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batsutousaiTitle: Gelosaþ in Écnesse
Chapter: 16 of 18
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Harry/Salazar, Harry/OFC
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.
A/N: It was near the beginning of this chapter that I hit a snag and shortly thereafter fell head first into the Avengers fandom, despite the best attempts by my betas and some fandom friends to resist it. Due to that, there was a period of well over a year where this chapter was left to sit. Any oddities in characterisation or minor plotholes can be blamed on that absence. (Also, my books are all in storage, so a lot of these things were written with the – occasionally questionable – assistance of the Lexicon and my own faulty memories. Apologies abound.)
I'm Not Drowning
-0-0-
According to Albus, McGonagall had taken the news of who Harry and Salazar were quite well, and was interested in speaking with them over dinner one night. Harry and Salazar saw nothing wrong with that, so they made plans to eat at her home in Hogsmeade that night.
Dinner with McGonagall went well; they discovered that she had a dry sense of humour that matched Salazar's, and the two of them got on famously while Harry and Albus laughed at how they each tried to outdo the other.
Harry had noticed that there was a lack of stress in his old Head of House's eyes that had been all too obvious during the Order meeting the day before, and he hated to think how much her fear would have eased to know that Harry wasn't really dead and was, in fact, far more capable of facing Voldemort than he'd been a couple weeks before. He wished they could chance telling the rest of the Order, but they needed Voldemort unsuspecting for as long as possible – no matter how much it might weigh down their own troops – and the best kept secret was one that remained with as few people as possible; that so many members of the Order already knew was bad enough, but what's done is done, and Harry would sooner rip out his own heart than take back telling his friends and godfather that he still lived.
Once dinner had finished, McGonagall asked, "What will you do about You-Know-Who?"
Harry glanced at Albus, shrugging when he smiled without comment. "We're looking for some things he's left behind that we need to kill him for good," he said.
"How's that search coming?" Albus asked.
"We might have one, depending on whether or not the Goblin High Council accepts my claim, but we'll have to look around for the others," Harry replied.
"Albus," McGonagall said drily, "you're teaching Harry your bad habits." At Harry's confused look, she explained, "The cryptic response to straight questions."
Harry shrugged. "A skill I learned to keep people from learning I was from the future, I'm afraid, so the fault lies more with the circumstances than Uncle."
"Not my fault," Albus said, nodding.
McGonagall gave him a suspicious look that said she didn't believe him for a moment and Harry grinned while Salazar's lips twitched with amusement.
"Ah!" Harry turned to Albus, reminded of something. "Uncle, I'll need an image of that one, though, the one you said didn't belong to anyone."
Albus frowned for a moment while McGonagall sighed, then he nodded. "Ah, yes. I can show you a memory with it, if that will do?"
"That should, yes," Harry agreed. "Sal and I will probably head out tomorrow afternoon, after lunch, and spend the evening looking over my options for Defence books with Hermione and whoever else wants to help."
"Some habits are difficult to break," McGonagall commented drily, looking pointedly at Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm more than capable of sorting through those books on my own, but Hermione wants to help and I see no reason to refuse her when I know she'll be a great deal of help."
McGonagall inclined her head, giving him that.
They spoke a bit more about the Order – Albus was thinking of sending out feelers to the non-humans for their support, and it seemed sensible to mention his plans to the other three (his inner circle, as he was beginning to think of them, despite himself) while he had them – before McGonagall waved them out.
At the castle, Harry and Salazar side-tracked up to Albus' office long enough for him to show them a memory of a young Tom Riddle with the ring he thought was a horcrux, then they returned to their own room. Harry spent the rest of the night chatting – gossiping, Salazar insisted – with Merlin and Ramona, while Salazar flipped through one of his new healing books and occasionally gave his opinion on something the other three were saying.
When Harry and Salazar finally turned in for the night, Harry fell right to sleep. He didn't think anything of it until he'd woken the next morning.
"Sal?" he called to his husband, who was already awake, though not in sight.
The bathroom door cracked open. "Harry?"
"My back never bothered me last night."
There was a moment's silence, then the toilet flushed and Salazar stepped into the bedroom, brow furrowed. "Interesting."
