Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists
Disclaimer: I can only hope to attain the creative brilliance of J. K Rowling.
AN: This story is AU after OOTP.
Blast From The Past
Ron stood back in front of Luna, poised on the balls of his feet, as if preparing for sudden movement, but he did not move. The four remaining began to look warily around at the walls and ceiling, as they began to tremble slightly.
"What the hell is going on?" Ron asked, confusion and frustration evident in his voice, but not really expecting an answer. Luna was standing serenely in front of the door, a small enigmatic smile curving her lips slightly. "Luna! They could be in trouble! Let me go in there!" He made a move as if to charge the door again, but Ginny's hand on his arm gave him pause. "Ginny, what are you doing? Don't you understand - Harry and Hermione are up there!"
Just as suddenly the rumbling slowed and then stopped. There was absolute silence in the castle.
"Luna - " Ron began again, warningly. In reply, Luna gestured with her wand and the large door swung inward on its hinges. Ron darted through it, pulling out his wand as he ran, but Luna stopped him with her voice, before he could even place one foot on the bottommost stair.
"They're not up there," she stated calmly.
"What the hell are you on about?" Ron exclaimed. "Of course, they're up there. They just went up there…unless - what did you do to them?" he asked, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.
"Ron!" Ginny said suddenly in a horrified tone. Luna appeared to take no offense at his question.
"What has happened has been foreordained. It has happened before, and will happen again," she said, in a lilting way that was very nearly a chant.
"What do you mean `it has happened before'? We've never been here before!" Ron said angrily, choosing to take Luna literally. Before anyone else could comment, he dashed up the stairs. They heard his footsteps fade away as he ascended the rough steps.
A moment later, he returned, his face ashen and dejected. "There's no one up there. I don't understand - where could they have gone?" He glared daggers at Luna, as if she had somehow been personally responsible for their disappearance. She looked unfazed at his accusatory glance.
"They're in Avalon," Luna said simply, as if that explained everything. Malfoy coughed something that sounded like "nutters" into his hand.
Ron looked as if he were evenly divided between the options of laughing, crying, or throttling Luna Lovegood.
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
It was as if the entire universe, as they knew it, was rotating, and they were standing stationary in the center of it. Harry was aware of Hermione's tight grip on his sleeve, but was not conscious of much else, other than the interminable whirling.
Then it began to slow down, and finally it stopped, causing Harry and Hermione to waver slightly on barely bent knees, like people standing carefully on a floor prone to lurching suddenly and unexpectedly beneath their feet.
Hermione brushed a recalcitrant strand of hair from her eyes, and looked around, her eyes watering a little in the brilliant light.
"Where are we?"
"We're still here," Harry said in wonder, looking around. "We're still in Avalon." The enormous time turner stood before them, still appearing to be on the far side of the room, when it actually was not.
"But - but we're not…" Hermione protested, squinting at the sun slanting in the window. "It was late morning. Look at the sun! It's late afternoon now."
"Well, we only lost a few hours then," Harry said cheerfully. "The others are probably frantic. I wonder why nobody followed us up here," he frowned, as the thought occurred to him. Hermione had walked slowly over to the window, in such a distracted way as to look almost like someone other than herself was controlling her footsteps.
She laid her hands, palm down, on the warm stone of the sunny windowsill, and leaned forward to look out. The glass was weather-stained and blurry with age. The sunlight sparkled off of the water, which appeared very blue, and beyond that, verdant green fields, dotted with trees extended as far as she could see.
Harry! Avalon has moved! We're not in the ocean anymore! She called out urgently, and Harry walked to the window to peer over her shoulder.
"Well, bloody hell," was Harry's useful comment. "At least now we're…" he stopped abruptly, and leaned further over her shoulder, squinting into the sunlight that glared off of his glasses. She could feel his breath on her neck. Hermione saw it at the same time.
