Luna the Moon Monster's Fanfiction Archive | home
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Chapter Twenty-Eight | Chapter Twenty-Nine | Chapter Thirty | Chapter Thirty-One | Chapter Thirty-Two | Epilogue | Timeline
The rest of the week passed relatively sedately for Harry and Glen. The ancient boy was settling in remarkably well, which surprised the four time travellers a great deal. They knew from their own experiences that travelling to a different time and being stuck away from everything you know and hold dear is a terrifying experience. They thought it would have been worse for Glen, as he had no idea about the future other than what his mother and grandmother had told him. At least Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had had a vague idea of what they were getting themselves into when they arrived at each time. With the past, it is easier to adapt, as it is a time gone by, and records are left of the way people lived and what they did. Translation spells can be used to understand the people, as it is an extinct language, not one completely foreign. This was the main reason for Glen's mind link solution to the communication problem. A person could use it to recreate a language already in existence, but not one that had not come into use until later. It was a bizarre quirk to the spell, but there was nothing they could do about it. This was only one of the reasons the others had had it easier, though. Glen had to contend with all the other things completely alien to him. While the others' knowledge of the past places they had visited had been limited before, at least they had a basic idea of how things worked. They could deal with inferior technology and old ideals relatively easily. Glen didn't have that luxury, though. Everything about his world was different, and more modern. A thousand years worth of improvements was a lot to take in at once.
Perhaps the greatest change, though, was Glenadade's complete isolation. When the others had gone back in time, they had been alone. Alone in the sense that they were away from everyone they knew and cared about. The only familiar face was Peeves, which did little to reassure them. The key factor, though, was that they had each other. There were four of them, all thrust into the same nightmare world. At least they had each other, though. Glen had no-one. The time was different, the people were different, and no-one he recognised was there with him. Only his mother. In the time after he arrived, Glen found himself spending more and more time with the Ravenclaw ghost. She gave him advice, comforted him when he felt homesick, and spoke to him in Anglo-Saxon, making him feel more connected to the past. For him, the fact that he got to see his mother again, was a pure miracle.
Another thing that helped Glen settle in, though, was Harry. Glen had been surprised at how quickly his father had taken to him. When he first realised who the eighteen year old was, he had been shocked, but also felt a deep sense of gratitude to Lucifina. While the whole affair was rather taxing on the boy, it gave him a once in a lifetime chance to get to know his father. A chance he wasn't willing to pass up. He was impressed with Harry Potter so far, as he had managed to live up to all of the fantastic tales his mother and grandmother told of him. He was brave, and caring, accepting Glen as his son immediately and taking him under his wing. When Glen had first found out his father was to be in the same Hogwarts school year as he himself, he was worried that the older boy would treat him as just another friend. He was pleased, though, when Harry immediately became protective of him. The Boy-Who-Lived had even gone as far as to threaten his schoolmates to make sure Glen would have no trouble. It was more than he could ever have asked for.
After the initial hesitations, Glen had found himself liking the school. Everything was familiar, but also different. The portraits were mostly new, but some of the originals were still present. He had been allowed into Harry's secret room after the events in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and had even been granted permanent access by his father. He would have to renew it when he got home, but that didn't matter. It was the trust that his father placed in him that made him feel happier. The prank they played on Professor Umbridge had been the highlight of Glen's week. At first, he couldn't imagine pranking a teacher, but after seeing how horrid she was, he willingly went along with it. Now, even after the initial detention, he and Harry still sent her random messages and comments at any time of the day or night that struck their fancy. It was rather amusing to see her drop her spoon in her soup one dinner time and run out of the Great Hall clutching her head. It had kept the Marauders, past and present, amused for ages.
Classes had been confusing for the boy as well at first. Like the ones in the past had been strange for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, so these were odd for the ancient boy. He had to learn to use his wand for everything to avoid suspicion. The wand movements for simple spells were completely incomprehensible to him. He had never needed to know basics like that before, as he did them automatically with a simple thought and gesture. He had incantations and wand movements to catch up on what everyone else had been doing for six years already. In his time, such things were only taught for the more complex spells that most wizards needed to use their wands for. The simple ones weren't taught, only demonstrated. They could use incantations to help them learn the spell, but these were usually forgotten after it became second nature. He could understand the need for secrecy in this time, though. In a time of war, any advantage was useful, and if his father's nemesis had no knowledge of the powers of wandless magic, and who had the ability, he would eventually lose. Glen was sure of it.