Harry nodded as he pushed up from the bed, revelling at the easy motion of his back after two days of stiffness. "Either whatever was wrong has solved itself–"
"Unlikely," Salazar interrupted.
Harry grimaced, silently agreeing with the elder – his life was never so easy – and continued, "Or there's something at Grimmauld Place that's upsetting the scars."
Salazar nodded. "Considering the link between your scars and phoenixes, and the amount of dark objects in that house, it's not entirely out of the question."
"But let's avoid jumping to conclusions?" Harry suggested.
Salazar's lips twitched with amusement. "Quite." He shrugged. "I know you wanted to spend time with Hermione and your new books, so we can spend the night at Grimmauld Place. If your back again bothers you, we will assume it has something to do with that building and avoid remaining overnight until we have solved the mystery of what is reacting so."
"Yeah, sounds good," Harry agreed. "Did you want to head over until lunch and help with the cleaning, maybe? Or plunder the library, knowing you."
Salazar snorted. "Certainly."
So decided, they got ready for the day and passed by Merlin and Ramona's portrait with a brief greeting. Breakfast was shared with those professors that were early risers – surprisingly, Albus wasn't among them, though Harry had always thought otherwise – then they made for Grimmauld Place.
Breakfast was mostly done by the time they arrived, and Mrs Weasley was more than happy to have Harry's help with the cleaning. Salazar ended up remaining in the kitchen, keeping Sirius company, while the students, Harry, and Mrs Weasley headed up to the dining room for their cleaning attempt that day.
"Mum likes to switch between rooms, so we don't get bored," Ron whispered to Harry when the elder asked why they hadn't returned to the drawing room – there was no way that room was fully cleaned.
Harry nodded and walked over to help Mrs Weasley with one of the cases of objects, since he could use magic and knew how to handle some dark magic.
Mrs Weasley left first, heading down to start on lunch. Lupin had come to assist them, and Sirius had been dragged in by Salazar, who suggested he might feel better if he wrecked some of his family's precious dark artefacts. Harry had left them to it, walking along the wall of cases and glancing over the objects there, tossing an occasional spell out to see if he could determine what curses were on each object. He'd won a promise from Sirius that he could keep some of the objects for his upper years to work with, so they could learn how to handle cursed objects, but he didn't want objects that would kill them.
Mrs Weasley had just called for lunch when Harry saw the familiar glint of green on silver. "Salazar!" he shouted, flicking an unlocking spell at the case door.
His husband was at his side in an instant, eyes following Harry's to the necklace sitting innocently on the bottom shelf. "In the names of the gods," he breathed, then spun to grab a ratty cloth napkin from the table, silverware clinking loudly against the sturdy wood as it tumbled out.
"What have you found?" Sirius asked. Everyone had followed Salazar over, curious to see what had caught Harry's attention.
Salazar handed the napkin down to Harry, who used it to carefully pick up the locket. "A necklace that belonged to my father," Salazar offered with a cold edge to his smile. "I hope you don't mind, Sirius, if I take this with me to dispose of in the most violent way possible?"
Sirius glanced at the tarnished locket with the gaudy 'S' drawn out in emeralds on it. "By all means," he agreed with a careless shrug, then turned away.
Harry glanced up at Salazar with narrowed eyes as the others followed Sirius from the room. "This is not a place I would have expected to find this. Unless Voldemort trusted someone in Sirius' family."
"He is related both to the Lestrange woman and the Malfoys, who had the diary, you said," Salazar pointed out, helping Harry to his feet. "And did Sirius not say his brother was killed in the service of Voldemort?"
Harry nodded as he collected a second ratty napkin to wrap around the locket before dropping it into his belt pouch. "Killed by Voldemort for running, Sirius said, but, yeah. Lots of bad eggs." He ran a hand down his face. "Still. In the dining room?"
Salazar glanced back towards the case. "Fair enough." He shook his head and motioned for them to leave. "It matters little; it is a story we will likely never know the truth of. We have found it, and now need only to bring it to Albus to discover how best to destroy it."
Harry glanced at him, a teasing smile curling his lips. "And if the locket, itself, remains unharmed?"
Salazar smirked at him. "I've learnt a fair few hexes, of late, that I might be interested in practising."
Harry chuckled and they left it at that.