"People!" she exclaimed suddenly, nearly breathlessly. "There's someone over there! We could find out where we are… we could get word - I know Mum and Dad…and the Weasleys! They must be frantic with worry by now." She was rattling on at a breathtaking pace, and was nearly to the top of the curving stone staircase, when Harry stopped her with a simple wordless command.
What? She sent to him, her tone unmistakably annoyed.
Hermione, we still don't know why we came here. We don't know where we are, and we also don't know when we are, Harry said calmly.
But we're still in Avalon…it looks exactly as it did when the time turner activated, she thought hesitantly, feeling a little foolish.
And how old is Avalon? Harry countered, bringing Hermione to a standstill. Color crept up her cheeks, as she silently berated herself for not thinking of that.
And of course, Harry heard every word. He held his arms out to her, and she came willingly into them.
"Harry, I - I wasn't thinking…" she admitted softly, staring out the window behind him, with her cheek against his arm.
"Listen, I don't think we can stay up here forever… but we ought to check the lay of the land, before we go revealing ourselves to anyone. It probably won't be a big deal - or wouldn't, if Avalon hadn't moved. I mean, time turners can't send people back very far, can they?" He phrased the question almost as a rhetorical one, but one look at Hermione's face made him wonder what he'd said wrong. "Hermione?" She was still staring out the turret window, and the color had fled from her face.
"Look," she said, unable to get her voice above a whisper. He turned from where he was half-leaning, half-sitting against the window. Very distantly, on the shores of the lake in which they sat, was a regal figure on a horse. The horse was clad in vivid saddle blankets, and the person atop it glinted in the sun.
"Is he wearing…armor?" Harry asked cautiously, pressing his forehead to the glass. The sheer brilliance of the sun precluded some of their ability to see clearly.
"That's not possible," Hermione uttered hoarsely. "Time turners can't - "
"Obviously they can, Hermione!" Harry said, more sharply than he intended. "Portkeys aren't supposed to be able to send people to a place that's Randomized either." He recalled their conversation from when they had first arrived on the island.
"How do we get back?" Hermione asked, her eyes drifting over the impossibly huge form of the time turner.
"Maybe if we…" Harry trailed off, walking back over to the time turner, gently touching one of the now motionless rings. Nothing happened. The time turner stood as imposingly still as if it had never moved at all. He took a little more confidence, and this time, gripped the ring, its circumference too wide for his fingers to completely encircle, and shook it with all his strength. Nothing happened - he hadn't even caused so much as a quiver of movement.
"It's not going to move until it's ready to move," Hermione said, sounding suddenly like Luna. At Harry's dubious look, she flushed defensively. "I know how it sounds. But the time turner brought us here for a purpose…I guess we have to fulfill that purpose before we can go back."
"That doesn't sound like analytical, by-the-book Hermione," Harry remarked. "How do we know that this wasn't something completely random? We stumbled on some kind of ancient super-powerful time turner and accidentally activated it."
"Because it's you, Harry," Hermione said, matter-of-factly, staring him down. "Nothing involving you has ever been a coincidence. Why did Luna wait to open that door? How did she know how to open that door? Because someone told her when it was going to happen and how to open it! I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she had arranged the portkeys as well."
"Luna - but she - she doesn't seem like the type to - I thought she was on our side…" Harry said, in a surprised and betrayed tone.
"I never said she wasn't on our side," Hermione continued calmly. "But, look Harry - time is involved here. Someone who already knew this was going to happen told Luna what to do, to make it happen. Do you see?"
Harry nodded vaguely, though he wasn't sure that he did actually see. "Who could know it happened - er, was going to happen?" He shook his head suddenly, as if dispelling an unwanted mental image. "This is giving me a headache," he added.
"Maybe it was us!" She exclaimed suddenly, her eyes lighting up. "Maybe we tell Luna that…" she trailed off, looking slightly bereft.
"How are we going to tell Luna - or anybody, for that matter - anything? Correct me if I'm wrong, Hermione, but it doesn't exactly look like we're in our own century anymore!" Hermione could feel the waves of frustration buffeting her lightly, but she knew they weren't really directed at her, but at their situation.
