A/N: I’ve got the overall outline for this year done, but I’ve had to shorten it as I didn’t like the resolution happening at the end of the year. Each instance it felt like I was just delaying Harry from figuring it out just to have it close to canon. While I do want this to be close to canon, I want there to be changes. So I scratched out almost two full chapters worth, and have it set so the confrontation will happen either late February or early March.
Last chapter, we kind of met Luna. Honestly, I’ve been really anxious about writing her as she’s such an interesting character. She’s the character I’ve done the most research on because I want to write her well. Please, feel free to tell me how you think I did, and any criticism is welcome! This also goes for the story in general.
We also get to know a bit more about Daphne, her goals and family! (Yay!) I’d always planned on her being introduced as an ally later, maybe late year 3 or 4, but added her as more of an afterthought in year 1. As a final note, I, personally, don’t consider Cursed Child to be canon. Sorry for those that do and power to you. However, the blood curse that Astoria is inflicted with intrigued me and also worked for this story to explain the Greengrass' change of stance regarding blood status.
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Aether Continuum Part 1 | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Other Genres: Action/Adventure, Romance Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 53 Summary: Two mysterious beings that claim to be Nephalem send Harry's soul back in time to fix the mistakes of the powerful and save his world from more than just Voldemort. This is a change in the Time Travel trope where Harry originally never went to Hogwarts, where events spiraled out of control and Voldemort had risen with the Philosophers Stone and Diary Riddle forced another side to the conflict. Hitcount: Story Total: 52042; Chapter Total: 1279 Author's Notes: |
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Year 2 Chapter 6: September “Early in my journey in the Dracona Universe, I was told this strange poem by a village elder. ‘Fear the dragons, for they know not their own souls; fear the demons, for they know not their own minds; fear the mortal races, for they know not their own strength; but most of all, fear the Nephalem, for they know all three.’ “Having now lived as both a human and demon, these words resound far deeper into my soul than I think most beings. Working with Ikelius and Lars for the majority of both lives, I have seen how well they know not just themselves and allies, but their enemies.” From the journal of Kesh’rak, Chapter 4; Page 68 **************************** **************************************** ******************************** H arry could not remember a lot of the first week of September. He knew they had arrived the night of the first, a Tuesday, but after that he could not fully remember if he sat in a classroom to aid the other students, such was his state of mind of finding the Chamber of Secrets. Though he did remember asking Daphne to help Ginny find her classes if she had time to while he quizzed her on secret areas she knew of in the dungeons. He didn’t just blindly look, he tried yet again to question the only person he hadn’t received answers from its opening fifty years ago, besides Voldemort of course. Unfortunately, Moaning Myrtle would either scream at him, followed by hiding in her toilet, or if she did respond in a way that left Harry feeling he may have answers, he would say something that would send the spectral being once more into hysterics. Maybe him pointing out how odd a ghost haunting a bathroom was, due to them not finding them necessary anymore wasn’t such a good thing, but he was already overly frustrated. Harry had also, in a way, employed the house elves to keep him up to date on any secret’s they find in the school. They, of course, knew nothing of the Chamber itself but had shown him multiple secrets that he never knew. For instance, there was a painting of an ancient British wizard named Higbert the Silent on the fourth floor across the men's loo. The trick was if you removed the painting from the wall, then dropped him on his head before placing it back. While Higbert attempted to shout obscenities at you, a passageway would appear next to him leading down behind one of the gargoyle statues flanking the entrance to the Great Hall. After a week and a half of fruitless searching, Dumbledore mentioned during dinner that Harry should take a break from his search, try and grab a new perspective, and even offered some advice. Harry wished his mentor could join, but the dealings with the Board of Governors, Ministry and ICW, he was needed elsewhere. The one good thing of him being the British Representative and Supreme Mugwump for the ICW was he could look into the Templar Order in a less dangerous way than Nicolas could. That was how we found Harry, sitting in the Ravenclaw dormitory late one Sunday evening helping the first years with their History of Magic essays. He’d only been there for a few minutes before noticing one of the girls was being ignored by the rest. She sat off to the side, quietly writing things down, and seemed to not even realize that others were glancing at her. Harry took in her features, she had long, blonde hair, her eyes gave her a face that always looked surprised, even as she concentrated on her reading or writing, and her wand was tucked behind her ear. Her purple and white horizontal striped shirt clashed horribly with the plaid pink and red shorts, and her feet were bare as they swung over the edge of the couch she sat at. Harry, recalling her to be Luna Lovegood from the