FIC: Gelosaþ in Écnesse ~ Harry Potter ~ Chapter 6/18 ~ Harry/Salazar

[batsutousai]

Title: Gelosaþ in Écnesse
Chapter: 6 of 18
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Harry/Salazar, Harry/OFC (Original Female Character)
Warnings: OCs, OoC, original character death, minor cliché-age, homophobia, racist actions and slurs (from secondary character), time travel
Summary: Caught in the backlash of Voldemort's Killing Curse, Harry is thrown through time to a world so very different from his own.

-0-0-
Disturbs Your Slumber
-0-0-

Harry and Salazar didn't speak about his attempts to find a way to send Harry back to the future again. They skirted the issue occasionally, either with Harry asking, "Found anything yet?" so very casually, or Salazar coming back from one of his day-long absences and saying, "No luck." The other Slytherins were surprisingly not curious about these exchanges, and Harry couldn't help but wonder at what they knew – or what they thought they knew – but their silence on the matter suited Harry, so he didn't bother them so long as they'd determined not to bother him.

Salazar had taken their argument to heart, at least to some extent. When he was going to be gone for an extended period of time – usually on the weekends, but he had been known to vanish after the Slytherins had classes with Rowena, since he had the next day free, while they had Roscoe – he would either leave Harry a note or inform him in person. He would also leave it to Harry to explain his absence to the other Founders – probably wise, considering Godric's continued fury at Salazar's vanishing acts.

Harry was a little surprised that the other Founders weren't throwing more of a fit over Salazar's disappearances. He mentioned that, in passing, to Helga one afternoon in early March, while they were working in the garden, and she explained, "Honestly, if you weren't one of his students, we probably would have. But you're capable of handling things without him around, so..."

Harry sighed and rubbed at his forehead, switching to English to mutter, "The idea was to enjoy time without them expecting miracles. Bloody Salazar."

Helga shrugged, making a guess at Harry's mutters based on his tone and Salazar's name. "It's not a bad thing to be trusted to handle your fellow students, Harry."

"I know." Harry smiled at her. "And I did it to myself, by keeping such a close eye on Duana, Conrad, and Kenny while we were wreaking havoc in the castle." Helga laughed quietly. "Still, I sort of wish it hadn't been needed."

"As do we all." Helga tugged particularly hard at a weed and let out an irritated huff. "I don't know what's so important that Salazar has to abandon his duty to hunt it down. Surely it could have waited until we send the children home for the harvests."

Harry shrugged. "Apparently not," he said without inflection.

Helga shot him a sideways glance. "Do you know what he's doing?"

Harry smiled tiredly. "Why would he tell a student what he won't tell his friends?" he wondered before moving off to work on a different section.

After the incident with Fane that first weekend, Harry had taken care to wear some sort of shirt to bed. It wasn't that he was ashamed by the overlapping marks on his back – they were more a mark of his survival, and a reminder to become better or he would die – he just didn't want to face any questions about them. Fane, thankfully, had avoided further questions about them, though Harry occasionally caught the other boy watching him with a sort of sad thoughtfulness. Times like that, Harry almost considered talking Salazar into teaching him Legilimency, despite his own moral objections to the art.

Morgan had continued to learn how to live with students of a lesser class. By the end of March, the other Slytherins generally liked him, and most students from the other Houses could at least put up with him, if they didn't actually get on with him.

Harry had continued to be pleasantly surprised by the companionship between the four Houses. While a large number of Ravenclaws tended to remain behind their books, a few of the younger ones started joining the other students during their fun on the weekends. Harry enjoyed weekends while there was snow playing referee and punishing wrong-doers by throwing snowballs at them until they ducked out of sight. There had been a few attempted revolts, but Harry was nothing if not resourceful, and he took care to not teach his fellow Slytherins every spell he knew – even going so far as to borrow books about spells from the room that could change shape and reading them at night – which meant they didn't always know how to block him.

Once the snow melted, the children started playing other outdoor games, like variations on tag and capture the flag. Harry didn't even have to suggest he not play; Mavis and Vail were quite firm in their belief that Harry was a cheat and he should stick with being referee (Harry had only laughed a little). On weekends when it was raining – Helga and Bernia threatened to ground anyone they caught going outside into the rain for the next three weeks – the children would put together a study group, shoving the House tables together and discussing what their teachers had them working on. Even the Ravenclaws joined these, acting more than a little snooty the first time, until they learned that Harry could rival Helena and Velda Kenward when it came to spell knowledge, and the other Slytherins weren't far behind, what with their regular study sessions on the weekends and mornings before Roscoe's lessons.

