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ffuturesThis is a crossover between the Harry Potter books, the Buffy The Vampire Slayer TV series, and the film Bedazzled (1967, not the 2000 remake), with some other crossovers and Easter eggs, so far including Dogma (1999) and Time Bandits (1981). All characters belong to their respective creators / owners / megacorporations of doom and not to me, please don't sue...
VII - Out of Time
Harry was lying on something hard, and was vaguely aware that he could hear someone talking. His whole body ached, and he laid still as the his memories returned. The fight, meeting the Metatron and Lucifer, meeting God? Could he really trust his memories, when he wasn't even sure what God had looked like? He tried to concentrate and listen while pretending he was still unconscious.
"Well, they're both definitely alive," a woman said. Both? Harry remembered the girl. Some relative of Dumbledore?
"Both of them have spell damage," said an unfamiliar voice. "I'm detecting curse residue from the boy, and there's elemental magical energy around the girl, if I didn't know better I'd say prolonged poltergeist exposure. And they've both been very close to the Killing Curse. What do you make of it, Healer Spiggot?"
"You're close, Auror Perkins," said Spiggot... Lucifer... "but as I mentioned, I'm familiar with both patients. Mister Porter was suffering from the complications of a failed attempted possession, and Miss Dumbledore was an obscurial. Both conditions now seem to be gone. Do you concur, Mediwitch Halford?"
"Definitely, Healer Spiggot, but I have no idea how it could happen." Harry finally recognized Halfrek's voice.
"Hmmm... An obscurus is essentially a powerful manifestation of the carrier's magic and mind; not a soul as such, more like a poltergeist, but having many of the same properties. Mister Porter's curse carried a fragment of a soul, though fortunately not enough to complete possession. There's reason to believe that the killing curse works by separating the victim's body and soul, although that has never been conclusively confirmed. When Mister Porter tried to shield Miss Dumbledore the obscurus must have flared, so that the obscurus and the soul fragment were pushed out from their bodies and stripped from them by the curse. A chance in a million, but it seems to have happened."
Porter? Who the hell was... oh, right. There were reasons for Harry to stay clear of the Potter name and family, since he had no way to prove who he was. He'd better go along with it, at least for now. Porter was close enough that he wouldn't have trouble remembering it. He groaned quietly, then coughed and opened his eyes, trying to give the impression that he was barely conscious. He felt nauseous and shaky. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his glasses, and he could barely make out the features of the people looking at him; Lucifer, Halfrek, a man in Auror robes, and another wizard behind them, who looked to be a little older than Harry.
"Mister Porter? Can you hear me? How do you feel?" asked Lucifer.
"Uhh... Healer Spiggot? It hurts... everything hurts... what happened...?"
Lucifer winked at him. "You ran into a fight and had a very narrow escape from death. Stay still and try to rest. The Mediwitch will give you a restorative potion, please sip it slowly."
"I remember... there was a girl... screaming. Is she all right?"
"Still unconscious," said Halfrek, raising him and slipping a cushion under his back, then holding a potion bottle to his lips, "I hope she'll recover soon."
Harry took a cautious sip, recognized the taste from Quidditch injuries, and drank a little more.
He heard someone cough, and guessed it was the girl, as the man in the background leaned down and said "Ariana?"
Spiggot turned away from Harry, saying "Mediwitch Halford, your help please."
"Can you finish the vial on your own?" asked Halfrek. "I need to tend to the girl."
Harry took the vial and continued to drink, feeling less shaky as the potion took effect.
The Auror kneeled beside him, a small scroll and quill in his hands, and said "Mister Porter? Harry Porter?"
"Yes?" said Harry, hoping that the auror didn't have a way to detect the implied lie.
"Of the Bedfordshire Porters?"
"I don't think so. I don't know much about my parents, they died when I was a baby, but I live with my aunt and uncle in a village in Surrey." Harry was fairly sure that there was a village there in this time, that later became the suburb he remembered, so it wasn't a lie.
"Thanks. Please tell me how you came to be here tonight."
"It all starts with my parents. They were murdered by some sort of maniac when I was about a year old; the attack left me with a cursed scar, and nobody has ever been able to remove it. Recently I heard that Healer Spiggot was good with that sort of thing and asked him to take a look. I was looking for his house when I heard spellfire and screams from one of the houses. I didn't know what to think, but I ran over to see if I could help."
"How did you enter the house?"
