Hogwarts: Alternate Timeline (Working Title)

The Gryffindor common room was empty. Empty chairs and discarded books were scattered about with bits of paper. A red colored banner with golden letters hung above the hearth, sporting the words "Happy Birthday George!" On the banner a lion slept, its tail swishing back and forth.

A whisper came from the entrance to the Gryffindor tower, words too faint to hear through the cold stones.

Creaking open, the painting swung aside and a student walked into the room. His brown eyes were red and his black hair was disheveled. The robes he wore bore the Gryffindor lion, but were mud stained at the knee. Gripped tightly in his right hand was parchment bearing a broken green seal of wax. "MM" was stamped into the wax.

Feet falling as though filled with lead, he went to one of the chairs in front of the fireplace and cleared off a large book before sitting down.

He sat there, looking into the black burnt-out logs that were in the hearth for a moment before closing his eyes.

Daniel Rogers went to sleep.

"Daniel? Dan, wake up."

Dan's eyes cracked open.

"Tom?" Dan opened his eyes wide as Thomas Huddington's face came into focus.

The shorter first year leaned away from the red chair as Dan sat up. Thomas was a foot shorter then the older Daniel, his brown hair was neat and combed while his blue eyes were focused on the fourth year in the chair.

"What... what do you..." Daniel's voice lowered to a whisper, his eyes looking down at Tom's right hand. It held a crumpled note with a green wax stamp on it, "Did you read it?"

Tom nodded, not speaking and eyes lowering to the floor.

With a silent rustle wind rushed through an open window, turning the pages of open books and brushing aside the bits of paper on the floor. It passed over a cat, moving through the fine furs. It touched Dan's skin, bumps of flesh rising where it went.

Daniel rubbed his neck, warming where the wind had cooled it. He didn't speak, just looked at the paper in Tom's hand.

"I'm sorr-" Tom began.

"Don't tell anyone. Not Jessica, not Margaret, not Henry or James. No one," Daniel's voice was deep and slow. His gentle welsh accent did nothing to soften the words.

Eyes still looking at the floor, Tom once more nodded.

Silence passed between them for a moment. The red light of dawn dimly showed through the windows. A bird chirped a long melody outside the window.

Thomas raised his eyes and looked at Dan. "Dan, do you want to talk about it?"

Rising from the chair with one motion, Daniel walked towards the portrait.

"No. It never happened anyway," he spoke as he left the common room.

Tom stood in the middle of the empty room, the tatters of a celebration being swept away at his feet. Among them now was Daniel's letter.

Daniel Rogers,

We regret to inform you that on the night of May 5^th, your parents' bodies were located in a Warehouse in Vancover, B.C. Canada. They were murdered by dark wizards who may possibly be Deatheaters. We have the dark wizards in custody and you will be pleased to know that they will soon be undergoing trial in England. Your sister is still missing, but we are coordinating our efforts with the CBMA and several United States agencies and are hopeful that we will find her shortly. A Ministry official will be arriving at Hogwarts within the week to bring you to your Uncle's House in Wales.

-Terrence Linderman,

Ministry of Magic

Dank and dark, the dungeon hallways were cold. Black shapes moved on the floor and ceiling; rats, cockroaches, and indefinable creatures emerged from the cracks in the masonry. Scratching noises echoed off the stones.

Without sound, the shapes froze and the scratching ceased.

As one, each figure turned away from a new sound which began; a dull thump of shoes against the floor, resonating through the underground of Hogwarts.

"Alohamora," spoke a dry voice.

The creak of an opening door moaned through the hallway. A shattering sound followed.

Footsteps came again.

And the dark shapes returned.

The Great Hall buzzed with conversation. Students spoke as much as possible between bites of shepherd's pies and tuna casserole, with one exception.

Tom sat by himself at the end of the Gryffindor table; his pie sitting untouched in front of him. Dark circles framed his eyes, which were looking into space, unfocused.

With a laugh and a groan, two students sat beside Tom.

"Hello, guys." Tom didn't turn his head.

James Westbrook chuckled, "Tom, you missed a fine joke."

Henry Upton groaned.

"Henry doesn't appreciate a good joke when he hears one! I was just telling him one about this girl who tries an invisibility spell to protect her chastity-" James paused, eyes searching Tom's face. "Are you alright, lad?"

"I'm fine..." Tom said.

"I don't think you're telling the truth there," Upton spoke, "Is it the theft?"