"Well, we're not going to get any answers holed up in here," Hermione said in a clipped tone. "Let's go."
Hermione! He called out in protest, but got no reply. With a resigned sigh, he followed her down the staircase.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
The horseman was nearly directly opposite them as they exited the castle from its wide front doors. At a point near the doors, the island reached out to nearly touch the mainland, spanned by a short footbridge without a railing, probably not even 20 meters across. Harry thought he saw the rider give the castle a nervous glance, and spur his horse on faster.
Hermione calmly walked out onto the green, her feet scarcely leaving imprints on the grass, and began to cross the footbridge.
Hermione, will you wait just a second? Harry hollered out after her, and kicked himself into a fast walk to catch up. But it was too late; the horseman had seen them both, and had drawn his horse up sharply, causing it to rear and neigh shrilly. His eyes were wide with fear and disbelief, and Harry's hand groped for his wand, as the rider drew his sword.
"What manner of devilry is this?" the man said; his voice was strident, but his eyes were wary.
What the hell are you planning on saying? Harry asked Hermione challengingly, as he too crossed the bridge, and stepped up beside her on the mainland. Hermione's eyes were brilliantly alert; she seemed to be taking in much more information than he was even capable of processing. But then he saw her glance over her shoulder and pale visibly.
He looked back as well, and saw the island, no longer clear and brightly visible, as the mainland had been from their vantage point, but shrouded in fog, so that the castle was completely obscured. The wooden footbridge appeared to vanish into the thick mist.
"What business have you on the forbidden island? Naught but madmen venture there. And how came you across the water?"
Harry looked over his shoulder again, in confusion. The bridge was in plain sight. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione quickly intervened.
It must be invisible to Muggles or something.
What the hell? Harry exclaimed helpfully. So he thinks we bloody well walked on water? That's perfect.
The knight lowered his sword, so that it was more directly pointed at them. "Speak quickly. The lord Gryffindor will not take kindly to such oddly dressed vagrants wandering about his lands - especially those that commit such heinous acts of sorcery."
Harry and Hermione exchanged bemused glances. Gryffindor? Heinous acts of sorcery? Harry echoed.
We've got to get him to take us to Gryffindor… obviously the fact that he is a wizard is not known. I didn't think about the possibility of his being noble in the Muggle world too. Hermione thought quickly.
We don't know that it's Godric Gryffindor - what if it's one of his resentful Squib descendents? Harry said, only half joking. Hermione gave him a dirty look.
"Might we see Lord Gryffindor, good sir?" Hermione ventured, a little awkwardly. "We have journeyed quite far to bring him a message."
The knight's eyes darted suspiciously from Hermione to Harry. "You let your lady speak for you, sir?"
"It is always such a pleasure when she speaks, sir," Harry replied, unblushingly, but not looking at Hermione. The knight's features softened.
"Ah, yes, I remember when I was in the bloom of new love as well. Hearing my wife's voice does give me much pleasure even still." Then his eyes roamed back to the mist-enshrouded island, and he seemed to remember what he had seen them doing.
"I will take you to Lord Gryffindor, if only so that you both be under his watchful eye - and the swords and horse of his garrison. Come, you must needs walk, but the distance is not great." He spurred his horse to a slow trot, circling around so that he was behind Harry and Hermione, and could keep them under watch.
Was that his way of warning us not to try anything funny? Harry asked.
I think so, Hermione replied, worry creasing her brow.
They walked on in what seemed like total silence, although they were occasionally communicating with each other. Not much time had passed before they topped a small rise, and saw the snapping pennants and gay banners fixed upon the stone walls of a large house just on the top of a hill opposite. A small river wound its way between the keep and where they stood, and they could see guards standing on the small bridge that spanned it. The stone wall enclosing the main building, also surrounded many thatched outbuildings of various sizes. The distance seemed vast, and Harry sighed.
Wish we could just Apparate. But I guess we'd be burned at the stake or something.