Lessons had continued about the same for Harry: Transfiguration and conjuration, charms, herbology, and magical defence were largely review, and arithmancy occasionally left his head spinning, but his other classes were fun. Harry continued to be surprised at how much he enjoyed potions with Salazar teaching them; he didn't hover around people or snap corrections, as Snape had, but gently corrected mistakes and explained how they were wrong. He was similarly helpful while teaching them healing magic, pausing to answer any questions to the fullest extent possible and never yelling at anyone, though he'd been known to get snarky if he'd answered the question already or thought it was obvious.

Lessons with Roscoe – Harry mentally referred to them as hand-crafting – had involved putting together furniture for another three weeks, including the table and chairs the Slytherins wanted for their common room and a couch, which was padded with transfigured blankets that Roscoe had then made them attach by hand. Once he felt they had enough furniture for the classrooms, Roscoe gave them a crash course in other forms of non-magical arts, including creating sculptures with clay, wood, or stone; throwing dishware; and painting. (Harry managed to throw a few good plates and a vase that he kept in his room with wild flowers. He failed miserably with painting, but he found he had a talent for sculpting – whittling, really – with wood and could occasionally be found out by the lake or curled up on the chair in his room with a block of wood and one of his knives.)

Non-magical defence classes with Godric and Bernia often ended with the group of Slytherins moaning about various sore muscles or complaining about the brutality of their teachers, but they were noticeably better and more comfortable with their chosen weapons by the time classes let out middle of June. Harry and Mavis were able to hit targets with their knives nine times out of ten, and while neither of them thought they could manage against Fane or Godric at close quarters, they could take down Vail and Morgan about as often as the two sword students could defeat them. All the students were also fairly certain that if they came across a spear, bow, sword, knives, or a smaller axe, they could hold their own. During their last class, Godric promised to let them at larger axes, crossbows, and flails when they returned. (When asked by an oddly grinning Fane if they'd learn whips, Godric had paused for a moment before saying, with great care, "We'll see.")

Before they'd really realised it, Litha – the summer solstice – was the next week and it was time for everyone to go back home to spend time with their families and help with the harvests over the next few months. Those students who were leaving left to pack the last of their things after breakfast, while those who would be staying – those who'd been in the castle for Yule – lazed around at a couple of the House tables. Harry had reminded Salazar about the uncertainty of Mavis' safety at home a couple weeks before and the Founder had nodded and said, "We've already seen to it."

When the students re-entered the Great Hall with their bags of things, the four Founders met them with sad smiles. "You'll be back before you know it," Helga said to the sad smiles they received in return.

"Each of you will be receiving two portkeys," Rowena announced coolly as Godric and Salazar started handing said portkeys out. "The one Godric gives you will return you to your home, then become inactive. The one Salazar is handing out will return you to Hogwarts at the appointed time. However, if you at any point during the holiday feel yourself to be in danger and need safety, breaking the portkey in half will immediately bring you and anyone touching it here. Do be careful with this feature."

"Remember to react first with the non-magical weapons you've learned," Godric reminded them seriously. "Only use your magic as a last resort or if you're certain it won't be traced back to you."

"Don't be stupid," Salazar added drily and the students let out nervous laughs.

Stretched out between Conrad and Ramona at the Hufflepuff table, Harry couldn't help but compare this grim warning to the orders to not use magic at all over the summer holidays in the future. 'Right now, it's about protecting yourself, but in my time, it's almost more about protecting the non-magicals. Now, in this day and age, the magical community lives hand-in-hand with extermination, and they know it. Is it ignorance or a sense of superiority that has the wizards and witches of the future believing themselves untouchable? Maybe both...'

"You okay, Harry?" Ramona whispered as the students' portkeys activated.

"Hm?" Harry glanced over at her and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Deep thoughts, no doubt," Ramona teased. "Why don't you return to this mortal plane for a while and play a game of cards with the rest of us?"

"Certainly," Harry agreed and they rose to join Kenric, Duana, and Conrad by the cold fireplace, where they were setting up to play. At Ramona's hopeful plea, the other Hufflepuff staying the summer, Fiona, joined them with a grateful smile. Helena, as always, turned her nose up at the offer to come play, but the other Ravenclaw, June, agreed to join them, leaving her own book at the Ravenclaw table.

The summer passed with reading and training with their non-magical weapons between breakfast and lunch, and various attempts to get the school up to par after lunch. Classrooms were set up – the finished furniture had simply been left in a corner of the rooms the teachers had claimed, not put out in any order – the greenhouses were put together and planted, and the common rooms and dorms saw additional furniture.

The Founders, again, took turns being out of the castle to look for students. From comments at the dinner table, they weren't having a lot of luck, but they did each find at least one new student.

Salazar stopped Harry one evening after dinner, while they were in the common, and said, "I should warn you, I only offered a place to this student because of you."

Harry raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh? You're blaming me for you inviting a student?"

Salazar snorted. "I would have suggested Godric take him on, considering how foolish the boy was when I saw him, but then I heard his name."

