Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

"Well, St. Mungo," Sal joked when the young healer returned to their hospital. "I heard you swatted the 'evil' Master Healer of London for the last time."

Mungo laughed, then he swallowed harshly.

"It was terrible to watch," he confessed tiredly to his master. "I don't think I will ever forget that ever again."

Sal just nodded and clasped the young man's shoulder.

"At least you can be sure that you will never try to follow his path," he pointed out seriously, the smile suddenly gone. "But in the end, I fear it was for the best. I'm still surprised how he managed to not have negative effects thanks to the oath before that."

"He didn't swear the full oath," Mungo said bitterly. "That's what he confessed. We will have to make sure that every healer's oath is monitored when sworn. Like that we will know if something's wrong."

"It would be for the best," Sal agreed with a sigh.

A bit more than two hundred years later, Sal would thanks to that agreement find out that swearing a healer's oath over a guardian healer's oath did just one thing: give the person trying to do it a headache. It seemed that the moment you were a guardian healer, you would always be a guardian healer - there was no way to change your oath to that of a normal healer even if you were basically forced to swear that oath.

"So we continue on as normal now?" Mungo asked Sal.

Sal rolled his eyes.

"No," he replied and when Mungo looked at him in surprise, Sal added annoyed. "I definitely won't continue to train all those so called 'apprentices' by myself! Do you know how tiring it is to look after so many people? A master should only have one to three apprentices - not three dozen!"

The answer was a laugh from Mungo.

"At least London will not lack healers after they're all trained," he reasoned amused.

Barely fifty years later, Mungo and his hospital was well known all over the Isles. Every graduate from his hospital wore green robes with a wand crossed with a bone as an emblem - something that hadn't been there ever before.

Mungo's hospital also had not only gained a reputation but also a name as well: St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Sal had groaned when hearing it the first time.

Mungo on the other hand had laughed.

"It's all your fault, Master Sal," he said. "You shouldn't have called me 'St. Mungo' where every apprentice could hear you back then!"

Sal guessed, the other man was right - but then, hindsight…

1899

When Sal returned from his memories, he smiled at Eloise who was looking confused at his face. She clearly couldn't understand his exasperation with the fact that he had to play the 'healer apprentice' in St. Mungo's in this time and place…

"Sadly there's no way I can tell them that I've been a healer for far longer than they've been alive already, so I had to start anew," he added to clarify for her, amused by his problems instead of annoyed. Then his face turned serious again.

"If you want to, I can stop the pain," he told her, his eyes grave and sympathetic.

"The… aging…?" Eloise forced out and Sal shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said. "There are even things I can't do. I'm no god, you know."

For a moment he could feel the sorrow welling up inside him, then the wind caressed his hair and he was reminded of the fact that sometimes there was no way for him to change somebody's future - especially when it came to Eloise who had been the one to step on the path that led her there.

"It's not your responsibility," the wind reminded him. "You did all you could."

And yet, Sal resented the fact that the only thing he could do was to stand by and watch…

"This was your choice," he said bitterly. "I researched your predictment since you left back to the future. I found no way to stop the moment you destroyed the time-line's pathway with your decision to return to a place that didn't exist already. I am sorry, so so sorry that I'm unable to do more for you…"

He meant it - as much as he knew it wasn't his fault, he still truly meant it.

"No," Eloise rasped out. "I… am… for… not… listening…"

She wasn't the first who hadn't listened to Sal, and she wouldn't be the last.

In Sal's eyes, she was just one out of many who had never taken the time to actually listen to what he said.

A lot of things would have been easier if other people would have just listened - but then, Sal had long since gotten used to stepping in on his own because other people were turning a blind eye on the happenings of the world…

1826

Sometimes, Salvazsahar Emrys-LeFay hated his life.

He was millennia old - and yet, when the Ministry of Magic started to exist in Britain and the Wizard's Council was changed to the Wizengamot, Sal had to be outside of Britain.

Well, it wouldn't have been that bad, if not for the fact that now magical travel and other magic could be monitored and would be monitored if the person wasn't registered as a citizen of the Isles. Of course, with Sal being from the future and in Asia when he would have had the chance to register, he was now in a small predicament…

"Either I don't set foot on the Isles until I'm born which means I'll have to tour Europe for the next hundred something years or I'll find a way to register without being treated like a criminal and locked away in Azkaban," Sal mused a bit more amused by his predicament then annoyed - but then, he was millennia old and living without problems was never that interesting. At least this problem was something new.

But what could he do?

"I don't actually fancy playing a baby and child all over again," he thought a bit exasperated. "Especially since I don't have any family who could claim me which would just end up with me being even more suspicious as I already am for the 'new' government."

Sal wasn't too sure if calling a government 'new' after it existed for over a hundred years was really the right thing to do… but then, compared to the length of time the Wizard's Council and the Gathering of the Lords had existed, the Ministry of Magic with its Wizengamot definitely still counted as 'new'!

"Well," Sal mused. "If I'd be sure that one of the Potters I knew was still alive I'd asked them if I could play 'child' or 'relative' to them - but since I don't know and there's no way but actually step on British soil to find out… hmm… what can I do?"

Of course, normally it wouldn't have bothered Sal if he could or couldn't step onto Britain for the next hundred years - he had been away far longer in the past, after all - but this time around there was a very important reason why he actually needed to return to Britain…

At that point of time, Sal was in France, staying with his Oncle and Tante.

It had been Nicholas Flamel who heard the rumours while he was out to buy potion ingredients and told him that there was a new Dark Lord in Britain who was dead-set on destroying Hogwarts.

"I could tell them you're my nephew and went to Beauxbatons," Nicholas suggested in that moment. "It wouldn't even be lying - well, except the Beauxbatons part…"

"It wouldn't," Sal said with a sigh. "But it also wouldn't stand up to any inquiry. I have no time to actually attend Beauxbatons and even you aren't able to get them to forge their records so, one inquiry and it will be all in the open that I'm not the person I pretend to be."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

"But if you go to Britain as Salvatio Malfoire you are the person you pretend to be," he pointed out.

"Salvatio Malfoire officially vanished without a trace hundreds of years ago," Sal replied, looking at his uncle pointedly. "It would be odd for him to resurface now - looking younger than he did the last time people saw him."

The other man sighed.

"I guess I forgot that little fact," he said, sounding a bit annoyed at having to be reminded.

Sal snickered.

"Getting a little old there, Oncle?" He teased and his uncle rolled his eyes.

"Hush, you!" He said, sounding as amused as Sal.

Then his face turned thoughtful.

"How do you like the idea of me contacting the current Lord Potter? While we normally don't talk too much, ever since you dragging both of our families into the eradication of the Slytherin family, we at least write the Potters Yule cards every year."

Sal rolled his eyes.

"Figures," he muttered. "Yule cards!"

Nicholas shrugged.

"It's too much of a hassle to remember the birthdays of the current living Potters and not get them mixed up with the ones of the past, so your Tante Perenelle and I settled on Yule cards."

Sal decided not to comment on the fact that Nicholas and Perenelle weren't forced at all to keep contact with the other family.

"Anyway," his uncle continued. "I can write Lord Potter and tell him about your predicament. If he accepts, we just make sure that the goblins add you to the Lord's family tree somehow and voilà - one new identity for you!"

Sal snorted.

