3In one world, Harry is with Neville and a hurt Hermione when the time-turners continue to fall, shatter, and repair itself on the wall behind them.
In this world, surprisingly unhurt, Hermione, Ron and Harry, stand back to back, surrounded by Death Eaters and get covered in the swirling, gold time sand. The next thing they know they are flying through a mess of colour and sound and light, hurled towards the unknown.
The trio's feet hit stone underneath their feet, and looking around they realize that they were still in the headmasters office albeit something was different. The office is more subdued. While previously, Professor Dumbledore's office had seemed more homely and relaxed, a place where you could talk and be offered lemon drops, this office rang with the aura of power, decked in a rich, deep purple - identifiably, the Hogwarts Colour - a place of discipline and study.
There was only one portrait on the wall instead of dozens of previous heads who regarded him suspiciously whenever he entered the office. This portrait holds a man of clearly Persian descent, who had abandoned his chess game against himself as he stared at Harry, Ron and Hermione with suspicion.
Arguably, the most distinctive difference is the strange woman sitting in the headmaster's chair. She is thin, lanky, not unlike Professor McGonagall, but that is where the differences end. This woman is young, clad in tasteful browns and fur, and wears a kind expression on her face. She regards them with curious and mischief laden eyes and staring head on at the trio, she says "Well met, young wix. How may I help you?"
Harry whipped his wand out and stared down the strange woman in the strange office, that appeared like the one he knew and yet different.
"Now, now. There is no need for unnecessary threats and violence. Sanctuary will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Those words sounded so similar to what Professor Dumbledore said that Harry loses his grip on the wand for a second.
Hermione's hand reached out and stopped him from lifting his wand again. "I recognize you, you're one of the headmistresses of Hogwarts. Heliotrope Wilkins, who held office from 1327 to 1408…" She trailed off.
The woman, now identified as Professor Wilkins, says, "Thank you for telling me the duration of my tenure at Hogwarts." She gets up from her chair and walks around to them, saying "You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name and a great deal about my future and I know nothing of you three. Care to explain before I lose patience and deposit you into the Great Lake for the Squid to deal with?"
Harry, taking the lead, says "This could be a trick. Maybe Voldemort is still in my head. He's making me see things. I will not fall for another trick."
Ron, who had remained silent until here, says, "Not a trick, mate. All real." And then promptly pinches Harry's arm to prove his point.
Wilkins interrupts their budding scabbling, and now her tone signifying she was irritated says, "Are you turned wix? You are certainly no students of mine. I have said before and I shall say it again. You can tell the crown that Hogwarts is a safe haven for wix and no Christian shall kill my students. This is a place of learning and no muggle will gain control under my watch. I shall not turn away any wix wanting safe haven." She had clearly worked herself up to light rage and looked ready to battle them where they stood.
Hermione, a look of understanding dawning her face, courageously looks the headmistress in the eyes and says, "Professor Wilkins,we are not sure of what has happened here but I think we might have travelled. In time. To more than seven hundred years before our time. Because you see, we are Hogwarts students. Just not from now, but later. Way later."
Wilkins regards them through hooded eyes. "Are you untrained time-walkers then, wizard? I must admit I have never seen ones so confused before. Lose your path walking in the meandering lanes, have you?"
Time-walkers, that sparked some memories from the History of Magic classes in Harry and Ron. But unfortunately, both of them had never paid any attention to the monotone droning of Professor Binns, and thus, could most probably never recall any information on the term.
Hermione meanwhile, clearly used to explaining to the other two, noted Wilkins, now in a lecturer's stance, started stating almost word to word from some sort of text book. "Time walkers, a rare subgroup of wizard kind, known to travel across the planes of time and space. An exceptionally rare talent, almost always recorded in the family branches of or related to the Dehoff family."
Hermione, turning to Wilkins says, "We are not time-walkers. We were in … a battle of sorts. These time devices broke on us and I think we must have gotten transported due to a mixture of the spells flying around and the sand."
Harry, having had enough of this nonsense, turns toward his friends and shouts, "This cannot be happening. We cannot have traveled this far into the past, Hermione. There has to be another explanation. No single time-turner can turn back seven hundred years" All three of them suddenly understood exactly what had happened.
Ron says, "But an entire room's worth of time-turner's dust focused on us would do the trick, I how we changed distance while changing time, I don't know."
"The earth did not stop turning when you changed time and Hogwarts lies on an amalgamation of ley lines that attracts magical forces. I suspect you were in the nearabouts when you reached, and Hogwarts, recognized you as students and deposited you in my office to deal with."
Professor Wilkins, now looking vaguely worried, turned towards her desk and rang a small golden bell that chimed sweetly. She looks at them and with a wave of her hand gestures to them to occupy one of the multitude of seating spaces in the office. They sit each on an armchair near the lit fireplace.
All three of them are clearly overwhelmed and tired and lost and on the verge of breaking down.
Wilkins, looks over at them pityingly and states, "I have called the medice, she'll look you over and treat your injuries. She has gone up to the village and will take a few minutes. Till then, I suggest you rest and recuperate your strength. As for your situation, I understand you are no time-walkers and lack the ability to return to your time at this moment.
"I assure you Hogwarts is open to all its students regardless of where or shall I say when these students might have come from. While we search for ways to get you back to your own time, for now, I suggest we figure out your proficiency in the different disciplines and sort you in classes."