"I cast the unlocking spell as I ran to the door and pushed it open. Then I saw three men fighting, and a girl screaming at them and trying to get them to stop. I could see that she was going to be in the line of fire if she stepped off the stairs, so I ran to stop her. I used a couple of shielding spells and I think I dodged some other spells that were aimed at me, but someone must have hit me as I got to her."
"Did you recognize the spell?"
"I heard someone shout something... it sounded like Abra something, maybe Aveda. I thought that was the start of the killing curse, but I'm still alive."
"You've had a remarkable escape," said the Auror. "Now, if I can examine your wand for a moment..."
Harry felt his clothes and eventually found it tucked into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Sorry, I transfigured my clothes to be a bit more muggle-worthy, normally it would be in my sleeve. Someone must have tucked it in here after I was knocked out."
"Well done for changing your clothes, I wish everyone was as careful." He took Harry's wand and cast a non-verbal spell. "Hmm... holly, phoenix feather core, not a combination you see much. One of Olivander's?"
"That's right. How did you know?"
"My grandad was a wand-maker, I picked up a few tricks from him. Prior Incantato!" Faint images appeared of Harry casting several spells, beginning with the most recent, the shield spells he'd used in the fight, then the unlocking spell on the door, and the spells he'd cast on his clothing. Fortunately it stopped before anything too revealing appeared. "That all seems in order. I don't think I'll need to bother you further tonight."
Harry tried to sit up more to see what was going on, but the potion and events of the day were catching up with him and he quickly fell asleep.
Harry woke. He was still lying on the floor, but now covered by a blanket, hearing the chimes of a clock. If he hadn't missed any it was two o'clock, probably two AM. He stretched, still feeling sore, and slowly sat up. He could hear voices from one of the rooms off the hall, and knocked on the door before going in.
It was a comfortable-looking lounge with several bookshelves and wizarding portraits on the walls. He thought he recognized one of the portraits, a woman with sharp features who reminded him of the native Americans in cowboy films, wearing old-fashioned witch's robes. He had an idea he'd seen it in Dumbledore's study at Hogwarts.
Lucifer, Halfrek, and the man he'd seen earlier looked up when he came in, and Lucifer said "Feeling better?"
Harry nodded. "A bit stiff, but I think I'll be all right."
"Good. Harry, I'd like to introduce you to Aberforth Dumbledore."
"Uh... pleased to meet you."
"Wish I could say the same," said Dumbledore. Harry realised that he wasn't as old as he'd first thought, maybe only a year or two older than he was. "As you probably noticed, this isn't actually a good day for me. But you saved my sister's life, so there's that."
"I'm still not sure what happened," said Harry. "Why were those people fighting?"
"Cut a long story short, my bloody brother decided that he was going to slope off to Europe with his friend instead of taking care of family responsibilities, didn't even think about Ariana. They had some damn-fool idea of conquering the muggles, but neither of them could organize a piss-up in a brewery. Just spouted nonsense about it being for the greater good, then that bastard Grindelwald crucio'ed me to shut me up. That started a big fight, those two were slinging around unforgiveables without a care for who they might hit."
"Then you came in and interrupted things," said Lucifer.
Aberforth nodded, and went on. "The way Auror Perkins worked it out Grindelwald chucked a killing curse at you and Ariana then Albus hit him with a crucio, he dodged most of that and hit Albus with a diffindo, severed an artery. Albus tried the killing curse on him but couldn't get it to work. After that I hit Grindelwald with some transfigured spikes and that finished him off, but it was too late to save Albus. The healers were out looking for you and came to see what the commotion was about, the auror followed them in, and that's about where we were when you came round. A one in a million medical miracle, he's calling it."
"What do you call it?" asked Harry.
"Bloody fishy. Do you think I don't know my neighbours? I'd never heard of these two before tonight. Also, I found these before the auror arrived, fell out of your pocket, had a feeling it might not be a good idea for the aurors to see them." He slapped down a handful of coins and pointed to two of the galleons. "Those two are dated 1954 and 1977, the oldest sickle is dated 1945, the others are in the nineteen-sixties and seventies, and that one..." he pointed at a copper "...that's muggle money, but the last time I looked the muggle queen was named Victoria, not Elizabeth, and I'm pretty sure they don't have a two pence coin. Especially one dated 1987."
Harry looked at Lucifer, who shrugged and said "It's up to you, Harry."
"It's a long story, but basically I was in 1995 until a few hours ago, then I fell through a time portal and ended up here. And apparently I can't go back."
"Seriously? Nearly a hundred years? I thought time turners were only good for a couple of hours."
