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The Time it All Began by Remus
Chapter 2 : The Reflection
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 11

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The Reflection

Harry frowned and looked around wondering where on earth he could be because it was clear the he was no longer in Godric’s Hollow. He pressed two fingers to his eyes and tried to remember what had happened but the only thing that came to mind was him opening the music box in the nursery and seeing memories of his family pass before his eyes. Harry opened his eyes once again and shook his head nervously. The only explanation to his odd surroundings was that all of it was a dream. A dream that he was hoping to soon wake up from.

"My Lord…are you really feeling all right?" for the second time, Harry turned his head and saw the Sorting Hat sitting on an old, Celtic style writing desk. Harry wondered if it was really the same Sorting Hat he was accustomed to since the one that was sitting on the desk was brand new and definitely did not look old, patched and frayed like the hat that had sorted him. Slowly, Harry walked up to the Sorting Hat and without realizing what he was really doing, he poked it wondering if it felt real. The Sorting Hat gave Harry a very questioning look.

"Perhaps we should get Amelia to attend you, Sire. Ever since your fall, you’ve been acting odd…" it said.

This is the oddest dream ever, Harry thought as he stared at the brand new Hat.

"Are you… the Sorting Hat?" Harry asked rather stupidly but as soon those words came out of his mouth he notice there was a slight difference in his voice. It was not his voice at all! But before the Hat had the chance to speak, the door to the room burst open and in came the little girl he had seen on the Knight Bus a few hours before. But instead of being a five year old child, she was actually a woman around her mid-twenties with raven hair coming down to her waist and deep, blue eyes.

"I heard something fall," she said with a preoccupied tone in her voice as she entered the room wiping her wet hands on her apron. Her eyes immediately darted to a fallen ladder that was laying on its side and then back at him. "Sir, I told you I would get your Lady Mother’s old music box from the top of the shelve since the old, shaky thing could not bear your weight."

"Apparently, Lord Gryffindor has been very eager to fix his mother’s old music box ever since he found the old note," chuckled the Sorting Hat. Harry’s heart skipped a beat and his eyes went wide with shock. There was no possible way for him to actually be in the body of one of Hogwart’s founders.

Wake up, Harry. He thought ignoring the questioning looks from the Hat and the woman. You need to wake up from this ridiculous dream. WAKE UP!

"Are you feeling well, Sir?" Amelia asked interrupting his frantic thoughts. "You look fairly pallid. Did you knock your head on the floor?"

"Er…" Harry’s voice quivered with an unknown terror. Knowing that he was going to be questioned until he left this mad dream, he went along with the woman "Yes. I believe I did…" said Harry with his different voice. "I-I-I think I need to lay down for a while…can you take me to my room"

Amelia gave Harry an odd look but nevertheless followed orders from the one she called ‘Sir‘. She guided Harry through a wide, stone corridor with floor barely visible since a few torches lit the way; somehow it reminded Harry of Hogwart’s corridors. Finally she opened a large, mahogany door that, once opened, revealed a vast room occupied by a large canopy bed with a night stall at its side, a lone window, another writing desk and a small table with two dusty chairs at either side.

"Do you desire water, sir? Any wine?" Amelia suggested, kindly. Harry merely shook his head and with a small bow she exited the room, closing the door behind her leaving Harry alone in the cold room. Harry’s eyes moved from the bed to the only window in the room. He ascended two stone steps and slowly approached the window that had broken shutters which squeaked as the cold, wind blew gently into the room.

Harry leaned over the window and noticed that he was in a room located on the second floor of a small, stone castle. The castle’s garden was beautifully decorated with colourful flowers and beyond the gate were high rising mountains, making Harry wonder if there was any land beyond them.

Slowly, Harry turned and headed back to the bed in the middle of the room and sat on it, feeling very comfortable; his heart still pounded hard against his chest frightened with what was happening. The bed was curtained against the breeze by a scarlet, delicate cloth Harry didn’t know the name of and at the foot of the bed was a large, wooden trunk bearing the Gryffindor crest on its lid.

Curiosity immediately took over Harry and he quickly got off the bed to open the trunk. In it, he found cloaks of all different colours, robes from the shocking colour of green to black with matching tunics and breeches. Then Harry saw a bronze mirror that apparently had been tucked underneath all the clothes to prevent it from breaking. He picked it up and almost dropped it when he saw himself.