Hermione looked extremely excited at the prospect of learning historical spells from people she had only ever read about, whereas Ron and Harry just looked at each other with horrified dread. Over being forced to stay in a different time or forced to go to school even when they shouldn't have to, we're not sure. But they are certainly not happy with the progression of these events.
Now amused, Professor Wilkins continued, "I can see you are amenable to the idea. Now, I can only assume that you have been sorted already, so if you tell me your houses I shall see beds added to the Wizard's dormitorium of those immediately."
Hermione abruptly turns to Wilkins and states, "You keep calling me a wizard. I am not a wizard, I am a witch. I thought it would be evident, you know, with the long hair and the chest-"
She is interrupted in her tirade by Wilkins who looks down at Hermione and states "You dress like a wizard in trousers and tunics, therefore I can only assume you are a wizard."
Harry and Ron who had heard a similar lecture for the past five years, sigh in unison and prepare for a long lecture. Each had tried in their own ways to explain, but had never succeeded.
"Just because I dress in what makes me feel comfortable does not mean I have changed my gender. This might be inappropriate or wizard wear for you, but in the muggle world of my time, trousers are perfectly acceptable for women to wear." She glared at Wilkins as if daring her to argue.
Wilkins, who now looked strict, leaned against her desk, calmly says, " Consider this your first lesson in the Hogwarts of 1358. You have no control over what you are born, but you have absolute control over who you will be. If you dress as a wizard, I will regard you as a wizard, because that is who you are choosing to be.
"I do not know what is in your heart or your mind. I only know what you show me you are. And right now, you show me you want to be accepted as a wizard and there is nothing wrong about that. However, if you wish to be regarded as a witch, you must portray yourself to be a witch.
"Your clothes and mannerism show almost everything about you, they are your identity as much as they are your armour. Are you a muggle or are you a witch? The Wix World is your world, or are you so willing to stand with those who would persecute and execute you for what you are born."
Ron and Harry stared up at Professor Wilkins in shock. No one had ever corrected Hermione in such a way. Harry, although he understood what Hermione meant, also understood that they must adapt to their new society, not force their society to adapt to them.
It's not as if the Wizarding World was misogynistic. Witches had equal rights in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic, it's just that their society worked in a different way. In a way, Harry muses, the muggle world cannot.
The societal boundaries are different. Wizards, he muses, never seem to have issues with homosexuality or gender changes like the Dursleys do. Although, they are the Dursleys so he was of the mind that if they had issues with something it must be alright.
Ron though, was very glad someone had gotten through to Hermione. Maybe now, Hermione would try to learn about the world she is in rather than comparing it to the one she had been in, Ron hopes. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were too entrenched in the muggle world to say anything, in fact they endorsed such things. Calling them ingenious and marveling over how far the muggle world had come and how advanced they were every time Hermione explained something over the dinner table to Mr. Weasley.
Ron had noticed over the years, how Hermione compared the Wizarding World to the Muggle World and scoffed her nose even though she read every book the Wizarding World had to offer. He had grown up with winters at Great Aunt Muriel's house - what with his mum having too much to do at Christmas time to manage seven rowdy kids at once. So, off he went to Great Aunt Muriel's with Fred and George - the only two willing to go.
Ron had grown up, not celebrating Muggle Christmas, but traditional Saturnalia with Great Aunt Muriel and Fred and Geotrge where they would pick chits over who got to be King, Queen, Soldier and Jester and they would feast and exchange gag gifts.
He aborted his reminiscing when he felt a slight tug at his arm. He followed the dark hand on his arm to Harry's face and saw the lightly covered dread there. Following where he was gesturing (if Harry thought he was being subtly, then he really needed classes from the twins, Ron notes absently) and noticed Hermione.
Hermione who looked insulted and ready to argue now appeared ready to start a war over these customs. They were saved an escalating argument when with a bang the doors to the tower opened, revealing a woman who looked startlingly like Madame Pomfrey dressed in a very similar garb. She held a basket filled to the brim with potions and herbs and bandages.
She looks down on them and tuts and says, "These are the refugees I am to treat, I assume. With your permission, Headmistress Wilkins, we shall off to the Healing wings to fix them up."
Headmistress Wilkins gets up with the trio and says "I shall accompany you all. Our guests and I still have arrangements to make."
With those ominous words they start their trek to the Healing Wing across the castle.
"Well, other than a few bruises and two nasty curse scars, we are all healthy here. Although that wizard could very well do with a few nutrition potions and well balanced meals. For now the cleaning charms will do, but you need a thorough wash later."
The trio were all seated side by side in the healing wing (and boy, that sounded weird to even think, it had been the hospital wing for as long as they had known) with Mediwitch Bones (medice, Ron thought) casting all sorts of spells on them. She had scowled at the cut on his forearm and tutted disapprovingly, glaring at the glowing nonsense above his form at Harry's turn.
Medice Bones left to appropriate some food for the three 'refugees'. 'Especially that wizard about to miss out on all his growth. Those commoners - no clue as to how to feed a growing young one, a wizard too,'
Harry had looked vaguely offended but nodded along thinking of the hunger cramps he had often experienced as a child. By the time he was five, his body had understood its needs were not going to be met and stopped complaining.
"Now that we are all mostly settled for the time being, I need your names for records as well as your ages and houses. A family name will also be appreciated." Clearly, Headmistress Wilkins was not used to dilly-dallying.
As Ron went to open his mouth and answer, Hermione stomped on his foot. Hard. "Ouch, you mental girl. What is wrong with you? She asked our names not the name of the current - er- future Minister of Magic."