sorting, kept busy while keeping one eye on her in case she needed anything while helping the other students, and after a half an hour found a small break to approach her. Flopping down into the space next to her, he began to read what she had written so far. A couple sentences in, and Harry was already wishing he’d done anything else. Closing his eyes to prevent them from going cross-eyed, he jumbled together what he’d read. While he doubted Binns would actually read this, as he found last year that the ghost generally just gave everyone E’s, he did remember how a few of the professors remarked on Luna’s interesting essays. “Hello, Harry Potter.” He opened his eyes at her wispy voice. She was now looking at him, her silvery grey eyes boring into his. After a few moments, he watched as her eyes, somehow, widened even further. “I’m very sorry for your loss, it must have been very difficult for you.” She then turned back to her essay as if she hadn’t said anything, leaving him absolutely flabbergasted. Harry opened, and closed his mouth several times as he tried to come up with a response. Finally, he settled on a very inelegant. “Er…” “Oh! You must be affected by wrackspurts, they tend to make a person's head go fuzzy. I should have warned you about the one that’s been affecting everyone since the beginning of term.” Luna said all this while still writing her essay, her feet padding against the couch lightly. Shaking his head and smiling slightly, Harry recalled Ginny telling him how eccentric Luna was. “Right, er… well I came over here to see if you needed any help with your essay.” He glanced down at her parchment, again reading the first paragraph. “Would you mind explaining what you have?” Before he knew it, she was explaining how all these different creatures that he’d never heard of had managed to make a small group of goblins start their rebellion in 1612 around Hogsmeade, as the location was a terrible choice due to how close it was to Hogwarts. As she explained in her unique way, Harry was able to see the bigger picture. How she was essentially saying the same things the other students had while giving subjective reasons as to why certain decisions were made they way they were. In fact, Harry quite liked Luna’s spin on things and wanted to hear more. Impressed, Harry waited until Luna had finished. “Sounds good so far, but this part.” He pointed to one of the lower paragraphs, “Why do you think the wizards reacted violently when the goblins…” The two continued to review over her essay for the rest of the alloted time for the study session, and by the end of the night, many of the other Ravenclaws began to suspect Harry’s sanity. *************************** **************************************** ********************************* Ginny absolutely loved Hogwarts, it was everything she’d imagined when she was growing up hearing the stories her brothers told. On her first day, even though she’d had no classes in the morning, she’d been late getting to History of Magic. Based on descriptions from her brothers, this normally wouldn’t have been a bad thing, except this year they shared that class with the Slytherins. One of them, his last name was Harper, she thought, constantly sneered at her throughout the class and afterwards said he knew that all blood-traitors were stupid. She was about to show him exactly what she thought of that, when Daphne appeared, positioning herself between the two first years. “Yes, let’s have a go at a pure-blood when you yourself are merely a half-blood. Ironic, isn’t it.” She whispered it just loudly enough to reach Ginny. In the blonde girls hand was her wand, poking into the boys stomach. The current scion of the Greengrass house looked disdainfully at the now pale boy. “Run along now, boy.” Harper squeaked before scampering down the nearby staircase. With a satisfied smile on her face, Daphne held out her arm for Ginny to take. After linking arms, the Slytherin girl led the two down the charms corridor in the opposite direction Harper had fled. “Ginevra, how was your first class?” When Ginny hesitated in answering, Daphne gave her a friendly smile. “It’s alright to say that Binns in a horrible teacher. The ghost is incredibly boring and seems to only know the subject of Goblin Rebellions.” “I… well yes, History was boring. But I was late, and the Slyth… er, other Slytherins wouldn’t shut up.” The blond frowned. “It will most likely continue to be that way. Most of the other Slytherins hold to a belief that they are better than others.” “What makes you different? You’ve been kind to both Harry and I, and even Hermione speaks of you as an acquaintance, despite her being muggleborn.” Daphne did not answer immediately, instead leading Ginny through one of the hidden tapestries. Passing through the hidden passage, appearing once on one of the corridors on what the redhead believed was the sixth floor, they walked up to one of the classroom doors. Tapping her wand against it, followed by an audible click, Daphne opened the door and ushered Ginny through. The room was lit with the afternoon sun shining through the open windows. There was a few rows of tables and chairs lined up facing the far end of the room. As the door shut behind, Ginny called to her friend, “Daphne?” The blond was now tapping her wand against the door again, muttering under her breath. A second passed, before she nodded and turned to face the first year. “I’m sorry, Ginny. My father advised me to be cautious if I speak about this.” Daphne sat in one of the nearby chairs, motioning Ginny to join her. “Even though my family was neutral during the war between He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Ministry, they felt they were superior over half-bloods