"He can probably tell you more than I can," said Harry, gesturing towards Lucifer.
"Thought so," said Aberforth. "Want to let me in on the secret?"
Lucifer shrugged. "All right... There's a network of portals through space and time," said Lucifer, "as old as the universe. God built them then assigned a bunch of incompetents to look after them. Humans were never supposed to use them. When Harry fell through it took us a few hours to find him, by then he'd messed up history so badly that he can't go back."
"By saving my sister?"
"He might have got away with that, but Grindelwald was going to be a Dark Lord a few years down the line, causing thousands of deaths before your brother eventually defeated him in 1945. Your brother was headmaster of Hogwarts when Harry left. None of that's going to happen now - by 1995 the wizarding world will be completely different. I'd imagine that there will be changes in the muggle world too, a lot of muggles were killed by Grindelwald."
"You're winding me up."
"Unfortunately I'm not." Lucifer's voice had changed, and somehow seemed more convincing.
Aberforth blinked, and said "All right, that explains where he comes from... what about you two?"
"We're from the future too," said Lucifer, "but we're both supernatural entities. Within a few hours our memories will have faded and we'll have merged with our earlier selves."
"What sort of supernatural entities?" Aberforth asked suspiciously.
"My lovely assistant here is a vengeance demon," said Lucifer, "and you'll probably know me best as Lucifer." For a moment his eyes glowed red.
Aberforth reached for his wand, which promptly turned into a snake, dropped it, and said "Bugger" as he backed away from the table.
"Don't worry, I'm not after anyone's soul, at least right now. I gave that up in the 1970s." He waved his hand and the snake turned back into a wand. Aberforth gingerly picked it up, tucked it into his sleeve, and sat down again, staying as far back from Lucifer as possible.
Lucifer nodded politely, and said "While I remember, Harry, it's probably not a good idea to trust either of us if you meet us again, because my younger self is still collecting souls."
"Okay," said Harry.
"Now before I forget, you'd better have this." He handed Harry a slip of paper; a cheque for eight hundred guineas, drawn on an account at the City and Continental Bank in London, signed with an illegible squiggle and the name Louis D'Ascoyne Mazzini in neat capitals below it, dated two days earlier. "You might want to disguise yourself a little. Take that to the bank and give the manager this note..." He handed Harry an envelope, with the name of the bank written in the same neat capitals. The envelope was sealed with red wax, the seal a hexagon containing a crest Harry didn't recognize. "Once he reads it he'll take you into his office. Give him the cheque. Refuse to answer any questions, and make it clear that you're just a messenger. They'll give you the money in gold, don't accept silver or notes if they offer them. That's eight hundred and forty pounds, by the way. It'll weigh about fourteen pounds, so take a strong bag with you. Make sure that nobody follows you when you leave. You could buy a couple of houses for that, and it should be enough to pay for the rest of your education and reasonable expenses if you aren't extravagant. Once you have the gold get over to Gringotts fast, open an account, and deposit as much as you can - if you do that their fees for conversion to galleons are low, they're much higher if you bring in muggle money and change it straight to galleons without paying anything in."
"Okay... But why so complicated?"
"Because Mazzini is the Duke of Chalfont. Killed a lot of his family to inherit the title. He's currently being tried for murder; unfortunately he'll probably get off but this is an opportunity to hurt him, should mess up his plans further down the line when they realise how many other people he's killed."
"There's some sort of snag, isn't there?" said Aberforth.
"The police would be very interested in anyone with access to his money. But nobody's actually keeping an eye on it. If Harry's careful and get it done quickly there won't be any problems."
"And without it I'll be broke?" asked Harry.
"Pretty much. I'm certainly not giving you my own money, and you can't even spend the money that came back with you, it would attract too much attention if someone spotted it."
"Okay. Can someone lend me the fare to London?"
"No need," said Halfrek, looking slightly surprised. "Mazzini is a murderer, hurting him a little counts as vengeance for his victims. I'll take you tomorrow."
"Will you remember?" asked Lucifer.
"I don't have to remember the details. I know that vengeance will be served, and that by doing this I'm helping an orphan. D'Hoffryn won't erase that, I expect. But if he does intervene, Harry, you'll have to make your own arrangements."
"Right," said Aberforth. "That's the money sorted, I hope, if not you did save my sister so if it all goes horribly wrong I'll try to help. As for education, I think you'll need to forget about Hogwarts, so will Ariana. The current head is Phineas Nigelus bloody Black, he's a total arsehole. If he spots anything fishy he'll take advantage, and he probably knows about Ariana, Albus could never keep his mouth shut."