Hermione, exasperated, explained, "We cannot tell her anything. It's the rules of time travel. We cannot change anything, or we could destroy the entire future! Could you for one, think a little before you open your mouth!"
Before Ron could defend himself, Professor Wilkins interrupted, "Your Augurium professor clearly has a lot to atone for. Time is a lot more focused on fixing itself compared to your efforts of disrupting it. Trust the Percae's designs in having you here. You are meant to be here, so you are. Do what you do, do not kill anyone and time shall knit the hole you have opened."
Harry, remembering the time-travel of his third year, said "But, I thought that changing anything past a few hours could be disastrous? And there are no mentions of us in history, so we are obviously not meant to be here."
Hermione, thinking out loud says, "Actually, there are so few records of anything past the 16th century. When the Statue was imposed, all prior records and most knowledge was removed and destroyed to distance ourselves from anything muggle in nature. Even if there were records of us here, they would have been destroyed in the Great Purge."
"And there you have it. Now, your names please. Before Medice Bones is back." She seems to have reached the end of her patience by now, Hermione thought.
"Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, Headmistress Wilkins. All of us are fifteen and Gryffindors." Each of them were pointed at. Hermione, ever the respectful student. Except to Snape behind his back.
That was when Medice Bones was announced by the smell of a warm cooked meal that was carried by a small contingent of house elves that followed her.
"An aperitif of fruits and a meal of chicken broth with rice, with some aged cheese as digestif. A proper Hogwarts fare, I would say." Medieval food was clearly not all what is cracked to be, clearly, Ron thought, remembering the roasts and pies of the future Hogwarts.
As the three students rushed to appease their gurgling stomachs, Headmistress Wilkins cast a curious spell that showed the great squid. Harry shrugged and continued eating. Medice Bones and Headmistress Wilkins talked in hushed tones across from them. The trio didn't catch the conversation but each heard a few words; lineage, custom, apparel, time-walker and paterfamilias appeared quite often in the talk.
Headmistress Wilkins said one final thing to Medice Bones and turned to them. "We shall contact your families tomorrow, to see to arrangements. For now, curfew is near. Medice Bones will show you to your rooms. Merry part." And with none if you please, she swept away from the Healing Wing.
"Eat up. I seem to have been volunteered to show you to your rooms." Well, at least her bedside manner was warm when you compared it to Madam Pomfrey's.
As Harry lay in his bed wearing the most ridiculous long shirt that these people called pajamas. At least he wore boxers today, they were more comfortable to sleep in. Ron had laughed. He would have to wear them too. Harry would have the last laugh. He thought about everything that had happened since they had arrived at the tower.
When they had reached the Gryffindor Tower, Medice Bones had loft after giving them some brief instructions. "The wizard's staircase is on the left, the witch's on the right, both of your rooms are on the topmost floor. It should have a door plate stating 'GUESTS' and the house elves have left some night clothes for the interim on your beds. We'll figure out everything else tomorrow. Now, I expect all of you in my wing at exactly eight strikes of the clock to straighten out my parchment work. Merry part."
So many things about the day didn't make sense, Harry thought. We're almost half a century in the past, and the way of speaking is very different, but some of these words were beyond his grasp. Mentally, he recounted what he had not understood. Maybe once Ron was out of the bathroom he could ask him. Wix, the augu-something word, paterfamilias, the Merry Part thing.
All of this is very overwhelming, he thought. The dormitory at least, he thought, is similar to our old one. Though for some reason instead of a set of two like he was expecting, there was a set of three and he had never known there to be an extra or missing bed in any dorm before.
The only thing he did know was that he was not being separated from his two best were disorienting as it was and he did not think he would survive without a breakdown without his two rocks.
Meanwhile, Ron had discovered a giant bathtub in their attached facilities and was soaking in honey scented bathwater to wind down from the overwhelmingly stressful and confusing day they had had. He was not looking forward to medieval night clothes that Harry would surely laugh at.
He had such flashbacks of memories throughout the day from all the old wizarding terms that he missed his Great Aunt Muriel with fervour. She had also, since he had known her, used the term 'Wix' instead of 'Wizarding'. She used to say, he fondly recalled, 'I am as magical as any wizard and this is my world too.' The time travel wasn't exactly something he was worried about. Although not common, it happened often enough that wizards were used to that sort of thing. Magic and the Council of Elders would most probably sort it out in time, he guessed.
What he did not understand, he thought, was contacting his paterfamilias. They would not know him, and could not be expected to care for him after not knowing him or any proof (which he certainly did not have). What he could comment on for sure was that his paterfamilias would have a hell of a time if he thought that Ron would leave his friends behind to move in with some family.
Hermione was scared. She was separated from Ron and Harry into another room with only a single set of furniture. She had been left with a short chemise and a long robe on her bed and her room had an en-suite. She had washed up and changed into a chemise that left her feeling naked and lied down.
Though the room was reasonably sized, she felt claustrophobic. Today they are in the same tower, she panicked, what if tomorrow their paterfamilias takes them away. And Harry would have a family in this time, she did not want to keep him away from them. Now truly on the verge of a panic attack, she pried open her door and ran towards the boys dorm.
Ron had changed into his long shirt and back into his boxers. The long shirt was a little short for his tall frame. Harry had laughed his head off, the tosser. He had just climbed into his bed when the door opened to reveal a Hermione covered in a robe, who looked like she was going to cry.