It was later in the first week, the Friday evening, when Harry met his son in the common room and tapped him on the shoulder. Harry had been planning this for days, and he felt that now would be an appropriate time to get it out of the way.
Glen, do you have some time spare at the moment, or are you busy? he asked in the old tongue, so as to discourage eavesdroppers.
I'm not doing anything specific. What's up, Dad.
I'm going to visit a close friend of mine, and I would like you to meet him personally. He may have given you a wrong first impression, but I think if you get to know him, you'll find him a good person.
Glen nodded and stood up, following his father out of the common room. Harry started leading them down into the bowls of the castle, and each boy became lost in his own thoughts. Glen was wondering where the older boy could be taking him that was deep in Slytherin territory. Harry, though, was wondering how he would change Glen's impression of one of his best friends. He had been meaning to properly introduce his son to Sev all week, and just hadn't gotten around to it. Thinking back to the first potions lesson since Glen had joined them; he remembered the scathing comments and winced. As Harry's son, Sev had to treat him in public with the same contempt as Harry himself. Even though he hated doing it, Sev knew his responsibility as a spy was invaluable, and if word was to get back to Voldemort that he had been anything even remotely less than hostile to the Potters, his position would have been in jeopardy. Harry knew this, and had been prepared to put up with it, safe in the knowledge that it wasn't a heartfelt sentiment, just a pretense. Glen didn't know this, though. As far as he knew, Sev was an evil Potions Master.
Eventually, the pair reached the depths of the dungeons and Harry came to a stop in front of the Potion Master's quarters. Knocking lightly, he waited for a response. Glen seemed a little uncomfortable so far from Gryffindor Tower, especially as his experiences with Slytherins had been poor. When the door was eventually pulled open, the younger boy let out a loud gasp and took a step back, while Harry and Sev shared an amused look.
Can we come in? Harry asked the older man. In response, Sev opened the door wider and stepped to one side. Harry walked through immediately, but Glen didn't move. He was staring at the school's most hated teacher in shock, a hint of fear evident on his face. Harry sighed deeply and turned to his son.
Glen, come in. He won't bite, you know.
Not hard, at least, Sev added with a smirk. This did nothing to reassure the Ravenclaw, but he hesitantly walked in none the less. Sev shut the door firmly behind him, making the younger boy jump a little. Chuckling, the Potions Master led the students into his sitting room and offered them both seats. Once they were all cosily ensconced in front of the fire, a drink in their hands, Sev opened the conversation.
So, what have I done to deserve the presence of not one but two Potters in my rooms?
Harry smirked and turned to his old friend, gesturing to his son, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable.
I thought it was high time I properly introduced you to Glenadade. I mean, he's been here a week, and I haven't brought him to see you yet.
Yes, I was wondering when you'd get around to it. I've been intrigued by him, I must admit.
Turning to the unsure looking boy, Harry gestured at Sev.
Glen, I want you to properly meet our Potions Master Severus Snape. Despite appearances, he's not as much of a snarky bastard as he makes out. I got to know him when he was in his fifth year at Hogwarts. One of the times we visited was the school year of 1975 to `76. We were both in Slytherin House, and I sort of taught him how to take care of himself. Not long after we got there, the pair of us were inseparable. I didn't tell him my real surname until the day before I left, because there has been what I suppose could be classed as a blood feud between our families for generations. What we did was to reunite the Snape and Potter families. It's quite amazing, really. I just thought it would be nice for you to meet the man behind the mask. The man he really is, rather than the one he shows to the rest of the world.
Glen eyed the Potions Master warily, taking in his relaxed demeanor, and the slightly amused look on his face. He looked as if he wanted to burst out laughing any minute.
Wh-why are you different here, Sir? he asked the man hesitantly. Sev sighed deeply before looking at Harry for confirmation that he could trust the boy. When he received a slight nod in answer, he explained in detail the events leading up to and after his becoming a spy. Glen was horrified at all the professor had been through, and his respect for the man rose several notches. The three chatted amiably for a while after that, until Sev raised an issue he had meaning to ask the Boy-Who-Lived about.
Harry, can I ask you about the potion you promised to brew for me?
The antidote to the Infierno Poison?
Yes. When are you going to brew it for me?
Would you like to brew it?
The Potions Master's eyes lit up at the prospect of being the first person in eight hundred years to create a potion long forgotten.
You mean it?
But, you know the recipe, and the directions .
I'll tell you what, hang on a minute.
