WARNINGS: Heavy profanity use in this chapter.

The first thing to hit Harry was the smell. All burnt feathers, raw fish and rotting wood. Subconsciously, her hand came up to scrub at her nose, groaning at the smell. Only then, as the sound stalled, did she notice the hushed and rapidly speaking voices. Blinking like a new-born fawn taking its first glimpse at the world, Harry took in her surroundings from her sprawled form on the floor. Nets and strings dangled across the ceiling, knotted with charred bones and singed feathers, dead chickens, necks snapped grotesquely lining one wall.

There was a hole in the middle of the small, grey hut, likely a firepit by the ash still inside, half burned, yellow candles where stuck to the floor, dropping and caking the rickety floor in sticky wax. The lone window, the one Harry had been lain down under, was barred with thick reeds, making dramatic rectangle lighting splinter across the room in slices of contrary yellow. However, as Harry's neck craned to get a better look, wincing at the ache and confusion, did the people in the room begin to form faces when her vision cleared.

In the corner was the thing, ancient, bent, sitting on a barrel, draped in black and chanting as it threw carven bones onto a little table by its side, mmming and ahing at whatever it saw. It picked through the shiny pebbles and bones like a vulture did with meat from bone. In the other corner stood a pair. A woman, braided blonde, undeniably beautiful, holding the arm of a man nearly twice her size. The man was gruff looking, blonde too, head partially shaven with a fine beard descending his neck, the brown fur cloak he had perched over his shoulders making him look all the more like a bear than his grizzly appearance did.

There was a lone woman, tall and regal, glistening red hair blowing in the breeze from the open door, in which she stayed trapped between room and outside, hands folded in front of her and looking for all her worth like she was holding court. Her bejewelled dress and fine, willowy figure could point her out as pureblood, if she was a witch, that is. The last couple she knew, they stood by the fire pit, opposite Harry but on the wrong side of the pit, huddled and whispering to each other, throwing her glances every few seconds. Floki and Helga. However, it was the last inhabitant that caught and held her attention.

"Luna?"

She was a few feet in front of her, on her side of the fire pit, the only one brave enough to come so close, playing with the blue woolen dress she had changed into. Harry cut a glance down to herself and found her jeans and T-shirt gone, blood too, replaced by a long, thin shirt and a pair of baggy leather breeches, feet bare and toes tingling from the cold. Luna cast her a smile, eyes twinkling, shoulders lax and manner easy as she folded her legs and peered at a haggard Harry. Mother fucker looked right at home.

"Hey, Harry."

Harry sat up, wincing when the world span around her, rubbing at her temple as she glared at Luna. Hey? Hey?! There was so much she wanted to say to her, to ask her, to shout at her, and yet she found them all flooding away from her tongue. What the hell was going on? What was she thinking? No. Luna hadn't been thinking or she wouldn't have bloody thrown them both through a fucking portal! Still, no matter having been jumped by the woman, or wondering how long she'd been out of the count for, she was still worried for her friend, even if she didn't want to be.

"Hey Harry? That's all you've got? Where the hell have you been?"

Of course, her tone didn't exactly say worried, more of bellowed an on coming shit storm Harry was about to release on a cheery Luna. Then again, Harry had never been good at expressing her emotions. The last time someone had told her they loved her, Ginny, Harry had just hummed and then booted it from the room, dodging the girl until she got the hint. Not a classy way to let someone down, but it had done the job. Luna, though, seemed as if she understood perfectly and smiled brighter. The urge to punch her in the face only grew tenfold. Especially when her voice practically sang her next words.

"I fell through and into a stream, on the way back from their ritual, carrying you in a hay cart, they stumbled across me. I'm guessing it's where I 'died' before. I heard you dropped into hof ground, where you 'died' before? Interesting… It seems we appeared were we were taken from… Why are you frowning? Oh, hof is the word for their holy temples and land…"

Harry didn't like the way Luna emphasized the word died with a cheeky grin and quotation marks with her fingers. Harry stumbled as she stood, a bit shaky on her feet. Whatever uncle fester had done to her had not fully worn off, and surrounded by people she didn't know, those memories she could still recall not counting, made her irrevocably uncomfortable. No. There was no time to mull over hazy dreams or memories, she needed to get her head into the game. She reached for her wand on instinct and came up blank, frowning deeper when she patted herself and found no wand what-so-ever. She went to speak as she took a few steps forward but something invisible bounced her back a step.

Harry scowled, hand shaking as she reached out and prodded. Yes. There really was something there. Standing up now, she could see the floor and her scowl turned murderous. Intricate runes in a curving spirals decorated the floor in blood… Chicken likely, in a circle. A circle she was trapped in and just outside of the perimeters sat Luna bloody Lovegood smiling.