"Where can we go, then?" Harry asked.
"Search me," said Lucifer. "Really not my problem. I think there are some other British schools, aren't there?"
"None that are any good," said Aberforth. "Hogwarts gets the big endowments, the rest are rubbish or crammers for OWL and NEWT students, they teach the minimum that will get someone who's been privately educated through the exams, but you'd need to be close to those levels to make use of them."
"What about the rest of the world?" asked Harry. "I know that Durmsrang and Beauxbatons are pretty good."
"Speak French, Danish, German or Finnish?"
"No..."
"No point applying then."
"Any English-speaking countries?"
"The Yanks and Canadians are right out, they've hated us since the War of 1812, the Canadian wizards sided with the Yanks. Australia might be a possibility, but the native wizards hate the white ones and vice versa, and both sides hate the British, so I wouldn't recommend it. How are you with hot climates?"
Harry shrugged. "Okay, I think, but I've never been further South than Ottery St Catchpole."
"Hmmm... We've got some cousins in Trinidad. Mum was a muggle-born witch, her sister Rona was a squib. You might as well know that they were both an eighth Negro, had a bit of Red Indian blood too, they were escaped slaves from America that ended up out there. Anyway, Rona has a couple of sons that are wizards. They speak English though there's a bit of an accent, and there's supposed to be a pretty good school out there. With a bit of creative paperwork that might be your best bet, and I think they'd like to help Ariana, and you if you play your cards right."
"How long would we have to decide?"
"It's probably too late for you to start at the beginning of their academic year - it takes weeks to get there by Muggle steamer, and I'm not sure when the next ship leaves - but maybe we can get you out there some time in October, you'd have to work hard to catch up but it'd help to explain any gaps in your knowledge. But I've got to go back to Hogwarts on September the first, so we should get you on your way before that, I don't want to leave Ariana here on her own."
"I think it might work, but we need to talk to your sister first," said Harry. "It's a hell of a big change, and I'd imagine she'll hex us both if we make the decision without her. She looks like the sort that learns fast."
"It sounds like you have a plan," said Lucifer, getting up from the table, "and I have to go deal with one of my younger self's clients. Try not to attract my attention, Harry, and you'll probably be a lot happier. Halfreck, please take care of things if you can."
"We'll see how it goes," she said. Lucifer vanished silently, and she disappeared a moment later.
"Right," said Aberforth, "you can use the spare room. It's been a long day, I'll get Winky to make breakfast at nine. Try to be on time, we've got a lot to do."
"Thank you - I really don't know what I'd be doing without your help."
"Don't think of it as help, think of it as owing me a big favour. Sooner or later I'll probably want you to return it, hopefully you'll be up to speed by the time I need you."
"And suddenly I'm guessing you're in Slytherin," said Harry.
"Gryffindor, actually," said Aberforth.
"Same here," said Harry, feeling a little surprised. "I was our Seeker."
"Reminds me, if you can think of any Quidditch results for the next few years let me know, I could make a few bets...."
TBC
Notes:
For more on Louis D'Ascoyne Mazzini, who murders everyone ahead of him in line of succession for his Dukedom, see the film Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949). I've fudged the timeline slightly since the film is set in the 1900s.
A Sovereign was a British gold coin weighing 7.32g and worth one pound sterling (until 1932, after which they were only issued for collectors and special purposes at their bullion value). A Guinea was a pound and a shilling (£1.05 in modern decimal currency), so 800 Guineas was £840 and as gold weighed about 6.15 kg, roughly 13.6lb excluding the weight of whatever it's carried in. It would have bought two four-bedroom houses at late 19th century prices. I am not going to go into further details of conversion between pounds, galleons, and other currencies in the 1890s - just assume that Lucifer knows enough about money (allegedly the root of all evil) and leave it at that.
I've made the US, Canada and Australia hostile to British wizards as an antidote to the many stories that assume that escaping to another English-speaking country will solve all Harry's problems. Life's rarely that simple...
The details of Dumbledore's Trinidad cousins partly come from the canon description of Kendra, and partly from ideas I've previously used in my story Dead Trouble, a Harry Potter/Buffy crossover set in the early 2000s. Apologies for Aberforth referring to Native Americans as Red Indians, it was the description most Brits would have used in the 19th century.
There's some uncertainty about Aberforth's date of birth, I've assuming it's as early as possible for him to attend Hogwarts in the years given in the Harry Potter wiki, some time soon after September 1893, which means that he's about the same age as Harry. He looks older because he's on holiday and hasn't been shaving, and has had a VERY bad day!