Instead of seeing the usual reflection of a skinny teenage boy, with green eyes, glasses, a scar and black hair he saw a man about his mid-thirties, with shoulder-length black hair, a faint goatee , brown eyes and tan skin. Harry blinked once, twice. But every time he opened his eyes the same reflection was staring back at him. Feeling a little faint, Harry sat next to the trunk still holding the mirror in his hand. He was very confused. As seconds passed, Harry seemed to remember what one of the notes on the side of the box had said: "But as legend goes…only one will see its true secrets every five hundred years" With his rotten luck, Harry mused, it was possible that he was the one to find out its true secrets.

As Harry sat on the cold, stone floor going over his problem, he noticed a small bulk in his robes. Immediately he buried his hands into his pocket and found shards of a mirror and silver coins. His mirror and silver coins. Harry then fully understood that it wasn’t a dream but a horrible situation. Somehow he had been transported to the Founders’ Era and into Godric Gryffindor’s body when he opened the music box. While Harry stared into the broken shards, his brain was going over his now present problem. Bus as he stared at the broken mirror, Harry had the sudden urge to fix it hoping that Remus had Sirius’s mirror; it was his only way to get out… but first he had to find Gryffindor’s wand.

Harry got to his feet and walked to the door, feeling slightly relieved of not having to deal with Voldemort for the time being. He only had to fix the mirror, pray that Professor Lupin had the other mirror, and find out how to get back to his own time…but that can wait for a day or two, Harry thought as he went down the staircases.

First he had to find Amelia and ask her about his wand--Harry knew he was going to sound stupid asking for his own wand but nonetheless he was going to do it--fix the mirror and then sleep for a while; he was exhausted. After sleeping, he was going to look around the terrain, and then get in touch with Professor Lupin in order to get out of the past. How that was going to be accomplished, he didn’t know…but if he got here in the first place, then he definitely could go back, the way was only unknown.

As he searched for Amelia, who Harry supposed was some kind of maid to Godric Gryffindor, he found a library, many guests rooms, sitting rooms with chairs in front of the fire places, a reading room, a study and many empty quarters. After getting lost twice, Harry was close to giving up and waiting for Amelia in Gryffindor’s room. But thanks to his luck, he found Amelia in a large kitchen at the very east side of the castle along with two elderly women and a small boy with dirty blond hair and blue eyes.

When Harry entered the room, the older women and the boy scurried away giving Harry a fearful look and yet they bowed clearly showing him respect. Harry’s eyebrows raised but said nothing remembering that muggles suspected and feared those whom they believed did magic since it was " the work of the devil" during the Founders’ Time.

"Are you feeling better, milord?" Amelia asked, giving him a gentle look with her blue eyes.

"Yes, much better, Amelia."

A pause.

"Why do they look scared?" Harry asked ultimately as he sat on a rickety, wooden chair.

"Well, you know how muggles can be, sire." She said as she handed Harry a piece of fresh bread with honey along with a cup of fresh milk "They fear magic. But they only suspect you, Sir, so there is nothing to fear." Harry took a bite of the bread and immediately fell in love with its delicious taste. "I wish I knew magic, you know. But being a daughter of a poor family who is afraid of anything related to magic is very hard. I had the skills to develop my magic skills but my mother’s fear stopped me from doing so…what am I doing, you already know all this." she said with a small smile and headed back to the food she was preparing.

"From who do your powers come from?" Harry asked. "Apparently both your parents were muggles."

"You already know this, Sir, but apparently your memory has gone a blank from the fall. My mother’s mother was a student in the Isle of Avalon, just like your Lady Grandmother. But unfortunately she married a Christian man and renounced her powers for him. When my mother was ten, she was sent to a convent where she learnt her fear magic and everything related to the Holy Isle of Avalon. Unfortunately for her, I was born with magical powers, but she never sent me to Avalon to develop them." Amelia’s tone was resentful as she spoke about her lack of knowledge in magic and her mother’s hand in it.

"As much as my mother tried to keep it a secret, my old gran did know of my powers and expressed her sorrow of not having a descendant from her line that knew magic. I know that deep down she cursed the day she married a Christian man and gave up the Goddess and the old teachings for him." Amelia sighed and looked up to look at Harry with her blue eyes looking grateful "The good thing is that you helped create a school for those who have magic powers. That way there won’t be any magical people in the future as ignorant as me when it comes to potions or spells."