"You know that this doesn't change the fact that I'll not be registered in Britain and that I won't have any schooling records or whatever," he pointed out half-amused and half-annoyed.

Nicholas frowned at him.

"Aren't you able to adjust your age?" He asked interestedly. "I mean - I saw you do it and I know that it wasn't a glamour but a true adjustment… or at least as true as a false age can be…"

Sal sighed.

After his uncle and aunt had gained immortality thanks to the Philosopher's stone, they had of course started to find out bits and pieces about Sal's true self. He had never bothered hiding from them, so his ability to age and de-age was known to them to a certain extent - Sal had never bothered to tell them that if he wanted to he could basically change himself to every age, from baby to old man. Not that Sal had ever deliberately taken the form of a baby either. He preferred to be able to take care of himself, thank you very much.

"Or is this twenty-something year old body the youngest you can manage?" His uncle added while gesturing at Sal's body - which was looking like Sal's preferred age range again.

Sal sighed.

"No," he said not totally happy about having to confess that. "I can turn younger if I want to."

He just never truly wanted to - especially since things normally decided to go pear-shaped the moment Sal decided on an age below twenty…

"Well, then we'll make sure that you're just old enough to go to Hogwarts after we explain everything to the Lord Potter and then smuggle you into Hogwarts as a student so that you can defend it from that vicious Lord Morgan or whatever he calls himself," Nicholas said smirking.

Sal just raised an eyebrow.

"You know that it's the parents who register the children at birth and not Hogwarts," he pointed out unhappily. "Even mundane born are registered the moment they have their first bout of accidental magic which is way before Hogwarts…"

Nicholas waved it off.

"We just say that you were born in France and that your parents obviously forgot to register you," he said, then his face turned pensive. "I believe that the current Lord Potter even had a younger sister who went missing about nine years ago. It should be easy to introduce you as her child…"

Sal grimaced.

"That doesn't change the fact that I don't actually want to play a child, you know?" He pointed out unhappily.

Nicholas snorted.

"It's not as if you're truly forced to play a child," he said. "The Lord Potter will know your actual age and your reasons for going to Hogwarts -"

"But the people in Hogwarts won't!" Sal pointed out with an eye-roll.

This stopped his uncle in his tracks.

"Hmm… yeah, they won't," he conceded. "But you said it yourself: there's a Dark Lord out there who wants to attack Hogwarts. You are the one with the best connection to the wards, the one who can manipulate the wards as you have shown before - if that means to play a child so that you are part of Hogwarts, so be it!"

"If I could go as a teacher -"

"That Morgan… Morrigan… whatever dude would try to take you out first like he will try with every other teacher he will encounter the moment he enters Hogwarts. As a student you won't be very high on the hit-list of that dark wizard or at all…"

Sal groaned.

"In other words you want me to go to Hogwarts disguised as a student," Sal sighed.

He just sighed again when his uncle grinned mischievously.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle would have turned out as mischievous as he had if he had not lived as long as he had.

In the end he just rolled his eyes.

"Figures that you want to see me suffer," he declared, not truly exasperated.

His uncle smiled.

"It's my duty to make you suffer as your uncle," Nicholas pointed out. "And now stop with your objections. I'll contact Lord Potter and make sure that he knows everything."

Sal sighed and shook his head.

"You can't," he said tiredly. "He'll be held accountable if I'm posing as his unregistered nephew - and you and I know that it will come out the moment I use my magic for the first time…"

Nicholas frowned.

"But posing as a child would be the best way to get you into Hogwarts," he pointed out. "And you need relations -"

That stopped Sal in his tracks.

Did he truly need relations?

He wasn't too sure what kind of magical innovations had reached Britain in this century - but he was quite sure that whatever it was, he would be able to circumvent a lot of the repercussions if he truly appeared on the Isles as a child…

"Maybe," he said slowly. "I truly should simply appear in Britain…"

His uncle looked at him frowning.

"I'm not too sure if that's a good idea, Salvatio," he said slowly. "The Ministry won't take it lightly if there's suddenly and unexplainably a foreign wizard in their mid."

Sal inclined his head.

"You're right," he told his uncle. "But I'm sure that I can twist the whole thing so that they don't throw me into Azkaban - even if I have to tell them that I've been living for centuries already…"

"You know that being centuries old won't bring you into Hogwarts," his uncle pointed out.

Sal groaned.

He couldn't fault his uncle for that reasoning.

"So I need another explanation," he concluded.

"If you want to get into Hogwarts with that ruse to ensure that that moron of a wizard is definitely stopped by the wards," Nicholas said shrugging.

Sal pinched his nose.

His uncle was right.

Sal needed to get into Hogwarts somehow - and to get there he needed to be a child …

Sal grimaced at that thought.

He definitely didn't want to play child - but he guessed that there was no way around it. As a child he at least wouldn't be prosecuted too much when they caught him…

"Maybe I should just change to my original age of fifteen," Sal thought frowning.

But at fifteen he would have learned enough magic that the current dark wizard would keep an eye on him if the man truly somehow managed to invade Hogwarts…

"Younger then," Sal grimaced again. "Best would be eleven and coming in as a new student…"

At least as a new student he wouldn't stand out - and not standing out would be one of the most important parts if he intended to shield Hogwarts from the current threat without anybody any wiser about it…

But how could he enter Hogwarts as a child without any records of his existence?

"Sometimes I wish I would simply use my knowledge and time-travel," Sal thought exasperated. "It would be so easy to insert myself into another life if I just started out as a baby…"

Not that Sal wanted to live as a baby - and even as a baby he would have the problem of not having parents and -

It was then that Sal found a solution he hadn't thought about before.

"Time-travel," he whispered.

Nicholas frowned in confusion at Sal.

"What do you mean with 'time-travel'?" He asked puzzled.

Sal looked at his uncle.

"Exactly what I said, Oncle," he said. "It would explain everything: I'm not registered as a time-traveller. I don't have any records as a time-traveller - and if I'm a child there's no way that my time-travel was actually planned."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

"How by Merlin and Morgana did you come up with time-travel?" He asked bemused.

Sal shrugged, looking a bit sheepishly at his uncle.

"Because it isn't a lie," Sal said - something that might be a good idea considering that there had been some different truth-serum invented over the last two centuries.

Nicholas' eyebrow shot even higher.

"Time-travel isn't a lie?" He repeated and stared at Sal. "Salvatio - what?"

Sal sighed and closed his eyes.

"I wasn't born in the past," Sal finally said, looking away from his uncle. He knew that it would be a shock to his uncle - but then, maybe it was time that he finally told somebody else except of Myrddin where he actually came from.

Nicholas frowned.

"What do you -?"

Sal took a deep breath, but in the end answered the half-asked question.

"Some time in the future one of your descendants will marry into the Potter family," he said while closing his eyes. "I can't tell you too much, but it ends with me being born - the descendant of LeFay and Potter. A phoenix-born child."

His uncle's eyes widened.

"Are you telling me you time-travelled?" He asked in disbelief.

Sal inclined his head.

"I did," he said. "And I've been living in the past ever since."

Nicholas sighed and closed his eyes as well.

"Eloise," he said slowly. "You knew the language she was speaking because you were raised with that version of our language."

Sal shook his head.

"Not with the same version of our language," he corrected. "But with a quite similar one."

Nicholas nodded.