Wrong century, Harry. Hermione chided, absent-mindedly, watching the bustling keep, her eyes squinting against the slanting late afternoon sun.
"Behold Gryphon Keep," the knight intoned in a solemn and ceremonial way. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.
If he's so very attached to Lord Gryffindor, how is it that he knows no magic? Hermione wondered.
Maybe he does, and he thinks we're Muggles, Harry posited. Hermione slanted him a dubious look.
Yeah, we're Muggles who came from Avalon and walk on water, she said sarcastically. Harry shrugged and conceded her point.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
They made it past the guards on the bridge with very little fanfare or inquiry. It seemed that the knight escorting them, whom they heard addressed as Aetheryd, was someone held in high esteem by the Lord Gryffindor. Harry could tell that Hermione was really starting to tire, as they covered the vast flat field, dotted with small houses, on their way to the main house.
How ironic would it be if Harry Potter spent the rest of his days languishing in the dungeons of Godric Gryffindor? Harry thought idly.
Harry, that's not funny. Hermione said; she was frowning.
Sure it is. Can you die before you're born?
Harry! The reprimand was sharper this time, the retort echoing shrilly in his head. He reached over and took her hand in his, by way of apology.
They walked the rest of the way to the castle in silence, and when they arrived at the gate, Aetheryd spoke to the guards there in some quick dialect that neither of them understood.
Could be Welsh maybe, or Gaelic, Hermione supposed, as the gates swung open with an almost ominous creak.
The hall was made out of huge rough stone, adorned with tapestries and wall sconces, bearing already lit, flickering torches. Rushes were strewn on the floors, and gave their feet an odd shuffling sound as they stood before another large, metal-studded door, presumably leading into some kind of Great Hall.
"Wait here," Aetheryd said tersely. He seemed anxious, though not with the dread of a subservient reporting back to his master, but with the anticipation of someone seeing another much beloved person, after a protracted absence.
A moment later, he reappeared, holding the door open for them, and ushering them into the large room, rather formally. A hale-looking, well-built man sat in a large, carven wood chair at the far end of the hall, the floor of which was lined with a long, faded runner, richly woven, but obviously very old.
"The Lord Godric Gryffindor," Aetheryd intoned, and Harry and Hermione exchanged amazed glances as they proceeded up the length of the hall to where Gryffindor sat. Hermione curtseyed, as if she did it every day, while Harry gawked at her for a moment, before attempting an only slightly clumsy bow. They hesitantly stammered their names.
"Aetheryd tells me you've been on the misty isle?" He said, without preamble, somehow not really phrasing it as a question. "And you bring a message?"
Yes, and tell us what the message is? Harry said a little snippily, looking pointedly at Hermione.
"We - we've come - " Hermione was obviously groping for words, but then took a deep breath and finished with a rush, as inspiration hit. "We've come to speak with you regarding Hogwarts."
Something - excitement, incredulity? - flared quickly in Gryffindor's eyes, and he leaned forward in interest, before catching himself and abruptly dismissing Aetheryd.
"How do you know of Hogwarts?" he asked, his voice low and intense, as the large doors clanged closed behind his knight. "I've only begun to discuss the matter with - "
"Helga and Rowena?" Hermione interrupted boldly. Gryffindor opened his mouth and then closed it again.
"I'll ask you again: how do you know of Hogwarts?" His voice was more guarded, and Hermione wondered if she'd said too much too soon.
"We go to school there," Harry said abruptly, looking the nobleman straight in the eye. There was the flash in Gryffindor's eyes again, as he regarded Harry carefully.
He did not ask, "How is that possible?" but a rather odd question for anyone save a wizard to ask in this situation. "When?"
"About a thousand years from now," Harry said faintly, sure that they would be thrown in the dungeons for this overt madness.
Gryffindor stood suddenly, and began to pace around his large wooden chair, apparently deep in furious thought. "How?"
"There's - there's a time turner…on the misty island," Hermione ventured. "The - the castle on the island is - is Avalon."
