FicWad

The Founders

Founder, Born

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Summary: It's about a timeless story with many beginnings, middles and ends. It's about four ordinary people who did one extraordinary thing, but mostly, it's about friendship, love and one boy who strived for the impossible and succeeded. Godric/Harry.

A/N: This is a fic that I told myself that I'd never do, but I got inspired by the story: H is for Helga. It interested me so much that I started thinking about Hogwarts and the Founders and so on. Unfortunately I can't write a story without Harry. He's my character-in-one, so this ended up becoming a Harry-travels-to-the-past-where-he-becomes-Salazar-Slytherin story. Again, something I didn't expect or want to happen, but life takes interesting turns sometimes. I hope everyone enjoys the story, and remember, REVIEW!!!

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It is rumored that after Godric Gryffindor finally kissed Salazar Slytherin for the first time, Salazar frowned and looked away. When his friends and soon-to-be-lover asked him what was wrong, he muttered:

"I don't like surprises. They require too many contingency plans."

-page 58, The True History of the Founders, by Finnegan E. Dumbledore

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Harry flipped through the final pages of his history book with something approaching dread. He still hadn't found the proper information about the Centaur Rampages yet and it was his third time looking through the dull text. Next to him, Ron was anxiously looking through one of the school library books for help with his own history report. Across from both of them was Hermione finishing her transfiguration essay with a flourish. That was due soon too, Harry thought with a sinking stomach, and it had to be at least twelve inches. Hermione had written more than fifteen, with small handwriting.

Hermione noticed him looking and dealt him a severe look. "Stop pouting Harry Potter. You had two weeks to research this project and did you lift even one book? No. Did you ask me for help? No. Did you even look at the topic that you had been given? No!"

Harry winced, his shoulders scrunching himself back into his history book. "I'm sorry Hermione, but-"

"Oh honestly," Hermione muttered, "You two have to grow up. We're in fifth year and OWLS are coming up. We. Need. To. Prepare." Hermione punctuated every word with a slap to the wood table, causing several other students in the library to look at them with confusion and then understanding. "Now that you're behind on your history report, you'll fall behind on transfiguration and then on potions and-
"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted earnestly, "instead of yelling at us, why don't you give us a hand? I could use some-"

A loud crash rocked the library causing Madame Pince to squawk in dismay. The other students shrieked and Harry and Ron dove under the oak table, wands in hands, while Hermione scrabbled for her textbooks and parchment. In exasperation, Ron reached over the table and dragged Hermione under the table.

"What's going on?" Harry hissed as another crash sent the trio tumbling to the ground.

"I- I'm not sure!" Hermione said frantically, pulling her wand out.

Harry gently pushed aside some books that had fallen in front of the table and peered out into the library. Craning his neck uncomfortably, Harry spotted black robes and a bone white mask. Harry quickly pulled his head out of sight and crouched next to his friends, steadying himself as another blast sent more books tumbling around them.

"Deatheaters!" Harry whispered to his friends. "We've got to help the other students!"

"Right," Ron answered, his freckles standing out in his paling face. "Come on, we can go through here."

Ron led Harry and Hermione out under the table. Quietly, the three Gryffindors snuck behind the tables and into the Restricted Section, hiding among the tall rows of books. Harry took the lead, gesturing for Hermione and Ron to follow him up one of the steadier bookshelves (the one containing books on invisibility charms tended to be temperamental: read, disappear) and pulled himself onto the top of the shelf, toes gripping for the final holds to push himself out of the way of Ron who was helping Hermione find places to keep her feet.

Once all three were on the top of the bookshelf, Hermione coughing from the musty dust, Harry pointed to the Deatheaters who were spreading through the library kicking over tables and chairs and rounding up the students and Madame Pince to one side. Several students were sniffling and others had small wounds, but no one seemed seriously hurt. On the other side of the room there were shadowy figures pounding at the door, which seemed to be locked with some sort of binding charm.

"Alright," Ron whispered, ducking as a Deatheater chanced a glance upwards. "One of us needs to go open the door so that Dumbledore can get in. Then we can go help the rest of the students."

"Good idea," Harry murmured, "I'll go open the doors. You two cover me from up here."

Before either of them could stop him, Harry slipped down the other side of the bookshelf and scampered towards around the back of the bookshelves until he reached the other side of the side. Diving to the floor, Harry crawled in back of an upturned table just as a Deatheater walked past, squinting suspicious at the shelves. Harry crept past him and darted between tables and chairs until he finally began nearing the library door.

Readying his wand, Harry prepared to jump up and shout Alohomora, but suddenly, Hermione shrieked and another crash shook the library. Harry looked back and realized that the Deatheaters must have discovered Ron and Hermione because their bookshelf had been toppled, books spewing out like lava. As they fell, the books seemed to take on a life of their own, not only carrying Ron and Hermione down to relative safety, but also aiming themselves at various Deatheaters.

Taking advantage of the sudden screams of Deatheaters and other general mayhem created by the rocketing books, Harry sprang towards the door, the unlocking charm on his lips when he was suddenly grabbed around the waist and thrown away. Harry landed with a hard bounce and swearing, jumped back to his feet to face the Deatheater in front of him.

However, instead of attacking him as Harry was tensed for, the Deatheater merely threw a square shaped object at him. Ducking the object so that it flew over his left shoulder, Harry pointed his wand past the Deatheater at the door. "Alo-"

The object crashed to the ground directly behind him and clanged to stop.
Immediately, soft vapors rose from the covered object and began wrapping themselves around Harry and the Deatheater in front of him. The Deatheater screamed loudly and tried to brush the tendrils away, which seemed silly to Harry because the tendrils were made of gas and couldn't be picked off like sand, but tendrils were also tightening themselves around Harry, making him sleepy and not the best judge of character.

Harry distantly heard, rather than felt himself finish, "-homora," and then he fell.

A long, long way.

To Be Continued...