"I guess I should have seen that," he said while shaking his head. "At least after the language incident - if not way before that. There's no way you should have understood that woman, and yet you did. I should have seen it for what it was and not thought about it as some obscure ability of a phoenix!"

Sal laughed, but in the end shook his head.

"Time-travel isn't that common that people would think about it first," he said amused. "I don't think that you or Perenelle could have figured it out back then - after all, Peverell knew me far longer and yet had no idea that this little secret even existed."

Nicholas looked at Sal in surprise.

"This sounds as if nobody knew about it," he said.

Sal shrugged.

" Atr knew," he replied. "But he was the only one."

Nicholas furrowed his eyebrows.

"Attr?" He tried to repeat the word. "Who's that?"

" Atr," Sal corrected. "And it doesn't matter. He was long since dead way before I was reborn as your nephew."

Nicholas frowned, but in the end he dropped the matter.

"So… you want to go to Britain and tell them you're a time-traveller?" He asked, looking at Sal a bit concerned. "Don't you think that they might try and experiment on you or something like that when they find out?"

Sal snorted.

"I won't go there and tell them I time-travelled," he said amused. "I will simply go there and do what I have to do. If they notice me - and I'm sure they will - I will use whatever I can to stay out of prison. If that means to tell them that I time-travelled, so be it. If they want to imprison me anyway or try to control me, I will force them to let me go. I have some leeway in Britain, you know?"

Nicholas frowned.

"Leeway?"

Sal shrugged.

"You're my uncle and paterfamilias. If you don't hear anything from me within the next week, you will simply have to go to the Wizengamot and force them to release me. If they won't listen, I'll get myself out of whatever they want to do with me within the next month - don't worry about that."

If Sal needed to, he would use his power as the lord of the land, the magical prince of Britain, to force the others to comply with his wishes.

"Salvatio -"

"Don't worry, Oncle Nick," Sal said reassuringly. "I know what I can or can't do."

For a moment, his uncle hesitated, but in the end he sighed.

"Alright," he said. "But I will write Lord Potter and tell him to look out for my nephew."

Sal rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"If you wish to," he gave in and his uncle smiled.

"That's what I do," he replied.

Three days later, on the 31th July, Sal entered Britain looking like an eleven year old child.

He had planned to look around in Diagon Alley before being found out as an intruder, he definitely hadn't planned on stumbling upon an attack of Lord Morgan's men.

The men were attacking other people in the alley, downing them with curses and laughing at the panicking people.

Sal wanted to groan.

He had wanted to take a look at the alley and the changes - not start his day with confronting Lord Morgan's men…

Yet, it seemed like that was what he would do since the most of the other wizards and witches in the alley didn't even think about fighting back.

Without bothering to draw his wand - he decided to at least try and act as if he was too young for a wand - he drew some runes in the air and threw them at some children and who were trapped between some people who actually fought back and some of Lord Morgan's men.

It was a simplified rune sequence Sal had perfected over the centuries - there to shield and normally used by Sal as a shield between exploding cauldron and student.

This time around, the shield stopped the curses that would have hit the children just seconds later…

Sal saw the surprise and confusion of Morgan's men when their targets weren't actually hit.

But before Sal could think about using their distracting to down them, somebody else had already enacted that plan.

One after another three men of Morgan dropped to the ground, hit by various curses thanks to the quick wand of a man with silver eyes.

Sal had never seen that man before, but the form of his face and the colour of his eyes told him everything he needed to know.

The other man was an Ollivander.

Only that family had those eerie silvery eyes - not dreamy like the ones of the Lovegoods, but absolutely penetrating and eerie.

It was surprising that the current Ollivander had decided to take action - not because of his abilities to fight since the Ollivander family had always been good at fighting, but because of the fact that normally the Ollivanders didn't choose a side. They were far too valuable as wand makers to enter into battle…

As if Sal's thought had brought forth bad luck, ten of Morgan's men turned on the wand maker.

Regretfully, Ollivander was anything but an easy opponent so when he was finally downed, he had already taken five of his opponents with him.

Sal saw the man going down, hit by a spell that had hit him against the head, and sent out one of his runes just in time to shield Ollivander from the rest of the enemy's spells.

They all thankfully splashed harmlessly against the shield.

After Sal had made sure that his other shield surrounding the children still stood strong, he weaved through the panicking and fighting crowd to the wand maker and entered his rune-shield to take a look at the man's injuries.

The runes Sal used to find out the other man's injuries clearly indicated that the spell had broken the bones in Ollivander's head - not such an easy fix. Sal could just hope that the brain hadn't been hurt as well, since even with magic, healing the brain was basically impossible.

Sal also knew that the injury could kill the wand maker if it wasn't stabilized at once - not a good thing considering that they were in the middle of a battlefield and a bunch of children were depending on Sal to shield them. He might have been situated in one of the areas he could use magic a lot better than elsewhere, but that didn't change the fact that he had to basically keep an eye on three things - the shield of the children, the healing and the battle itself - and Sal wasn't too sure if he could manage that.

"Well, no time but now to find out," Sal thought sarcastically and then started with his work to stabilize the gravely injured man in front of him.

He pulled out his staff to draw the stasis runes and then sat it down beside him while he ensured that the brain wasn't damaged and the swelling of the brain would recede.

He was a bit surprised when barely three minutes after he started to treat the man, said man opened his eyes to look at Sal unfocusedly.

"You should sleep," he told the man and checked on the runes that shielded the children.

The wand maker's fingers twitched and touched Sal's staff. The man's eyes widened.

"Go back to sleep," Sal urged.

Unfocused eyes locked onto his own, then the man's eyes closed and he drifted off again.

Sal sighed and finished stabilizing the head injury of Ollivander before moving on to the next hurt person on the ground - either an innocent bystander or one of the defenders.

Sal was quite happy when barely two minutes later the aurors turned up. He continued to hold the shields for another ten minutes until Morgan's men were either caught or had fled and then dropped them. Instead of them, he started to concentrate on healing or stabilizing the defenders who had fought with Morgan's men.

Ollivander, while still out of it was already recovering and Sal guessed that with a potion or two - Sal didn't have those with him - he would be right as rain in another hour or two, so Sal had moved on to other defenders who had been hurt by spells as well.

All was well now, or so he thought - until he suddenly was at wand point by an auror.

He raised his eyes without stopping to apply pressure on the arm wound of his current patient.

The auror stared at him coolly.

"Who are you?" he asked Sal. "And where are you from?"

Sal blinked. He was surprised how rough the auror spoke with him, considering that Sal was in the form of an eleven-year-old.

"I am Salvatio Malfoire," he answered sincerely. "I am from Britain."

The answer was a sneer.

"Try again, stranger!"

Definitely extremely rough considering whom he was talking to… and even if he wasn't talking to a child - why didn't he believe Sal? Of course, Sal wasn't registered - but they didn't have a way to track that immediately, did they?

Confusion showed on Sal's face.

"I told you the truth," he answered finally, unsure of the reason that showed him to be a liar.

"The signature of your magic is not registered with the ministry," the auror sneered. "If you truly are from Britain then either you broke the law by not registering or you are lying and you aren't from Britain. Either way you will have to accompany us to the ministry."

Sal groaned inwardly. So they had found a way to tell if you were registered or not even if hundreds of other magicals were surrounding you…

Nevertheless, there was no way Sal would go with the other man immediately.

