Title: Gelosaþ in Écnesse
Chapter: 18 of 18
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Harry/Salazar, Harry/OFC
Warnings: OCs, OoC, original character death, minor cliché-age, homophobia, racist actions and slurs (from secondary character), time travel
Summary: Caught in the backlash of Voldemort's Killing Curse, Harry is thrown through time to a world so very different from his own.

A/N: Chapter the last. Finally. (Like, four years after I started this project. Which, given, is not my worst length of time in regards to finishing a fic, but screw it. XP)

-0-0-
Let Me See Your Fire
-0-0-

On the second of November, between Hagrid's return, the nightmare of curses being thrown at the Slytherin/Gryffindor quidditch match, and dealing with Mrs Weasley's reaction to finding out that all three of her youngest sons were in the Hospital Wing for the night, Harry didn't get much in the way of sleep. So it really shouldn't have surprised him when his attempt to keep himself awake to grade papers with a strong pot of tea in his office failed miserably.

"Harry," Salazar called from a distance.

Harry shook his head, wincing at the pull of his back. "Not gittin' up yet, Sal," he muttered.

Salazar sighed. "You're impossible. Come on, let's get you back to our room."

Familiar hands tried to push Harry up, but his back stretched in a painful way and he shoved the hands away with a hoarse shout. He tumbled out of his chair as consequence, banging his tailbone, and woke up enough to realise what was going on. "Horcrux," he breathed.

Salazar was standing over him, expression caught between concern and horror. "Here?" he demanded, his voice catching.

Harry nodded and carefully reached over his shoulder to touch his back, wincing as the old scars pulled. "Must be."

"Is it the snake?" Salazar asked as he came to kneel next to Harry, hands gentle as he pushed Harry's robe off his shoulders.

Harry frowned and leant forwards so his husband could pull up the back of his shirt and cast the muscle relaxing spell on his back. "I haven't the faint– Oh." He closed his eyes, recalling the Marauder's Map, which Albus had returned to him after he'd found it in Moody's things and realised what it was. "Slinky!"

The house-elf appeared next to him, face twisted with concern. "Master Harry has fallen?"

Harry shook his head. "Can you get the Marauder's Map off the table in the sitting room, please?"

"Slinky will!" Slinky agreed before vanishing.

"Good idea," Salazar decided as he got to his feet and held down a hand. "Here, stand up."

Harry let his husband pull him to his feet, wincing as his tailbone reminded him it was bruised. When Salazar immediately waved a spell at him to fix the problem, Harry rolled his eyes. Healers.

As soon as Slinky returned with the map, Harry activated it and spread it out over his desk. "Find Nagini," he ordered, tapping his wand against the parchment.

Nothing happened.

"The diadem, then," Salazar murmured, eyes tracing over the castle laid bare before them. "It'll have to be in one of the upper floors, if it's not bothering you at night."

"Slinky," Harry said to their house-elf, who had yet to leave, "ask the other house-elves if any of them have seen Rowena's diadem. It'll most likely be in a room that doesn't see much use, so one of the storage rooms, and on or above the second floor."

"Slinky will ask," she promised before popping away.

Salazar traced over the upper floors, his finger stopping over the blank portion of hallway that Harry knew the Room was in. "If I was going to hide a piece of my soul," Salazar murmured, "in a school full of curious students, this is where I would place it."

"Shit," Harry whispered, "you're right. If he'd found the Room, he would absolutely hide something in there, especially since basilisk venom is one of the few things that can destroy it, so he'd never chance leaving it in the Chamber. Mischief managed." He folded up the map as it blanked and shoved it into a pocket. "Gods, I feel like an idiot."

Salazar snorted and leant down to grab Harry's robe, then joined Harry in walking from the classroom. "Then we are both the fool, for I didn't think to check Hogwarts either, even after Albus mentioned his attachment to the building."

They traded resigned looks and continued up to the seventh floor.

Slinky and Dobby appeared when they reached the empty portion of hallway. "None of the house-elves knows of the tiara Masters be searching for," Slinky offered, ears drooping.