Comments please before I post to archives. Previous chapters are posted on these sites:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
VII - Out of Time
Harry was lying on something hard, and was vaguely aware that he could hear someone talking. His whole body ached, and he laid still as the his memories returned. The fight, meeting the Metatron and Lucifer, meeting God? Could he really trust his memories, when he wasn't even sure what God had looked like? He tried to concentrate and listen while pretending he was still unconscious.
"Well, they're both definitely alive," a woman said. Both? Harry remembered the girl. Some relative of Dumbledore?
"Both of them have spell damage," said an unfamiliar voice. "I'm detecting curse residue from the boy, and there's elemental magical energy around the girl, if I didn't know better I'd say prolonged poltergeist exposure. And they've both been very close to the Killing Curse. What do you make of it, Healer Spiggot?"
"You're close, Auror Perkins," said Spiggot... Lucifer... "but as I mentioned, I'm familiar with both patients. Mister Porter was suffering from the complications of a failed attempted possession, and Miss Dumbledore was an obscurial. Both conditions now seem to be gone. Do you concur, Mediwitch Halford?"
"Definitely, Healer Spiggot, but I have no idea how it could happen." Harry finally recognized Halfrek's voice.
"Hmmm... An obscurus is essentially a powerful manifestation of the carrier's magic and mind; not a soul as such, more like a poltergeist, but having many of the same properties. Mister Porter's curse carried a fragment of a soul, though fortunately not enough to complete possession. There's reason to believe that the killing curse works by separating the victim's body and soul, although that has never been conclusively confirmed. When Mister Porter tried to shield Miss Dumbledore the obscurus must have flared, so that the obscurus and the soul fragment were pushed out from their bodies and stripped from them by the curse. A chance in a million, but it seems to have happened."
Porter? Who the hell was... oh, right. There were reasons for Harry to stay clear of the Potter name and family, since he had no way to prove who he was. He'd better go along with it, at least for now. Porter was close enough that he wouldn't have trouble remembering it. He groaned quietly, then coughed and opened his eyes, trying to give the impression that he was barely conscious. He felt nauseous and shaky. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his glasses, and he could barely make out the features of the people looking at him; Lucifer, Halfrek, a man in Auror robes, and another wizard behind them, who looked to be a little older than Harry.
"Mister Porter? Can you hear me? How do you feel?" asked Lucifer.
"Uhh... Healer Spiggot? It hurts... everything hurts... what happened...?"
Lucifer winked at him. "You ran into a fight and had a very narrow escape from death. Stay still and try to rest. The Mediwitch will give you a restorative potion, please sip it slowly."
"I remember... there was a girl... screaming. Is she all right?"
"Still unconscious," said Halfrek, raising him and slipping a cushion under his back, then holding a potion bottle to his lips, "I hope she'll recover soon."
Harry took a cautious sip, recognized the taste from Quidditch injuries, and drank a little more.
He heard someone cough, and guessed it was the girl, as the man in the background leaned down and said "Ariana?"
Spiggot turned away from Harry, saying "Mediwitch Halford, your help please."
"Can you finish the vial on your own?" asked Halfrek. "I need to tend to the girl."
Harry took the vial and continued to drink, feeling less shaky as the potion took effect.
The Auror kneeled beside him, a small scroll and quill in his hands, and said "Mister Porter? Harry Porter?"
"Yes?" said Harry, hoping that the auror didn't have a way to detect the implied lie.
"Of the Bedfordshire Porters?"
"I don't think so. I don't know much about my parents, they died when I was a baby, but I live with my aunt and uncle in a village in Surrey." Harry was fairly sure that there was a village there in this time, that later became the suburb he remembered, so it wasn't a lie.
"Thanks. Please tell me how you came to be here tonight."
"It all starts with my parents. They were murdered by some sort of maniac when I was about a year old; the attack left me with a cursed scar, and nobody has ever been able to remove it. Recently I heard that Healer Spiggot was good with that sort of thing and asked him to take a look. I was looking for his house when I heard spellfire and screams from one of the houses. I didn't know what to think, but I ran over to see if I could help."
"How did you enter the house?"
"I cast the unlocking spell as I ran to the door and pushed it open. Then I saw three men fighting, and a girl screaming at them and trying to get them to stop. I could see that she was going to be in the line of fire if she stepped off the stairs, so I ran to stop her. I used a couple of shielding spells and I think I dodged some other spells that were aimed at me, but someone must have hit me as I got to her."