He had an oath to keep right now.

"Forgive me, sir," he said softly. "I will accompany you as soon as I have helped those people here."

The auror just sneered.

"It wasn't a suggestion, boy," he said.

Sal stared at the auror for a moment then he simply tipped against his chest and drew out his healer's oath.

"If you don't want to be responsible for the loss of my magic you will let me do my work before I am brought to the ministry," he said softly, hoping to shock the auror and also to guilt trip him, after all Sal was a 'child' and to be responsible for the loss of a child's magic should be something that stopped the even most eager auror.

The auror stared at his healer's oath; he gawked and then he gulped.

"Then treat them - but if you dare to run you won't like what'll happen to you."

"I won't run," Sal answered sincerely. Of course he had hoped to have some more time before being confronted about his missing registry - but then, being found while healing definitely wasn't the worst first impression he could have made.

Still, it wouldn't do any good if he was brought to Azkaban for something he had no control over - and not being registered as Sal had found out earlier that day was indeed punished with six months in Azkaban. But then, he was currently an eleven-year-old - would they truly throw a child into Azkaban?

It took another twenty minutes until he was ready. The most of the people now were either healed or at St. Mungo's - both of it counted as safe, so that Sal wasn't needed anymore. So he searched out the auror.

"I am ready," he said.

The auror and his partner gawked at him.

"You truly had no intention to run, did you, boy?" the auror finally said. Sal just shrugged.

"I told you I wouldn't run," he answered. "I don't lie if I don't have to."

I just play with the truth - but that was something the aurors definitely didn't need to know…

The auror just raised an eyebrow and then held out his arm.

"I will apparate you to the ministry," he said.

Sal hid a grimace and just nodded before taking the arm. He had no trouble apparating himself - but the moment he was apparated side-along, well… let's just say Sal hoped the auror was good at conjuring buckets in milliseconds…

They apparated.

The feeling was as sickening as side-along always was for Sal.

He couldn't stop himself. The moment they landed, he turned away from the auror and emptied his stomach on the floor.

The auror definitely hadn't been fast enough with conjuring buckets…

A soft hand touched his back.

"Child?" this time the auror's voice was soft as if he suddenly recognised that Sal couldn't be very old - and Sal thought that maybe sometimes it was an advantage to have troubles with being apparated side-along.

"Forgive me," Sal whispered, still feeling weak from the apparation. It always left behind the feelings of nausea and unsteadiness for him.

Basically, he still saw double and his legs were jelly.

"Did you never apparate before with someone else?" the auror asked.

Of course Sal had - but that had ended as well as this time. Sal's Oncle Nick had turned into a master of transfiguration since apparition had started to be common and he had taken Sal side-along for the first time.

Of course, there was no way that Sal would tell the other man something like that, so Sal shook his head and again he felt like retching again…

Oh, how he hated side-along apparition!

The auror sighed and vanished the sick.

"Sit down and put your head between your knees until you feel better," he said softly. Sal followed his advice instantly.

Oh, he hadn't felt as sick as in that moment for at least a hundred years!

But then, Sal's muddled brain mused, it had been about a hundred years ago when Nicholas last had taken him side-along, so it shouldn't surprise him that it was that long ago that he felt that sick…

The auror sighed next to him.

"I am sorry, child," he said. "I should have brought you to your parents and should have accused your parents for the lack of your registration - and not you."

Sal took some gulps of air until he felt sure that he could speak again. Then he said: "Ve no parents."

"Excuse me?"

"I have no parents," Sal repeated and slowly dared to look up.

Yes, he felt better again - not that it changed anything about his hatred for side-along apparation…

He still stayed on the floor for another few seconds, but then he stood up slowly.

"What do you mean, you've no parents?" the auror asked, now sounding more concerned than angry. Obviously being sick thanks to apparation was a child's trait in the auror's eyes.

Sal wondered if it was just a belief of the other man or if it truly was a child's trait and Sal was stuck with it thanks to his body actually still being fifteen. Maybe the nausea existed because of the not yet fully matured magic in a child?

Sal guessed that that was something to ponder later on and instead shrugged as an answer to the auror's question.

"I'm an orphan," he answered sincerely. For the third time - that thought somehow hurt.

The auror sighed, but his face had softened and Sal was sure that if he had taken a peak with legilimency into the other man's mind, Sal would have seen himself going from 'potential threat' to 'maybe just a child'.

"Let's get you to our interrogation room," the auror finally said softly.

"Will I go to Azkaban?" Sal figured that if he had to look like a child he at least could act like one as well for now - and the question truly interested him. Would they send an unregistered child to Azkaban as well?

A callused hand softly touched his hair.

"We will have to interrogate you, child," the Auror said. "But if you truly are a child, we definitely won't chuck you into Azkaban."

Good to know that Sal didn't have to take over the Ministry for unreasonable laws as well. It definitely was bad enough that he had to infiltrate Hogwarts to shield it from Lord Morgan…

Still, the auror's words not only brought relief, but questions as well…

"If I truly am a child?" Sal asked surprised.

"Polyjuice potion," the man said and when Sal forced himself to look at the man quizzically he elaborated. "A potion to change you into another person if you take it. If I was a foreign wizard and here to do harm I'd use polyjuice to look like a child - just in the hope that no one would look at a foreign child."

So polyjuice potion was finally invented…

Sal wondered if truly someone would go so far and use the potion to change into a child just to infiltrate a country. A second later, Sal wanted to roll his eyes at himself.

Of course there were people out there who would consider it!

After all, Sal had also changed into a child so that he wasn't suspicious to the people.

Maybe, if there truly was polyjuice potion available now, the precaution the auror had taken with Sal was understandable if not reasonable…

"Oh," he said and decided that he definitely needed to find out what kind of new things in magic theory and practice had reached Britain in the last one hundred years. Well, he had to find out as soon as he was able to get away from here…

Wasn't he lucky that he had ended up in the ministry before he had been able to gather the intel as planned?

Sal sighed and reminded himself that silent sarcasm wouldn't help him right now. He would have to wing it without the data he had wanted to get before ending up in the clutches of the Ministry…

He followed the Auror to an interrogation room. The room was dimly lit and small. There was a simple table in the middle and a chair on each side. In a corner a cloaked man stood and looked at them when they entered. His cloak was grey and his face was hidden by artificial shadows.

Sal looked at him with interest.

"An Unspeakable," the Auror said explaining, "he's here in case you truly are a spy from another country."

Sal remembered the founding of the Unspeakables back when he had worked with Ralston to ensure the safety of the magical world. They were researchers but also the contingency plan Sal and Ralston had developed after the Slytherin family had been 'killed off'. They had started to exist to try and stop the slaughter of whole families just because they stepped onto somebody's toes. The Unspeakables were there to gather Intel and warn people if something dangerous stirred in their midst.

Sal gulped at those thoughts but then told himself that he definitely wasn't a spy and therefore should be safe. He just had to work out how to placate the auror and the Unspeakable somehow.

"What will happen now?" he asked hesitatingly. The auror smiled and Sal guessed that he was right and the doubt of the auror had somehow lessened since Sal's reaction to the Apparation.

"We'll give you a potion so that you have to tell the truth and then we will interrogate you," the auror answered. Sal nodded and sat down in the chair when the auror pointed at it. He watched the man pulling out a potion and some parchment and a quill.