Ron jumped out of his bed, uncaring of what he was wearing and hurried to hug her. He had just wrapped his arms around her when she broke down crying. He turned his head and exchanged a 'what the hell' face with Harry, who had sat up in bed. While Ron gently shushed Hermione, who had turned her face into his neck, Harry got out from underneath his covers and turned down the third bed. Well, Harry thought, at least now we know why there is an extra one, though how they thought this is proper, he did not know.
Ron could feel tears hitting his neck, and for the first time, he realized how this must be for Hermione and Harry. Neither of them were exposed to news like this, which his father discussed after coming home from work and neither of them visited any wizarding communities where these sort of things happen. He guided Hermione to the bed where he sat her down and Harry sat on her other side.
Once she had calmed down, they had hurriedly joined two beds together and huddled into a pile on that bed, taking comfort from one another. Ron, the least ruffled of them, sat at the headboard cross-legged, with Hermione's head on his lap, and Harry curled under his left arm. He used his right arm to pet her hair, and his left to rub Harry's arm in comfort.
Suddenly, Harry's head bobbed up from Ron's shoulder. "Say, do either of you know what a wix is? Headmistress Wilkins used the word an awful lot."
"That's the term used for magical humans, Harry. 'Wizard' is the equivalent use in our time. Not the gender, but the collective word." Ron explained.
Hermione looked up at him, "I didn't know that. It's not in any books. How do you know?"
"My nan used to tell us stories. She's heard them from her nan," Ron said.
Hermione asked, "But then why do we call it the wizarding world now? Aren't we supposed to move forward and abandon prejudice, not earn it?"
"Um, well, it's inherited prejudice 'Mione. Not really ours. By the time the Statue had come into effect, muggle prejudices and opinions had already influenced us. So like muggles, we too acted patriarchal."
"We're not? I've only heard of Lords before, not Ladies. Even in the Wizengamot hearing." Harry further asked
"We're not. The Prewett family is matriarchal. It's just that most families have regents or have died out. Either way, they used to call it the Wix world, a world for wizards and witches."
Hermione might have the book smarts, but Ron was the one with the most social knowledge. Harry had the street smarts, and together the three of them had 'tried to achieve death and lost in the most innovative ways' according to Professor McGonagall.
"'Mione, do you know what an Augurium is? I know I've heard the term before, but I'm not really sure." Nice to know Ron had questions too, the day had thrown Harry off kilter and Ron's easy comfort was very welcome.
"Augurium is the place where augury happens. Augury is the ancient Roman practice of interpreting omens. I'm guessing it's this time's divination, though how time-travelling is connected to prophecy is a question." Well, Hermione still knows almost everything under the sun.
"Lovely, we'll have to deal with another loony Trewlany. What comfort!" Ron says sarcastically.
They were sitting in silence till Hermione said, idly tapping on Ron's leg. "What happens when they contact your paterfamilias' tomorrow? What if they decide to take you away and I'll be left here, alone without you two?"
Harry piped up, "Paterfamilias?"
"Head of the house," Hermione elaborated.
"They'll have a hell of a fight separating us. If Death Eaters and Snape couldn't do it, no one can." The three chuckled at Ron's reply.
The three laugh together into the night, and end up sleeping in a pile, warm and safe.
"Now that you all are here," Medice Bones glared, "we shall start." Clearly the Medice hated mornings or waiting or possibly people being late. But Ron had not wanted to risk being completely full and had eaten every crumb of the English Breakfast that had been waiting in the Common Room after their bath.
They were all dressed in yesterday's clothes, except for Hermione who had been given a tunic to wear instead of yesterday's shirt. Not very different, just a little langer, till her upper thigh.
Headmistress Wilkins, clearly anticipating a long day said, "We have a schedule to keep to, so you would not mind if we make haste." Her glare caused the two wizards to nod yes very quickly.
"First order of business will be to find your lineage, and figure out your current paterfamilias. Second, we shall meet them, explain the situation, get permission on future course of action regarding you staying here, do not panic. Third task, parchment work for Medice Bones. And finally, compilation of some belongings for you three. The last task may be done tomorrow but the rest have to be completed today."
The three nodded, already feeling the exhaustion lied ahead, though Hermione was a little apprehensive of a lineage spell. It sounded like a fantasy book. Say a few words and watch the names of everyone in your family appear.
"Now, first order of business, the lineage. Here, I have a stack of lineage parchment. These have been soaking in a potion of moondew for more exactly three moons. I always keep a set at hand for emergencies like yours. Now, Wd. Weasley, come and sit on the chair."
Headmistress Wilkins gestured to the set of desk and chair that was in the corner of the healing wing. Ron exchanged nervous glances with the other three about the unknown spell and moved towards the chair while the other two followed to make sure their friend wasn't in danger.
Ron sat, and a parchment was put in front of him, and studied the innocent looking parchment. Medice Bones handed him a pointed needle.
"Go ahead. Drop three drops of blood on the parchment while incanting 'sanguis sanguinem, sanguis revelare'. Three repetitions. One drop for each repetition. Drop them on the bottom of the parchment."
Ron repeated the incantation to Professor Wilkins who after correcting him a few times, signaled him to start.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." One drop.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." Two drops. The first shot up and moved to the right.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." Three drops. The second moved up and then left.
Medice Bones raised the wand and moving it drew a triangle and cut across it horizontally and incanted 'arcanum revelare'.
Everyone saw as all three drops of blood started moving in a peculiar pattern. The end result to Harry, looked like a bird of some kind. Headmistress Wilkins nodded and said, "The Prewett Family. Lady Ciarra Prewett if I'm not wrong. And I have a horde of Weasleys too, no doubt."