"Salazar," Harry said, "stop being difficult."

Salazar's eyes fairly danced when he announced, "His name is Merlin."

Harry blinked a few times, then he breathed, "What? Merlin? Merlin Merlin? The Merlin?"

"How should I know?" Salazar retorted. "All I know is that he can use magic, is named Merlin, and has an amazing talent for getting himself into trouble he can't seem to find a way out of. The last is according to his mother, mind."

Harry pointed a finger at Salazar. "That's it. You can't find a way to send me home until after I've both met him and stolen a piece of parchment he's written his name on."

"What?"

"I get to sleep in the same dorm as Merlin," Harry breathed, starting towards the dorms. "I'm going to rub this in the face of every single pureblood I come across. Holy crap."

"And what if he's not your big, important Merlin?" Salazar called after him, torn between amusement and horror.

Harry paused to consider that for a moment, then shot an innocent smile over his shoulder. "They won't know that." Then he was back on his way to his room, whistling to himself.

The next morning, Harry was still in a fantastic mood, much to Salazar's amusement and everyone else's confusion.

"So, what happened after dinner that has you so disgustingly happy?" Duana muttered, half asleep in her porridge.

"Nothing," Harry said, grinning madly and trying not to whistle any more.

"Papa, can we beat the cheerfulness out of him?" Kenric asked Godric, expression somewhere between hopeful and sleepy.

Godric seemed to consider that for a moment before Bernia smacked his arm. "Mum says no."

"Oh, come on, Mum," Kenric pleaded.

Bernia shot her son an unimpressed look. "Finish your breakfast."

Harry made a concerted effort to appear less cheerful, but there was still a bounce in his step when they all rose to head outside. They had just reached the doors of the Great Hall, Godric in the lead, when there was a thud behind them. They all turned to see a person with red hair lying, unmoving, in the middle of the Great Hall. A puddle of red was spilling out into the cracks of the stone floor around the body, while green eyes stared up at the ceiling.

There were only two students not currently in Hogwarts with hair that colour, Mavis and Velda Kenward. And Velda's eyes were brown.

"Gods be merciful," Helga breathed.

"Get the children out!" Salazar ordered moving towards the body.

Harry numbly let himself be pushed out of the room by Helga, stomach churning with his breakfast. As soon as the fresh air of the outdoors hit him, Harry shook off the gentle hand and murmured, "Excuse me," before pushing past the other students and teachers and making for the lake.

"Har–" Helga started to call after him, but Rowena shook her head.

"Let him go," the tall woman ordered as she knelt next to her horrified daughter. "As we have all noted before, he is very like Salazar; he'll prefer to be alone."

Harry stopped some feet away from his usual spot by the lake, next to one of the few trees, and threw up before continuing to his spot. There, he curled around his knees and closed his eyes. But, behind closed eyelids, the body changed form, becoming Ron and Ginny and Fred and George, until Harry slammed his eyes back open to stare into the lake.

He felt, more than heard, Salazar approach, and said, "She's dead."

Salazar sat down next to the boy, eyes dark with grief. "Yes," he agreed.

Harry was silent for a long moment, blinking his eyes quickly to avoid seeing his quasi-family dead again. Finally, he said, "I was in a contest. A tournament between schools. Vol– He..." Harry took a deep breath, thoughts all a mess, but needing to say this, to tell someone what had happened, because, sometimes, it didn't seem real. But it was real, it had happened. And Harry needed to not be the only one who knew what had happened, because yet another person was dead and at least she would be mourned. "I wasn't supposed to be in the tournament, but he fixed it somehow. Got me in it. There was this maze... Me and the other Hogwarts contestant – Cedric – reached the cup at the centre at the same time. We took it together – figured it was a Hogwarts victory either way – except the cup was a portkey. It took us to a graveyard and Wormtail and Vol– he were there. And he said, 'Kill the spare'. And Wormtail did."

Salazar wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and drew the huddled form against himself, offering comfort in silence.

Harry relaxed against the older wizard, breathing in the empty smell of a cleaning charm. "I should have just grabbed the cup when he told me to," he whispered. "I shouldn't have argued. Should have said–"

"Harry," Salazar murmured. "You couldn't have known."

Harry shook his head. "I knew the tournament was a trap – we all did. We just didn't know how. We thought... People have died in that tournament before, and there was an age restriction on it, to try and keep that from happening. We all thought I'd been entered so I'd die during one of the tasks. We didn't think... Didn't even guess..." He let out a tired laugh. "Hind sight."

Salazar frowned in confusion at the last, but left it to ask, "Why would they hold the tournament if students have died in the past?"

"It's meant to prove which of the three magical schools in Europe is the best," Harry explained.

"Europe?" Salazar repeated uncertainly.

