Title: Time Travel Lord Harry Fic
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: AU, Time Travel
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: No Beta, Dark Themes
Word Count: 2,049
Summary: Harry and three companions travel back in time to the Marauder Era.
“Moony, what?” James asks when Remus stops so suddenly in the doorway that the other three Marauders almost fall over him. Looking up, he sees his father sitting at the breakfast table looking Stupefied. “Dad?
The man blinks and vaguely looks up but there is focus to be had.
James rounds his best friends to get a better view. His father is holding the gold-edged blindingly white parchment of an Official Gringotts Announcement, to further confirm there’s a large black bird with a Gringotts amulet sitting on the perch not far from the table
“Dad, what happened?”
“Someone claimed the Founder’s Houses.”
“You mean like officially?” Because nobody does that. Nobody can. Since the mainlines died out they have been held in trust by cadet branches that wield the Founder’s Legacies sparingly.
Held in trust for who? A voice that sounds irritatingly like Severus Snape asks in the back of his mind.
James sputters to himself, one person talking all four… they might as well be king of England!
Actually a great deal more than that, now that he thinks on it.
“That’s what I don’t understand,” Charlus Potter says, clearly starting to come back to himself. “It says here his name is Harry Potter.”
Sirius can’t say he’s not surprised to be included in the trip to Gringotts when the Potters are summoned.
He and James walk side by side, flanking Lord Charlus a step behind. Right up until they reach the antechamber where three other lords and two other heirs are waiting and his grandfather, Lord Arcturus, levels him a pointed look. Neither his blood father Orion nor his blood brother Regulus are there and it makes Sirius’s gut clench painfully.
He doesn’t even notice how much he tenses externally until Lord Charlus touches his wrist and he quite suddenly relaxes.
Lord Charlus -the man he calls ‘dad’ in his head for years since he met the man, the man he’s called ‘dad’ out loud for the last two months since he ran away- smiles at him and tilts his head toward his grandfather.
He’s standing silent and shocked but warmly welcomed at his grandfather’s side when the doors to the conference room open under the hands of a goblin warrior and a human boy. He might be a year or two older than Sirius but certainly not three. He’s tall and bulky with dark hair and small, dark eyes.
He has a thick, slightly bent wand unlike any Sirius has seen before and he doesn’t even ask before casting a series of security charms and wards over them.
The goblin waves a hand over them. Possibly, to verify the boy’s work? When he nods to the young human, there seems to be a pleased air to him.
The boy nods back and then addresses them in an accent thick enough to walk on, “He will see you now.”
They enter the room to see a single young man sitting at what is arguably the head of a round table. That’s the closest way Sirius can think to define it, at least. The boy has clearly marked half of the table as his and set four chairs on the other half. Each of the four has a smaller chair behind it and to one side. Heir chairs, obviously.
There is a goblin that Sirius is pretty sure is Ragnok, High Chieftain of the Goblin Horde, seated in the chair closest to the young man’s right hand.
The young man looks so much like James and Charlus there’s no way he’s unrelated. The telling difference though are his eyes.
They’re green, almost like Lily Evans’.
“My name is Harry Potter,” The young man says as he stands and straightens his waistcoat with a tug. “Due to discussion with the Ministries in France and England we have agreed to make my official title ‘Grand Duke of Albion and Aquitaine’.”
The man pauses and raises a single eyebrow.
No one says anything until Sirius’s grandfather nods, “Yes, Your Grace.” And then the other lords follow his lead.
“I have a great many things I must do and a number of decisions I must make for the sake of the country, however. I have not lived in this country for a very long time and I am interested in the insider point of view. To that end I have decided to make a council for discussion, though all final decisions will be mine.”
“We are grateful to be considered, Your Grace.” His grandfather says again, earning him a little flick-of-the-lips smile from the new Grand Duke.
Lord Harry places both of his hands on the chair closest to his left, across from the goblin. “I have researched his matter thoroughly through various sources and I ask you, Lord Arcturus Phineas Black to take this, the Seat of Ravenclaw. Your family is the closest I could find to the primary Ravenclaw bloodline as one of your lord-ancestors took to wife the illegitimate daughter of Lady Ravenclaw’s only brother. This illegitimate daughter being the only child either of the Ravenclaw siblings had to reproduce.”
“I would be honored.” Sirius echoes his grandfather’s bow just a little deeper as is proper and takes the heir chair to the left and behind his grandfather. It’s not as big a chair or as ornate as the one his grandfather takes but he’s pleased to note that he gets armrests. And the chair has a number of cushioning charms so despite its severe look, it’s really quite comfortable.
“Lord Algernon Amadeus Bones, as I am sure you are aware, you are the most direct living descendant of Lady Helga Hufflepuff.”
“Yes, Your Grace. That is why I felt it proper to bring not only my official heir Edgar but his sister, Amelia.”
“I would feel more comfortable with the legacy of Lady Helga in the hands of a woman,” Potter pretty much confesses.
“As would I,” Lord Bones nods. “I have spoken with Edgar and he agrees.”
Amelia’s eyes go wide and the seventh year’s jaw drops, apparently she was not aware of this.