She looked exasperated and then suspiciously at Ron like he was going to pull out a dungbomb and throw it at her. Harry considered the twins for a few seconds and realized that that was exactly what Wilkins thought Ron would do. Weasley's aka Fred and George aka Mischief makers. Glad to see it ran in the family.
Hermione though looked ready to take out a notebook and start taking notes about everything. At least, Harry thought, she isn't raising her hand to ask a question.
"Shouldn't it be the Weasley family, Ron? And what exactly is that symbol?" Hermione, the ever reliable one. Curious as a cat.
"Nah 'Mione. I identify more with mum, what with her being my matriarch and you know, my mum. And that is the Prewett crow. God feeds the Ravens, that's the family motto." Ron, at least, had grown up knowing his family history.
Hopefully, Harry would also meet his family and learn some of his history. Admittedly, it was more historical than anything he had hoped to find, but anything was better than nothing.
Ron got up from the chair and moved behind it as Headmistress Wilkins moved Ron's parchment aside and laid a new one in its place. "Wd. Potter, if you would."
Hermione gave him a pat on the back as he moved to sit and Ron put a hand on his shoulder. Harry repeated the incantation to Professor Wilkins and once she was satisfied, followed the same procedure as Ron.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." One drop.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." Two drops. The first shot up and moved to the right.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." Three drops. The second moved up and then left.
Medice Bones raised the wand and moving it drew a triangle and cut across it horizontally and incanted 'arcanum revelare'. The blood starts moving, drawing until it looks almost exactly like a stag.
"Harry, that's your patronus!" Ron exclaims. Beside him, Hermione quietly adds, "also his dad's animagus."
Headmistress Wilkins frowned at the paper. "What's wrong, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"That symbol is familiar but I do not know foreign crests well. Wd. Potter, do you know anything about your family?"
"I am an orphan ma'am. No known family. I've always thought I'm Indian but I can't be sure. No one has ever told me." At Harry's reply Headmistress Wilkins shakes her head in disappointment and states, "Well, we'll just have to flip through the Compendium of Crests in my office to figure out your house. And your heritage. Next"
The three look at each other and then Hermione tells the Headmistress, "Ma'am, I'm a muggleborn. No known Wiza- I mean Wix family.'
"Don't be stupid, witch. Stop dragging your feet and sit down. We have a very long day ahead of us." She was clearly annoyed at the delay, Ron thought.
Hermione, though, had geared up, "I am a muggleborn. Born to two muggle dent- um- tooth healers. I do not have wix relations."
Headmistress Wilkins looked at Hermione closely, and then said, "How curious. You really believe you were born to two muggles. No such thing exists, child."
"My parents are not wiza- wix" Hermione retaliates.
"Well, of course not. They are most probably squibs, child." Headmistress Wilkins says gently.
Hermione, who had never known the possibility or thought of it, was floored.
"But that's not possible. I've known both sets of my grandparents. There are so many muggleborns in Hogwarts." Harry and Ron both move to stand beside Hermione.
"Magic is not a disease, child." She looks at them, "You cannot acquire it. It is in your blood. It is like your hair. Even the possibility of those frizzy curls is locked in your essence. Your birth just happened to unlock it in you."
"You mean to say that magic is in genetic - um- blood lineage?" Well at least someone was understanding this conversation, though Harry had understood the basics of it. Ron looked like he had tuned them out completely.
"Exactly. Magic is like that, locked in blood, if you can use it then your parents have it. They can either have the ability to use it or not, but they have it." Harry and Ron wondered if all Heads were required to be omniscient, knowing everything under the sun.
"What of squibs then? Their parents are magic, how do they not have access to it?" Hermione, an embodiment of when Crookshanks sees a mouse.
"That is why breeding with muggles should be declared illegal. Binds our core. Muggles have no magic, and wix have magic like blood. As an average, we have weaker magical cores in children. And if this keeps us, later on we have what you call squibs. You'll learn in more detail in your classes, but that is the gist of it."
Hermione looked shocked for a few seconds, as if she was considering this new information and then nodded decisively and sat on the chair.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." One drop.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." Two drops. The first shot up and moved to the right.
"Sanguis sanguinem sanguis revelare." Three drops. The second moved up and then left.
Medice Bones raised the wand and moving it drew a triangle and cut across it horizontally and incanted 'arcanum revelare'. The blood starts moving, drawing until it forms an owl.
"Wisdom over wealth. Appropriate. You look Greek too. Your family just crossed the ley lines here. Your paterfamilias would be Lady Athene Pallas, one of your cousins just completed his studies here. He's just starting his mastery next term, so you will have a chance to learn family traditions from him."
Quickly ushering them towards her office, Headmistress Wilkins calls out behind her, "Medice Bones, start the parchment work please. We'll come fill them out after lunch. By supper, at the latest."
"The clan of Raghu, India. Family crest is a deer with exactly twelve antler points. Current paterfamilias, Aditya. Floo Address, Ramniwas, Ayodhya. Perfect." Headmistress Wilkins seemed excited for the first time since she saw them.
Harry was shaking with nerves at the thought of having a family which might actually like him. He had never known a family that would care for him, love him like their own, give him food and hugs, and goodnight kisses.
"Professor Wilkins, where are all the students? I've never known Hogwarts to be empty before." Now that Ron thought about Hermione was right. There was at least one other student even during winter holidays.
"It's the summer. They are all at home, seeing their families. With the recent rise in witch hunts, all families have gone into wards." Professor Wilkins said as she puttered around for floo powder.