"A witch's seal? Luna… Let. Me. Out. Now."

It was archaic, witch's seals, used before the time of wards. Old hearth magic, replaced because witches seals dampened all magic used within said seal, where wards allowed the inhabitant to do what they wanted. Rumour had it they were still used in Azkaban cells to stop wandless magic, but Harry didn't know for sure. Because the things were so old and hardly ever used anymore, there was no known way to escape one without having an outsider destroy one of the runes. So, not only was she wandless, she was now also diminished in wandless magic in a foreign place. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"I can't do that Harry. I know what you're like. You're confused and angry, and when you're like this you fall back onto fighting and there's no one here to fight."

Harry would beg to differ. There was that old thing in the corner, these bastards in the room who, especially bear man, she remembered unsheathing their axes ready to lunge at her, and with the smile on Luna's face, Harry was going to add her to the list of people she needed to kick in the head.

"Really now? No one? Because I'm not fucking confused about waking up upon a dead fucking body with those bastards behind you readying their axes for my neck!"

Luna sighed dreamily, dusting her hands off on her knees before she stood.

"Harry-"

Oh, no. No way in hell was she going to let Luna cut her off. Not when all this was the blonde's fault in the first place.

"And I'm definitely not fucking confused about you luring me into a trap and then throwing me through a bloody portal!"

Luna gave her a sad smile when Harry angrily jabbed a finger in her direction, the witch's seal zapping her finger when it felt her anger. It only made her snarl and step threateningly closer to the edge, daring Luna to come closer.

"You don't understand what's happening-"

Harry's fists balled up at her sides, her back bending a little to look at Luna eye level. This close, Harry's lanky frame dwarfed the blonde, her shadow eating hers whole as she bared down upon her. Her curls, loose and tangled with amber leaves and brown twigs, slipped over her shoulder and engulfed her face in crimson flames, making her look crazed and half animal, mane alive and shadowing her keen eyes.

"Oh, I have a good bloody clue, thank you! Somehow, someway, you've decided to play god and jump us through realms or dimensions and put us into the body of dead people. Well, good bloody job Luna! Not only have you trapped us in medieval cannibal land, I'm now having fucking flashes of memories that are not mine and –"

It was the first time since she had met Luna that she saw actual anger seep out of the blonde. To be frank, it was a tad terrifying. Luna's eyes squinted, her jaw clenched, and her bright, shiny eyes grew dark and sharp, hooded by her heavy, pale brow. Her words were clipped, tone heavy and oppressive like a thunder cloud right above Harry's head.

"Listen to me!"

Harry refused to pull away from the edge of the circle she was trapped in, her pride refused that much, but her wrathful tongue did lull. When Luna saw she had Harry's attention and she wasn't going to interrupt the blonde again, Luna eased, her face flattening into that smile, as if the anger had never been there. The change was dizzying, as if Harry had all of a suddenly been plunked into a brightly lit room from a dank cell.

"We didn't jump dimensions. I haven't placed us in bodies not our own. Look at me! Do I have a face not my own?"

Harry gave her a searching look. There was the white hair, long and wavy. There was the spacey eyes, lost and unfocused half the time. There was that permanent up twist to the corners of her lips that forever made her look like she was day dreaming and right there, on one cheek, was the dimple she always had. Nope, it was definitely Luna… Radish earing and everything. Then what the hell was going on? She was Harriet bloody Potter, why was she having these 'memories' of Angrboða, of being Angrboða, if she hadn't been pushed into their body? Why did that name feel right? Luna spoke again, as if she knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

"You know the truth Angrboða. You just won't admit it."

No. If this wasn't some bleed over from her possessing a body… No. It was a trick. The 'memories' were fake. Harry knew who she was. Luna was playing some sick fucking game and Harry wanted no part in it. Snapping, Harry punch the invisible boarder that separated them, wishing her knuckles met flesh and bone rather than a stagnant force field that electrocuted her, though she did not show so through her anger taking over.

"Don't bloody call me that! My name is Harry!"

Luna smiled larger, cocking her head, hitting back.

"It may be now, but it hasn't always been so."

Harry huffed and pushed away from the edge of the circle, opening her arms wide, even when she wanted to pull her hair out at the roots from frustration.

"You never make any fucking sense! Just let me out or I swear to Merlin, I will fucking skin your face off and make that ginger one over there eat it. See how fucking regal she looks then with a bit of your bloody nose trapped between her teeth!"