"Theft?" Tom asked.

James smiled, "History boy doesn't know something we do... well isn't that something. Oh, he's all high and mighty when the exams are up, but once something important comes up... I guess no one is perfect."

Shaking his head, Henry answered Tom's question, "One of the Professors found the room with the restricted objects broken into. The door was smashed open and most of the restricted stuff was gone. I can't believe someone moved through those dungeons without help. I'll bet it was a Slytherin!" Henry looked at the Slytherin table wearily.

"Henry, they're just sad that they aren't invited to our parties," James waved at the Slytherin table, a girl waved back, "Though I think we can make some exceptions."

"Daniel's family died," Tom spoke quickly, his eyes going wide after the words came out.

James and Henry turned and looked at Tom, ignoring the plates that lay in front of them.

"The fourth year?" James asked.

Tom nodded. "He said that it 'never happened'. I don't know what he meant."

Henry's eyes widened, "Oh no..."

"What?" Tom asked.

"I saw Daniel heading down the stairs to the dungeons earlier... when he came back up he had a necklace on, I thought it was some jewelry from his Slytherin girl, but..." Henry looked at Tom, "what if it was something from that room?"

No one spoke.

James snapped his fingers, "Time Tuner!"

The other two looked at him curiously.

"Nelly Hornwich accidentally signed up for too many classes so they gave her one. It was taken away when she dropped Care of Magical Creatures. They store that sort of stuff in the dungeons. If he took that, he could change what happened." James explained.

Henry blinked, "How do you even know that?"

"You could say I know a girl in Slytherin...," the third year winked.

"What girl wouldn't you know-"

"Hey! Focus on Daniel. Where would he be?" Tom looked at the two older students. "Where can he hide to use the tuner?"

"That's easy, Myrtle's bathroom," James said, "It's the one place no one goes, never figured why Filch or somebody didn't close up the place, the things which have happened there are legendary."

Tom shifted in his seat, "But what would he do with it? Save his family?"

"No, he coulda done that already. Just a few turns and he would be out. This long, he must be doing something really far back," James reasoned.

"Tom, you're the history man, what could he do to change what happened?" Henry asked.

Looking at Henry, Tom shrugged. "Short of killing Slytherin, he can't affect anyt-" Tom stopped.

The three students cast worried looks at each other before sprinting from the table and out the Great Hall towards Myrtle's bathroom.

Inside the bathroom was the steady patter of water, like the ticking of a clock, and the almost imperceptible sound of sand falling through a glass.

"Why isn't Myrtle moaning?" Henry's voice was barely a whisper as the three students entered the bathroom.

Tom looked around the bathroom, which was falling apart. The tiles were stained brown, with mold taking up residence between each individual tile. Water pooled where the floor had sunken down. Above the students the roofing creaked and groaned under the pressure of decades of neglect.

A shadow moved out of one of the stalls.

"Because I asked her not to, Henry," Daniel lowered his hood and from inside his robes he revealed a golden device, held by a chain around his neck. "She understands what needs to be done. She knows that we have to change it all to save my family and end her time as a ghost."

James spoke, "You don't think this will change anything? Killing a man six hundred years ago?"

"Ask Thomas. That little lying first year will tell the truth this time," Dan glared at Tom.

Tom took in a deep breath, "He can change everything, but not all for the good." He looked at Dan's eyes as though reading a book.

"Yes, I can change everything. I will be the hero! Salazar Slytherin, the bastard who started this all, won't start anything. He's going to die and the Deatheaters will never happen, the world will be better for it." Daniel said.

Henry stepped forward, wand held in his hand and pointed at Dan, "You don't know what that will do. Put it down, Dan. Put it down."

Daniel's shoulders sank, he let out a sign and let the tuner hang from the chain.

Tom let out a breath.

That is when Dan attacked.

Pulling out a wand with his left hand, he screamed "Crucio!"

Henry fell to the ground, screaming as a man tortured.

James pulled his wand, but also dropped to the ground, this time unconscious as a stunning spell hit him.

Tom just stood there, unmoving.

"Never thought I would learn those curses? Did you Henry?" Daniel asked as Henry continued to scream and wail on the floor, "I've been doing some extra credit, lets say. But don't worry, when I'm done the world will be a better place."

Daniel's eyes met Tom's.

"A better place..."

He gripped the Tuner and activated it.