"Avalon?" Gryffindor seemed to have a habit of speaking in quick, clipped sentences. "King Arthur's Avalon?" Harry and Hermione both nodded in response. Gryffindor paced a moment longer, and then turned suddenly, spinning on one heel, and came up to Harry, grabbing him roughly under the chin, and looking intently into his face.
"You have - you are - but that's not possible!" He asked suddenly, looking oddly overcome, and somehow angry. Harry and Hermione exchanged bewildered looks. "You have Lilliane's eyes," the lord said tersely, as if that explained his outburst. Harry and Hermione remained silent, unsure what was safe to say.
Lilliane's eyes? Hermione asked, enunciating the first syllables of the name.
The blood of Gryffindor runs on my mother's side? Harry said, uncomprehendingly. But she - she was Muggle-born.
She must have been descended from a long line of Squibs, so long that the magical blood had been forgotten, Hermione theorized.
"Please milord," Harry said, "Who is Lilliane?"
"She was my sister," Gryffindor replied, in the tone one uses when one wants to close the door to a topic of discussion.
"I have my mother's eyes," Harry ventured, unsure why he was telling the nobleman this. "Her name was Lily." The two men looked at each other, seeming to simultaneously sympathize and take one another's measure. "We - I - my mother was - " Harry floundered, finally finishing, "her parents had no magical powers. But - but - when we - we arrived at Avalon, I was singled out as the Heir of Gryffindor," Harry admitted this hesitantly.
"It is not possible," Gryffindor said, turning away from them and staring out the window, his eyes glazing over, as he suddenly seemed to be very far away. "I can have no magical heirs. My son, he who brought you in here today, is a Squib." His face looked weary with much pain, and he suddenly seemed older. "My elder son died three years ago. He had no children." Sadness floated in his eyes, and Hermione instantly got the impression that it was not that he was upset or embarrassed because his son was a Squib and somehow inferior, but that he was sad and worried and afraid of how difficult his son's life might be as a result of this. "Aetheryd has changed his name from that given to him at birth. We thought it might be easier on him, perhaps no expectations - no taunting - no bigotry against him…if he was simply thought to be a Mûr-gahl."
Harry had time to half-form a question about the unfamiliar word Gryffindor used, before Hermione quickly supplied,
He means Muggle. It must have been corrupted down to what we say today. And if Aetheryd changed his name… then that must be how Gryffindor's line was lost, it's why no one today realizes you're related to him, she told Harry.
"Perhaps then, sir, if Aetheryd had - has - is going to have children, the magical strain traveled with them, even though they had no manifested magical power of their own," Hermione offered, struggling with her verb tenses.
Gryffindor appeared to mull this over.
"And in your mother and then you, the magic reasserted itself?" He said thoughtfully.
Imagine Aunt Petunia's face, if she knew, Harry thought a little gleefully. My mother wasn't a freak, the rest of her family are just Squibs!
Hermione remained very quiet, and was regarding Lord Gryffindor gravely. Harry got the impression again that she was taking in more information than he would even be able to notice.
"Sir…milord?" she began hesitantly. "Did you know we were coming?" Both Harry and Gryffindor turned toward Hermione so quickly that she very nearly laughed.
"Pray tell, lady, how could I have possibly known of your coming?" he said, gruffly, not answering, she noticed, her question. She decided not to press him for now, knowing that the whim of this great lord could have them in the lowest cell available in this castle.
"Of course," Hermione merely replied, and she felt Harry's suspicious gaze on her.
If you think he knows something, why are you letting it go? He asked.
He does know something, and I'm letting it go, because we don't necessarily have to know that now. But that flicker in his eyes - when we told him where we came from - it wasn't surprise, it was recognition…as if something finally made sense.
Hermione, nothing about this makes the slightest bit of sense, Harry remarked with frustration.
"What did you come to tell me about Hogwarts?" Lord Gryffindor asked suddenly, breaking into their apparent reverie, and causing Hermione to start violently, caught as she was in her lie.