Harry jerked her head in the direction of the red head woman, smiling as she did so. From the corner of her eye, she saw the woman's reaction. Her shoulders stiffened, her legs locked and the soft blush that she had been sporting from the chilly weather bleached white. If Harry wasn't so angry about being trapped, she would have started to question whether they could understand her. But no, that was impossible. Harry didn't know their language, dammit, she didn't even know what time or place she was in and she knew she was speaking English. However, Luna understood her and, of course, her own anger came flaring back to life, battering against Harry's own raging one.

"I'll let you out when you actually start listening!"

"I'll listen when you decide to speak some sense!"

Stale mate. Luna pulled away from her, balancing precariously on the edge of the fire pit, heels dangling over the edge, giving them both as much space as the small hut allowed them to. Whether it was from trying to tamper her own anger, or to get away from Harry's blistering stare and heat, Harry didn't know, she only felt more bitter that Luna obviously had the choice to move around and she didn't. Why did these fuckers trust Luna and not her? Granted, Harry had sent some of them flying and she doubted Luna had reacted the same to them as she had, but come the bloody hell on! There was six of them and one of her, sure she had magic on her side, but they had daggers and axes, never mind bear mans sheer size and obvious strength.

Harry hated feeling trapped, loathed it, detested it, and Luna knew that. The blonde was obviously trying to get into her head, and ruefully Harry would admit, it was working. Harry's heart began to stutter in a pounding rhythm, her breath becoming sharp, tilting jolts as she circled around her invisible cage, restless and prowling. Luna took pity on her darting eyes, or began to think of the repercussions of what would happen when Harry got out, because she would eventually, it was just a matter of time, and even Luna couldn't be optimistic enough not to know Harry wouldn't gun for her as soon as the seal broke.

"It's all about the blood Harry, it always has been."

"Here we go…"

Luna's voice was soft, serious, but still somehow managing to keep that feathery tone of etherealness. Harry would start by cutting that bloody tongue from her mouth. Rolling her eyes, Harry went to turn her back to Luna, non-verbally putting a stop to the conversation, but the blonde leapt into action. Storming around the firepit, she plucked up Floki and Helga's arms, unceremoniously dragged them over and then pushed them forward, towards Harry, just enough for her to get a good look at them from the little lighting Harry had but keeping them just far enough away from the seals edge. Of course, the seal wouldn't work on them, being muggle and all that jazz, but that didn't mean Harry wouldn't nab one if the option came up and use them as a hostage to get the fuck out of the seal. Shit, Luna knew her better than Harry had ever known.

"These are your parents. Your name is Angrboða and this is where we were born."

Harry's arms crossed over her chest, her hip cocking as her head tilted to the side, blinking wearily as she eyed Luna up and down. There was no need for further discussion, Luna had lost her mind. End of story. She was dealing with a whacked out baby seer.

"Have you hit your head? My parents were James and Lily Potter, I fucking visited their graves! I fought Voldemort and his deatheaters because of my parentage! Do you not see the bloody scar on my forehead? Do I need to show you the ones littering my body too, to jog your memory? You've lost your mind…"

Credit due to Helga and Floki, they didn't step away or back off, even if they didn't understand her words, her tone was as clear as a church bell ringing on a crisp Sunday morn. They were all treading on thin ice. Luna sighed and peered up at Harry from her lashes, face melancholic and pitiful, as if she was about to tell her she had a terminal illness. Something hot sank in her gut, twisting her abdomen painfully.

"No, you fought Voldemort and his followers because the real Harriet Potter died in the attack that killed Lily and James Potter. I fought the deatheaters because the real Luna died in the explosion that killed her mother."

Harry stormed the edge of the seal and pushed against the barrier, growling as the force grew in pushing her back. Red sparks began to crackle in the air, fizzling and sizzling in the coldness, bright and dangerous. Floki and Helga, seeing the magic right in front of them, grimaced but did not step away, especially as Harry's hands began to tingle, bleed and burn from pushing against the seal. Just as there was a tear appearing in the seal that kept her at bay, highlighted by the crackling red lightning, as Helga went to rush for her, worry marring her face horridly as blood began to trickle down her smoking hands and soak the sleeves of her shirt, held back by Floki, the pain became too much and Harry let out a war cry and fell back. Hissing and shaking her hands, little plumes of smoke rising from her blackened fingers, Harry began to yell.

"You've completely lost it, haven't you?! The last scraps of sanity you had are nothing but fucking dust in the wind!"

The world span, her burnt fingers curled and more blood seeped. However, the pain kept her in the present, away from those dreams or fake memories that had plagued her in the clearing, so she pressed her nails into the palm of her hand until pain zinged up her wrist and elbow. They weren't real. They couldn't be. She was Harriet Potter, she knew who she was! Luna saw her crumbling and brought Helga closer, keeping a safe arm around her elbow, shy of just a step away from the edge of Harry's prison.