"Did you recognize the spell?"
"I heard someone shout something... it sounded like Abra something, maybe Aveda. I thought that was the start of the killing curse, but I'm still alive."
"You've had a remarkable escape," said the Auror. "Now, if I can examine your wand for a moment..."
Harry felt his clothes and eventually found it tucked into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Sorry, I transfigured my clothes to be a bit more muggle-worthy, normally it would be in my sleeve. Someone must have tucked it in here after I was knocked out."
"Well done for changing your clothes, I wish everyone was as careful." He took Harry's wand and cast a non-verbal spell. "Hmm... holly, phoenix feather core, not a combination you see much. One of Olivander's?"
"That's right. How did you know?"
"My grandad was a wand-maker, I picked up a few tricks from him. Prior Incantato!" Faint images appeared of Harry casting several spells, beginning with the most recent, the shield spells he'd used in the fight, then the unlocking spell on the door, and the spells he'd cast on his clothing. Fortunately it stopped before anything too revealing appeared. "That all seems in order. I don't think I'll need to bother you further tonight."
Harry tried to sit up more to see what was going on, but the potion and events of the day were catching up with him and he quickly fell asleep.
Harry woke. He was still lying on the floor, but now covered by a blanket, hearing the chimes of a clock. If he hadn't missed any it was two o'clock, probably two AM. He stretched, still feeling sore, and slowly sat up. He could hear voices from one of the rooms off the hall, and knocked on the door before going in.
It was a comfortable-looking lounge with several bookshelves and wizarding portraits on the walls. He thought he recognized one of the portraits, a woman with sharp features who reminded him of the native Americans in cowboy films, wearing old-fashioned witch's robes. He had an idea he'd seen it in Dumbledore's study at Hogwarts.
Lucifer, Halfrek, and the man he'd seen earlier looked up when he came in, and Lucifer said "Feeling better?"
Harry nodded. "A bit stiff, but I think I'll be all right."
"Good. Harry, I'd like to introduce you to Aberforth Dumbledore."
"Uh... pleased to meet you."
"Wish I could say the same," said Dumbledore. Harry realised that he wasn't as old as he'd first thought, maybe only a year or two older than he was. "As you probably noticed, this isn't actually a good day for me. But you saved my sister's life, so there's that."
"I'm still not sure what happened," said Harry. "Why were those people fighting?"
"Cut a long story short, my bloody brother decided that he was going to slope off to Europe with his friend instead of taking care of family responsibilities, didn't even think about Ariana. They had some damn-fool idea of conquering the muggles, but neither of them could organize a piss-up in a brewery. Just spouted nonsense about it being for the greater good, then that bastard Grindelwald crucio'ed me to shut me up. That started a big fight, those two were slinging around unforgiveables without a care for who they might hit."
"Then you came in and interrupted things," said Lucifer.
Aberforth nodded, and went on. "The way Auror Perkins worked it out Grindelwald chucked a killing curse at you and Ariana then Albus hit him with a crucio, he dodged most of that and hit Albus with a diffindo, severed an artery. Albus tried the killing curse on him but couldn't get it to work. After that I hit Grindelwald with some transfigured spikes and that finished him off, but it was too late to save Albus. The healers were out looking for you and came to see what the commotion was about, the auror followed them in, and that's about where we were when you came round. A one in a million medical miracle, he's calling it."
"What do you call it?" asked Harry.
"Bloody fishy. Do you think I don't know my neighbours? I'd never heard of these two before tonight. Also, I found these before the auror arrived, fell out of your pocket, had a feeling it might not be a good idea for the aurors to see them." He slapped down a handful of coins and pointed to two of the galleons. "Those two are dated 1954 and 1977, the oldest sickle is dated 1945, the others are in the nineteen-sixties and seventies, and that one..." he pointed at a copper "...that's muggle money, but the last time I looked the muggle queen was named Victoria, not Elizabeth, and I'm pretty sure they don't have a two pence coin. Especially one dated 1987."
Harry looked at Lucifer, who shrugged and said "It's up to you, Harry."
"It's a long story, but basically I was in 1995 until a few hours ago, then I fell through a time portal and ended up here. And apparently I can't go back."
"Seriously? Nearly a hundred years? I thought time turners were only good for a couple of hours."
"He can probably tell you more than I can," said Harry, gesturing towards Lucifer.
"Thought so," said Aberforth. "Want to let me in on the secret?"