"No," Tom said.

And the world changed.

London's streets were desolate. No street lights showed, no cars ran, and no people were visible in the cold night. A full moon showed down onto concrete and cobble roads, barren but for one lone figure in a black cloak.

He was almost invisible in the starlight. No moon shone down to reveal anything more then the faint movements which marked his passing.

Freezing in mid-stride, the cloaked man's head jerked as though listening to a distant song.

Nothing moved. Stillness filled the city for a moment.

"I told you I would find you," came a voice behind the cloaked man.

Harry Potter bowed down his head and removed the hood of his black cloak. "Weasley, I thought you were in France," Harry said. His slicked down black hair shined with the starlight, his eyes narrowed, the right one white with a scar running from above it to his chin.

Ronald Weasley emerged from a lightless alleyway, a wand pointing at Harry. A grim expression was on his face.

"Gotten a bit more serious since last year, have you?" Harry turned towards Ron as he spoke.

"Crucio!" Ronald thrust his wand as he shouted the word.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" Harry fell to the ground screaming; his limbs jerking and twitching as a puppet with the strings tangled.

Ronald paced a slow circle around Harry. "Did you think I would forget? Did you think I would forgive?"

A lone owl hooted in the dark, a whisper against Harry's screams of pain.

The wand lifted and Harry stopped screaming, though he still lay on the ground. His breathing came in short gasps.

"Ronald, make sure he tells us the plan before you drive him mad," Remus Lupin, hair grey and face wrinkled, stepped out of the shadows. A laquered wooden cane with a silver wolf's-head handle supported his weight as he approached Harry.

Ron's head snapped towards Lupin. "After Nymphadora, Dean, Sirius and..." his mouth closed and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"They are dead, Ron. We cannot bring them back by killing him, but we can make their deaths mean something," Lupin looked down at the pitiful figure still struggling for breath on the ground, "We can end it and break this... thing."

Ron nodded, looking away from Lupin and Harry.

Lupin took out his wand and approached Potter. "Now, Harry Potter, you will tell me what you were planning. You will tell me the people involved and the location of House Ravenclaw's leadership or I will make your last minutes the worst of your life."

With a deep breath, Harry began to chuckle. Short shallow bits of laughter which escaped his lips echoed off the vacant buildings.

"What is your answer? Truth or pain, Harry," Lupin spoke softly.

"Hahaha... Ron... Ron... You look just like... just like she did," Harry took in short breaths between words, "Did I ever... tell you... what name she screamed?"

Lupin looked up at Ron, who had turned, eyes watering, with wand uplifted. "Don't Ron," Lupin said.

"She screamed for you, Ron," Harry breathed normally, "Screamed for her big brother to save her. And he was off with his mud-blood, wasn't he."

His face red and eyes showing his rage, Ron raised his wand.

"At least I was working on the pure-blood," Harry laughed, "When I was finished with her she was weeping. And then I started again. And again. And again." Harry's eyes glinted and a crooked smile formed on his face, twisting his scar so that it broke apart the shadows from his face.

"Don't do it Ron. Don't," Lupin's voice wavered.

Words formed on Ron's lips, but were not uttered. Breathing out a great sigh and wiping the tears from his face, Weasley turned away.

"She pleaded. She was pitiful-"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Ronald screamed.

With a flash of green light, Harry Potter died.

The office of the Minister of Magic was cluttered with stacks of parchment. Candlelight dimly lit the room, it flickered its light across a map of England with various markings scrawled over the map. A large green circle was drawn around London.

In the center of the office was a large oak desk. It had scrolls bundled across it without any identifiable system of organization.

Behind the desk was a worn red leather chair. Behind it sat the minister. His red hair was turning grey and thinning. Face drawn, cheekbones sunken, the minister had the look of a man starved in body and soul. His eyes darted across a report.

HQ SCOUT REPORT

We have not yet found any evidence of House Ravenclaw having a Headquarters in London. The underground and every building, house, and chicken coup has been checked thoroughly. Harry Potter is the only known affiliate of Ravenclaw who is active. Suggest we capture him and use him as an informational source. I understand if this procedure is not acceptable to you, but it is our only current hope...

SNAP! SNAP!

Two figures appeared in the office with the sound of two gunshots. The minister's head jerked up.

"Sir," Lupin said, sitting in one of the two red leather chairs in front of the desk.

Ron nodded to the minister before sitting down.