"Look at her! Look at her and then look me in the eye and say you don't remember anything. That she is but a stranger."

No. She wouldn't look. Lies. Fucking lies. Still, Harry's teeth ground together, her jaw clenched and against what her mind was screaming at her to do, her eyes locked onto Helga's. Those memories in the clearing where still fresh, seeping and sore, like an open wound, and it felt like, as she pondered upon Helga's face, more were flooding in. She knew, back in the woodland hut, there was a doll crammed down near her old bed, made from hay and wool, lovingly stitched by her mother. It had been her favourite doll. It still had some stains on its face from when Angrboða had accidently shoved it into some dough and it had been baked into a loaf of bread.

She knew, somewhere near that woodland hut was a special tree. It drooped, branches spindly and viney, like ropes of leaves. Its shade was thick and the ground around it was dead, lifeless, but it was her favourite tree. It was where Floki had taught her to climb. They would sit at its trunk, ears pressed to the bark and her father would tell her to listen, hear the voice, see the roots and she could. She could hear them loud and clear and Odin, how they sang.

She knew there was a certain path in Kattegat, narrow and muddy in which she used to run down, laughing manically as she pulled along a little cart behind her, a small boy around her age sitting inside, both choking on laughter as they knocked people over in their hast to scramble down the winding path. It was always funny when the tall ones fell, they looked so undignified with their long limbs flailing. Oh, she fucking knew alright, she just didn't know how she bloody knew those things.

"I-… It isn't-…"

Harry hadn't realised she had spoke until Luna answered back.

"You can't, can you?"

Harry forced her eyes away from Helga, staring resolutely down at the wonky flooring. She was Harriet Potter… Wasn't she?

"Please, Luna… Start at the beginning."

Luna began to speak as if she was whittling off a recipe, all factual and no nonsense. It felt jarring with what she was actually saying. In that space, trapped, mind jumbled, nothing felt factual. Nothing felt real.

"Everything is how you remember. Lily and James Potter died in Godric's hollow on Allhallows eve in 1981, protecting Harriet Potter. Only, Harriet died too. Dumbledore knew the war couldn't be won without her, and he tried everything he could to stop it from happening. Only, nothing worked. Destiny had spoken, Harriet Potter would die that night. There was no changing that."

Harry shook her head violently, turning her gaze to the window, her side placed towards Luna and face hidden.

"But I'm Harriet Potter and I'm pretty sure I'm still alive."

Then, with six words, just six, Harry's world came crashing down upon her.

"He had a time turner Harry."

Just six words, used separately, they would have meant nothing. But together? They meant everything. Harry's head snapped back around so fast her neck twanged, eyes wide as she slowly shook her head, curls dancing.

"No… No! You are not saying what I think you're saying…"

Dumbledore had a time turner. A. Time. Turner. The fake memories… Not so fake. Her life… Not quite hers. Her destiny… Meant for someone else… Her pain… Not truly hers to feel… She felt sick. Twisted. She could taste blood. Luna carried on as if nothing was amiss.

"He tried everything. He kept replaying the day over, and over, and over. Nothing worked. Polyjuice potion, his own presence in the home, moving them, hiding Harriet, pre-emptive attack on Voldemort, deserting England with Harriet in toe… It all ended the same way. The death of a new born and the loss of the war. I think it drove him a bit mad."

She couldn't speak, she could barely get those two words out.

"Then… How?"

Luna's eyes rolled to the ceiling, dancing left and right as if she was seeing something no one else could. No doubt, she actually was.

"Harriet Potter needed to die, destiny needed its pound of Potter flesh, but it's all about the blood. Don't you see Harry? Fate needed a Potter to die, but they also needed one to live and fight. The Potter's where the last of their line, there were no cousins or distant relatives to take up the mantle… But there was a time turner…"

Clink. The pieces fell into place and Harry found herself finishing off what Luna had started.

"There had been no Potter left in that time, but there were ones previously… Dumbledore tracked the family ancestry…"

Luna's eyes darted back to her as a grin blossomed on her face. She took a step forward, toe threatening to cross the border of the seal, yet, she stalled herself just in time, dampening her excitement.

"Yes! He tracked it back to you! To Angrboða! To Floki's line, the first ancestors that started to display magic as we know it."

Harry scrubbed at her eyes and began to pace. Three steps right, sharp turn, three steps left, the span of her cage, sharp turn, repeat. It still didn't make sense…

"So, what? He time travelled, took their Angrboða, and what? Killed her off so the 'blood' would be paid? So it left me free to fight the war? Is that why I have these memories? I'm being haunted by a dead child?"

Luna began to freak, tapping at her temples harshly as she shook her head violently.