and muggleborns. My father was even considering joining the ranks of the Death Eaters, but before he could make the decision, Harry defeated the Dark Lord. “That was how I grew up. Up until my younger sister, Astoria, befriended a muggle that lived near us when I was eight. My father had a soft spot for my sister, due to a blood curse an ancestor received afflicting her. When he discovered the friendship, he wanted to cut off any contact between them and charm them to forget about Astoria.” “That’s horrible!” Ginny said, aghast. Nodding in agreement, Daphne continued. “Astoria begged him not to, and at first he was adamant. After a few hours of arguing, she asked that he at least meet her friend and her parents. He agreed, and my mother warned him that he needed to think of what was best for Astoria. I don’t know exactly what happened during that meeting, but my father came back troubled.” Daphne smiled as she closed her eyes, turning her face toward the sunlight. “Astoria asked me to meet her friend shortly after. That girl and her parents, they are one of the most amazing families I’ve ever met.” Ginny found herself smiling as she looked at her friend, before a thought occurred that caused her to frown instead. “Why are you in Slytherin then?” Ginny asks before she could stop herself, flinching. She could feel her skin heat as she blushed. After gathering enough courage, she looks up to her friend to see Daphne watching her closely. “Because it’s where I’m needed.” The Slytherin says cooly. “I’m still cunning, still ambitious. The only difference is my ambitions are different then the rest of them. I want to bring change, help them see just how stupid their belief that blood status makes them better actually is.” To say that Ginny felt ashamed was an understatement. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking.” Silence fell between the two, and the redhead began to squirm in her seat as Daphne’s eyes continued to pierce her soul. Ginny wanted the floor beneath her to open up and swallow her whole. She felt a need to talk to Tom, just so someone could know just how sorry she actually felt. Eventually, Daphne stood, pulling Ginny to her feet as well. “Come, I promised Harry this morning that I’d help you find your way around the school. I believe you have Herbology tomorrow and Transfiguration on Friday correct?” Ginny nodded, and the two left the room, side by side. Once the two had made it out of the front doors onto the grounds, Daphne spoke in a subdued voice. “I forgive you, Ginny. Some stereotypes are deeply ingrained into our society.” The rest of her first week was uneventful, but Ginny was beginning to see a pattern in her brothers behavior. The twins would constantly pop up, acting surprised when they saw her. This would have been normal, except she was never pranked. She would have to think of something to get at them to make them act more normally, but for the time being, it was refreshing not to have to watch her back for them. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to never leave Hermione’s side, something that was beginning to vex the bushy haired witch. It was Percy that surprised her the most. In fact, he seemed to have the opposite stance as her other brothers, instead of being as obnoxious toward her or Hermione, he seemed to be ignoring them. The one time he had interacted with Ginny was to admonish her for being late to her first class on her first day. As Ginny lay on her four poster bed at the end of her first full week, she had Tom’s diary open in front of her. The page was currently blank, and had been for the past fifteen minutes, as she was thinking of what to put. In all honesty, she was a bit upset with Harry. Of course, he was trying to stop something dangerous from happening, but he seemed to be completely absorbed into it. It’s not like it would have been the end of the world if he didn’t stop it. She felt the sudden need to speak to someone else about it, someone who wouldn’t say anything. She already had that someone, or something in this case, right in front of her. The diary, sitting innocently in front of her, except the page was no longer blank. Ginny, are you there? Placing her quill to the parchment, she began to write. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Harry, but the fact that the Chamber was real, and not just a fictional story to keep children at Hogwarts in line scared her. She began to pour out everything Harry had told her about the Chamber and once she started, she found she couldn’t stop. Ginny even mentioned that Harry had stopped Voldemort, how he once again faced him the previous year and how she had been there to save him with the help of Shadow. Tom never once put anything on the page until she finished. He was a good listener like that, kind of like Harry. ...and Harry’s incredibly smart, but I’m afraid he may be getting into something bigger than he can handle. What do I do, Tom? As Tom’s reply, written hastily as though he were excited about something, Ginny began to feel an unnatural calm fill her mind. As it was what she was looking for she embraced it, disregarding the warning in her mind. ***************************** **************************************** ******************************* G inny wished for the days when school had just started, when all she had to worry about was which staircase to take on the way to breakfast, or which step decided today was a good day to ensnare a forgetful student. Instead, now she had to wonder if she was beginning to lose it. It was now the last Friday of September. On Sunday, she had finally decided to ask Harry about the diary he’d given her with her school books. She remembers bringing up the books, how she never