Sitting up in his own chair, the minister let out a small sigh. "Did you find him?" he asked.

Lupin nodded, "We found him, but..." He glanced at Ron, "but couldn't take him alive."

The minister looked at Ron as well. The candlelight making Ron's eyes look sunken in, dead. "Ronald, is that true?"

Ron closed his eyes and gave a slow nod.

"Dammit," The minister sank low into his chair, staring at the map of England, "Lupin, I need you to go to Hogwarts and hunt down the Ravenclaws."

"Sir, I will try, but I don't believe I can succeed," Lupin said.

The minister frowned, "We still have to try. Those Ravenclaws are up to something and I need to know what, before we have another London." He turned his eyes to Lupin, "We can pass you off as an instructor. Lambert has the details outside, if you will excuse us."

Lupin stood, nodded to Ron, and walked out of the room.

Ron stood, looking at the minister. "He's dead. I killed him."

The minister stood, looking at Ronald with concern on his face. "I know," He approached Ron until they were standing face to face, "I know."

Ron looked down at the carpet, "I am sorry, I know I failed you."

The minister looked at Ron for a moment, eyes blurry. "No, you haven't son."

Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic, embraced his son.

"So, what do we know about Hogwarts?"

Tom looked up from the book in front of him.

EUROPA UNIVERSIALIS

THE HISTORY OF EUROPE'S MAGICAL CONFLICTS

"Tom? What do we know?"

Thomas Huddington looked at Damian Petrell. Damian was a towering teen whose black hair and green eyes gave the impression that he was constantly analyzing all that he took in; he wore black robes of rough cotton with a single patch containing a wand crossing a sword. The other five students in the small compartment wore the same robes.

"There are three houses: Griffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. No one really talks about how students are sorted into the houses. What we do know is that they are constantly fighting among themselves and there is a three-point balancing act," Tom paused and put his book down and pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from a bag next to him, "Just last week Slytherin launched an attack on the London refugees near the Hogsmead ruins, Hufflepuff tried to defend the muggles, but they had to get back to the common room because Griffindor had sent a group into the lower levels."

Damian raised an eyebrow, "That was all in the prophet?"

Tom shook his head, "No, but Mira has friends."

With a tight smile, Damian turned towards the other boys. "Alright, you get the picture. This place is a three-way screwball. What our friend here didn't mention is that there was a fourth house. That's right, I read books too," He caste a quick glance towards Tom, "Ravenclaw. It was exiled about forty years ago. If anyone gets any information on that group I want it immediately, understood? Good."

The compartment shifted, bags on the floor moved slightly forward and two students put their hands against the wall to brace themselves

"Looks like we're here," One of the boys said.

A knock came at the sliding door to the compartment, the wood paneling shaking at the force of it. "Get yer bags and get out o' to the carriages!" a deep voice boomed.

The five American students glanced at each other.

"Let's do this," Damian said.

Dark clouds rumbled overhead blocking the moon and stars. The only light came from lamps attached to a black train.

From the unmarked train's passenger cars, the students emerged. Hoods up and wands in hand, they gathered on the platform. Even the smaller first years were silent.

"Aright! All you first years, with me, the rest of you get on the carriages!" the voice came from a giant man, a wild beard and long unkempt hair matching the feral look in his eyes, "MOVE!"

The students shuffled into two groups, one following the large figure, the other gathering by the black carriages which had pulled up beside the train platform.

Damian looked at the other American students gathered around him, "There are other groups of us, but we need to stick together. Don't trust anyone else," he paused and took in a breath, "Now load u-"

"REDUCTO!"

White burst around the students and the world exploded.

Tom woke, shaking his head slowly. Students screamed, crying out for their mothers or just wailing in pain. Fire lit the night, bits of wood and carriage burned in the night.

"GET UP!" Damian stood over Tom, a large bloody gash across his head.

With a gasp Tom stood, looking around. The other three American's from the compartment didn't move, their limbs and necks at strange angles, mouths open to let out the last gasp.

"THEY'RE DEAD, NOW MOVE!" Damian gave Tom a shove towards the carriages which were still whole. They moved slowly down paths etched into the ground, some were on fire, the occupants shouting out and banging on the doors.

Three figures came running from the dark wearing dark blue robes, their wands pointed at the two Americans.

"Stupefy!" Damian stunned one of the figures, dodging a green beam hurtling towards him.