The locket, as it turned out, did survive the destruction of the horcrux in one piece, though it had been dented in the centre of the 'S' by Godric's old sword. (Which Salazar had refused to touch, leaving it to Harry to attack the locket. Not that Harry didn't understand.)
The rest of the afternoon was spent with Salazar blasting the locket into such tiny pieces, they could no longer find even a glimmer of it in the grass of the Hogwarts lawn. Then they returned to Grimmauld Place, in silent agreement that finding the locket that morning had counted by way of their search for the day.
Dinner was spent at Grimmauld Place, and then there was a small gathering held around the kitchen table over the books Harry had bought. Hermione, Lupin, Bill, Mr Weasley, and Tonks had all wanted to help, and Harry was more than happy to have them. Fred and George joined them just to cause trouble, which Harry left to Salazar to handle, while Sirius, Ron, and Ginny played a board game that the convict had found in his room at the far end of the table.
Harry slept easily that night, and he and Salazar spent breakfast debating why – in Welsh, much to everyone else's consternation – before eventually agreeing that it was probably due to the horcrux.
"So I'm a horcrux detector?" Harry said drily as everyone was finishing up.
"When you're trying to sleep," Salazar agreed with a hint of amusement that was entirely unfair.
Harry stared at him for a long moment before switching to English to ask, "Sirius? Is there a couch around here that Sal can spend tonight on?"
Sirius burst out laughing while the students let out quiet sounds of amusement.
Salazar shook his head at his husband, who grinned at him, then turned to Mrs Weasley to say, "Molly, do you mind if I borrow Harry to see if we can't remove those house-elf heads on the stairwell? And perhaps any other portraits or tapestries you no longer wish to see on the walls of this house, Sirius, but have found difficulty in removing."
"I have a list," Sirius promised, jumping to his feet.
"Please do," Mrs Weasley agreed, while the students groaned at the sign that they would now be returning to cleaning.
The tapestries and pictures weren't hard to remove with the blades Harry and Salazar kept. The house-elf heads ended up being a bit more difficult, but a great deal of stubbornness and cursing eventually had all of them down in time for lunch.
The afternoon found Harry and Salazar tackling one of their vaults, looking through them for objects of interest and finding very few. But, then, there were yet more vaults to look through.
That night followed much like the night before, with talk after dinner mostly involving the Defence books, though Harry was pretty settled in using the Viridian books.
The first stop on their official horcrux hunt, the following afternoon, found them at a shack of a house not far from the graveyard where Harry had last met Voldemort. They found the ring there, and quickly returned to Hogwarts to destroy it under Albus' odd stare.
"May I keep the stone?" the Headmaster asked once the horcrux had been destroyed. The stone had separated from the ring base and split during the destruction, leaving two halves behind.
Harry shrugged and handed it over. "Certainly. We have no use for it."
"My thanks, boys," Albus said as he slipped the two pieces into a pocket of his robes. Then he smiled at them, bright and wide. "You seem to be doing much better than I'd have expected with this quest I have set."
"If we keep it up, we'll have found them all before school is back in session," Harry agreed.
"Let us not get our hopes up," Salazar cautioned, turning the empty ring base over between his fingers.
Harry sighed while Albus' expression fell. "I know," the youngest of the three said quietly, reaching out and entwining one hand with his husband's. "It's never so easy."
Salazar offered him a sad smile.
"Still," Albus insisted. "Two destroyed in less than a week, and we know where a third is. You have surpassed my greatest expectations."
Both Harry and Salazar smiled at that, for it was quite true. And they could allow themselves a moment of celebration for their victories.
Ragnuk contacted them the next week with the good news that the cup was theirs. They picked it up the next day and destroyed it with all haste. Only the diadem and Nagini were left. Unless Voldemort had yet another horcrux that none of them could guess at the form of.
That night, when Salazar had long been asleep, Harry came out of his meditation to find Dobby waiting for him, eyes wide and bright. "Professors Albus bes asking for you, Harry Potter," the house-elf breathed.
"Just Harry, Dobby," Harry reminded the elf as he glanced at his sleeping husband.
"Not Salazar, Professors Albus says," Dobby offered.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Indeed?" he murmured as he slipped from their bed. He grabbed a robe, the cloth to cover his scar, and his slippers, then followed Dobby from the bedroom to the sitting room. Ramona was asleep in the portrait, but Merlin was awake, and he gave Harry a curious look. "Tell Sal I'm with Uncle, if he comes looking for me?"