"With a summer spent underneath them, they'll all be safe for a coming year." Like the wards around Harry's house.
"Like Blood wards?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"That is something for your warding professor to answer. I am afraid I don't know much on the subject, being a Brewer. Ah ha. Found it." Professor Wilkins found a bronze jar in the cabinet and moved towards the fireplace.
She knelt, threw some powder into the fireplace and called out, "Lady Athene Pallas, Minerva Kastra, Athens." The face of a house elf popped up from the fireplace, "Phylo be helping you how?"
"I am Headmistress Wilkins from Hogwarts. And I would like to speak to Lady Pallas about an urgent matter, post haste."
"Phylo be telling Lady Pallas. You is to be waiting here till Phylo is being back."
The trio was curiously looking at the scene playing out, excited about Hermione having a proper wizarding family.
A head full of curly hair almost exactly like Hermione's appears in the fireplace.
"How may I assist the Headmistress of Hogwarts today?" A heavily accented voice asked.
Lady Athena Pallas' head was incredibly close to what Hermione's head looked like. She had curly hair and her skin, though tinged orange from the fire, looked to be as milky as Hermione's with eyes that looked to be brown. All in all, and older Hermione with a slightly larger forehead and tinier nose, although her hair seemed to have been tied into an updo that made the curls look regal.
"There has been an emergency. Could you please step through for a few moments?" Lady Pallas, though she looked surprised, nodded her head and Headmistress Wilkins stepped back a few steps from the fireplace.
Lady Athena Pallas was a tall, slender witch who moved with grace in every twitch. She wore a white coloured traditional stola that looked like a sheet had been draped over a shapeless dress that had a golden belt.
"Excuse my casual wear. I did not expect to be in company today." If that was casual wear, Hermione thought, I do not want to see formal wear. Lady Pallas stopped in her tracks and stared at Hermione for a few seconds before demanding, "Are you Orion's or Eryx's?"
Hermione stammered a little before straightening up and replying, "Neither's, ma'am."
"You expect me to believe that you, an almost exact replica of me, are not sired by one of my idiot brothers? You are certainly not mine or my parents'" She walked over to sit on one of the sofas in the corner area and neatly crossed one leg under another.
"Lady Pallas, that is what we are here to discuss. If I could infringe on you to wait for a few
Moments, I shall collect the guardians of the others and explain the situation." Headmistress Wilkins took charge of the situation. At lady Pallas's nod, she continued.
She repeated the process of the fireplace, this time calling out, "Lady Ciarra Prewett, Prewett Manor, Wilforshire."
This time a woman clearly related to Molly Weasley's face looked into the fire. "Yes? Headmistress Wilkins? Is it Septimus and Gloria again? They promised me they won't set any traps to go up in the holidays. I shall be very cross with them."
Headmistress Wilkins stopped her in the middle of what was clearly going to be a rant and said, "No no. This is for something else. If you could please step through. Although the management of the twins is much appreciated," she added as an afterthought.
Lady Ciarra stepped through and looked almost exactly how you would imagine a woman of her disposition to look like. Motherly, with a full figure, fun-sized and dressed in what looked like a midi with flowers embroidered all across it, she had a beautiful red robe over the dress.
"Oh! Another Prewett! Now why do I not see you at any gatherings, young man. You are supposed to be under the wards right now!" She had looked at Ron and immediately started in on him. Clearly it was a Prewett trait that had lasted centuries.
"Ciarra, he is not one of yours. Not traditionally. If you could have a seat, I have one person left to call, and then I'll explain the situation."
Lady Prewett looked ready to argue, but then she huffed out an "Oh! Alright" and sat on a settee near Lady Pallas.
Headmistress checked in her Compendium again before repeating the process for a third and final time.
"Lord Aditya, Ramniwas, Ayodhya."
This time a young lady's head was seen in the fireplace and she said something in a language that no one understood. However, on hearing the language a long forgotten feeling of comfort washed over Harry. He wondered if his dad had ever spoken to him in the same language.
When her words sparked no response, she looked at them more closely and said "Namaste, how may I help you?"
Headmistress Wilkins was clearly used to steering in unknown waters as she jumped in and said, "I am Headmistress Heliotrope Wilkins of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizards in Britain. I have an urgent matter to discuss with Lord Aditya."
"Please wait a moment." Her head vanished and within a minute, a man stepped through. Though the other two lords and ladies had resembled their wayward wards a little, the only thing this man had in common with Harry was the slightly tan skin tone.
Where Harry was lanky and five foot five inches at most with his bones showing, this man was definitely over six foot and lightly muscled. His black hair vaguely resembled Harry's hair in it's unruly curls, but where Harry's was cut short with only a fringe to hide his scar, this man had the top half of his hair in a bun, with the lower half reaching his shoulders.
He wore something that looked like a cross between robes and a muggle suit. A tunic split on the side over what looked like leggings underneath.
His voice, rough with an accent, said, "Why is a British Headmistress asking for me?"
"Lord Aditya, if you could take a seat," she gestured over to the seating area where Lady Prewett and Lady Pallas were sitting, "I'll explain the entire situation to you."
"I am taking him with me. He needs to learn about the family and our traditions. He cannot learn that in a foreign school." Lord Aditya screamed.
"I am sitting right here and I am going nowhere! Hogwarts is my home. I didn't even know about your existence before today, I am NOT going with you!" Harry screamed back.