Harry nodded. "I don't know why they brought it back. Prof– The headmaster wasn't too pleased, from the sounds of things, but he couldn't stop them. I mean, he got them to put the age restriction on there, and it did seem to work – I saw a couple of other students fail to enter their name because of the restriction – but, well..." He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, the dead body fading from the comfort Salazar offered. "What's to be done about Mavis?"

Salazar squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Godric and Rowena have gone to see if they can discover exactly what happened. We'll have a pyre for her and her family – if their bodies can be recovered – and, when the others get back, we'll have a day of remembrance before classes start." He was silent for a moment before saying, "I'll stay in the castle for the next few days."

Harry knew Salazar had been continuing his search for a way to send Harry home, requiring him to be out of the castle more often than he was in. A part of Harry grasped at the chance to have Salazar around for a few days, to know that the older wizard wasn't spending his days hunting down ways to get rid of Harry; but a much larger part of Harry knew it needed to be done, because Voldemort was back and someone had to warn Dumbledore. Someone had to tell everyone that Cedric was dead.

Harry needed to go home.

"No," he said, sitting up and pulling away. "I'll be okay."

Salazar watched for a moment as Harry visibly pulled himself together, wiping at tears he hadn't noticed fall. And for what felt like the hundredth time since they'd met, Salazar's heart broke for this boy, who had lived through hell and watched as a fellow was murdered in front of him, yet bore it all with a smile.

"You expect too much of that boy!" Godric had shouted the first time Salazar had vanished over night. He'd insisted that he'd known Harry would be able to handle things without him, and even though Godric had commented, on more than one occasion, that he would trust Harry to take care of all their children without a second thought, Salazar's comment that morning had only enraged him further.

'Maybe Godric's right,' Salazar thought as they both rose to go back into the castle. 'Maybe I do expect too much of Harry, but it's hard not to. Because he refuses to let himself be brought down by anything; not almost dying, nor being sent back in time. He'll allow himself a moment's grief – perhaps two moments – and then he moves on.'

They re-entered the castle and Harry went over to the other students, taking an upset Duana from Bernia without a word and sitting down to comfort her while Bernia handled Kenric. Ramona moved over to sit next to Harry, far more together than the other children, but still more visibly upset than Harry. Harry murmured something to her and her lips quirked with a sad smile as she rested her head against his shoulder.

Salazar turned away and left the Great Hall to prepare Mavis' body for the pyre, desperately trying to remind himself not to get attached.

-0-

The funerary pyre was larger than any of them had thought it would be. The harvest had, again, been bad that year, and the villagers had lashed out at Mavis' family, calling them all witches and cursed. Mavis and her father had stayed behind to give her sister and mother a chance to get to safety and were killed in the process. When Mavis had fallen, her portkey had snapped, and her disappearance had only been further proof that the family were devil worshippers. They'd hunted down Mavis' mother and sister at her mother's parents' house and killed everyone there, including Mavis' older brother, his wife, and their one year old son.

As the two who had known the family best, Harry and Salazar bore the torches and lit the pile of wood aflame. When they stepped back to stand with the others, Harry found Ramona at his side, quietly crying. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, watching the flames destroy what was left of his friend.

That night, Harry woke from a nightmare of broken bodies and flames. He stepped out into the common and knocked on Salazar's door, but there was no answer. When he pushed it open – thankfully unhexed during the holiday – the room was empty, and Harry's heart sank even as he whispered, "What did I expect?"

He hunted down a block of wood and curled up on the couch to whittle.

He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but he woke to a hand on his shoulder. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he found Ramona smiling at him from the other end of his wand, and he let out a groan as he dropped his hand. "Sorry," he muttered.

Ramona let out a quiet laugh. "At least you didn't actually curse me. Do you always point your wand at whoever wakes you?"

"I'm usually up before anyone else," Harry said, slipping his wand away and looking around for his carving and knife, more than a little worried he was laying on them. "But I did almost curse Fane, onc– Oh, thanks," he said as Ramona held out the figure and his knife.

"It's a beautiful piece," Ramona commented as Harry slid his knife away.

Harry glanced at the wooden bird in his hand. The head needed another run-over and the tail feathers needed a bit more definition, but it was one of his better pieces. "Thanks," he murmured, rising to his feet and stretching a bit.

"What's it for?" Ramona wondered.

Harry turned the bird over in his hands, looking out the windows bright with sunlight through the lake water. "Mavis. She told me, once, that her name means 'songbird'."

"Oh," Ramona whispered, covering her mouth with a hand and blinking away surprised tears.

Harry smiled at her. "So, what are you doing down here?"

Ramona sniffed and dashed a finger under her eyes. "You missed breakfast, so I thought I'd come see if you were okay." When Harry glanced towards the door of the common, she explained, "Mum gave me the password."

"Of course she did." Harry shook his head. "Well, let me get some real clothing on, then we can drop by the kitchens and you can see to it I'm fed."