"Certainly," Merlin agreed, inclining his head.
Dobby left him to make his own way, so Harry made the trek in relative silence, save the whispers of the portraits along the hallways and staircases. He spent it wondering what Albus wanted to tell him, and why he didn't want to say it in front of Salazar. Nothing came to mind, but, then, he could hardly believe himself to understand every nuance of Albus' mind.
The gargoyle let him in without needing a password, and Harry frowned further at that.
He found Albus sitting in an armchair, a table at his elbow with a tea tray and a short pile of official-looking papers on it. He smiled when Harry entered, and motioned him towards a chair that popped into existence across from him.
"You asked to see me, Albus?" Harry asked as he settled into the chair, dropping the familiar title of uncle in a small show of his displeasure at leaving Salazar out of the loop.
Albus clearly understood, grimacing slightly and turning to his tea. "I apologise for both the late hour, and the secrecy," he offered quietly, "but I felt this was a burden you needed to decide yourself how to share, should you wish to share it at all."
Harry felt like ice had been slid down the back of his shirt. "Tell me it's not another prophecy."
Albus shook his head. "No. No, I fear that would be simpler." He sighed and reached his thumb and forefinger under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "The night your parents died, I have reason to believe Tom had intended to create his sixth horcrux, the one we now believe to reside in Nagini. It is a near certainty of mine that he had intended your death to be the sacrifice for splitting his soul again."
Harry felt as though the chill from his spine was spreading out, over his body. 'No.'
"I believe he succeeded, to an extent."
Harry closed his eyes. "I'm a horcrux," he said, voice small.
Albus let out a heavy breath. "You recall your visions this past year, before you travelled back in time?"
"Yes."
Albus' teacup rattled against its base and Harry glanced up at the older wizard, green eyes blank. Albus looked more than upset enough for both of them; Harry knew how it felt to gain a family, knowing you would lose them too soon. "I have no proof," Albus offered, a cold comfort, "only my suspicions."
Harry glanced down at his hands. "I had trouble sleeping," he admitted, "in Grimmauld Place. But once we'd destroyed the locket, I slept fine. Sal joked that I was a horcrux detector." He let loose a bitter laugh.
"Oh, my boy," Albus whispered, rising from his chair and holding his arms out as though for a hug.
Harry got up and hid against the man he now called uncle, taking comfort in those ancient arms.
"I'm sorry," Albus whispered into his hair, tears soaking through to his scalp. "If I could only protect you, if I only knew a way..."
Harry forcibly wrapped the calm from his earlier meditation around him, though it felt almost beyond his grasp, then pulled back with a sad smile. "It wasn't your doing, Uncle," he pointed out. "You are only the messenger, and I'm grateful you told me."
Albus nodded, letting Harry go. As the young man started towards the entrance, Albus called, "Will you tell Salazar?"
Harry paused for a moment, still a bit at war with himself over the option, though he, in truth, had known all along what he would do, no matter the news: "I have never before kept something from my husband, and I don't intend to start now." He turned and smiled at Albus, a little bitter around the edges. "That would be a terrible way to end a relationship, don't you agree?"
Albus looked away. "I wouldn't know."
Harry left in silence and spent almost two hours wandering the halls of the ancient castle, very like the ghosts he considered family. He saw no one but portraits, and they, sensing his mood, held silent as he passed.
Salazar found him up on the astronomy tower, staring out over the Forbidden Forest. "You weren't in bed," the Founder murmured, slipping his arms around Harry's waist from behind. "Merlin said you'd gone to Albus, but some other portraits directed me here."
Harry nodded, pressing his hands over Salazar's. "I'm one of the horcruxes."
Salazar tensed against his back. One of his hands slipped free from Harry's hold and came up to cover the covered scar on his forehead, a wordless question.
"Yes."
Salazar's hand dropped to wrap around Harry's shoulders. "We'll find a way to remove it. If I have to give in to those tales about myself and dip into the Dark Arts–"
"Don't you dare," Harry snarled, spinning in Salazar's arms to face his husband. "I would rather die a thousand deaths than watch you destroy yourself."