"No, no, no! Harriet needed to die, not Angrboða!"

She stopped the action to stare bottomlessly at Harry, voice muted and hushed.

"He came back, yes. But Angrboða was older, too old to be a new born and with the time turner he had, he could not travel any further back than he already had. It was amazing he made it this far back to begin with! A bit of de-aging potion fixed that problem and then it was just a small case of spelling a dead dear to resemble you for Helga and Floki to grieve over so there would be no questions. He took you back to the wizarding world, swapped Harriet with you on the night of the attack and the rest… Well, you know the rest."

No, Harry didn't. She didn't think she knew anything anymore. So, Harriet was born to die, so Dumbledore had tracked their… Hers… The real Harriet's ancestry back to her? Faked her death and brought her to the wizarding world, swapping children? She wasn't born to die that night, so when Voldemort attacked, she could have lived through it. Lily's sacrifice only cemented her survival… Only, Lily had likely thought she was sacrificing herself for her own child… Not one stolen and replaced… Her sacrifice meant nothing… She… Her and James… She was going to vomit.

"What happened to Harriet… The real one? And why did I not remember anything until I landed in that clearing? If this is fact, I should have kept my memories. De-aging potion doesn't strip your mind from you."

Harry, or was it Angrboða, stumbled, nearly falling to her knees as she spoke, unsteady and whirling. She managed to keep herself upright, not noticing Floki had went to steady her with a hand, but was evidently stopped by Luna. Harry swallowed reflexively, blinking rapidly as her mind was assaulted with more memories, so lost she nearly didn't hear Luna.

"Harriet died in an orphanage on the same night of the attack of fever. Don't grimace Harry. She was always meant to die. Some people just are. As for the memories, he destroyed some, you'll never get your full memories back. But others, the things you're beginning to remember? They were too deeply rooted to destroy, if he had of tried, he would have melted your mind to goop. That wouldn't be good for what he planned for you to accomplish, so, he locked them away. However, the process of accessing those memories again isn't a pleasant one, it's why you feel dizzy, why your nose is bleeding. Don't fight it or you'll damage your mind…"

Luna's words were scattered, overlapping, disjointed to Harry, but she did run her burnt fingers under her nose, pulling them away and saw the blood. It blended into the crimson already decorating her hands.

"But, I'm Harriet Potter-… I've always been-… I'm-…"

The world jolted, like two images not quite laying over one another, her hand turned to two, fuzzy and quaking. She was seeing double, she couldn't think straight, she couldn't breath… Was Luna still speaking? Did she speak? Where was she? Who was she?

"And you are… In a way. You lived what you have. But you are also Angrboða. These two are your parents. You were born here, like me. I'm Luna, but I'm also Siggy. Them, there, that's my father and grandmother."

Harry's eyes crunched shut tightly as she harshly wiped at them. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Don't fight. That's what Luna said, wasn't it? Don't fight, just breathe. After a few moments, the world stopped spinning, but her mind still felt like shattered glass digging into her conscious thought. Looking up, she could see Luna pointing to the blonde woman and bear man. Having attention brought to them, the bear man nodded once and the blonde woman gave Harry a bright smile, a lot like Luna's smile actually. Fuck? That was her grandmother? She barely looked old enough to have kids of her own. Talk about lucking out in the genetic gene pool. Wait, she shouldn't be focusing on that… Still… Luna… Why Luna?

"You… I understand, sort of, what he did to me if it meant winning the war, but why you too? Why do it to the both of us?"

Luna's face fell a little.

"I.. I actually don't know."

Bloody seers. Good at dictating other's futures, absolutely shite at forecasting and assessing their own.

"I do. I would have died without you or given up. I was planning on running, you know? Running and never looking back after Sirius died. You're the one who found me and gave me strength again. You're the one who amassed Dumbledore's army when the school was taken over and I was on the run. You're the one who taught me that death isn't the end. Without you, I would have failed. Either Dumbledore played with his time turner longer than what you know of, or he had always known. The war needed you as much as it needed me."

Luna gave a noncommittal shrug, as if being abducted from her own time and thrown into a war of their descendants meant it was just another Tuesday, and she was more focused on the shepherd's pie they were having for lunch than full scale time alteration.

"Perhaps. But, I suppose, we'll never really know."

Nonetheless, Luna may be happy to live on in the shady space of uncertainty, Harry certainly was not. If she were to believe all that Luna was telling her, she needed the answers. All of them.

"Speaking of, how did you know about all this? If Dumbledore fucked with my head, he must have with you too. Why am I remembering now and not before?"

Once again, there was that damned shrug.

