought along all kinds of animals, set up a grand picnic alongside the lake, spelled instruments to play every type of song, and had even gone as far as to set off sparks of fiery magic into the air to spell out a birthday message for him in the sky.

By the time the castle’s elves had gathered around to bare him their gift and sing an odd rendition of Happy Birthday, Harry had been all too aware of his growing emotions and once it had seemed as though everyone was having fun, he had slipped away to take a much needed break from all of the celebrations.

He decided to take perch on an oversized rock just on the edge of the forest, one where he felt shrouded by all the tall trees and had the ability to look out at the glistening water below.

Harry must have been sat there for a little longer than intended because he noted that the sun had begun to dip just as his senses heightened.

Turning his ear towards the surrounding trees, Harry allowed himself to close in on a faint rustling he heard, it was almost too faint for any human to hear but the wolf within gave him that extra aid.

Cautiously he stood and rounded the boulder, inwardly cursing himself for having left his wand within his chambers that same morning. Although he still very much preferred casting without it, Sal had drummed it into his thick skull that his wand was a fixed point which only proved to strengthen his magic. Harry wasn’t sure he quite believed the man, but didn’t much feel like testing the theory in a real life situation.

“Who’s there?” Harry called out, willing his rising heartbeat to calm as he trailed his eyes across the forest’s many openings. “Reveal yourself!”

A susurration had Harry’s head snapping over to the left and he felt his stare narrow upon spotting the broad beast that stepped out from behind a hawthorn tree.

Instantly, Harry recognised the creature from one of Helga’s many teachings, but had never had the opportunity to meet one of its kind before now.

The centaur stood strong and tall in the wavering shadows, Harry found that its upper torso was humanlike, a man to the waist with long flowing white hair and astonishingly blue eyes, but below he bared the body of a horse, its coat glistened in the dimming sun.

As the centaur took a calculated step forward, Harry caught sight of the bow he carried on his back. The young wizard’s eyes flashed between the weapon and the creature’s expressionless face, his mind racing.

Harry focused himself though and made sure not to make any sudden moves that could be seen as threatening. He recalled learning about how territorial centaurs could be by nature, they held a certain sense of honour and were immensely proud of their species, which meant that they did not take lightly to threats. Although, if he remembered correctly, they were also unwilling to harm the young. Harry simply hoped that the centaur would understand that he was of no danger or inconvenience to him and move along, back to its herd.

Whilst studying the creature, Harry seemed to realise that he was also being observed in return. The centaurs blue eyes were intelligent as they traced his figure, and though his expression did not differ, Harry could tell that the centaur would not outwardly harm him. Not unless he was given a reason to.

“Are you lost?” Harry found himself asking, he kept his entire being still as the centaur took another step closer but he didn’t dare allow his eyes to fall away.

The creature blinked languidly before he lowered his head ever so slightly. “No, I am not lost, young one.”

Harry fought every fibre of his being not to swallow too harshly at the sound of the creature’s voice, it was velvety and smooth but ever so deep. He nodded slowly instead.

“I have never encountered your kind before, your colonies tend not to stray too far from the depths of the forest.” Harry revealed, attempting to keep his own voice steady. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Harry had no other real guesses as to why the creature might have sought him out, or even approached him otherwise.

He couldn’t stop himself from jumping slightly when the centaur swiftly turned but watched closely as it trailed closer to the hills edge. Harry felt the overwhelming urge to follow and did so with caution, only after a moments hesitation.

When he was stood a little more than an arms width away from the centaur, it decided to speak again.

“I have had many visions of you, young wizard.” The centaur told him and Harry had to hold his breath for a long second before he could find the right words to say.

“Of me?”

“Yes,” The centaur confirmed, admiring the rocky shores which crashed below. “Of you.”

Harry dipped his head in acknowledgment. Helga had mentioned more than once that centaurs were known to be vastly gifted in the art of Diviniation, that most, if not all, were natural born seers in their own way. Only Harry couldn’t think of a single reason as to why this centaur would be having visions involving him, ones that caused the creature to voluntarily seek him out.

“I was not certain that I would be able to catch you before you departed.” The centaur added after he’d been met with silence, he tilted his head to peer down at Harry.

“You knew I’d be leaving.” Harry commented foolishly, though the centaur did not call him out on it, merely traded him a small smile.

“Yes.” Said the centaur as he steered his body enough so that he could look Harry head on. “It would seem that you hold a lot of power for someone so young. My visions, they tell me of a future, not of now, nor the morrow, but of a thousand years from this very eve. Though in them, you stand, having not aged a day.”

Harry looked away from the creature upon hearing that and stared out at the rippling waves. “Will you tell me what you have seen?”

The centaur shook his head, its silvery waves cascaded down the smooth expanse of his back and shoulders as he did. “I cannot, I merely came to warn you, young one.”

Harry blinked back up at the being, “Warn me? Of what?”

The creature met his gaze and Harry could see the wisdom which loomed within his pearly pools. “There will be many dangers on your journey, you may think it best not to trail through the grassy plains where serpents may lie, but they will not hide their true intentions, child. Instead they will guide. It is those you may least suspect that will turn on you. Do not take to the fanciful tales you are told, the truth will prevail in the end.”