The parchment was put down on the table and the quill was sat on the tip on top of it. Sal looked at it in surprise. That was something he hadn't seen before even in the rest of Europe…

The next moment he found that his curiosity had won and he examined the parchment and quill with his eyes.

"What does it do?" he asked interested and watched with unintentionally huge and innocent looking eyes the quill writing down his question. The auror laughed at his surprised gaze that made Sal's currently young body look even younger than it was.

"Obviously it documents the interrogation," he said and the quill wrote down his words.

"Oh."

"Well, let's continue," the Auror said. "Auror Regulus Pollux Black interrogating Salvatio Malfoy for missing registration with the ministry. As Salvatio Malfoy apparently is a child instead of Veritaserum a children-friendly truth serum is administered."

"But what if I'm polyjuiced?" Sal asked concerned and intrigued with this new puzzle. He knew about Veritaserum and the fact that it shouldn't be given to a child until the child in question was at least fourteen and therefore definitely in puberty. To younger children Veritaserum would more or less often enough act like poison - and killing children just to get the truth was normally seen as unacceptable for most people.

But how would polyjuice play into the whole age-trouble with Veritaserum?

"You have the body of a child at the moment so it doesn't matter if you are polyjuiced or not. Your body can't take Veritaserum at the moment and the child friendly truth-serum will affect you like it would every child," Auror Black explained patiently.

"Oh," Sal said and wondered if somebody had to die to get this piece of knowledge.

Then the Unspeakable stepped forward to Sal.

"Open your mouth," Sal did as he was told and felt the truth serum being administered.

The seconds ticked by and a hazy feeling started to envelop Salvazsahar.

Sal inwardly mused what the truth serum would make him spill, after all he had lived for a long time and had been named not just once.

What did count by a truth serum and what didn't?

"What is your name, child?" the Auror started.

Sal felt the potion compelling him to tell the truth but it didn't compel him to say a specific name. It seemed that 'Salvatio Malfoire' was as true for the truth serum as 'Salvazsahar Emrys', 'Salazar Slytherin' or 'Harry Potter'. Well, Sal had already given a name so he decided to stay with the name he had told them before - even if it somehow had been mangled by the Auror.

"Salvatio Amethyst Malfoire," he said.

This time the Auror smiled, his doubt obviously retreating further.

"How old are you?" he asked.

Interesting question…

"Fifteen and eleven," Sal's mouth answered.

Sal blinked at the answer.

He wasn't sure if he should be surprised that both ages of his body counted or not… he also didn't know if he should feel relieved that he didn't know the millennia he lived as well or not. He was quite sure that if he had known them he would have been able to choose between the answers of his body-age and his mental age as well…

Still - why did the damn serum make him name both ages of his body?! Wasn't one of them enough - preferably the younger one?

The auror raised an eyebrow when he heard Sal's answer.

"Are you fifteen or eleven?" he asked.

This time there was no answer to choose from for Sal.

"Both," Sal said.

The auror blinked.

"How is it possible to be both?" the question was a good one, regrettably Sal had long since accepted that it simply was like that for him so the only answer he could give was: "It simply is."

The answer was a sigh then the auror seemed to decide a different approach because he asked: "When were you born?"

Good question.

This time Sal had just two answers to his disposal; one if he had to tell a date. After all he didn't know the date when he had been reborn in the past.

Seemed like his vague plan he made in France with his uncle was the answer he would go with this time around…

Well, at least he wouldn't have to make up how he ended up in Britain without being registered anymore. The answer took care of that just as well.

"31st of July, 1980," Sal said.

" Nineteen eighty?" the Auror repeated, disbelieve colouring his voice.

"Yes," Sal's mouth said.

"Are you telling me you travelled in time?" the Auror's eyes were huge now.

"Yes;" Sal's mouth said.

It was then the Unspeakable cut in with his own question.

"Unspeakable Croaker speaking. Does this also explain why you are fifteen and eleven?" he asked interestedly.

Sal guessed that that question was open enough to interpret it like he wanted, after all, it was the time-travel that got him stuck in his fifteen-year-old body and taught him how to change his age…

Thankfully, the truth-serum seemed to see it Sal's way, because it didn't make him explain or answer with 'no'.

"Yes," Sal said.

"How old were you before you left the future?" the Auror asked with a rasping voice.

"Fifteen," Sal said truthfully.

"And now you are eleven?"

Again open for interpretation…

Sal decided to take the easy way out.

"Yes," he said while wondering what the Unspeakable and Auror Black would make out of his answers.

How did you interpret it if you find an eleven year old boy who was not only from the future but once fifteen as well?

Oh, well, it wasn't Sal who had to think up an interpretation of that.

Sal wondered if he had spent too much of his life as a Slytherin considering that he had taken to twist the truth like a pretzel and was enjoying to see the other two men sweat…

The auror sighed.

"At least I know now why you stated both," he said.

Sal said nothing. He definitely wouldn't answer something that wasn't a question. It would just get him into trouble if he tried - at least that was what Sal guessed out of experience…

Then Auror Black turned to the Unspeakable.

"Is there a way to travel that far in time?" he asked the Unspeakable.

"Obviously there is," Unspeakable Croaker said snorting and then looked at Sal.

"Did you use a time-turner, Salvatio?"

For a moment Sal played with the idea of interpreting the question more openly and answer with 'yes' since he had used one when he was still in third year in the future - but in the end he decided to stick with the other answer. He definitely didn't want his time-travel to look anything but an accident, after all…

"No," Sal said.

"Then how did you get here?"

"I was attacked by Dementors. I lost. The next thing I know is golden light and pain. Then I was in the past," Sal said emotionlessly. The truth - just not the whole truth. Just enough for the serum.

"And you were eleven," the auror said sighing. Sal decided simply to not object. It wasn't a question so he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to, and he definitely didn't want to go into detail about his age-changing abilities…

"Do you have an idea what happened, Croaker?" Auror Black asked the other man in the room. The Unspeakable sighed and winked the auror closer - Sal guessed he shouldn't hear the answer but he always had a better hearing than most.

"Yes, I might. It is possible that it was the child's magic. It sounds like a case of strong accidental magic," the Unspeakable whispered.

"You don't sound happy about that," Auror Black stated. "I would have thought you would be. I mean you Unspeakables are trying to solve mysteries like that since I don't know when - and the child in front of you might even solve some of those mysteries and such!"

Oh, Sal was sure that he knew more about time-travel than the Unspeakables - but that didn't mean he would share. Knowledge like that was dangerous and Sal wasn't about to give it up to strangers - even if they seemed to be part of the good guys.

Thankfully the Unspeakable definitely didn't think that Sal had any reason to hold back the knowledge he had and instead took Sal's innocence as face-value.

"Accidental magic is just that, accidental," he explained the auror. "There's no theory behind it and sometimes it can't be repeated by trained wizards try as they might."

"Oh," the auror said, but the Unspeakable wasn't done yet.

"The true problem in this case is that strong accidental magic like the boy's is normally done by a child to keep it safe. That the boy didn't apparate to safety but travelled in time - and not just in time but that far in time - means that there was more wrong in the boy's life but the Dementors he faced."

"You mean…"

"I guess abuse - abuse and absolutely no one to turn to and no place where he had felt safe at. That also means that if he was fifteen that he not even considered school safe."