"I'm good at divination. He tried to wipe my memories, but it was more poorly done with me than it was with you. It's hard to scrub away someone's past when they can see your future. I've dreamt this, you know? This exact conversation, and many more versions of it. It was easier for me to fit the pieces together-"

Harry cut her off. She couldn't help it. Ever since Sirius and the ministry of magic, Harry held an inherent distrust of prophetic notions and seer-hood. The last time she believed in a vision from the future, Sirius had died. Who would pay the price this time? She had quickly run out of friends to kill, and if all this was really just Luna confused, she had no family to kill off.

"What if you're wrong? Wrong about all this? Look at Trelawney, divination can't be trusted. We forge our own paths and-"

"You know I'm not wrong Harry."

Harry clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth in agitation, fingers clenching once more. Pain was good. Pain was real. That was something she needed in this fucked up world she had found herself in. Luna simply reached up and flicked a feather, watching it swing back and forth as she carried on.

"The reason you're remembering now is because he locked them away, but his death degraded that seal. You've been having these dreams for a while now, haven't you? You're minds strong. It would have broken through eventually. I just… Gave it a little nudge."

Then, like a dam breaking, all of Harry's worries and bittersweet anger at this whole situation brokered forth like a tsunami.

"Why bring us back? They thought we were dead. The war was over. We could have built a life in the wizarding world. We could have helped others. Aren't we messing up the future by being here? Are we creating a world where Voldemort wins?"

And, it is here, we find Harry's true reason for her weariness and dread. What if, by being here, Voldemort would resurrect? What if they changed time, somehow, and he achieved immortality? All that death, all that pain, all those sacrifices, nothing. None of it would mean a damn thing. All that Harry had been through would be invalid. She would have no reason. No point.

"We could have, yes. But would you have been happy? It wasn't our time Harry. It wasn't our land. It wasn't our people. It wasn't our family. That's what you've always wanted, isn't it? Family and home? I know I have."

Harry exploded, storming right back to the edge of the seal, snarling and yapping.

"But not for the price of letting Voldemort win! For damning innocent people! I don't care about Dumbledore. I don't give a flying fuck about the ministry. I couldn't care less about the Malfoys or the wizarding world… But Hermione, Ron, Neville? Their blood will be on our hands. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Dobby, Snape, their deaths would mean nothing! My death would mean nothing!"

Yet again, Harry's blow was met with equal measure and fire.

"We've damned no one! What is done, is done. You defeated Voldemort. That will not change. If I had of time travelled and killed Dumbledore before he could take us, perhaps Voldemort would have rose. But I didn't. I simply took us after the war had been won. Floki's cousin's, in a few generations, will birth the Potter line, Lagertha's own ones will seed the Lovegood's and what is to come will play out as it had before. Siggy and Angrboða will take the place of Harriet and Luna. I've only given Angrboða and Siggy a life they had been denied by a man who played people like they were chess pieces! A life we both deserve! Don't stand there and fucking lie to me about being happy in the wizarding world and-"

"We could have been happy in the wizarding world if you hadn't of decided to become Dumbledore and mess with people without their consent! If we had of tried, we could-"

Luna, Harry was coming to realize, was good at stopping people in their tracks with minimal words used.

"You would die."

Harry blinked once, head inching closer as if she had not heard correctly.

"What?"

Luna sagged like a dying sunflower, head drooping and petals falling.

"The Wizengamot doesn't like loose ends, especially remainders of a great war. Last night, if we had of stayed in the wizarding world, you would have been poisoned at the annual victory peace festival. It would have been a slow and painful death, one blamed on a loose deatheater, and used by the MoM to cement the peace they thought they earned. The great hero died for us, now we have to carry on with what they died for. They would have manipulated your image, who you were to fit their agenda, using your name as a rallying cry. People would have mourned, but by the years end, you would have been nothing but a face for martyrdom. A tragedy of justice to tell the younger generations to keep them in line. I too would have died, in my bed, suffocated with a choking spell because I would have witnessed your poisoning. The fact that were alive now means fate hasn't written our ending in stone like it had done the original Luna and Harriet. It means we're on the right path or last night, we would have died."

What was Harry meant to say to that? It was too much. All this, the ministry, Luna, memories, it was all too fucking much.

"You… You saw that?"

Luna nodded and picked at the sleeve of her dress.

"I saw many things, but all equalled death for you and me if we stayed."

Harry shook her head. No. Be that as it may, there was always more options. France. Bulgaria. The bloody artic, not time travel. Never time travel. Even if it was to come back to the time they had been taken from.

"There were still other places to go! Not here. Not with us playing ghosts! Think of what you're putting them through! Giving them hope that their children are alive, and alive we may be, but we are not as they remember! I was bloody willing to kill Floki in that clearing! They'll see that eventually and they'll come to loath us for it. We'll loath them too! So… Fix it. Say sorry and then send us back. You brought us here, you can reverse it!"