"We think we figured out where it is," Harry replied as Salazar started pacing. "Dobby, could you go tell Uncle we may have found the last one? He'll know what you mean by that," he promised when Dobby frowned. The house-elf nodded and popped away. "Slinky, we may need your expert finding skills in a minute, depending–"

"Finding skills necessary," Salazar agreed, tone resigned. "Gods forbid Hogwarts students actually take their things home with them."

Harry walked over to look into the room Salazar called up, and gaped in disbelief at the piles of things that filled the Room. "Gods. We're going to be searching until Yule."

Salazar snorted. "Optimistic, aren't you?" he complained before stepping into the Room to begin searching.

In the end, it only took them a Point me and about five minutes before they had their hands on the last horcrux that wasn't a living being. Godric's sword finished the deed, and Albus settled it on the shelf next to the Sorting Hat with a proud smile.

"Well done, my boys," he offered.

"Only Nagini left, then," Harry murmured, rubbing idly at his covered scar.

Salazar's expression tightened while Albus looked away.

None of them dared mention the unspoken truth hanging heavily between them.

-0-

On the first day of the winter holiday, Salazar received a letter stamped with the Slytherin House crest.

"He didn't," Harry breathed as his husband opened the letter, having already cast a couple of detection spells over it.

Salazar raised one eyebrow. "Oh, he did." He held the letter out for Harry to take. "He's requesting a little family gathering on Yule."

The letter was very to the point, and lacking any of the word games that Harry might have expected. 'Then again,' he thought as he tapped his mouth with the parchment, 'I expect he has no interest in misleading his mysterious cousin, especially given that Sal is married to a Dumbledore.'

Salazar let out a tired sigh. "I expect you'll be going in my place," he said, and while his voice was steady, there was a well of pain behind his light eyes.

Harry swallowed and nodded. "I expect so," he agreed quietly. "I should be able to lead him on long enough to kill Nagini, then reveal who I am. After that, anyone can kill him."

Salazar looked away. "I'll finish the year and update the wards," he offered.

'Then I'll join you,' hung in the air between them, unsaid, yet understood.

-0-

The portkey Voldemort had sent in response to Salazar's acceptance deposited him in a fine ballroom. Men and women in black cloaks, wearing white masks, stood behind him, blocking his access to the door, and Harry smiled grimly under the hood of his robe, even as he turned to face the man he'd come for, eyes seeking Nagini.

:So, you are the one who claims the blood of Slytherin,: Voldemort hissed across from him.

:Actually,: Harry replied as he caught sight of the snake he'd come to kill, :I'm his husband.: Then he pushed his hood back, revealing his uncovered scar. "Hello, Tom."

Voldemort's red eyes widened with disbelief, and his shock gave Harry the chance he needed to throw a dagger dipped in basilisk venom at Nagini – Salazar and Albus had agreed that they were better safe than sorry when it came to finishing off the snake.

And then Voldemort let out a roar of fury and turned his wand on Harry, who stood still for the inevitable. "Avada Kedavra!"

-0-

He opened his eyes to a world of white mist, completely naked save for his wedding ring. He stared down at it for a long moment, so unspeakably grateful that, if he was to pass on with only one thing, it was this physical connection to his husband. Like a string tied between them, leading Salazar home once he'd finally passed on.

There was a sound in the near distance, a sort of quiet thumping, like the struggle of a trapped animal.

Harry looked up, towards the sound, only to find that the mist had sort of...begun to take shape. Grass had formed beneath him, and great stone formations rose high above him; Stonehenge.

"Hello, Mummy."

Harry glanced over his shoulder and found Ramona and Merlin standing behind him, looking exactly as he remembered them from when they met him and Salazar at Stonehenge. "Well," he said a bit inanely, "this is awkward."

Ramona let out a loud peal of laughter, beautiful and reminding him so achingly of everything he'd left behind, he had to look away.

A robe was draped over his shoulders, and he glanced back up to find Merlin smiling sadly down at him. "Thanks," he whispered as he drew the robe more tightly around himself and let his friend help him to his feet. Inexplicably, the robe stretched so it fit his slightly larger build, and he raised his eyebrows at that even as he quickly slipped his arms through the sleeves and fastened it shut.