Ramona laughed. "Sounds like a plan."

Harry quickly slipped into a tunic and breeches, then joined Ramona in walking to the kitchens. "So, Godric threatening to beat me over the head for missing practice?" he wondered jokingly.

Ramona's smile trembled and she shook her head. "Everyone's still too upset after yesterday, so he said we could have another day off." She fell silent as they reached the kitchens and Harry talked the house-elves into giving him a small breakfast. Once they were back out of the little creatures' domain, she asked in a too-casual voice, "Salazar gone again?"

Harry shrugged. "Isn't he always?" he replied without inflection, expression blank.

"How dare he?" Ramona snapped, steps heavier than needed in her anger. "At a time like this? What's more important than–"

"Ramona," Harry interrupted, bemused, "it's okay."

"No, it's not!"

Harry shook his head. "I told him to go," he admitted.

Ramona stopped and Harry did the same, turning to look back at her curiously. "You told him to go?" When Harry shrugged and nodded, biting into one of the honey-filled biscuits the house-elves had given him, she whispered, "Why?"

"Why not?" Harry replied. When she opened her mouth to snap a response, he added, "I don't need him hovering around me, Ramona. I'm fine." Then he turned and continued walking, wondering if it would be better to sit by the lake and whittle until lunch, or read in the room that changed to become whatever you wanted.

Ramona caught up to Harry before he could reach a decision, and asked, "You're not even the least bit upset about her death?"

"Of course I am," Harry said, and when he glanced at her, there was true sadness in his eyes, "but there's nothing I can do about it now but remember her as I knew her, and I hardly need Salazar for that."

Ramona shook her head. "I can't do that," she admitted.

"I don't expect you to," Harry said. "No one does. We all deal with grief in different ways, and that's okay. It's part of being human."

Ramona looked at him oddly. "Are you really only a year older than me?" she asked.

Harry smiled. "So I'm told." He glanced between the main doors of the castle and the staircases for a moment before making up his mind and starting towards the doors. "I'm going to whittle by the lake. Coming?"

"Of course," Ramona agreed. "Are you going to finish your bird?"

Harry shook his head. "Maybe tonight." He smiled at her. "What's your favourite animal?"

"A badger," she said without pause, then blushed when Harry chuckled. "What?"

Harry shook his head again. "Nothing," he promised. "Let's see if my whittling skills are up to making you a badger."

Thinking back to the bird Harry had been holding when she'd snuck into his common, Ramona thought his skills should be more than up to the task.

-0-

Without a word, Ramona and Harry started seeking each other out before anyone else in the castle. Conrad and Kenric made faces and complained about kissing germs while Duana hit them both over the head. Helga and Roscoe watched on approvingly, as did the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Salazar, in opposition, became even more scarce, only showing up for a meal every other day before vanishing again.

Harry didn't really consider himself and Ramona to be anything more than friends, honestly, until Ramona jokingly commented one afternoon, "Mum's suggesting you ask Dad for permission to court me before he comes out and hits you."

Harry paused, knife caught in a bit of wood, and blinked a few times before carefully setting his work to one side and looking over at her. "One more time?" he requested quietly.

Ramona giggled. "You're supposed to ask my parents if you're going to court me."

Harry blinked a few more times, then blurted out, "They think we're courting?" voice squeaking on the last word.

Ramona frowned, confused. "Well, yes. We spend almost all our time together. We sit together at meals and while we do our morning reading. You make me gifts." She looked down at the piece he was working on, yet another in a series of badgers he'd been making for her over the past two weeks since Mavis' death.

"Oblivious, thy name is Harry," Harry muttered to himself in English before switching to Englisc to admit, "I didn't even realise, sorry. It's– well, this is the same way my female friend and I were, before–" He shook his head. "We weren't– There was nothing between us, so I just– Oh, bother." He sighed and rubbed at his forehead while Ramona watched on with growing amusement; she never thought she'd see Harry so thrown by something as simple as a courtship.

Harry glanced back down at the half-carved wooden badger, weighing his choices. On one hand, it might be nice to have a relationship before he had to return back home and probably die. On the other hand, he would have to leave Ramona behind when Salazar found him a way home; could he honestly put her through that? He shook his head and sighed, then looked up and met her eyes, gaze serious. "Ramona, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think a courtship is a good idea."

Ramona jerked as though hit. "Why? Is it– It's because of me, isn't–"

"No!" Harry snapped, shaking his head. When she flinched, he gentled his tone to explain, "It's complicated and I can't really tell you most of it. I'm sorry. Really. But there's–" He shook his head again, grabbing his current badger and standing. "I would, please believe me that, but there are reasons that getting into any sort of relationship right now is just a bad idea. I'm sorry." Then he hurried off into the castle, creeping past the other residents and down to the dungeon with great care.