Salazar stared down at Harry, expression tight. "Do not think I intend to sit back and lose you, Harry Potter. If the only means to save you lie in the Dark Arts, I will use them."
"And then what?" Harry demanded. "Instead of you losing me to death, I lose you to that wretched magic? No." He grabbed a fistful of Salazar's hair and pulled his head down until their foreheads knocked gently together. "If it comes down to a choice between my life and your soul, I will die. And you, Salazar Potter, will live."
"You think–"
"You will let me finish!" Harry snarled, and Salazar's mouth snapped shut. Harry glared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath and, loosening his grip on Salazar's hair, said, "You will live, and you will fix the curse on your school and ensure the safety of future students, and you will put our affairs in order, and if you still have no reason to stay – if you cannot bring yourself to live without me – I give you permission to jump off this fucking tower and join me."
Salazar closed his eyes and pressed his forehead hard against Harry's, arms tight around his husband. "Promise me one thing?" he whispered.
"Find a good spot?"
Salazar let out a chuckle, bitter and a little watery. "Away from Godric."
"You have my word."
They remained like that for almost ten minutes before they carefully disentangled themselves enough to walk back down to their rooms.
"Harry," Salazar said on the staircase between the fifth and fourth floors.
"Hm?"
"Don't stop fighting."
Harry glanced over at his husband's blank expression, only the way he'd refused to let go of Harry's hand as they walked telling how upset he was. "Gryffindors don't know how to give up."
'And Slytherins,' Harry didn't need to say, 'only pretend to give up, so they can come at their opponent from another side when they're no longer looking.'
Two days after Albus told Harry he was a horcrux, Neville came to stay at Headquarters.
Or, really, it would be more correct to say that Augusta Longbottom came through the floo, with Neville following behind, and gave an unimpressed sniff upon finding the group of dirty students, Sirius, Lupin, Harry, Salazar, and Mrs Weasley just sitting down for lunch after a morning spent cleaning.
"Augusta!" Mrs Weasley called, jumping to her feet. "Please, why don't you and Neville join us? We've just sat down for lunch."
"Hey, mate," Ron offered Neville as the boy shuffled around his gran and closer to his Housemates.
"Hi, everyone," Neville replied, eyes darting around the table like he was haunted. His eyes went particularly wide upon seeing Sirius, but his lack of freaking out suggested that Augusta had shared the news that Sirius was innocent with her grandson before dragging him over.
"Sit down," Ginny insisted, tugging on Neville's arm until he dropped into the spot next to her. "Mum's cold cuts are to die for."
"Thank you, Ginny, dear," Mrs Weasley said, breezing past to place a plate of sandwiches and warm chips in front of Neville before somehow ushering Augusta into an open spot next to her seat. "Albus did hint that you might be dropping by, of course, but he couldn't be certain. We'd nearly given up all hope of seeing you or Neville before the train, and that–"
"Molly," Augusta interrupted with all the patience of someone well-used to Mrs Weasley's easy chatter. She looked down the table, eyes sliding past Sirius and Lupin before landing on Harry and Salazar, both of whom met her stare with a similar raising of their left eyebrow. "Which of you two is Albus' nephew, then?"
"I'm Harry," Harry replied with a dip of his head. "This is Sal, my husband."
"And you believe yourself skilled in fighting the Dark Arts?" Augusta demanded.
"Perhaps after lunch–" Mrs Weasley tried.
"It's fine," Harry assured her with a warm smile before again meeting Augusta's stare. "I think I'm skilled enough to teach Magical Defence at Hogwarts, yes. Uncle seems to agree that I'm skilled enough to join his fight against Voldemort."
Neville let out a squeak, and Harry smiled faintly to see Augusta flinch at the forbidden name.
"You'll find, Madam Longbottom, that I prescribe to a great number of my uncle's beliefs regarding the Dark Lord, including that his name is nothing to be feared."
Augusta let out a huff and turned her attention to her food without another word.
"I wonder how high she'd jump if I hissed at her," Salazar said in Coptic.
Harry's lips twitched and he knocked shoulders with his husband. "Stop that. Don't go around antagonising our allies."
"Is it my fault that they make it so easy?"
Hermione shifted across the table and Salazar flinched before fixing her with a glare. "It's impolite to have whispered conversations when we have a guest."