They could still fix this. No one needed to get hurt. Because they would. Merlin knows they would. Look at Harry's track record, everything she had ever loved, cared for, had died. They would too. It was how it went with Harry. She would get to know them, she would begin to care, perhaps love them, and then boom. Gone. All rotten flesh and jagged bone. It was her curse.

"There is no way back! The spell I used is a one-way journey! This is all you've ever wanted! A home! A family that will love you! Why are you so angry about this!? Why can't you be happy for once!?"

Of course, Luna wouldn't understand. No one ever did. She didn't distance herself, keep herself away, shy away from happiness because she wanted to, she did so because it protected those around her. Fate hated seeing her happy and bad times always came when she smiled.

Look at everything she had caused. Sirius, Dobby, Snape, Remus, Tonks, Fred, their deaths were on her hands. And so many more, some faceless, some children, Merlin, she was a walking plague. Why could no one ever see that? Sorrow was her life, death was her home and loneliness was her shelter. Happiness belonged to mad men and children, and unfortunately, she was neither.

"Because I don't deserve it!"

Once Harry had started, she couldn't stop, the words came before she could think of them clearly.

"Nothing ever good comes from happy things! Not in my life! I don't get to be happy! I'm Harry the martyr. I'm Harry the slayer. Dammit, I'm Harry the blood-soaked! Not Angrboða the daughter, or Angrboða the peaceful, or Angrboða the happy… Happiness is an illusion. It's those little seconds right before the axe behind your neck falls, or a loved one's smile right before they topple over, dead. It's the spider that's painted in jewels. It's the fucking sunbeam that blinds you! It's time for you to accept that and stop living up in the fucking clouds! Happiness makes me feel-"

"Trapped."

It wasn't Luna that had cut her off, emphasizing the lone word with a step forward. It had been Floki. There was no mistaking it. His voice was simultaneously gruff and high pitched, as if he was permanently holding back a peal of laughter. His accent was thick, pulling hard at the edges of his words, but it was English alright. He was speaking English… Or had she been speaking their language? It didn't matter… She understood him.

"You understand me?"

And like an idiot, she asked the obvious. Luna jutted herself into the conversation, smug smile littering her face. Right, tongue first, smile second, face last.

"I put a translation spell on us. I didn't think you would start threatening facial scalping and forced cannibalism right from the get go."

Floki, thankfully, seeing Harry gearing up to rage again, floated past Luna's interruption, garnering Harry's rapt attention right away.

"I understand you, not just your words, but that feeling. I told your mother the same thing when you were but a babe."

The implication of him saying your mother felt like acid being splashed into her eyes. So much so, that she recoiled at the word, like a python curling in on itself. So, they believed whatever Luna had told them when she was passed out? They believed what the two had been discussing while Harry had thought they were not understandable? How? Harry hardly believed it and she had grown up with magic. These people were muggle. Shouldn't they be trying to burn them at the stake? Gauge their eyes out? Sacrifice them to their god or gods? She was getting off track again. They understood her, she could speak to them. If Luna wasn't willing to see reason, she could make them see the light.

"Then you understand! You got out of the trap when I died! Or my fake death was put into place… Still, you freed yourself from it. So, do the same for me. Let me out and I'll walk away. You won't see me again and we can all pretend this never happened. Just bend down and scratch out one of the runes and we can all go back to our lives."

For a split moment, one glorious second as his eyes darted to one of the dried runes, she believed she had won. Freedom was imminent. She could pretend none of this never happened. She could be Harriet Potter again, simple Harry. Orphan Harry, with hardly any friends, no family and no complications. Yes, it would be a dull life, a bit miserable, but she could make it work. Misery loved company and Merlin knows it called on her long enough for Harry to become reliant on that feeling. She didn't feel right, like herself, if she didn't feel at least a little miserable. But then he shook his head and glanced back up at her and that hope was lost. Serves her fucking right. When did anything ever go her way? Yes, that faint knocking was misery banging on her bloody door.

"It wasn't a trap. Not the happiness. I know that now. I was my own trap. I refused to accept happiness because of my own insecurities. It's easy to shy away from happiness when you know the pain that comes with it when it is taken from you. If I could go back and live just one day with you and Helga on that beach, smiling, laughing, even if I had to live through another hundred of your deaths, I would do so."

Bargaining had not worked. Plan B then, scaring the holy spirit out of them until they set her free. Harry schooled her face, lurked closer to Floki, eyes darkening as she spoke with flat, apathetic tones.

"Do you want to die? Do you want móðir to?"