Headmistress Wilkins had her head in her hand as the two wizards continued shouting. That was how the past two hours had passed. Screamings, demands and denials.
Finally losing her patience, she cast a privacy ward, separating herself and the lord from Harry.
Harry could see them talking, but hear nothing. Everything past the barrier seemed to be hazy. He was on the verge of panic. They were going to take him away. He wanted family, but not at the cost of Hermione and Ron and Hogwarts!
A few minutes later the ward fell and Lord Aditya looked like he had calmed down sufficiently while Headmistress Wilkins looked proud of herself.
Lord Aditya looked at Harry and said, "Very well. The headmistress has assured me you will be safe here and that overwhelming you is a bad idea. But, you need to learn about our traditions. How much training have you had?"
Harry had a feeling this conversation might end up repeating the old conversation. "I'm an orphan. No other Potter exists. I didn't even know for sure I was Indian before today."
The lord had turned redder with every word, and looked ready to burst at the end. He visibly breathed to calm himself down and grit out, "And no one knew your parents? No friends who could tell you about the family your father belonged to?"
Harry could feel himself getting upset and explained the situation with Sirius (making it seem as normal as he could).
"But he's out now, is he not? Has been for a while, you said. Why not tell you?" Lord Aditya pointed out.
"I don't know, okay. I don't know" Harry burst out. "I could have had a family, but no one ever told me. I had to live with the Dursleys for so long."
"Why didn't you take a lineage test and contact India like the Headmistress did here? Why wasn't the Headmistress of your time?" He asked.
"I don't know, okay! I don't know. Not even Professor Dumbledore told me. I didn't even know there was a test like this. Even then, blood magic is illegal in my time." Harry defended himself.
Suddenly Lord Aditya knelt down to look directly into Harry's eyes and said, "I want you to repeat after me." Once Harry nodded he said a word and asked Harry to repeat it before correcting him. Although his brain wasn't familiar with the words, his tongue clearly knew how to pronounce the words.
Harry repeated it and then Lord Aditya said, "That is our family motto. A rough translation of it means 'we give up our lives but not our word'. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Harry nodded. "Promise before life," he said quietly. His parents had certainly adhered to it. They gave up their life for him. To keep their promise of protecting him from all harm.
Lord Aditya looked pleased and then looking him dead in the eye said, "I want you home for every holiday and a few celebrations. Also, along with your Hogwarts classes you will learn Hindi and Sanskrit."
"So that's it. That's all you want? And you'll let me stay here?" Harry asked suspiciously. In his experience there were always caveats to these deals.
"Your word and some extra classes, in exchange for your arrangements here at Hogwarts with my blessing and protection." The Lord agreed.
Just as Harry was about to agree, there was a knock on the Headmistress' door. She had been quietly observing the pair's negotiation and had startled at the sudden sound. She waved her hand and the door opened, revealing Hermione and Lady Pallas.
"Hermione and I have agreed to let her stay here at Hogwarts as long as she takes Greek classes from Celia when term resumes. I'll expect her home every time Celia returns as well. She's going to be following all Greek traditions here at Hogwarts." Well, at least Harry wasn't the only one who had a lot of conjunctions to stay at Hogwarts.
Lunch was a highly tense affair. Everyone sat in a round table in an antechamber in the tower to have lunch and the four adults kept shooting each other looks, each one filled with questions and suspicion. Although, what really made the situation awkward for the trio was the fact that the suspicious looks weren't aimed for each other but for the situation the three had come in.
Their stories had clearly been full of holes and the adults had realized that. What with Hermione trying to explain why she thought she was a muggleborn and therefore didn't know her history which sparked a conversation about introduction to magical studies. Which led to why exams were cancelled in her second year.
Hermione still didn't know how, but over a discussion of magic and knowledge Lady Pallas had managed to innocently ask questions that honestly, were related to all the rule/law breaking they had gotten into at Hogwarts. Side-stepping those, had led to awkward gaps in her stories, which the Lady had clearly caught onto. For example, why Hermione knew how to brew Polyjuice.
Ron, on the other hand, realized that he really wasn't the best chess player of all time. His ancestor had managed to trounce him pretty strongly while smiling motherly and asking about his family. Talk about the money problems had led to the topic of a fine (which had slipped out unknowingly) which had led to him changing the topic, which had led to a talk on pets, which had also turned awkward.
By the end of the ordeal, Ron had lost the game and left the conversation with such holes that even cheese would be ashamed. Lady Prewett had walked out victorious with a deep frown and questions to the brim.
Harry, meanwhile, had caused suspicion in another way. While the other two tried their best to steer conversation into safe topics, Harry had staunchly refused to talk about any topic that would cause upset. Like family, his health, his studies, his magic and pretty much everything that was Harry.
Lord Aditya's eyes raked over his scrawny form and his knobbly fingers and the dreadful haircut and glasses. He did not understand how his clan of royal hunters could have spawned a child with glasses as thick as his hand.
So, while the four adults tried to figure out whether all of their charges were similarly tongue locked on their lives, the three teens tried to communicate their conversations to each other with their expressions and body language.
Hermione raised her eyebrow, 'Did you two tell anything?'
Ron shrugged, 'most probably', and then looked over at Lady Ciarra with narrowed eyes, 'she's shrewd'.
Harry just pursed his mouth, 'I kept my mouth shut'. And then looked sheepish, 'that made it more evident though'.
Hermione just shook her head and frowned, ' I didn't say anything but she knows something is up'.
Ron looked at Harry and ran his finger through his hair 'told him about your scar'.