The auror sighed.

"You guess bullying, too, don't you?"

The Unspeakable nodded.

"And no teacher to turn to. I cannot believe that they failed a child enough in the future for it to travel in time."

"But then why did the boy land here, in this time, I mean?"

The Unspeakable shrugged.

"I would guess that this was as far away as his magic could get him," he said.

Sal wanted to raise an eyebrow at that conclusion. He wasn't too sure if he should be elated with getting away with the explanation of unintentional magic or insulted by the idea that he had been so desperate to flee from his relatives through time!

"But then," Sal thought thoughtfully. "If I remember it correctly, the Dursleys truly sometimes were people you should have fled from through time. At least like that there would have been no problem with returning to them."

Maybe Sal should feel sad that his friends had been good enough to keep him in his rightful time and space…

Still, while he definitely hadn't been treated well by the Dursleys and maybe even had been neglected - in the end it definitely hadn't been as grave as the Unspeakable made it sound.

He had had friends after all. Friends and… well, and a lot of people who either wanted to kill or manipulate him. Maybe that would be enough to send him to the past…

Just that it hadn't… after all, Sal knew exactly how he ended up in the past - and accidental magic definitely wasn't the explanation for it!

That was the moment he was brought out of his thoughts by the auror.

"Then why is he eleven now?" Auror Black asked confused.

Good question. What would the Unspeakable guess this time around?

The Unspeakable shrugged.

"I would guess that Hogwarts was a turn for the worse. At eleven he still might have held hope that at school it would be better."

The Auror nodded, contemplating.

"So, will he stay in our time or will he return to his in the future?" he finally asked.

The Unspeakable shrugged.

"There is no known way to return to the future," he said. "Add to that that the boy's magic definitely wouldn't bring him back into a situation he definitely wasn't happy in, I think you can be sure that the boy will stay in this time from now on."

"So, what do we do?"

"We wait until the truth serum has run its course and then I will take the documentation of this interrogation and instead will draw up all the necessary papers for the boy," the Unspeakable said. "There's just the problem with his guardianship. Someone will have to take him in and look after him, after all…"

Nope, that definitely wasn't something Sal wanted to happen.

Maybe he should have taken Nicholas' idea of contacting the Potters. At least then he would be sure that he wouldn't have to act like a child in the presence of his so-called 'guardians'…

"Do you know any relations of you, child?" Auror Black asked in that moment softly.

Sal hesitated just a second before thinking 'why not' and saying. "The Potters and the Flamels."

Those two at least knew - or easily could learn about his actual age…

"Anyone else you know off?"

This time Sal hesitated a little bit longer before he added after the truth serum urged him. "My godfather was a Black."

"You lived with your godfather?" the Auror said, this time softly and a little hesitatingly.

"No, with my squib aunt," Sal answered instantly.

"And where was your godfather?"

"In prison."

"Why?"

"For murdering my parents," well, that sounded more awful than it had been.

Stupid truth serum.

The Auror just sighed and looked at the Unspeakable again.

"Now what? Do we contact the Flamels or the Potters and tell them we have a relation from them in our custody?"

"No," somebody else spoke up. He had entered through the door just in time to hear the question of auror Black. "Now you give me the child and I'll take him in."

The Unspeakable and Auror Black looked a bit unhappily at the silver-eyed man in the door.

"Garvain Ollivander," Unspeakable Croaker said.

"The same," Ollivander replied evenly.

The auror's eyes just narrowed at the wand maker.

"What are you doing here, Garvain?" He asked the older man.

The wand maker smiled.

"I'm here to take the child home," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The auror and Unspeakable exchanged a glance.

"Garvain," one of them started to say, but the wand maker waved it off.

"I already know everything about the boy," he said. "I could feel it when he treated me. Don't worry, I'll make sure he is sent to Hogwarts and I will take care of him like my own."

While Auror Black still seemed reluctant, the Unspeakable just sighed.

"As you wish, Garvain," he said, obviously knowing that he would lose against Ollivander anyway if he didn't throw the towel now.

"Croaker!" Auror Black objected instantly.

The Unspeakable looked at the auror in reprimand.

"The boy needs somebody to take him in," he said. "If Garvain is willing and knows where the boy came from - why shouldn't he be the one to take him?"

It was then that the truth serum finally outran its course and the hazy feeling vanished.

Sal blinked and then rubbed his eyes when he still couldn't see clearly.

"Ah, welcome back, child," the auror said while turning his frown into a smile and Sal suddenly understood that if the potion would have worked with him like it worked with others he shouldn't have remembered anything. But then, Sal wasn't a wizard, he was a Firbolg-born, and Firbolgs always were more durable than wizards - especially wizards whose Firbolg-inheritance was hundreds of generations away.

So the previous whispering was just a precaution if Sal was an odd one out - Sal didn't delude himself into thinking that he was the only one who might remember what he had been ask when under truth serum.

The auror meanwhile went to a table in the far corner that Sal hadn't seen before and returned to the other table with a glass of water.

"Here, for the taste," he said. Sal took it and sipped on it. It was just water and not laced with another potion - not that Sal had needed it. He had had thousands of years to accept and ignore the horrible taste a potion produced in the aftermath.

He appreciated it nevertheless.

"What will happen to me now?" he asked softly. "Will I go to Azkaban?" Of course he knew the answer to the second question, but he couldn't resist adding it. After all, a bit deception never hurt…

"No, don't worry, you won't be sent to Azkaban", the Auror said now smiling more naturally. "We found out about your time travel and we'll simply register you in this time so that everything is alright."

"And what happens to me?" Sal asked.

Auror Black frowned.

But before he could say something, Ollivander spoke up.

"You will go home with me and I'll send you to Hogwarts in September," he said.

Sal looked at the man and saw amusement in his eyes.

Obviously Ollivander wasn't fooled by Sal's appearance like the other two were…

Sal's lips quirked in an acknowledgement of being caught out by the other man.

"Alright," he agreed.

Twenty minutes later he left the Ministry with Ollivander and the registration he needed.

The moment they entered Ollivander's shop, the man turned and closed the door, before scrutinizing Sal.

"Speak," Garvain Ollivander said, his face serious. "What do you have to do with Salvazsahar Emrys' staff?"

Sal smirked.

Obviously Theonel Ollivander, the Ollivander from the time of the Founders, had left some notes about Sal and his staff…

"It belongs to me," Sal answered, still smirking. When Garvain raised an eyebrow in disbelief, Sal just shrugged.

"I am Salvazsahar Emrys," he clarified. "Later known as Salazar Slytherin, later known as Salvatio Malfoire, son of Myrddin Emrys himself."

Garvain Ollivander's second eyebrow joined his first at those words.

Then his gaze intensified.

"Lord Morgan is after Hogwarts," he stated.

Sal returned his gaze evenly.

"That's a well-known fact," he said. "Especially considering that Morgan attacked Hogwarts three years in a row. It's just luck that he hasn't yet managed to actually take it."

The answer was an amused smile from Ollivander.

"I wonder what he will say if Slytherin himself will go against him and defend the castle," he said.

Sal shrugged.

"Nothing much," he replied. "If I do it right, he will never know."

Ollivander's smile widened.