Tom pulled his wand out, but it flew from his fingertips when an expelliarmus spell hit him. He dropped to the ground, hood up, unmoving and avoiding another spell.

Damian yelled out curse after curse, but his yells were cut silent.

Raising his head, Tom saw Damian's form on the ground, unmoving.

"Damian..."

Two blue figures looked over at Tom, raising their wands.

"There's been enough killing tonight, I think," Out of the night came a figure, wearing a simple grey suit with a cape draw about his back. A wolf's head wood cane was gripped in his hand.

The figures hesitated, wands still pointed at Tom.

"Go on," the older wizard raised a wand in his free hand.

Looking at one another, the blue robed figures backed away until the darkness swallowed them.

The wizard's shoulders sagged, a quite word escaping his lips which Tom couldn't hear.

"It's alright, you can get up now," the wizard said in Tom's direction.

Standing slowly with his hands up, Tom looked down at the unmoving Damian, face set and eyes dry.

Following Tom's eyes, the wizard looked down at Damian. "I'm sorry, he's gone," the wizard said, "And you can put your hands down. Accio Wand!"

Hands now against his side, Tom watched as the older wizard caught hid wand and looked at it.

"Eleven inch... Evergreen?" The wizard threw the wand to Thomas, "Where did you get that?"

"Tritons Wands in Washington; who are you?" Tom asked.

"Remus Lupin, I'm one of your instructors this year. You must be one of the foreign students here to join us," Lupin smiled, putting his wand back in his pocket, "I suppose we should get you to the castle before you get the wrong impression."

The way to the castle was long and hard in the darkness, neither Lupin nor Tom setting a light the entire way. Each movement was slow and deliberate, taken without noise. Occasionally shouted spells and cries of pain could be heard in the dark, but they never risked light. After two hours, they arrived.

Tom walked over the broken bars of what had once been the gates of Hogwarts. Rubble from what may have been two pillars was piled beside bars and two statues of hogsheads, beaten by time, were cast beside the piles.

"Just over this hill," Lupin broke the silence.

With silent steps, they crested the hill and Tom saw Hogwarts.

Mouth agape, Tom's eyes looked at each tower and wall of the ancient castle. It had ramparts and towers shooting off into the sky, open windows pouring light into the world surrounding the castle.

Lupin opened the oak doors to the castle and went in, Tom followed him closely.

"Now, go on ahead in, the feast should be started even with these... events," Lupin gestured towards the doors to the Greathall.

"Thank you," Tom said before walking into the Hall.

"...and I would like to remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits unless on patrol and... Ah, if I'm not mistaken, I believe one of our first American exchange students has arrived," A wizard with a long beard and sunken features pointed out Tom as he stepped into the Greathall.

Tom stopped and stood in place. Face as red as a beat, he nodded.

"Then we must sort you," He turned to another ancient looking wizard and spoke briefly.

The ancient wizard went out of the room and the wizard who had been speaking gestured for Tom to come up to the front.

By the time he reached the front, being stared at by the entire hall and hearing whispers between students, an old hat and a stool had been brought out by the ancient professor.

Tom sat on the stool once it was set down and the hat was placed on his head.

"An old one, aren't you? Usually they don't give me someone like you, but I think I can find where to put you... Talent, willpower, and what is this?" Tom flinched as the hat spoke to him, "I think I know right where to put you, but you won't like it... not at all... SLYTHERIN!"

The professor took the hat off Tom and motioned for him to join the table underneath a banner of silver and green. As he sat down next to two other students who looked as old as him, the wizard who had been speaking at his entrance continued.

"Ah, and remember to be vigilant! There can be no more mistakes, and there can be no more Londons! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts, if the guardians would like to bring the students to their common rooms."

Two students from each of the three tables in the room stood, they brandished their wands and their robes held badges with large silve/gold G's on them.

"You an American?" a Slytherin to Tom's left asked.

Nodding, Tom stood with the rest of the table and followed the crowd.

"Where are your other mates? I thought we had more coming this year," the Slytherin raised an eyebrow.

Tom shook his head, "They didn't make it."

With a knowing nod the Slytherin sighed, "Happens every year, the Ravenclaws try to keep us from brining in new students."

"Well, perhaps you should do something about it?" Tom grunted.

"Like what?" the Slytherin asked.

"Kill them..." Tom looked at the crossed sword and wand on his own robes, "Kill them all."