Harry just looked at Ron incredulously 'Are you out of it?'
"Are you three done yet? It's a little disconcerting to watch you have a conversation without words." Lady Pallas' dry words broke them out of their conversation.
"At least we know they trust and know each other. That eliminates them feeling alone here." Said Lady Ciarra.
"What I want to know is what these three are hiding. It is clearly important enough that they are risking covert communications about it here, under our noses." Lord Aditya said.
"Maybe, this is a conversation for when we are all a little settled down. Maybe post getting the young students here some necessities?" It was heartwarming to know that the Headmistress was willing to keep the peace and help them out before satiating her curiosity.
Back in the Headmistress' office, she gave the three students familiar envelopes. Each of the envelopes addressed to their names with the location of her office in Hogwarts underneath their names. Their acceptance letters. To attend Hogwarts in 1358.
"Obviously, your replies are not needed considering you're sitting right here. But I have a feeling our list of supplies varies a little."
The three opened their mails to take out the shopping list and goggled at the list. 'Varies a little' was a huge understatement. It couldn't be more different.
"Now, I warn you. That is a standard first year list. I assume you have chosen your fields of study. So once we evaluate your level of education we'll tailor a new list." The pandemonium started before Headmistress Wilkins finished her warning.
"Where are the books? We can't study without our books!" Hermione screamed.
"It doesn't say anything about brooms! What about Quidditch!" Ron screamed. Or asked. It sounded a mixture of the two.
"What do you mean by weapon? We learn a sword?" Harry asked.
"Plain black work robes? We've been sorted already! It's supposed to be a red and gold embellished one!" Ron asked.
"Why do we need a family crest cloak pin? Uniform means equality!" Hermione objected.
"Really fur? Wicked" Harry just looked excitedly at his list.
The supply list covered:
Uniform:
Three sets of plain black work robes (Variations are fine as long as no embellishments are added)
Family crest cloak pin
One pair protective gloves (Dragonhide or otherwise of at least of 2 mm thickness)
Summer cloak with hood
Winter cloak with hood (fur lined in somber colours)
Standard London Satchel
Materials:
Parchment (at least fifty rolls, seven collated parchment binders)
Four sets of Quills (Standard size 10 inches, goose or otherwise)
Ink (All colors are acceptable, black for essays)
Sharpening blades (2 units)
Other Equipment:
One weapon (with sheath)
One Standard Potion Ingredients Box (Slug's stalls at Guildable Manor Market only)
One cauldron (Standard Size 2, Copper lined)
One Rune Carving set (Stone or Copper)
One set phials (Crystal or glass)
One telescope
PLEASE NOTE: Familiars are allowed as long as you can control them.
"Calm down, children" Headmistress Wilkins said while the three Ladies and Lord suppressed their urge to clap their hands over their ears at the noise the three teenage wix could make.
She frowned at Hermione and said, "Finding three sets of Handwritten books of the same kind are impossible and the copying charm doesn't work on them. You can borrow and share from the library as required."
To Ron she said, "That list is standard. Your guardians can help with your house embellishments and I will provide the house crest to be sewn on, as is custom. Yes, Quidditch brooms are allowed for you."
She turned to Harry and said, "Of course fur. Unless you can maintain a warming charm for hours. Yes, a weapon. To learn to defend yourself. That is what the Defencive Ars are about. I thought you three had been studying for five years by now. How do you not know the necessities?"
Hermione just frowned and said, "You didn't answer my question about the uniform. Also I have a feeling our classes were vastly different from this time. I took ancient runes as an OWL elective and even we haven't gotten around to using a rune set."
"Wc. Pallas, I haven't answered your question because of the situation. You thought you were born to muggles and Wd. Harry here, hasn't ever known his family. The question would be better answered by your families." Headmistress Wilkins gently stated. Lady Pallas on the other hand had a severe frown on her face while Lord Aditya looked stoically at the three.
"What I don't understand is how different your classes were. A rune set is used by youngsters. I used mine when I was barely five." Lady Pallas said.
"They don't know their languages, their histories, and now they don't know their basic magic. What has happened to the future," Lord Aditya asked Lady Pallas.
"Clearly shopping is out of the question before we figure out their levels of education and their needs. Classes will need to be tailored specially according to their needs." Headmistress Wilkins looked genuinely worried about the state of their education while Hermione frowned at their words.
Hogwarts was supposed to be the best wizarding school in Europe for centuries. Now, Hogwarts itself was telling them that the knowledge they gained from her in future was not up to par.
"As it stands, I feel that a health work up is the most important thing for now, Headmistress Wilkins. We can each arrange for basic necessities in the meantime, but we need to know that these young wix are healthy and not in danger." Lady Ciarra said.
The trio paled at her words and Hermione as well as Ron stared at Harry, who in turn rubbed at his hand, where the words scarred, 'I will not tell lies'.
"I don't think that's necessary. And anyways, Headmistress Wilkins had Medice Bones see to us when we came," Harry objected.
"That was because you told me you arrived from a battle. That was a basic patch up that Medice Bones did. What you need is a work up of your entire history," Headmistress Wilkins explained.
"We're healthy as you can see. I don't think there is any need for another round in the Healing wing," Ron tried.
"Your health has to be recorded for any future issues. In case you contract any diseases you aren't protected against, given you have not been exposed to diseases of this era," Lord Aditya stated.
"I don't see why you're objecting. It will take a few minutes. Now come along."
Fate sealed, the party walked towards the Healing Wing.