“We have many changes to make before we can make it official,” Harry warns Amelia directly before looking back to Algernon. “If you would take your seat.”
Algernon bows and settles into his chair on Arcturus’s left with great aplomb. Edgar grins at his older sister and gestures for her to take the heir chair which she does with the air of someone waiting to be yelled at.
Lord Harry clears his throat and a House Elf in a neat little livery rather than a dirty pillowcase or a torn towel appears silently. The man raises both eyebrows and the elf snaps. A second heir chair, identical to all the other heir chairs, appears beside Amelia’s.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Edgar grins, full to the brim of his hail-fellow-well-met charm and takes his seat as if there is nothing strange about playing second to his sister.
And Sirius, well, he doesn’t know what to make of this. He’s never met anyone that didn’t have to verbalize orders for a house elf to obey them. He doesn’t even know what that means.
Lord Harry’s eyes linger on James before he focuses of his father, “Lord Charlus Potter.”
“Lord Harry Potter,” the man says back, gently smiling.
“Gryffindor.” Is all he says and Charlus beams at him.
“Of course, Your Grace.” He bows and takes the seat beside the goblin. James echoes him but his chair is on the right side of his lord-father, not far from Edgar, rather than on the left like the ones on the other half of the table.
The last man standing is not someone Sirius knows. He’s handsome, quite handsome. But he’s older, probably just shy of 50 and there is the shadow of a familiar gleam in his eyes. Okay, it’s more than a shadow. This man is fucking crazy and Sirius isn’t sure if the new Grand Duke sees it for what it is.
The Grand Duke inhales sharply, works his jaw like he’s tasting whatever he inhaled and says. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you arrested and Kissed immediately.”
Okay, so maybe the new Grand Duke does see it.
The unknown man scoffs and his grandfather tenses. “I am-”
“Yes, yes, you are Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am quite aware.”
“I am the Heir of Slytherin.” The man hisses.
Lord Harry raises both eyebrows in disbelief. “You might have been at one time but despite all the bad press Salazar Slytherin was not a dark wizard.
“His legacy would never accept you.
“Further, you’ve sundered your soul. The only way I have ever heard of such a thing happening is with ritual sacrifice and voluntary, perhaps even eager cannibalism of the corpse. So I say again, give me one good reason.”
“I am the greatest wizard to ever live! I don’t care what you think you know or think you can give me, I will challenge you and take your place! I will-”
The man turns gray and collapses to the ground.
Lord Harry shoots an exasperated look at the man that opened the door for them.
“He was going for his wand,” The man says, completely unmoved.
“Viktor, he was waving his arms around like a lunatic!”
The apparent-bodyguard Viktor shrugs, “Wandless Magic. He is known for.”
Lord Harry sighs in a way that’s more amused than put out and steps away. Several heavily armed goblins approach and start manually binding the man in layers of magic suppressing chains.
“Your people will handle him?” Lord Harry asks apropos of nothing.
“Of course, Lord Potter.” The goblin says. “Per the terms of our arrangement.”
“Your honor is a boon in these times, Lord Ragnok.” The young duke commends rather than thanks because one does not thank a goblin. “I hope you weren’t planning to vacate that chair soon. It seems I have work to do to find a suitable replacement.”
“I am quite content where I am, Duke Potter,” the goblin assures. “This is sure to be interesting enough to be worth my time.”
“If human affairs start to bore you,” He says as he takes his seat. “Please tell me. I’d hate to run roughshod over our burgeoning friendship.”
“Your Grace, if I may,” Arcturus moves to stand but Lord Harry waves at him to keep his seat. “My grand niece is rather obsessed with this man calling himself Lord Voldemort so of course I have done much research into the man. And, if I’m not mistaken-”
“Tom Marvolo Riddle is Lord Voldemort, I am aware.”
“And you’re just going to kill him?”
“He is a murderer and bigot with aspirations to become a terrorist against the best interests of the Realm. I will have him executed for crimes he has already committed, including at least six counts of murder. Two of those were witches – one of which he went to school with, his own magical grandfather, and his muggle father and grandparents. You can view the evidence, if you’d like.”
“That is not necessary but I would not object to the opportunity, Your Grace.”
“Your Grace,” Lord Bones leans forward. “The ritual sacrifice and cannibalism you mentioned. That, that sounds familiar.”
“I would think so, to someone of your extensive and esoteric education, Lord Bones, but it is unspeakable. An act of pure evil and insanity that takes to perpetrator beyond all hope of redemption.”
Lord Bones nods and relaxes. “I understand, and the Kiss?”
“A Dementor won’t stop until it has the entire soul it’s managed to take hold of. Theoretically it is the perfect way to… undo whatever he might have done in his ritual no matter where it has gone.”
“There are places a Dementor cannot go, Your Grace,” Bones warns.
“Yes, but those few places are completely manageable by a Goblin Cohort carrying a Writ from the Magical King,” Ragnok says with a truly vicious grin.
Lord Potter holds out his fist and Lord Ragnok bumps his own against it.
Lord Bones leans over and bumps Ragnok’s with his own. “If there is anyway I can help,” He offers.
“We will keep you in mind,” Lord Potter the Younger promises.
Back to EAD 2018.