When he finished the badger, he had one of the house-elves leave it in Ramona's room with a note of apology. He also avoided the Great Hall, none too interested in seeing Roscoe and Helga's reactions to his refusal of their daughter. (Not that there was anywhere in the castle he could hide from them if they really wanted to have it out with him.)

Salazar found him reading in his room the next afternoon and dryly asked, "All right, what happened?"

Harry glanced up at him. "What do you mean?"

Salazar snorted and stepped over to the comfortable chair against the wall to sit in. "Roscoe's going on about how you broke his baby girl's heart and Helga's trying to calm him down. Ramona's apparently locked herself in her room. The rest of them think you've been murdered by Roscoe or have – wisely, it seems – fled the castle in fear for your life."

Harry sighed and rand a hand down his face. "Dammit." He looked back up at Salazar, feeling more than a little helpless, and explained, "Everyone apparently got the impression that I was trying to court Ramona, but I was really just being friendly. I swear."

"Males and females of your age don't usually do 'friendly'," Salazar commented drily.

"I've noticed," Harry replied in the same dry tone before sighing again and shaking his head. "I like Ramona fine, and I've really nothing against courting her – assuming I get the chance to look up how to court a girl, first – but if I'm going back to my own time, I don't want to just leave her behind without a word. That's... Well, that's cruel. And, well, I can't really say that to her, but I tried to explain it was me, not her..."

Salazar considered this for a moment behind blank eyes before saying, "I'm no expert on girls–"

"You don't say," Harry muttered.

Salazar narrowed his eyes until Harry snapped his mouth shut and held a hand over it, signalling his silence. "I'm not an expert on girls," Salazar said again, "but I do believe you'll have to give her an actual reason for not wishing to court her. She is...quite enamoured of you."

"Mer– Gods bugger it all sideways," Harry muttered in English.

"Against my better judgement," Salazar commented, as if Harry had not spoken, "I would suggest telling her the real reason you don't wish to engage in a courtship. Perhaps not the travelling through time portion, but explaining that you are looking for a way back to your home and family – a trip she cannot join you on – may comfort her."

Harry sighed and nodded. "I suppose." He grimaced. "Now all I have to do is get past Roscoe without being murdered."

Salazar snorted and rose from the chair. "Come. I'll walk you to Helga's common and get you in; Roscoe should still be in the greenhouses."

"Okay," Harry agreed and slipped off his bed. He followed Salazar to a different area of the dungeons, near the kitchens, where he knew the Hufflepuff dorms were.

Salazar tapped out the proper rhythm and motioned Harry past him into the opening that appeared. "The girls' rooms are on the right. Ramona's room is, I believe, the third in."

"Thanks, Salazar," Harry said before ducking into the common. He took a moment to glance around, taking in the glimpses of yellow that would, one day, mark the House forever, then moved towards the right hallway. The third door was the only one that was closed, which was a pretty good sign it was hers, Harry figured as he knocked.

"Go away, Mum!" Ramona shouted.

"Ramona, can we talk?" Harry replied gently.

There was a moment's silence, then the door slammed open to show Ramona, wearing nothing more than her linen shift. Harry pointedly looked away and was, therefore, completely unprepared for the smack she delivered to his cheek before slamming the door in his face.

Harry sighed and rubbed his cheek, thinking it would be nice to have Hermione there to give him pointers. But Hermione was over twelve hundred years in the future and Harry was on his own, so he took a deep breath and tried winging it. "I don't belong here, Ramona. Here, at Hogwarts. Salazar's looking for a way to get me back home, but I can't take anyone with me and we don't know when he'll find it; it could be tomorrow, it could be years from now."

The door creaked open and Ramona peeked out at him from around the edge. "So, what, you're from an alternate world or something?" she said, voice sharp with anger.

"Or something," Harry agreed. When Ramona made as if to smack him again, he quickly added, "It's compl–"

"If you say it's 'complicated' one more time, I will get my knives and carve you a new mouth," Ramona snapped. "You're a lying pile of dirt, and I hope Daddy–"

"I'm from the future!" Harry shouted, then winced and looked down the hall towards the common room, hoping no one else was in the House.

"Prove it," Ramona demanded.

"Pro– How?"

"Tell me something that's going to happen tomorrow."

"I'm from over one thousand years in the future," Harry hissed. "And I had a shoddy history professor, to boot. In my time, everyone thinks Salazar was some great non-magical killer and a right evil bastard. Hell, I didn't even know the Founders – your mum and Rowena and Godric and Salazar – had any sort of family. They were just this group of wizards and witches who built the first magical school."

Ramona stared at him for a moment, then breathed, awed, "You're from the future."

Harry sighed and rubbed at his forehead, shifting to lean against the wall outside Ramona's room. "Yes. And Salazar's going to have my head for telling you that."