"I have not yet begun to be impolite," Salazar informed her coolly.
Harry rolled his eyes and leaned forward enough to smile at Neville. "Harry Dumbledore, Mr Longbottom. I'm to be your Magical Defence professor this coming year."
Neville blinked at him a few times quite rapidly. "Are you really Professor Dumbledore's nephew?"
Harry chuckled. "I am indeed."
Neville swallowed and glanced down at his plate, where he was poking through his chips a bit absently. "Professor Dumbledore said I might be in danger from You-Know-Who, and that you would be willing to give me lessons this year."
"He may have mentioned something akin to that to me."
"He said... He said I would be safer spending the summer here." Neville looked back up at Harry, then.
Harry could practically feel Augusta's eyes burning into the back of his head, clearly awaiting his answer. He watched the boy – once his dormmate and friend – for a long moment, before carefully replying, "With the Fidelius Charm, it is true that this building is quite safe from Voldemort and his people. Are there ways around the charm? Certainly. Is Voldemort likely to utilise them at this time? I very much doubt it. In truth, given Voldemort's actions of late–"
"Harry!" Mrs Weasley interrupted.
Harry turned to her, green eyes sharp. "It's no great secret that he's keeping a low profile. Anyone who believes he's back and chances reading that rag of a newspaper knows he's in hiding." He turned back to Neville, who was watching him with wide eyes. "I don't think you're in any danger staying with your grandmother, not really. But I have offered to teach those students here a bit of theory over the summer, to, with luck, ease your learning when term begins. I've been told that you, in particular, require the assistance."
"Run away while you still can," Ron said in a stage whisper.
"You can continue spending all your days cleaning, if that's to your preference, Ron," Harry offered with a bright smile.
Ron put on a brilliant 'deer in the headlights' look.
Neville let out a startled laugh.
Hermione shook her head. "Harry hasn't actually started teaching us anything, yet. He said he was waiting for someone, but he wouldn't actually tell us who."
"He didn't wish to raise your hopes," Salazar offered drily.
"Bollocks!" Ron declared.
"Ronald!" Mrs Weasley shouted down the table.
"Your mother's in hearing range, recall," Harry offered.
Ron grimaced and mouthed, 'Bollocks.'
Neville started laughing as Mrs Weasley shouted at Ron again.
That was how Neville moved into Headquarters.
Harry started using the morning slot to teach the students theory, dragging Lupin and Salazar in to help him, while Sirius and the twins made a nuisance of themselves in any way they could. He started them from scratch, for the most part, remembering well how much learning the basic theory had helped his fellows to improve in the time of the Founders. Hermione and Ginny soaked it up like a couple of sponges; Ron whined fairly regularly, but was willing to admit that he was grasping some concepts that even Hermione'd had difficulty explaining to him in the past; and Neville improved in leaps and bounds. Apparently, the only thing Neville had ever needed was for someone to sit down with him and let him ask questions.
Of course, whether all of this theory actually helped them in casting any of the spells, was a different matter entirely.
"It's not fair," Ginny muttered, glowering over at where Fred and George were practising spells with Sirius and Lupin, who'd gone over to stop them from doing something utterly stupid – Harry couldn't recall what, only that it had been dumb – and then been dragged into a question about a couple of spells.
"What's not fair?" Harry asked, not bothering to look up from the homework Neville had asked him to look over, since Hermione was helping Ron.
"They get to use magic. They're taunting us, you know."
"Taunting you, perhaps," Harry returned.
Ginny huffed and shoved at his leg with one of her feet. "I bet you felt exactly the same way over the summers at Hogwarts." She looked towards Salazar, who was reading a book on removing dark curses just out of reach of her feet. "Sal, come on. Tell me Harry was a brat about not being able to use magic over the summer."
"I thought you didn't go to Hogwarts," Neville said, confused.
Harry turned a frown on Ginny, who immediately hunched down on herself. "Sorry," she whispered. "I forgot."
Neville blinked in confusion. "Forgot what?"
Harry turned to watch Neville for a long moment, until the boy was sweating slightly. Then, with a sigh, Harry reached up and pulled off the cloth covering his scar. "It's a bit of a secret that I'm not dead."