Harry could only nod dumbly, mind full of so many questions, many to which he knew he would not receive answers to. It was just as Harry went to speak again that an unexpected shout disturbed them, it wasn’t far off but it was close enough to have the centaur on his guard. The creature turned back to Harry, face solemn once again.

“It was a pleasure to talk to you, youngling. I am grateful we got to meet before you were due to leave these parts.” The centaur said as he began to pull away, already retreating back towards the woodlands. “You would do your best to remember, Harry Potter, that you are not someone to be weaponised. You must carve your own telling, understand?”

Harry blinked at the suddenness of the creatures departure and it took him longer than he’d care to admit to realise that the centaur had just used his given name.

“Wait!” Harry called out just as the centaur paused along the tree line. “You never gave me your name.”

The creature observed him a moment longer and then smiled, “My name is Oslac. Take care of my brothers and sisters for me when you arrive, Harry Potter, their future does not look promising.”

The distinct sound of Salazar’s shout cut through their conversation, the man was rounding on them quickly now.

Oslac dipped his head in a courteous farewell and Harry couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward.

“I will do my best. Of that you have my word.” He promised the creature, “Thank you… Oslac.”

And then the centaur was gone, leaving a curious Harry behind only to be found by a slightly aggrieved Salazar.

“Fates, Snakelet! I have been beckoning you for almost a quarter of an hour, only to find you all the way out here.” Sal stressed, he shook his head at Harry as he hurriedly approached, robes billowing in the early evening winds. “What on earth caused you to stray so far?”

Harry gave the man a sheepish smile but quietly thanked him for the cloak he threw over his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Worry, over you?” Salazar scoffed, “Have you even met yourself?”

A soft involuntary laugh escaped Harry as Sal lead him back over to the rock he had been sat upon earlier, and watched as the man conjured up a patronus to send back to the others, informing them of his being found.

“I really am- sorry, I mean.” Harry repeated as he shuffled over slightly so that the man could take a seat beside him. “I hadn’t realised just how late it had gotten, it seems time flew away from me.”

Sal hummed in thought, “I know it’s not something I usually care for, but you seemed to be enjoying the party, or am I wrong in assuming so?”

Harry blanched and hurried to assure the man that what he believed was true. “No, of course I enjoyed it! It was brilliant, the most fun I’ve had in ages, especially upon seeing Merlin take a chance on that broom.”

With a derisive snort, having recalled the image, Sal agreed.

“Well, of that I am glad. Though the night is not over quite yet.”

And as he spoke the words, Harry watched as the wizard procured something from the linings of his robes, he furrowed his brow when Sal handed him over a dark wooden box which had been tied with a purple ribbon.

“What is this?” Harry asked as he thumbed the lid.

Salazar grinned, but surprisingly did not jump at the opportunity to utilise his love of sarcasm. No, he merely shrugged, which Harry thought was strange in itself, and nodded down at the gift.

“I know that everyone will be wanting to give you your presents before… well, before the night ends, but I figured I would hand you one part of your gift now, away from the all the others. They might think it a bit unfair of me to let you have more presents than we first agreed upon.”

Harry laughed quietly at Sal’s expression before he captured his lower lip between his teeth. He peered down at the box inquisitively and carefully tugged at the decorative bow, the ribbon came away easily and Harry bit down harder on his bottom lip upon the reveal of what sat within the contents of the box.

His eyes snapped up to meet Sal’s in obvious surprise.

“Really?” Harry breathed out, chest tightening in awe.

Sal’s face brightened immensely upon witnessing Harry’s reaction and he nodded, watching as the boy picked up the scaly creature inside with a gentle hand.

“Oh.” Harry whispered as a snake, no bigger than the palm of his hand, slithered across his fingertips. It was dark, practically all black, but as Harry held it up to get a closer look at its beauty the setting sun hit its skin and reflected light onto the tiny creature’s scales, revealing an array of colours.

Salazar nudged the wonderstruck boy’s arm, mindful of the serpent, and gestured over towards the box's lid where a reflective rainbow now glimmered. Harry’s eyes widened and he reached out to run a finger down the snake’s shimmering length, dismantling the colourful reflection for a mere second.

“A friend of mine, he has one of his own. Transported it back from one of his many trips to the continents, claimed he hadn’t the heart to leave it behind- there was somewhat of a story there, I assume. But, it recently gave birth to a litter of fifteen or so, sadly only seven survived a sennight.” Salazar explained to him, admiring the small creature. “When he wrote to question if I knew of any reliable caretakers… well, Snakelet, you were the first to come to mind. You truly are shaping up to be a promising young man and I figured you would fair well with a companion. Especially on this new venture of yours.”

When Salazar looked back up he was surprised by the expressive look which adorned Harry’s face and a rush of air was forced from him when the boy decidedly pulled him into a hearty embrace.

“Thank you.” Sal thought he heard Harry mumble into the shoulder of his robes. He chuckled lowly as he wrapped a protective arm around the young wizard he’d come to view as his own.

“You are most welcome, my child.”