"Aw, Merlin, you're ruining all my fun," Ramona complained as she joined them. She pressed a light kiss to Harry's cheek and Harry turned to hug her, holding tight because he'd missed her. Missed her like he'd once so missed Hermione and Ron.

"Where's my hug, then?" Merlin complained, and Harry wasted no time in turning and pulling him into a hug, closing his eyes against the rise of tears.

It was only after he'd let go of Merlin and taken the chance to wipe his tears away that he saw the creature that had been thumping. It had the shape of a baby, but it was a far more wretched creature, left to flail in the shadow of one of the great pillars. "Is that–?" he started.

"Voldemort's horcrux?" Ramona suggested with a knowing smile. "The one that was in you?"

"We assume as much, yeah," Merlin offered, his nose crinkled with disgust as he eyed the creature.

Harry hummed and considered it for another moment before turning his attention to the familiar stones around them. "You know, of all the ways I've envisioned the afterlife over the years, this never even crossed my mind."

Ramona cleared her throat uncomfortably, but it was Merlin who offered, "Thing is, you're not, actually...dead."

Harry blinked at him. "Right," he managed, tone deadpan. "Because I'm actually capable of surviving the Killing Curse twice."

Ramona let out a helpless little giggle and covered her mouth. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that," she offered from behind her hand, the words somehow both muffled and perfectly clear.

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Right, of course it is. And I don't suppose either of you have any suppositions?"

Camp chairs had appeared in front of them when Harry opened his eyes to watch Ramona and Merlin silently communicating. He rolled his eyes at the two of them and settled himself in one of the chairs, content to wait them out.

"It's complicated," Ramona finally announced, "and based rather a lot on some information you don't have access to."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm not going anywhere any time soon, Ramona."

She sighed and dropped into the chair on his left, while Merlin took the chair on his right. "Voldemort made a promise to one of his Death Eaters, before he came after your family, that he wouldn't kill your mum. So when he faced her, he offered her the chance to get out of the way."

Harry nodded, still remembering, after all these years, hearing Voldemort giving his mother the chance to 'stand aside' before he'd killed her.

"Her sacrifice formed a protective magic over you, a sort of shield that rebounded the Killing Curse," Ramona continued. "Rebounded it twice now, even, though the second time it had the help of phoenix magic."

Harry's eyes widened, because he would never forget the way that golden net had turned green and crept towards him. Old protection magic born of his mother's sacrifice mixed with phoenix magic, taking him through time to Salazar Slytherin and, in a way, saving them both. "Gods," he whispered. His mother had been a marvel.

"When he went through that ritual," Merlin offered, sitting forward, face seeming almost to age before Harry's eyes, so he was the man in the portrait in Harry and Salazar's rooms, "he used your blood. He took some of your mum's protection into himself, stretched it between the two of you and showed the ritual on Litha where to send you back to. Your life is as tied to him, as his life was tied to your scar. While he's still alive, you cannot die."

"But now that you've visited the edges of the afterlife, now that you've separated from his horcrux," Ramona added quietly, eyes glancing over Harry's shoulder, to where the naked babe thrashed silently, "he can die. He can be killed, Harry."

Merlin took Harry's hand, tapping one finger against the ring he still wore. "Go home, Harry. Finish this and go home. I didn't bind you so you could make Salazar a widower after less than a year."

"We'll still be here when it's finally your time," Ramona added, and her smile was beautiful and heart wrenching. A lifetime away.

Harry reached out and took Ramona's hand with his free one, then squeezed both her and Merlin's hands. "Thank you," he whispered and they both smiled at him as they faded away into mist.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and thought, 'Salazar.'

-0-

He became aware, first, of the ache of his whole body. The throb of his chest, where the Killing Curse had struck, the unnatural stretch of his back – familiar after all the times it had reacted to the horcruxes – the tingle of his forehead, where his scar sat. The now one-way connection between himself and Voldemort.

"My Lord," someone was calling, their voice shaking. "My Lord."

Harry breathed silently out against the slick floor under his cheek. His wand was in his sheath, a twist of his wrist away from being in his hand, but his whole arm felt numb, held awkwardly under his body; even if he managed to draw his wand, he couldn't promise how well he would be able to cast.

"My Lord."