"Good," he said. "And now tell me what I can do to help you with taking him down…"

It was then that the alliance between Sal and his godfather Ollivanneder's family would be renewed. The renewal would go hand in hand with the defeat of another Dark Lord and the appearance of a whole ward-set in Diagon Alley that could be activated by the Ollivander family in a time of need.

Of course, a century later Garrick Ollivander would be declared insane when he started to empty his basement and putter up and down the alley where the activation sequences of the wards were hidden…

1899

Sal returned to the presence, when the master healer noticed that Eloise had woken up and turned to face her.

The moment Sal noticed that they wouldn't be able to continue their previously unnoticed conversation, he gestured discretely to take down a runic ward he had placed around them that had kept the others from hearing them.

"A… Madam Mintumble, you're awake," the healer said, his eyes as grave as Salvazsahar's.

"I… won't… sur… vive… th'… night," Eloise rasped out the moment she noticed that the healer now had his attention on her and not on the information his spell had given him about her condition.

"I'm afraid you won't," the master healer said, obviously seeing no reason to beat around the bush. "We tried everything, but we can't stop the aging process."

Eloise grimaced and nodded slowly before lifting her hand and trying to get the attention of one Fleamont Charlus Potter - better known simply as 'Charlus Potter' by the most inside the room.

Charlus on the other hand was far too preoccupied with crying and screaming at the healers to notice, so in the end Sal took over and called the other man to his best friend's deathbed.

The other man still cried, but stepped up next to Eloise nevertheless, all the while murmuring to himself.

"This can't be it," he prayed. "Please! Not her! Not now! Please!"

"He might be my descendant," the wind whispered into Sal's ear. "But even he can't change her fate - so stop feeling guilty, Salvazsahar."

Sal just shook his head at the wind while watching the grieving young man on the other side of the bed.

He was so young - and yet, he had definitely aged since Sal had last seen him all those years ago…

1896

When Salvatio Malfoire stepped into the halls of the Wizengamot, people stepped aside to let him pass. A lot of people nodded at him in greeting, and even those who didn't made sure to not be in his way.

Sal hated it.

Every man, every woman was looking at him with something akin to respect, but Sal hated to be the centre of attention.

"Salvatio!" One of the men called out and stepped out of the crowd.

"Henry," Sal returned the greeting of his old friend with a smile.

He had met Henry on his way to Hogwarts.

" Is the seat taken?" The back then shy youth had asked while entering the compartment of the train Sal had occupied.

It was the first time ever that the way to Hogwarts was bridged by using a train. The magical world had watched the mundane world open the first railway just a year before and had enthusiastically copied the concept the moment they understood the advantages. Years later King's Cross would be built around the already existing magical station in the midst of London.

" No," Sal said. "Go ahead and sit down. It'd definitely more fun if I'm not forced to sit alone for the ride."

The answer was a smile from the other boy and he brought in his trunk and stowed it away with Sal's. Then he held out his hand for Sal to take.

" Henry Potter," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

In that moment, Henry reached Sal and pulled him out of his memories.

"Look who the cat dragged in," the current Lord Potter joked. "Salvatio Malfoire has decided to grace us with his holy presence!"

Sal rolled his eyes at his friend.

"I'm not holy," he said.

The other man's grin just widened.

"Hard-working, crafty and stubborn, then," he conceded.

"I'm not -"

"Of course you are!" Henry Potter laughed. "That's what you've always been - just look at your sorting in Hogwarts if you don't believe me!"

And Sal couldn't suppress his smirk when he was reminded of his sorting this time around…

The Sorting Hat was rummaging through his mind. Sal found it funny that even the hat was unable to penetrate all the Occlumency shields Sal had created over the years.

" Well, you definitely love to learn" the hat whispered. "You have a mind that Ravenclaw would be proud of. But you are deceiving. You use your knowledge to your own benefit or the benefit of others if you have to. I am sure, thoughts like that would make you a good Slytherin… it's just that you are also brave and would die to protect others - Gryffindor would die to have you in his house. And then the loyalty, so much like Hufflepuff…"

Sal could nothing but snort.

" But where to put you…" The hat said.

" You should put me where I belong," Sal suggested.

The Sorting Hat sighed.

" Yes," it answered. "But you are difficult. The Founders would have argued over your sorting. I am sure every one of them would have loved you to be in their house."

" I am sure Slytherin would not have argued with them," Sal answered. "I am sure he never would have taken me in."

" That's what you think, child," the Sorting Hat answered. "I think different. I am sure he would have loved to have you in his house… but I think that maybe Hufflepuff might have won - you are very interested in working for your goals… hmmm…"

" Then go ahead and sort me," Sal said amused. "But please be reasonable, my dear Hat. I will have to live in that House for quite some time, you know."

" Reasonable," the Hat harrumphed. "I can do reasonable if you wish! Have fun in HUFFLE…"

In that moment Sal decided to open his shields so that the Sorting Hat would be able to look at his memories of Salazar Slytherin.

The reaction came instantly.

" SLYTH!" the hat shrieked, not even able to finish the word before he fell from Sal's head.

The whole Great Hall fell silent.

" What by Merlin and Morgana is a Huffleslyth, Hat?" Phineas Nigellus Black, Headmaster of Hogwarts asked confused.

Sal raised an eyebrow at the Hat.

The Hat returned the gaze and then snorted.

" Moron," it said fondly. "I always knew that being related to 'Ric would one day influence you in some way…"

" I normally don't play jokes," Sal pointed out.

" And yet here I am, having screamed a name that doesn't exist thanks to you," the Hat replied equally amused.

" Hat?" The Headmaster asked the Hat again.

Sal raised an eyebrow.

The Hat sighed.

" HUFFLEPUFF," it cried and Sal's new and confused housemates started clapping. Then the Hat lowered its voice again. "But that's just because you promised to go there next to Peverell, you Slytherin!"

Sal grinned, bowed down and picked it up again.

" I knew you would be reasonable," he told the Hat.

The Hat just snorted.

" You're a deceiving, cunning bastard, Slytherin," it hissed but then it started to smile again. "Welcome home, my child, my father, my guardian."

Sal just grinned at the Hat.

" My parents were married, you know," he answered. "But thanks anyway." And with that he turned to the Hufflepuff table, aware, that everyone was staring at him.

Later nearly everybody was convinced that someone had tried to hex the Hat and had failed when Sal had been sorted…

"I still want to know what you did to confuse the Hat," Henry Potter mused.

"And I repeat: I didn't do anything," Sal replied amused. "It was its own fault that it screamed a nonsense word for me."

Henry rolled his eyes at Sal fondly before turning around and looking back the way he came.

"Ah!" He said the moment he spotted his missing companion. "Charlus, son, come here and meet one of my best friends!"

" What will you do when you've finished your schooling?" twelve-year-old Henry Potter asked his Hufflepuff friend.

Sal shrugged.

" I don't know, yet," he said. "Maybe I'll become a potion's master."

He already was one, had been registered since he married Andromeda - SEL, S alvazsahar E mrys- L eFay was his well-known signature.

" Or maybe a healer," he mused.

He had had his oath for millennia.

" Or a professor here at Hogwarts," he added.

He had been that more than once.

" What will you do?"

Henry shrugged.

" I don't know," he said. "Maybe I should choose my electives blindly?"

" If you don't know, it would be best to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Those two are needed or useful in a lot of professions," Sal suggested.