really thanked him for getting them for her, and when she came to the subject of the diary, she found herself talking instead about how she wished first years could play on the school Quidditch teams. She tried again on Tuesday when he was aiding Flitwick with their class, but once again found herself speaking of the current essay they were working on. Today, in Double Transfiguration, she tried to physically show him instead, but couldn’t remember what exactly happened the rest of class as she next found herself walking with Harry to dinner after class had ended. With these clues, Ginny was beginning to deduce that perhaps Harry hadn’t given it to her, he may help the twins with their pranks at times, but he wouldn’t pull a cruel one on her like this. Not even the twins would prevent you from asking them about a prank they pulled, half the fun they had was being able to take credit for it. Yet, then where, or who did she get it from? It didn’t help that she could not pinpoint an exact time it came into her possession. She was once more laying on her bed in the Gryffindor girls first year dorms, with the diary open in front of her. It had lain there for nearly a half an hour and she hadn’t written a thing, but neither had Tom. He seemed to be waiting for something. An hour passed, and she heard the other girls in her dorm finally go to their beds for the night. Ginny? Are we not going to talk tonight? His timing, it was almost too perfect. She moved to close the book, but found herself placing an inked quill to the parchment instead. I’m sorry, Tom. I’m too tired tonight, and think I’ll be going to sleep. It was a flimsy excuse, and she was sure he knew it was as well, Tom had proven how well he could read her in the past. I see. Well, good night then, but I do hope we talk tomorrow. I have something I want to show you. She wanted to inquire, but instead she closed the diary and her eyes, letting the dreams she could never quite remember over take her. ****************************** **************************************** ****************************** The last Saturday of the month found Harry in his quarters, sitting at his desk working on the first years potions essays they had turned in that week. He found that if he graded these himself, then at least some of the Gryffindors would actually have a good grade. In Harry’s opinion, Snape could at times be too biased against the Gryffindors, and he wanted to prevent it as much as possible. Yet, tonight was a struggle to concentrate. He still had not made any headway towards finding out anything new on the Chamber. In fact, as nothing happened during the first month, not even a whisper from a student that anything untoward was happening, he began to think that possibly, just maybe, nothing will happen. He glances over at the grandfather clock sitting in the opposite corner of his desk, and his eyes bulge at the time. It’s nearly three in the morning! Placing the parchment he was currently reading through down, he rubs at his tired eyes, letting the darkness soothe at their aching. “Rip, tear, kill!” In a flash, Harry was standing, his wand brandished and pointing at every point in the room. Nothing, except the voice had sounded right next to him. “I am ssssoooo hungry!” The voice was moving now, upwards. Bursting out of his office, he turned towards the nearest staircase until he was directly above his office on the second floor. There was no sign of anyone, but once more the voice leading him upwards. Two more floors, and Harry could feel the sweat trickle down his back. He was scared, he’d openly admit it to anyone if they were to ask him, but he had to find this, he had to save Ginny. He had just arrived onto the sixth floor, he hadn’t heard the voice in a while now, and was making his way toward one of the tapestries that led back down to the fifth floor. He thought he’d heard something rustle behind it. Pausing just before it, he readied his wand, hand on the cloth hanging down. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushed the tapestry aside, rushing through and nearly ran into someone. A flash and instinctively pointing his wand and a sword that appeared in his left hand at his target, he froze. Ginny. Sweet, little Ginny stood in front of him, just as frozen, her face pale and eyes wide in fright. She held her hands up, and was still wearing her school robes. The sword he’d summoned was hovering just over her right breast, poking into the fabric, he could see where it had cut through, but no blood thankfully. “Ginny.” He whispered, his voice hoarse from it’s lack of use the past few hours. She didn’t react, her eyes just stared into his fearfully. “Ginny!” Jerking back, she brought her hands to her face, eyes tearing up. Harry didn’t want to know what she saw in him at that moment, he was doing whatever he could to hold himself together. “Go, get to the common room.” She looked hesitant, as if she wanted to say something. “GO!” He still hadn’t moved, not an inch besides his jaw to speak, his weapons still pointing straight ahead and his eyes now unseeing. She jumped at his shout, rushed passed him, and he could hear her running once she left the passageway. Only once he could no longer hear her did he drop his arms, letting his wand and sword drop as his hands covered his ears, and his entire body shook. In his distress, he never realized that the sword had disappeared before reaching the ground. Instead, the only thing he could hear were the words, the words he hated, the ones he feared the most, he could almost hear the blood filling their throat as they coughed. These words repeating in his head. “Harry... Ron, where’s… Harry? Please...” |
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