Hogwarts, Harry thought as he took another bite of the bread. Avalon…where have I heard that name before…right now I wish I had paid more attention during History of Magic. Minutes passed and neither Harry or Amelia spoke. Once finished with the bread and milk, Harry remembered why he was looking for her in the first place. "Amelia, have you seen my wand? I can’t seem to find it."

Amelia raised her thin, black eyebrows before she walked up to Harry, dug her hands in a pocket inside his robes and pulled out a wand that seemed to be made of the finest Cherry wood Harry had ever seen.
"I beg you forgiveness, Sire, but you need to look after your things better. You’re not a heedless child anymore, Sir." She added with a mock expression that made Harry blush for unknown reasons. With a strange wave of confusion, he watched as Amelia went back to preparing the food. He took in her beauty and wondered how it could be that a woman past her twenties not be married during the Dark Age when women usually were married and had children by the age of seventeen. She had a special beauty about…She was a tall woman, with long, shapeless black hair that hung down from a loose pony tail, large deep blue eyes, a small nose and a pale mouth along with a low forehead…

He shook his head and forced himself to forget about Amelia and get working on the broken mirror. Suddenly it hit him that he had forgotten all about Sirius since he had arrived in Gryffindor’s time; he felt a little ashamed of forgetting about his existence and cursed himself.

He pointed the wand at the broken shards "Reparo!" and as if time itself was going backwards on the mirror, it came together making it whole once more. He held the mirror and a sigh escaped him. He missed Sirius and felt the urge of calling his name but deep inside him he knew it would all be useless. As Harry was about to put away the small mirror back into his pocket for safe keeping, the reflection of Godric Gryffindor, his temporary reflection, spoke back to him.

"What is this?" Gryffindor said behind the mirror, he looked rather afraid "Who are you? Where am I? This is obviously dark magic!"

"You spoke, M’Lord?" Amelia asked lifting her gaze from the herbs she was now sorting with care. Harry immediately shove the mirror into his robes and gave Amelia a false smile when his heart was actually racing against his chest.

"No…er…I’m going back to my chamber." Harry immediately stood up and raised up the stairs to the room belonging to Godric Gryffindor; he had memorized the way. Once there, he shut the door behind him and rushed up to the bed where he dug out Sirius’s mirror from his pocket once more.

"-do not care who you are, sir, but I wish to be returned to my body this instant or I will curse you to no end." the real Godric Gryffindor finished. Harry could only stare at the mirror with a feeling of slight terror; somehow he had to explain to the Founder that he was a boy from the future and somehow had ended up in his body without sounding like a mad man speaking.

"I wish I knew how." Harry said to Gryffindor. "But I don’t know myself."

"Who are you?" demanded Gryffindor, his brown eyes were blazing with so much anger that made Harry shrink despite the fact that he was in a mirror.

"My name is Harry Potter and somehow I ended up here after picking up a music box… maybe that’s how you end up back in my time, Sir"

"Your time?" shouted Gryffindor yet his voice sounded distant "I’m trapped in a dark, misty place with no way out. Does that depict your time, Potter?"

"No…" Harry answered truthfully and immediately wondered where the real Godric Gryffindor might be since he was clearly not in Harry’s time or at Godric’s Hollow.

"Your tale is hard to believe. But there is one way I can believe this absurd tale of yours." Gryffindor said narrowing his eyes "Describe this music box, you mentioned. I do not think you‘re talking about the same box I think you are…but knowing my mother…Speak!"

"Well," Harry closed his eyes trying his hardest to remember the box and Gryffindor’s blazing eyes "It was rectangular, made of dark wood, and on the lid the initials of "GG" were inscribed in gold." Gryffindor remained quiet for some time. Once he spoke, his voice sounded less enraged.

"By the looks of it, I was able to fix my mother’s precious music box." He said with a scoff. "Yet I do not know how this happened, but we have to figure out a way to get back in each other’s body and time before something else happens. Tell me, boy, what else do you remember?" Harry told him about the two notes on either side of the music box and what the mirror inside the music box had written out for him. Once Harry was done he watched as Gryffindor’s facial features hardened in deep thought.