"That's enough," Voldemort hissed, and Harry heard the movement of robes just in front of him; Voldemort standing, he was certain.

His other hand was a second's twitch from holding another of his knives. Silver. His aim wasn't as good with his off-hand, but it should be enough, given the close range.

"My Lord, are you–"

"Enough!" Voldemort snarled, and Harry took a chance, peeked one eye open.

Voldemort was staring at him, his expression still twisted with his angry order. His eyes started to widen, terror flaring to life within them, and Harry knew he was out of time.

Years of practising throwing the same knives at black targets ringed in red, of forcing muscle memory, took over, and his knife was blooming from Voldemort's left eye before Harry even realised he was moving. A second to pull a knife from the sheath at the small of his back and two steps forward, rising as he moved, and he was close enough he could taste Voldemort's rancid breath.

He didn't waste any words, though he could think of plenty of things to say, simply slid his knife across the dying man's throat, and ducked the resulting spray of blood, having no interest in wearing any part of his life-long enemy, now he was rid of the stain of his soul.

He turned his wand on the gathered Death Eaters, his bloodied knife held against the throat of the one who'd been checking on Voldemort, and smiled. "I think," he said quietly as Voldemort's body crumbled to the ground next to him, "that this little theatre act is done. Don't you?"

"Harry Potter," someone breathed from the crowd.

Harry tilted his head forward in something akin to a nod. "In the flesh, as it were. Though, I must admit, I've found myself rather fond of Harry Dumbledore. Perhaps Uncle Albus will let me keep it." He glanced towards the Death Eater he was holding at knifepoint. "If you would join your fellows? I didn't, actually, come here intending to kill more that Voldemort today, but I'm willing to make an exception if someone wants to try me."

The Death Eater moved away, dropping his wand at Harry's feet as he went. Other Death Eaters tossed their wands forward and took off their masks, showing their surrender.

"There's no guarantee he's dead!" one Death Eater shouted. "He played us for a fool last time!"

Harry snorted. "Oh, he's dead, I promise you. I found out how he made himself immortal and negated it." He shoved the cooling body next to him with one foot, causing the knife still embedded in Voldemort's eye socket to clack unpleasantly against the ballroom floor. The nearest Death Eaters flinched back and Harry bit back a laugh. "Someone want to tell me whose house this is?"

A blond man stepped forward. "Malfoy Manor," he offered quietly, and Harry recognised Lucius Malfoy.

Harry tilted his head to one side. "That, actually, doesn't surprise me. Huh." He shrugged. "Right, then. You're going to floo the Ministry and have them send aurors, then floo Albus' office and tell him to come through. Once they're here, if you don't try running, I'll do everything in my power to keep your wife and son out of this." Because as much as he wanted to let Albus and Salazar know he wasn't dead, that it was done, he didn't need the Ministry questioning the validity of the truth this room showed, which they well-might, should Albus beat them there.

Lucius' eyes widened, then he gave a deep bow. "Thank you," he whispered, voice shaking, before he turned and hurried from the room.

Harry nodded to himself and motioned the remaining Death Eaters against the only wall without windows or the door into the rest of the manor, where he had a better chance of noticing if one of them tried to run for it.

They didn't have to wait long before the aurors arrived, disbelieving or horrified curses giving away their presence as they stepped into the ballroom and took in the sight. Harry glanced towards them, amused, and called, "If you ladies and gentlemen wouldn't mind, I'm getting tired of holding this lot at wand point."

Before anyone could react to that, a burst of blue fire appeared directly next to Harry and he found himself being pulled into Salazar's arms while Tanwen let out a victorious screech. Harry let his bloody knife hit the floor and wrapped his arms around his husband, breathing him in and feeling tears spring to his eyes. Relief and gratitude and the undeniable sense of home.

He'd survived. They'd both survived.

"Dammit, Harry," Salazar breathed against Harry's mouth before his lips sealed over Harry's, the kiss tasting of desperation and love.

"I'm okay," he whispered as they parted, cupping Salazar's face between his hands. "We're okay, Sal. He's gone. It's over."

"Merlin's sagging ball sack!" someone shouted from the doorway.