Ramona covered a nervous giggle. "You can forget to mention that bit to him?" she suggested from behind a hand.

Harry moaned and covered his eyes. "Assuming he didn't hear me. He escorted me here to protect me from Roscoe," he explained to her curious look.

Ramona winced. "Well, sound doesn't carry too well in here, because of that." She pointed at the dirt covering on the ceiling and walls and Harry nodded. "Salazar knows you're from the futu– Wait, of course he does. He's the one who found you. And he's always leaving– looking for a way to get you home, you said?" Harry shrugged and nodded, leaving her to work through everything. "Is that really okay, though? Him trying to get rid of you?"

Harry grimaced. "It's com– Ah." He froze when Ramona narrowed her eyes. "Sorry. He doesn't even know the whole of it, but there are reasons I need to get back. There're people there I care about who probably think I'm dead, and will likely end up dead if I don't warn them about..." He trailed off and reached one hand over his shoulder to tap his back.

Ramona's eyes widened with understanding. "The one who did that to you is in the future?" she breathed. When Harry nodded, she insisted, "Harry, you can't go back! Salazar said–"

"I should have died. I know," Harry replied quietly. "And, maybe, if I go back, I still will. But I need to get back, even if it means I'm going to my death."

Ramona bit her lip, then shoved the door out of the way and dashed forward to hug him. "Oh, Harry..." she whispered, a sob in her voice.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear.

Ramona shook her head and pulled back slightly so she could look at him. "So you don't want to court me because you're going to have to leave?"

Harry nodded. "Essentially. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would love to date – court – you." He smiled at her as she flushed. "But I can't, in good conscience, start a relationship with you when I know I'm going to have to leave you behind; it's not fair to you."

"It wouldn't be fair to you either," Ramona insisted and Harry shrugged. She took a breath, then cautiously said, "Could we...try anyway? I know you're not going to stay," she hurried to add when Harry frowned, "and I know I can't go with you, but I'd like to be together for a little bit, you know. Unless..." She bit her lower lip again. "Is there another girl? In the future?"

Harry thought about Cho and how it seemed like forever ago that he'd been crushing on her. She'd been dating Cedric, though, and even though he was dead... "No," he admitted quietly. "There was never anyone back home." He smiled a little sadly. "We had a school dance – a Yule ball – and I had the worst time finding a date. Finally ended up going with one of the girls in my House and danced all of once before she left me for another guy."

Ramona smiled. "A Yule ball sounds like a lovely idea."

"No," Harry insisted. "I refuse to go to any more balls. Once was enough."

Ramona laughed and dropped a kiss on Harry's cheek, flushed prettily. "Nothing serious," she said quietly. "I really do like you, Harry, and even if it's not meant to last, I'd like to at least try. For a little bit."

Harry watched her, uncertain, for a moment, debating his options. Finally, he nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "But if Roscoe kills me–"

Ramona laughed again, eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'll protect you from Daddy," she promised.

"Harry!" Salazar called from out in the common room. "Roscoe's on his way here!"

Harry gave a dramatic whimper and smiled at Ramona. "Lady knight, I do believe you're underdressed to protect me."

"Oh!" Ramona squeaked and dashed back into her room. "Give me a minute!"

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering what he'd got himself into. "This is going to end in nothing but tears," he whispered in English, not completely certain whether he was speaking about the relationship or the confrontation with Roscoe.

"Harry," Salazar said, stepping into the hallway. "Did you hear me?"

"Ramona's promised to protect me," Harry replied drily.

"Yes, I have," Ramona agreed, stepping out of her room and working to finish putting her kerchief on. "And once I've calmed him down, you can ask him to court me, all proper-like."

"Bugger," Harry muttered before pushing Ramona's hands away and tying the kerchief himself. "Anything specific I need to say?" he asked, looking between Ramona's smile and Salazar's blank expression.

"How should I know?" Salazar snapped before turning and leaving the hallway.

Harry blinked after the Founder, hurt and a little confused. "Okay," he said carefully. "He's in a mood, again."

Ramona frowned thoughtfully after the man. "Interesting..." she murmured.

"Ramona?" Harry said and she blinked at him. "Asking for permission to court you? I don't know anything about it."

"You don't have courtships?" Ramona wondered.

"Nothing so official," Harry replied, shaking his head. "There's certainly no rules about asking the girl's father's permission, though it's usually considered wise to do so, since fathers can be a little terrifying." He shuddered.

Ramona smiled. "Daddy certainly has his moments," she agreed before shaking her head. "Uhm, be polite? You know each other already, so that helps a bit. And Daddy approves of you – well, maybe not right this moment..."

"I'm going to die," Harry insisted.

"No, you're not," Ramona said, pulling him after her towards the common. "Stop being melodramatic. Just be yourself and you'll be fine. Like I said, Daddy likes you, so he's hardly going to refuse."