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated hard on picturing the books he had written over the years he was in the past. Several minutes later, a thumping could be heard on the doors to Sev's quarters. The older man, realising that Harry had summoned something, waved his hand, allowing the door to fly open for a minute, before closing again. Through the briefly opened gap flew six thickly bound books. They landed, one by one, on Harry's lap, and he in turn passed them to Sev. The other man took them carefully, noting that some of them looked to be several hundred years old. They had preservation charms on them, but the style was distinctly old fashioned.
What are these? he asked.
Books I wrote over the four years I was in the past. I have one on Light potions, one on Dark potions, one on antidotes to Dark potions, one to antidotes to Light potions, and two on ancient Dark Arts. I thought you might like to read them. They all contain things long lost to us, and are written concisely, without all of the usual rambling by overenthusiastic authors. When you've finished with them, just pass them on to the headmaster. I'm sure he'd want to read them.
I thank you, Harry.
You're welcome. The antidote to the Infierno Poison is in the Dark potions antidotes book, page 83.
I'll take good care of them.
I know you will, Sev. I know you will.
The next big highlight for the Potters came the following Wednesday. After much debating on the elder's part, they had come to the conclusion that it was time for a trip to Harry's Aunt Heather. The only problem was a certain blond Slytherin who had been sent there a week and a half previously. Harry had known at the time that he would eventually have to face Draco Malfoy, but he wanted to put it off as much as he could. He knew he had been reasonably justified in what he had done; he just didn't know how the younger boy would take the Boy-Who-Turned-Him-Into-A-Muggle arriving on the doorstep. As a form of peace offering, Harry decided it would be best to take Draco's possessions with him, to make him feel slightly more at home in the Muggle world. Getting hold of them hadn't been a problem, as being best friends with the Head of Slytherin House had its advantages.
And so, the Wednesday afternoon of the third week of term found Harry and Glenadade Potter on the doorstep of one Heather Evans. Glenadade was shuffling back and forth, looking in amazement at all of the Muggle things around him. He was fascinated for a different reason to why Draco had been. He had experience with Muggles in his own time, but he had never expected the technological advances in the magicless people that he was now experiencing. When Harry had first suggested the trip, he had been curious. They both had a free period on a Wednesday afternoon, so Harry had decided it would be the perfect time for the pair to drop in on Heather. Glen had been dubious, claiming that he had already met so many of Harry's friends in the past that he wasn't sure he was ready for this. Harry had explained, though, that this was family, and it was very important to him.
When the door opened, a middle aged woman smiled back at them. The recognition in her eyes was apparent when she noticed Harry, and she stepped forward to give the older boy a hug. Glancing over at her nephew, she raised an eyebrow and nodded towards Glen. Harry answered with a nod and a proud smile. Heather then turned and embraced the younger boy, much to Glen's surprise.
Hello, both of you, it's wonderful to see you.
It's nice to see you again as well, Aunt Heather.
Please, come in and make yourself at home. I'll get some refreshments.
The boys followed the ex-Obliviator into the house and made themselves comfortable in the living room. A few minutes later, she came back with a tea service and a plate of assorted home baked biscuits.
I'm sorry this is all I have, but I wasn't expecting visitors.
That's quite alright, Aunt Heather. We did drop in unexpectedly.
That you did, Harry. Now, are you going to introduce me to this handsome young man?
Glen blushed bright red as his father sent a smirk his way.
This is my son, Glenadade Harold Potter. A couple of days after we got back from the past, he just appeared in Dumbledore's office. He's staying for the rest of the year, and then we'll try and send him home.
I see, very interesting.
Yes, but it's given us the opportunity to get to know each other, so we're both happy. I have a question for you, though.
What's that, Harry?
How did you know my friends and I were back?
Heather smiled wryly, and winked at him.
I saw you in Hogsmeade. When I go into the wizarding world, I wear a disguise so nobody recognises me. I don't do it very often, but sometimes there are things I need. That day, I was coming out of Honeydukes and the four of you apparated into the village right in front of me. You looked at me, and I knew straight away who you were. I didn't want to break my cover, or confuse you when you had obviously just gotten back, so I just went straight to the Three Broomsticks to floo home. I sent you a letter soon after. I know I should have waited for you to contact me, but I just wanted to see you so much. I still get the Daily Prophet sometimes, so I knew about the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing. I knew from the newspaper that Lily had had a son called Harry, and I assumed it was you. Now I see I was right.
I remember that. We were considering obliviating you, but decided not to. I never realised it was you.
Before Harry could continue, a door burst open and a black and white blur came flying towards him. Before he could do anything about it, a fist landed sharply on the side of his face and he was sinking into unconsciousness.