Salazar and Harry's eyes met and they both burst out laughing, clearly thinking of the Merlin they had known and how absolutely horrified he'd have been to know that wizards of the common era swore by mentioning his privates.

"It seems, Cornelius, that I must rephrase my claim of Voldemort's return," Albus said, sounding quite serene. "He was back, but he is now deceased. Well done, Harry."

Harry and Salazar carefully stepped apart, lacing their hands together as they did, and turned towards where Albus and Minister Cornelius Fudge stood near the door of the ballroom. Aurors were leading the Death Eaters out, likely to process them at the Ministry, and Harry recalled his promise to Lucius. "Did you get Lucius Malfoy already?" he asked of the nearest auror.

The man looked up, and Harry recognised one of the few Order members who had joined after his return, Kingsley Shacklebolt. "We got him, aye," he agreed.

Harry nodded. "His wife and son weren't involved in this. It's possible, even, that they had no idea Voldemort was in their home."

Kingsley's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "I'll pass that on," he promised before continuing out with his prisoner.

"I very much doubt they had no idea of his presence," Salazar murmured in Pictish.

Harry shrugged. "No, but I made a promise to try my best to keep them out of it."

Salazar nodded and nothing further was said on the matter.

"Mr Potter?" Fudge breathed as Harry and Salazar stopped before him and Albus.

Harry put on his friendliest smile and nodded. "Indeed. Last summer, at the end of the Tournament, Voldemort–" Fudge let out an undignified shriek and looked towards the body of said Dark Lord "–and I faced one another in a duel. One which, regretfully, I lost. Some rather inexplicable magic whisked me into the past, where Sal saved my life and I finished my schooling. Upon my return, Uncle Albus–" Fudge's gaze turned to Albus, realisation making his eyes widen "–and I agreed that I would be best served posing as his nephew and taking over the empty Defence position."

Fudge sort of stared between them for a moment before he very obviously gathered himself and cleared his throat. "And this?" he asked, motioning towards Voldemort's body.

"On account of his claim of relation, Voldemort–" a gasp this time; really, the man was pathetic "–invited Sal to a, how did he put it?"

"Family gathering," Salazar supplied drily.

Harry nodded. "Thank you. I came in Sal's place and surprised Voldemort–" okay, the noises were just getting ridiculous "–with a knife to the eye, then slit his throat. He's quite dead."

"And good riddance," Salazar muttered.

Fudge turned wide eyes to Salazar and burst out with, "Are you? Related to him?"

Albus coughed. "Cornelius, I don't think that's particularly important at this venture. We should pass the news on to the Prophet so those families who believed me can enjoy their Yule to the fullest."

"Oh, yes. Yes, that's quite true, yes. We'll have to bring in people to see to the body," Fudge started rambling, turning towards the door.

'Go,' Albus mouthed before offering Harry and Salazar a beaming smile.

"Our rooms, Tanwen," Salazar murmured as he pulled Harry close again, and they were immediately cloaked in blue fire and whisked away to Hogwarts, where they could celebrate the miracle of life in private.

-0-

While it was true that his cover was completely blown, the only people who Harry had really seen before the new term were his fellow professors and Hogwarts staff members, and the few Order members who had already known who he was. So when he stepped into the Great Hall for dinner the night everyone returned, running late because Peeves was an arse, he was completely unprepared for the hush that fell over the room. He hurried along the back of the staff table and slipped into his seat between Albus and Salazar.

And then, with all the force of a tidal wave, the students let out a roar of approval, almost all of them jumping to their feet and applauding him.

Harry moaned and sank down in his seat. "Gods, give me Voldemort any day," he muttered and Salazar chuckled next to him.

"You might as well say something, my boy," Albus told him, eyes twinkling madly.

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, then obediently stood and waited out the dying applause. He stared out over the sea of expectant grins for a long moment, wondering what the hell he was even supposed to say to them.

"Last year," he started slowly, speaking even as his mind continued to shape the words that came to him, "when Cedric and I touched the Cup in the middle of that wretched maze, neither of us knew it was a portkey. Neither of us knew it would lead to his death, or my getting lost in time." He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering that nightmare in the graveyard, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday, though the ache of losing a friend had faded under a hundred other people he'd had to leave behind.