"Death. Decapitation if I'm lucky, slow torture if I'm not."

Ramona giggled and ducked to crawl out of the hallway, Harry following after her at a respectable distance.

Roscoe was in the common room, frowning at Salazar. "–here, isn't he? He'd better not be–"

"Daddy," Ramona interrupted, frowning at her father. "Leave Salazar alone."

Harry crawled out behind Ramona and winced when Roscoe turned a glare on him; non-magical or not, Roscoe was a damn terrifying individual.

"Daddy," Ramona said, shifting to get between Harry and Roscoe. "Harry and I talked and we've made up. Now stop glaring at him."

"Ramona, he upset you–"

"And he's apologised. And explained himself," Ramona insisted. "I've forgiven him, and I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same."

"Well, maybe he can explain himself to me," Roscoe said coolly.

Ramona opened her mouth to try refusing that, but Harry stepped out from behind her, voice calm as he explained, "There was a slight miscommunication. I enjoy Ramona's company, but I hadn't honestly thought about a formal courting and I'm afraid I reacted poorly to the suggestion." He looked down, the picture of shame. "I didn't mean to hurt Ramona, and I certainly never meant to insinuate that she wasn't worth my time. For that, I apologise, both to her and yourself, Roscoe."

Roscoe blinked, his anger draining away. "Oh," he managed. "I, well. I should have guessed something like that when you didn't ask my permission right away," he admitted.

Harry smiled at him, the relief and nervousness in his eyes not completely faked. "I am sorry," he said again. "And I was hoping, despite this misunderstanding, that you'll give me permission to formally court Ramona?"

"Of course," Roscoe replied, plenty agreeable now that he understood what had happened. He clapped Salazar on the shoulder, grinning proudly. "Hear that, Salazar? A proper courtship for my daughter!"

"I heard," Salazar said coolly. "And, now, if you don't mind, I need to borrow Harry for a bit."

"Oh. Well..." Roscoe looked towards the two children, uncertain.

"I'll meet you in the Great Hall?" Harry said to Ramona.

Ramona smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll go ahead and assure Mum and the others that everything's been solved."

"And that I'm not laying, dead, in some dark corner?" Harry suggested drily.

"You're too morbid," Ramona informed him, a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

Harry smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I'll attempt to curb the habit," he promised before slipping around a grinning Roscoe and following after Salazar.

Once far enough away from the main thoroughfare that they weren't likely to be overheard, Salazar turned and demanded, "Do you actually know what you're doing, or are you letting that girl order you around?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "It was as much my choice as it was hers," he said coolly, "and I'll thank you not to speak of her like that. She's aware that this isn't for keeps, that I have somewhere I need to return to and she can't come with. She's okay with that, we both are."

Salazar's expression tightened with anger for a brief moment before he cleared it completely. "Very well. Since you're back in everyone's good graces, I'll be going out to find a way to get you back. If you'll excuse me." He pushed past Harry and stalked away down the hall.

Harry sighed and rested back against a wall, emotions a mix of hurt and anger and elation in his stomach. He wanted to yell at Salazar for being difficult, but he also wanted to curl up by the lake and be comforted by him, like they'd done mere weeks ago. It was entirely too confusing, so Harry shoved the whole mess away for his subconscious to sort later and made his way towards the Great Hall to spend time with Ramona. His girlfriend.

'Merlin, what have I got myself into this time?' he whimpered. But he was grinning, a spring in his step like when he found out Merlin would be in Slytherin.

-0-

-0-

A/N: RAWR. So, yeah, Harry/OFC. It shouldn't be too overt, but there are reasons I wanted to have Harry date a girl before Salazar. And, of course, who doesn't love a bit of angsty Salazar. XD

So, I actually sort of made Mavis to die, I will admit. I'd decided when I started making the list of students that I was going to need to kill one of them off, and Mavis ended up being it. So, sorry to anyone who'd grown to like her, I guess.

There was one more bit I'd originally intended to get into this chapter/summer, but then the relationship fiasco took up so much time, so it's been held off until next chapter.
And, yes, we get Merlin next chapter. I'm insanely excited about this.

~Bats ^.^x

Chapters:
01 - Impossible Distance || 02 - Layers of Harmony || 03 - Breaking Inside
04 - Let It Flow || 05 - White Horses || 06 - Disturbs Your Slumber
07 - Heart Worth Breaking || 08 - Keep It Inside || 09 - Like the Stars
10 - I'll Breathe Again || 11 - Set Fire to the Rain || 12 - Generation Built on a Lie
13 - In Defence of Our Dreams || 14 - Night Falls In || 15 - Nobody Knows Our Names
16 - I'm Not Drowning || 17 - Beating of the Storm || 18 - Let Me See Your Fire

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