Lucifer shrugged. "All right... There's a network of portals through space and time," said Lucifer, "as old as the universe. God built them then assigned a bunch of incompetents to look after them. Humans were never supposed to use them. When Harry fell through it took us a few hours to find him, by then he'd messed up history so badly that he can't go back."
"By saving my sister?"
"He might have got away with that, but Grindelwald was going to be a Dark Lord a few years down the line, causing thousands of deaths before your brother eventually defeated him in 1945. Your brother was headmaster of Hogwarts when Harry left. None of that's going to happen now - by 1995 the wizarding world will be completely different. I'd imagine that there will be changes in the muggle world too, a lot of muggles were killed by Grindelwald."
"You're winding me up."
"Unfortunately I'm not." Lucifer's voice had changed, and somehow seemed more convincing.
Aberforth blinked, and said "All right, that explains where he comes from... what about you two?"
"We're from the future too," said Lucifer, "but we're both supernatural entities. Within a few hours our memories will have faded and we'll have merged with our earlier selves."
"What sort of supernatural entities?" Aberforth asked suspiciously.
"My lovely assistant here is a vengeance demon," said Lucifer, "and you'll probably know me best as Lucifer." For a moment his eyes glowed red.
Aberforth reached for his wand, which promptly turned into a snake, dropped it, and said "Bugger" as he backed away from the table.
"Don't worry, I'm not after anyone's soul, at least right now. I gave that up in the 1970s." He waved his hand and the snake turned back into a wand. Aberforth gingerly picked it up, tucked it into his sleeve, and sat down again, staying as far back from Lucifer as possible.
Lucifer nodded politely, and said "While I remember, Harry, it's probably not a good idea to trust either of us if you meet us again, because my younger self is still collecting souls."
"Okay," said Harry.
"Now before I forget, you'd better have this." He handed Harry a slip of paper; a cheque for eight hundred guineas, drawn on an account at the City and Continental Bank in London, signed with an illegible squiggle and the name Louis D'Ascoyne Mazzini in neat capitals below it, dated two days earlier. "You might want to disguise yourself a little. Take that to the bank and give the manager this note..." He handed Harry an envelope, with the name of the bank written in the same neat capitals. The envelope was sealed with red wax, the seal a hexagon containing a crest Harry didn't recognize. "Once he reads it he'll take you into his office. Give him the cheque. Refuse to answer any questions, and make it clear that you're just a messenger. They'll give you the money in gold, don't accept silver or notes if they offer them. That's eight hundred and forty pounds, by the way. It'll weigh about fourteen pounds, so take a strong bag with you. Make sure that nobody follows you when you leave. You could buy a couple of houses for that, and it should be enough to pay for the rest of your education and reasonable expenses if you aren't extravagant. Once you have the gold get over to Gringotts fast, open an account, and deposit as much as you can - if you do that their fees for conversion to galleons are low, they're much higher if you bring in muggle money and change it straight to galleons without paying anything in."
"Okay... But why so complicated?"
"Because Mazzini is the Duke of Chalfont. Killed a lot of his family to inherit the title. He's currently being tried for murder; unfortunately he'll probably get off but this is an opportunity to hurt him, should mess up his plans further down the line when they realise how many other people he's killed."
"There's some sort of snag, isn't there?" said Aberforth.
"The police would be very interested in anyone with access to his money. But nobody's actually keeping an eye on it. If Harry's careful and get it done quickly there won't be any problems."
"And without it I'll be broke?" asked Harry.
"Pretty much. I'm certainly not giving you my own money, and you can't even spend the money that came back with you, it would attract too much attention if someone spotted it."
"Okay. Can someone lend me the fare to London?"
"No need," said Halfrek, looking slightly surprised. "Mazzini is a murderer, hurting him a little counts as vengeance for his victims. I'll take you tomorrow."
"Will you remember?" asked Lucifer.
"I don't have to remember the details. I know that vengeance will be served, and that by doing this I'm helping an orphan. D'Hoffryn won't erase that, I expect. But if he does intervene, Harry, you'll have to make your own arrangements."
"Right," said Aberforth. "That's the money sorted, I hope, if not you did save my sister so if it all goes horribly wrong I'll try to help. As for education, I think you'll need to forget about Hogwarts, so will Ariana. The current head is Phineas Nigelus bloody Black, he's a total arsehole. If he spots anything fishy he'll take advantage, and he probably knows about Ariana, Albus could never keep his mouth shut."
"Where can we go, then?" Harry asked.
"Search me," said Lucifer. "Really not my problem. I think there are some other British schools, aren't there?"