Henry smiled at him.

" You just don't want to go alone to those classes," he said amused.

Sal returned the other boy's smile with a smile he normally had always reserved for his children.

" That as well," he admitted and Henry beamed.

"Salvatio," Henry said when the boy - a splitting image of his father had reached them. "This is my son Fleamont. Fleamont, this is my best friend and your godfather Salvatio."

"It's Charlus," the boy mumbled unhappily. "Fleamont is an absolutely horrible name, Father. I'm going by Charlus now."

Henry frowned at his son.

"It was the wish of your grandmother so that her family name doesn't die out," he said. "And I think Fleamont is quite a nice name."

Fleamont Charlus' face turned sour.

"Well," he said unhappily. "You aren't the one who has been called 'Flea' for all his life because of that ridiculous name."

His father sighed and shook his head before turning with an eye-roll to Sal.

"Children!" He exclaimed amused. "So theatrical… ! But, oh well, Salvatio, this is my son Charlus! "

Sal raised an eyebrow at the other man.

"May I remind you that I'm the Ancient Rune's Professor at Hogwarts," he said amused. "Your son has been in my class for three years already."

The boy blushed when he finally recognised Sal and looked away, clearly a bit uncomfortable after he had corrected his father in front of his teacher.

"Well, yes," Henry said. "But since you haven't been at my home since mother died I know that you haven't met him yet outside the school since he was two… it's truly sad that the most of the time we meet, Flea- Charlus is elsewhere…"

"It is," Sal said and smiled at the youth - one of that generation Sal had fought for when he had fought Morgan so that they weren't forced to grow up with a Dark Lord lurking in the background.

When Sal had been in his last year of Hogwarts, Lord Morgan had given up on the idea of secret infiltration of Hogwarts and had led a head-on assault on Hogwarts.

The teachers and students had being panicking.

The moment Sal heard about the army in front of Hogwarts' gates, he had finally shed his 'normal student' persona and had stepped out of Hogwarts, a basilisk to his left, a phoenix to his right and in his hands a weapon that had belonged to him long before it had started to be adorned with Godric Gryffindor's name.

He had stepped out of the entrance to the castle, and his eyes, instead of showing fear, had shown determination.

" Atr," he said. "Close down the wards. Let's show them what it means to fight a losing battle."

That was the day Hogwarts would be known all over Europe as the safest place in Britain - maybe even a safer place than Gringotts…

This was the day, the reputation of Hogwarts would start.

This was also the day, Salvatio Malfoire would change from a gifted student to someone admired and fawned over. He would gain a reputation that would only be eclipsed by Albus Dumbledore after said man had defeated Grindelwald - and even then the older generation held onto their belief that Salvatio Malfoire would have been the greater man if they had lived at the same time. Of course, the younger generations objected and over time, Salvatio Malfoire would be forgotten while Albus Dumbledore's star continued to shine…

After the battle, it would also be the last time Sal would see his grandmother.

" My mind is slipping," she told him softly. "In a few months, I will be nothing but a mindless beast. I won't remember my life and anyone I held dear."

" Grandmother," Sal whispered and fear laced his voice when he understood what his grandmother was telling him.

She just smiled.

" One day, the phoenix will be lost to the flames," she told him. "One day the elf will be lost to his dreams - and the elder dragon, the dementor and the basilisk will succumb to the beast inside them. This is how it should be. My time has come. My mind is slipping away from me and I can't and won't stop it. Another month or two, and I won't recognise you anymore."

" Grandmother," Sal said again, now with tears in his eyes.

She just smiled at him warmly.

" This is the lot of the immortal, my egg," she said. "One day we will lose our mind and become the mindless beasts that reside within us since birth. One day, my egg, you will have to confront that beast as well - and one day, you will lose yourself to it."

With that she brushed aside his tears.

" Don't grieve for me, my egg," she told him. "And don't try to save me. If you have to, then kill me, but don't try to save what has long since lost its memories to time."

" But -"

" No, my egg," she said softly. "It's my time to go. I had a long and wonderful life. Just promise me, promise me you won't go near my mindless body without being careful, my egg! You and I know that a mindless basilisk will do anything to kill off its own offspring and I can't bear the thought of losing you to my fangs."

" I… I promise," Sal whispered while his mind supplied him with the image of a blinded basilisk in a dark and dreary Chamber set on killing a twelve-year-old boy who would once be the basilisk's grandson. "I promise, grandmother. I won't come near you if there isn't another life in danger."

His grandmother just smiled at him and then turned to Hogwarts, intending to hide away in its depth.

" I love you, my grandson," she said. "Never forget that, will you?"

" Never," Sal promised. This would be the last time he would ever see his grandmother alive.

Just a few months later, the only thing remaining of her would be the mindless beast hibernating in the depths of Hogwarts - a beast that would be used to kill an innocent Ravenclaw girl just barely a century later.

"Well, then," Henry said while smiling at his son. "Maybe we could meet again sometime this summer - this time with my son in attendance. I'm sure it will do him something good to get to know my best friend outside the classroom as well."

Sal smiled at his friend.

"I'd love that," he said.

Sal would never regret saving Hogwarts back when he had attended seventh year.

Sal would never regret working with Garvain Ollivander to keep Diagon Alley safe.

And Sal would never regret to meet up with Henry Potter that summer - even if he'd known that he'd leave for a new life as an apprentice in St. Mungo barely two years later…

But that was life, and Sal had long since learned to live it as he pleased. And it wasn't as if being young again and an apprentice did stop him from meeting his friends, after all…

1899

Fleamont Charlus looked at Sal in confusion when Sal winked him towards the bed, but stepped near his best friend anyway.

"Char… lus…" Eloise rasped and again hot tears adorned her best friend's eyes. "'m… sorry…"

And Sal could feel his heart break a bit at the look on Charlus' face. It wasn't that Sal didn't understand that he couldn't help her, it was more that he was forced to see his godson suffer because of a mistake the woman on the bed made centuries ago.

"You don't have to be sorry," Charlus said crying. "We made a mistake. Our calculations were wrong somehow and we…"

Eloise shook her head.

"I… made… it," she whispered. "I… was warned… I… didn't listen… sorry…"

And with that she closed her eyes.

Her breathing stopped.

Charlus' eyes widened.

"Eloise?" He asked, fear lacing his voice. "Eloise?"

When she didn't react, he stepped nearer, clearly intending to shake her, but the healers were faster.

"She stopped breathing," the master healer cried. "Ready your wands to shock her!"

One of the nurses forced Charlus out of the way.

For a moment, Sal watched the other healers trying to reanimate Eloise, then he stepped around the bed and up to Charlus.

Unlike the other healers, Sal knew that Eloise wouldn't wake up again.

"I knew you would understand that sometimes you can't do anything but step away and let me claim them," the wind whispered in his ears. "You've done well, my balance. Now look after my descendant. He's the one you can still help today."

With that, the wind left him alone with Fleamont Charlus Potter.

"Time of Death," the master healer declared from the bed.

Sal closed his eyes for a second. Then he reached out to Charlus.

He was just in time to catch the younger man before his legs gave out and he landed on the floor.

"I'm sorry, child," Sal whispered in his godson's hair. "I'm so sorry, child."

Charlus started to sob into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

Regretfully, some things couldn't be changed - and Eloise's death was one of them…