"We - we don't have anything to tell you, sir," Harry admitted, while Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes. "We just knew that mention of Hogwarts would get you to listen to us."
"I must admit that it is most gratifying to know that Hogwarts is in existence, and has continued to exist for more than a millennium," Gryffindor murmured, almost to himself, stroking his chin absent-mindedly. "And," he added, spearing Harry with a sharp, discerning look, "to know that against all evidence otherwise, I do have powerful magical heirs."
"How d'you know I'm powerful?" Harry asked, a glint of something odd in his glance that Hermione could not quite make out.
"By the Sword and Staff, boy!" Gryffindor swore, looking at him disbelievingly. "You've done naught but exude magic since you made entrance into this room."
Harry glanced at Hermione, with a look that clearly said, "do I really?" even as the words rang in her mind. Hermione shrugged noncommittally.
"Have you a staff, Harry?" Gryffindor asked.
"I - I've a wand," Harry replied tentatively.
"Well enough," the lord conceded. "Can you perform a lighting spell?" Harry nodded, and performed a Lumos spell, once again greeting the room with the dull rush of white noise and almost blinding light pouring from the tip of his wand.
Gryffindor's eyes shuttered with some kind of secretive knowledge, and flustered, Harry Noxed the spell, coloring slightly. Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly.
At least we know it's not just because of Avalon, she said in a serene voice.
Suddenly the lord's face cleared, and he threw back his head and laughed heartily, for so long that Harry began to wonder if he had suddenly gone mad.
Everyone would believe I'm the Heir of Gryffindor, if it turned out he was mental, he said sardonically.
"This does bring mirth back into my heart, something I've not felt these three years, since Irminric died," he said, his smile dying, but the light remaining banked in his eyes. "You, from a long line of Squibs, so long that you were thought to be descended from the Mûr-gahl, and now one of the most powerful wizards to ever step into this hall." Disappointment flashed across his face. "If only Salazar could - " he seemed to remember in whose presence he was, and abruptly stopped talking.
"Salazar Slytherin?" Hermione asked quickly. Godric Gryffindor looked at her oddly and smiled.
"Yes, that is - but of course, you would have knowledge of him."
"We know all about him," Harry said flatly, his eyes grim, thinking of the Chamber of Secrets, as well as the nightmare who was the last of Salazar's line. Hermione squeezed his hand again, this time in warning.
"His is a noble line and a noble house, strong of blood and might of mind. He is blind to the idea that strength and talent and intelligence may not be dependent on blood. We have tried to reason with him, but - alas! - I wonder if it would be better if - if Hogwarts were founded without the aid of Slytherin gold," Gryffindor seemed to be speaking to himself again.
Harry found himself wondering ironically what Lord Gryffindor would think of the once-human monster that now marked the end of the Slytherin line. He wondered if it would help the lord to know how their respective lines fared a thousand years in the future, that Gryffindor and Slytherin contended once again - this time for the fate of all wizardkind.
A sudden thought froze him, with his mouth half-open. He shut it quickly with a self-conscious snap.
What if we prevent Slytherin from co-founding the school? He turned to Hermione with a light in his eyes.
Lord Gryffindor was speaking, "Surely you find your journey long and tiring with its bemusement. Would you care to refresh yourselves in the guest chambers before dinner?" he asked, formally, in the manner of a host speaking to an honored guest.
Hermione elbowed him sharply in the side, her eyes bright, giving absolutely no inkling that she had heard his thought at all. When it became apparent that Harry was incapable of speech, having no idea what question had been asked of him, she answered smoothly,
"My husband and I are very honored by your hospitality, my lord."
Harry jerked his head sharply in her direction, staring at her like a man confounded, as Lord Gryffindor ushered them out the large doors through which they had entered.
Your what? He said, thoroughly confused. She smiled at him brightly, and tucked her arm through his, as they started up the wide stone steps to the upper floor of the castle.
TBC
I promise I am going somewhere with this! I'm not sure about this chapter, but I hope you liked it anyway!
You may leave a review on your way out, if you like!
-->