"It appears that this "journey" of yours is to teach you something. Tell me, do you have any problems in your time?"

Harry snorted at the idea of actually being asked about his life-threatening problems with Voldemort, but before he told Gryffindor about Voldemort he remembered what Hermione had said to him years ago. Irritably, he ralized that he couldn't tell Gryffindor about Voldemort Well, at least not the full extent, contemplated Harry as he went over his situation. I could tell him about Voldemort…not just from where he got his ideas from…

"Well, ever since I started Hogwarts I-"

"Hogwarts, you say!" Exclaimed Gryffindor with enthusiasm "Well then, you must be older than I thought you were. Tell me what house are you in…what am I doing, go on, go on."

"Ever since I started Hogwarts" repeated Harry a bit irritated "I’ve been attacked by Voldemort, the darkest wizard from my time, because of a bloody prophecy. For five years straight something has happened to me…things no normal teenage wizard should do or see or ever experience at all."

"Then that means you’re about six-and-ten for what I can make out…" Said Godric Gryffindor more to himself than to Harry who was getting more annoyed of being interrupted every time he opened him mouth.

"If you mean sixteen, then yes I am." Harry then remembered that he left the Dursleys a few days before his birthday meaning he was still fifteen…but he wasn’t going to tell Gryffindor that

"What about your parents?" Gryffindor asked with a small hint of concern. "What do they do in order to protect you from this…Voldemort person?"

"They died when I was a year old…"A moment of silence followed those words, Harry believed Gryffindor was cursing himself for reminding Harry of his tragedy by the sour look on his face.

"My apologies, young sir." There was another pause between them as each was buried in his own thoughts. After a minute, Gryffindor was the one that broke the silence "What exactly have you seen that is not normal?"

"Many things. But the ones that really haunt me are the deaths I have caused because of my stupid actions." Harry stopped and fidgeted a little as he wondered how the Founder was going to react to what he was going to confess. "I have killed two people…Cedric Diggory and…my Godfather when he was trying to rescue me." Harry’s eyes began to sting with tears but tried his best to keep then from rolling down his cheek. It was the first time he had admitted out loud Sirius’s death. Suddenly a wave of anger took over his heart and soul him "I need to stop him."

"And how, young master, are you going to accomplish that being stuck in a body that is not yours?" asked Gryffindor serenely reminding Harry of Dumbledore. "My mother created that music box using ancient magic from Avalon. The note she left me before she died said that the music box was created by her and the High Priestess to help those of noble blood and soul to learn ancient magic to help him or her on their troubled journey. You, young master, for what I’m told, are one of those people that have to learn that ancient magic."

"Great…" mumbled Harry. "That’s just what I need…"

"Tell me more of this prophecy that sealed your fate and of the dark wizard that haunts you...maybe that way I’ll decipher which elements are against you and which may help you in battle." said Gryffindor coolly. Apparently he hadn’t heard what Harry had said as he looked at Harry with great interest in his brown eyes.

"Well, the prophecy spoke-" Harry stopped short when a soft knock came from the other side of the chamber’s door. "Yes?"

"Company’s here, Milord." Amelia said with a small audible shudder "They have just arrived and they are waiting for you at the entrance hall."

"Oh for bloody hell…"cursed Gryffindor. Harry ignored Gryffindor’s comment and walked out of the room following Amelia silently and aware to not make her trip over the hem of her loose robes. When Amelia descended the stairs, her gaze was directly to the floor as she passed a group of cloaked figures.

From the top of the stairs, Harry saw three people were gathering at the front entrance of the small stone castle. The tallest one had its hood on so low that it prevented Harry from seeing the face. The only visible feature of the mysterious figure was a beard hanging down to the stomach giving Harry the clue that the person was a man. To the man’s right there was a plump woman with red hair tied in an elegant bun and was wearing cloak so dusty that it made Harry wonder if it had ever been washed. To the man’s left there was a woman with a triangular face, dark hair and a bony body. For some odd reason, the woman looked almost like his Aunt Petunia.

Suddenly it hit him…

"Oh no…" he moaned as he saw the three people looking up at him.

"Young master Potter." Said Gryffindor from the mirror that Harry was still holding in his hand "Please meet Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff…"

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