"I spent eight years trying to get home," he continued, opening his eyes again, "because I couldn't stand the thought of no one knowing Voldemort was back. But, by the time I managed it, I found out you all already knew, but you refused to accept it." Eyes turned away from him, ashamed. "And that, well, honestly? I was a bit disappointed in everyone, but I couldn't just leave you to your demise. So Professor Salazar and I got together with Headmaster Dumbledore and we planned a way to deal with Voldemort before he could start a second war.

"Clearly," he continued, tone going dry, "it worked." A few people laughed, nervous and uncertain, as if they weren't sure if they were supposed to. "He's really gone this time, I promise. And I'm still your professor, though I expect I'm going to have to get used to answering to Professor Potter, now." The laughter was more honest that time, more like they got the joke.

Harry smiled at them and shook his head. "I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Sometimes, you're faced with the choice between hiding behind fear and facing the truth. And while you'll always be someone worth saving, only you can decide if you have the strength to step forward and save yourself." He took a moment to look over the silent room. "This school was founded to give you a place where you can learn everything possible to one day be the person who chooses to save them self, and I know every single one of you have that capacity within you, but it's up to you to prove yourself worthy of the trust those founders have in you."

He sat down and took a deep breath.

"With that, let's eat," Albus called and the tables filled with food.

Salazar's fingers slipped between Harry's and he looked up to find his husband smiling at him. "That," he whispered, "was perfect."

Harry grinned back and squeezed Salazar's hand. "Yeah, well, it only sounds good because they have no idea what ridiculous children you lot were," he whispered back.

Salazar put on an imperious expression and coolly stated. "I'm sure I've no idea what you mean."

Harry just laughed and turned to eat.

-0-

The first week of term was a little weird for everyone, the students struggling to fit their memories of fourteen-year-old Harry Potter, into the relatively easy-going man who had little tolerance for House rivalries that they knew as Harry Dumbledore. And that didn't even touch on the uncertainty of who Salazar was, as he'd continued the fiction that he was simply a relative of the great Salazar Slytherin, having no interest in revealing who he really was to anyone outside of Harry's closest friends and family.

Eventually, however, everything settled back down. Harry went back to being 'Professor Harry', rather than 'Professor Harry Potter', and those professors who'd had trouble wrapping their heads around the concept that they currently counted among their co-workers someone they'd considered a student a year ago, sorted themselves out. Best yet, in Harry's eyes, the Ministry stopped trying to get him to come in and give some sort of highly publicised speech about his defeat of Voldemort.

The Ministry also, come March, struck the Educational Decree giving them power over Hogwarts' teaching staff from record, bowing under the combined pressure of Harry and Albus' disapproval. Albus, likewise, bowed to Harry's disapproval by hiring a currently-living historian to replace Professor Binns, which resulted in a spike of interest in History of Magic.

Once term was over and all but a few students were off to London on the train, Harry and Salazar pulled the castle wards down. With the help of Albus, McGonagall, Flitwick, and – to her unending delight, which was the entire reason Salazar had asked for her – Hermione, they put new ones into place, stronger than before, without a thousand years of headmasters and headmistresses adding to them whenever some new ward they thought would be useful was created.

"Well, my boys," Albus said in his office as they stared out the window at the glimmer of new wards, two phoenixes singing harmony behind them, "we didn't do badly, for only one year."

Harry burst out laughing while Salazar just rolled his eyes.

As years went, it wasn't a horrible way to end it.

-0-

-0-

A/N: As it currently stands, I have no desire to continue with this universe. (That said, it'll be nice to have a second Harry/Salazar universe to write drabbles for next time someone requests one on tumblr. XD)
I know some people will believe there was room for more but, honestly, I'd got pretty much everything out of the way, save the final confrontation, and I don't believe in prolonging a fic I was already struggling with just so you lot could watch Umbridge get hers. So, deal.

Mmm... There wasn't a place for it in the fic, but I do have it in my notes that, when Harry and Salazar realised Harry'd lost the ability to speak and understand Parseltongue, Salazar taught it to him with the language spell, proving that it was, in fact, possible to transfer it that way, despite what Salazar had led Rowena to believe.

~Bats ^.^x

..