Neville's eyes went wide and he seemed to stop breathing for a long moment before he jumped from his seat and at Harry, grabbing him around the neck with a shout of, "You're okay!"
Harry chuckled and hugged the boy back. "Oh ye of little faith," he said fondly, smiling as Neville jumped back with a blush. "Did you honestly believe I would let Voldemort kill me?"
Neville swallowed, all happiness wiped from his face. "I didn't know what to think," he admitted, looking down at his trainers. "But, at the Leaving Feast, everyone was so sombre, and you weren't there. And, soon as I got home, Gran put up all these protections, saying he was going to come for us. That, without you, he was going to kill us both."
"That woman–" Salazar started on a snarl.
Harry sighed and reached out to take his husband's hand, casting him a glance that silenced his complaints. Then he looked back at Neville. "I can't pretend to guess at Voldemort's thoughts. It's true that he might have come for you – that he may still come for you – but he may not. And now, here, we're going to teach you how to protect yourself. Just for long enough for me to get there. Okay?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
Harry smiled and patted Neville's arm. "I'll teach you a couple really old spells once we get to Hogwarts, right? Things that should leave Voldemort scratching his head, and that should serve you nearly as well as a good shield."
"You know spells You-Know-Who doesn't know?"
Harry laughed and motioned for Neville to return to his seat. "Let's just say I have teachers who were quite knowledgeable about spells that no longer exist."
"But you were still at Hogwarts?" Neville wanted to know as he picked his quill back up.
"Quite," Harry agreed before turning to Ginny. "And as for your complaints, Ginny, no, I had no reason to complain about not being able to use magic, because we didn't have those laws back then."
"Not fair," Ginny muttered.
Harry smiled, tired and a little bitter, remembering well his own thoughts on the matter when he'd first gone back. "No," he allowed quietly, "I don't suppose it is." Then he turned back to helping Neville.
The weekend before school was to start, the Ministry of Magic passed a bill to have a 'High Inquisitor' walking the halls of Hogwarts, to 'ensure the standards of learning are upheld'. None of the professors were pleased, and Albus' smiles tightened just enough that, to those who knew him, the strain of having someone watch his school was obvious. For the students and their coming guest, however, he would seem the same barmy old man as ever.
Salazar, likewise, railed against allowing some 'Ministry pig' into his school. Harry had given up trying to calm his husband after the second day, only bothering to tell Salazar to rant in a language the High Inquisitor and other members of the staff wouldn't understand, which he seemed more than happy to agree to. (Harry had a sinking feeling they would all be enjoying snarling in Parseltongue during meals.)
The Ministry's plant wasn't due until the train had already left King's Cross for Hogwarts, and Harry had agreed to ride the train as a precaution against Voldemort making a move. He'd dragged Salazar with him so he knew his husband couldn't greet the Inquisitor at the gate and bar her passage, and Flitwick was also on the train, nearly as incensed as Salazar, though he was quieter about it. (To be fair, Salazar was fairly well behaved around their fellow members of staff, so far, beyond a couple of unrelated stare-offs with Snape a couple of days before, when the dour man had arrived; most of Salazar's complaining was saved for their bedroom or Grimmauld Place.)
The trip to Hogwarts was without incident, and Flitwick, Salazar, and Harry took the first of the carriages up to the school, gone before any of the students had stepped off the train to see them.
Dolores Umbridge was the name of the High Inquisitor, and she had already claimed the seat that Harry usually took at Albus' side as her own. Salazar let out a displeased, wordless hiss at Harry's side, but the younger wizard shook his head. "We're not going to start a fight tonight, Sal," he reminded his husband.
"She's stolen our seats," the Founder muttered back.
"I know. Grin and bear it."
Salazar shot him an unimpressed look, but he did put his scowl away as they joined the Head Table. The other professors had, likely recognising the problem as soon as Umbridge sat, silently made sure there was room for Harry and Salazar both next to Umbridge, so there was no jockeying for seats as the students began to file in.
"And you must be the Headmaster's nephew," Umbridge simpered at Harry, holding out a hand like she intended for him to kiss the back.
"I am," Harry agreed in a neutral tone as he shook her hand.
"I was intrigued by your choice for term books," Umbridge commented in a cheerful voice, smile wide and mostly false. "I would have chosen Wilbert Slinkhard, myself."