"None that are any good," said Aberforth. "Hogwarts gets the big endowments, the rest are rubbish or crammers for OWL and NEWT students, they teach the minimum that will get someone who's been privately educated through the exams, but you'd need to be close to those levels to make use of them."
"What about the rest of the world?" asked Harry. "I know that Durmsrang and Beauxbatons are pretty good."
"Speak French, Danish, German or Finnish?"
"No..."
"No point applying then."
"Any English-speaking countries?"
"The Yanks and Canadians are right out, they've hated us since the War of 1812, the Canadian wizards sided with the Yanks. Australia might be a possibility, but the native wizards hate the white ones and vice versa, and both sides hate the British, so I wouldn't recommend it. How are you with hot climates?"
Harry shrugged. "Okay, I think, but I've never been further South than Ottery St Catchpole."
"Hmmm... We've got some cousins in Trinidad. Mum was a muggle-born witch, her sister Rona was a squib. You might as well know that they were both an eighth Negro, had a bit of Red Indian blood too, they were escaped slaves from America that ended up out there. Anyway, Rona has a couple of sons that are wizards. They speak English though there's a bit of an accent, and there's supposed to be a pretty good school out there. With a bit of creative paperwork that might be your best bet, and I think they'd like to help Ariana, and you if you play your cards right."
"How long would we have to decide?"
"It's probably too late for you to start at the beginning of their academic year - it takes weeks to get there by Muggle steamer, and I'm not sure when the next ship leaves - but maybe we can get you out there some time in October, you'd have to work hard to catch up but it'd help to explain any gaps in your knowledge. But I've got to go back to Hogwarts on September the first, so we should get you on your way before that, I don't want to leave Ariana here on her own."
"I think it might work, but we need to talk to your sister first," said Harry. "It's a hell of a big change, and I'd imagine she'll hex us both if we make the decision without her. She looks like the sort that learns fast."
"It sounds like you have a plan," said Lucifer, getting up from the table, "and I have to go deal with one of my younger self's clients. Try not to attract my attention, Harry, and you'll probably be a lot happier. Halfreck, please take care of things if you can."
"We'll see how it goes," she said. Lucifer vanished silently, and she disappeared a moment later.
"Right," said Aberforth, "you can use the spare room. It's been a long day, I'll get Winky to make breakfast at nine. Try to be on time, we've got a lot to do."
"Thank you - I really don't know what I'd be doing without your help."
"Don't think of it as help, think of it as owing me a big favour. Sooner or later I'll probably want you to return it, hopefully you'll be up to speed by the time I need you."
"And suddenly I'm guessing you're in Slytherin," said Harry.
"Gryffindor, actually," said Aberforth.
"Same here," said Harry, feeling a little surprised. "I was our Seeker."
"Reminds me, if you can think of any Quidditch results for the next few years let me know, I could make a few bets...."
TBC
Notes:
For more on Louis D'Ascoyne Mazzini, who murders everyone ahead of him in line of succession for his Dukedom, see the film Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949). I've fudged the timeline slightly since the film is set in the 1900s.
A Sovereign was a British gold coin weighing 7.32g and worth one pound sterling (until 1932, after which they were only issued for collectors and special purposes at their bullion value). A Guinea was a pound and a shilling (£1.05 in modern decimal currency), so 800 Guineas was £840 and as gold weighed about 6.15 kg, roughly 13.6lb excluding the weight of whatever it's carried in. It would have bought two four-bedroom houses at late 19th century prices. I am not going to go into further details of conversion between pounds, galleons, and other currencies in the 1890s - just assume that Lucifer knows enough about money (allegedly the root of all evil) and leave it at that.
I've made the US, Canada and Australia hostile to British wizards as an antidote to the many stories that assume that escaping to another English-speaking country will solve all Harry's problems. Life's rarely that simple...
The details of Dumbledore's Trinidad cousins partly come from the canon description of Kendra, and partly from ideas I've previously used in my story Dead Trouble, a Harry Potter/Buffy crossover set in the early 2000s. Apologies for Aberforth referring to Native Americans as Red Indians, it was the description most Brits would have used in the 19th century.
There's some uncertainty about Aberforth's date of birth, I've assuming it's as early as possible for him to attend Hogwarts in the years given in the Harry Potter wiki, some time soon after September 1893, which means that he's about the same age as Harry. He looks older because he's on holiday and hasn't been shaving, and has had a VERY bad day!
Comments please before I post to archives. Previous chapters are posted on these sites:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