"Of course you would have, you nasty little toad," Salazar muttered in Arabic, which they'd both taken a day to brush up on, as it were, so they could keep the fiction of having spent time in modern Egypt.
Harry pointedly ignored his husband, instead replying, "I did look over Slinkhard's books, but he's a bit too dry for my tastes, I admit. Much of my own magical training avoided book-learning, though I do understand the necessity of assigning reading to supplement my lessons. Viridian seemed to be the best mix between Ministry-approved and interesting enough to keep the attention of my students."
Umbridge's smile eased a bit, becoming less obnoxiously false. "You are wiser than your uncle, in that manner; he often seems to have no care for the Ministry's interests." She glanced over her shoulder, towards where Albus was making a point of talking with Flitwick around McGonagall's empty seat, as though he wasn't listening to every word Umbridge said.
Harry shrugged. "I don't have the liberty of collecting enemies, Madam Umbridge, unlike my uncle."
Harry was saved from her response to that by McGonagall leading the first years in.
Harry had explained the Sorting process to his husband, as well as the fact that Salazar needed to smile and not talk during it. He hadn't had to tell the Founder to clap for every student, no matter their House, though, for he knew Salazar would do it anyway.
When the last child was sorted, Albus stood for the announcements. Harry could feel the eyes of the entire Hall glancing between Salazar, Umbridge, and himself, trying to figure out which of them was the new Defence professor. Some – those with ties to the Ministry, Harry knew – would be aware that Umbridge was no professor, but they would remain confused about who Harry and Salazar were, given that they'd both managed to keep a fairly low profile since their appearance in this time, for all that Harry was acting as Albus' nephew.
At last, Albus announced, "As you all are aware, we have, again, been forced to seek out a new professor for the position which was previously called Defence Against the Dark Arts." There was some murmuring at that, and Harry saw that even Umbridge was confused. "At the request of our new professor, I've agreed to change the name of the class to 'Magical Defence', though I am assured it will not change how the class is taught."
"Like any of us know how it's actually supposed to be taught!" Fred – or George, though Harry was fairly certain it was Fred – shouted.
Albus smiled at him. "An excellent observation, Mr Weasley." He glanced over at Harry, who was shaking his head with a smile. "Your professor for this year is my nephew, Harry Dumbledore." Harry rose to his feet and nodded to the room. "To avoid any confusion, both he and his husband, Salazar, suggest that you refer to them as Professors Harry and Salazar."
There was a stunned silence to follow that, people equally torn over the word 'husband' and Salazar's name. Harry sat back down so he could squeeze Salazar's hand under the table, away from prying eyes. Salazar cast him a tiredly amused look in return; Ron's promise about their being married not being an issue had eased some of the strain, but neither of them were fool enough to think they wouldn't face plenty of students who had something to say about their private life.
Albus broke the silence to introduce Umbridge, who was casting an odd, sort of worrying look at Harry and Salazar, but she turned away from them to make her own little speech, which Albus and the other professors politely listened to; just because they weren't pleased with the Ministry sticking their fingers into the school, didn't mean they had to get the students involved.
Once she'd returned to her seat, Albus motioned for the food to appear and they all dug in.
Umbridge was silent for the rest of the meal, occasionally casting strange looks towards where Harry was stealing food off his husband's plate whenever Salazar turned to speak with Pomfrey on his other side, or slipping something onto it that he knew the Founder would never pick for himself. (Whenever Salazar caught him, he'd roll his eyes and either steal something from Harry's plate in retaliation, or move the thing Harry had just put on his plate onto the younger's plate.)
All of the professors rose to leave with the students, once Albus dismissed everyone. Set against the way they would loiter, talking to each other long after the table had been cleared, over the summer, it was disheartening. It was hard to tell if the exodus was because of classes starting in the morning, or Umbridge, but Harry privately thought (and Salazar agreed) that it was the latter, more than the former.
Either way, it was true that there were lessons tomorrow, and Harry was just worried enough that a night spent pouring over his lesson plans had already been his plan. That Salazar got fed up after an hour and dragged him into the bedroom to attempt relaxing him in a rather physical (and pleasurable, if Harry said so) manner wasn't that much of a surprise, really.
-0-
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
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