Harry didn't realize her slip up, not even when a sparkle set ablaze in the depths of Floki's own eyes. Instead, she carried on, whispering conspiratorially, as if letting him in on life's big mysteries.

"Because that is what is going to happen. Everyone around me dies. Horribly. You won't see it coming, but oh, it'll come. She'll go first, bloodily, screaming, and then the hatred will set in. You'll hate me alright, but in the end, it will take you too. Then it will spread in the village, like a plague, all those you love, all those you talk too, drop, drop, drop, drop. Dead!"

Harry matched the drop with a finger tap on her invisible bars, before slamming her fist against the see-through prison wall on the word dead, watching as it flared with red lightning. He flinched, but only momentarily. Instead of retreating like she had expected him to, he leant in close, nose nearly touching hers if it weren't for the seal she was trapped in, squarely looking deep into her eyes, unafraid. In fact, he looked like he knew exactly what she was doing, what she would do and what it would end in.

"If that is what the gods have instore for us, then so be it. But first, there will be a few days of laughter and beaches. I told you how much I would be willing to pay for that."

Harry growled and diverted attention to the quietest of the trio in front of her, the people in the back seemingly having decided not to interfere. When her gaze landed on Helga, the woman's eyes grew wide, as if she was a deer that had spotted the wolf about to lunge.

"Helga, please, fucking listen to me! I'm trying to protect you! You love him, don't you? Deeply? Then get him out of here. Turn your back and walk away. You can live a happy, full life! Together! Just bloody walk away!"

Wrong choice of words. It didn't scare her, it didn't make her run from the room, dragging Floki, no, it squared her shoulders and gave her strength. Merlin, what would it take to scare these people? Did she really have to skin Luna, because with the way she was feeling, she was all to happy to give that option a go.

Before anyone could speak, Helga crossed the border of the seal proudly. Harry flinched as the woman brought a hand up, expecting a hit, when all she gained was a soft palm on the cheek, forcing Harry to look at her dead on. Her smile was sad… So sad…

"It would neither be happy nor full without you in it."

Harry's eyes closed, and she took a moment, just one, to enjoy the hand upon her face, warm, gentle. Home… But it wasn't, she couldn't let it be. All Harry ever bought was destruction, sour and rancid, being Angrboða would not change that fact. They would die… They always did… She couldn't let them die because of her selfishness… Merlin, she wanted to believe, she wanted a home, a family, but not at the price of it being taken away… No… There was only one way then…

Harry opened her eyes and smiled, just as sad as Helga, as she reached up and laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. Her burnt, bloody hand stained the dress, tainting it, just like Harry would to them if she stayed.

"I'm sorry…"

Helga grew confused, the look on her face made Harry feel like a inferi, but that only lasted a second as Harry used her shoulder to turn her around, using her extra height against the woman as she curled one arm around her neck, bending her at the waist, placing her free hand over the side of Helga's head, over her ear, her neck balancing in the crux of her tightening arm. One twist and her neck would snap like a twig. She knew this would work, after all, she had used this exact way to kill Antonin Dolohov after she had tracked him down after the war. The bastard hadn't expected her to fight like a muggle and had not been prepared to fight against it. Cycles. Everything was swings and roundabouts. Slowly, she turned them both to face Floki.

"Let me out or I'll snap her neck."

He didn't move, Harry tightened her arm and pushed further on Helga's head, Helga, in turn, choked. He dropped at the noise, reaching for a rune. Good. No one had to get hurt. Just scratch it… Scratch it… Scratch it…

"Don't! Harry wouldn't do such a thing! She's playing you-"

To cut Luna off, she tightened her grip on Helga further, grimacing when she saw from the corner of her eye that her neck was turning blue. Let go… No… She couldn't. It was for their own good. They would die otherwise, Harry was like a disease, she knew that. If she stayed she would infect them, kill them… There was no other way.

"Oh, I wouldn't, would I? She's dead sooner or later with me around. Me doing this is just speeding up what is to come."

Floki touched a rune, thumb just about to scratch through the blood, when both Helga and Harry spoke up, although Helga's voice was garbled, rough, breathless.

"Do it! Let me out!"

"Don't! She won't hurt me!"

The red haired woman had pushed herself into the door frame, Luna was simply watching Harry, bear man had unhooked his axe, the blonde woman was holding him back and that thing was still playing with its little trinkets. Floki, well, he just looked up at Harry.

"No."

Harry breathed heavily through her flared nostrils, words bitten out through clenched teeth.

"What do you mean no? I'm choking her out! I'll snap her neck if you don't hurry the fuck up!"

The bastard grinned at her as he stood, his posture casual and relaxed.

"No. I won't. I failed you once, I won't do it again. You won't either. You may have my sardonic nature, but you have your mothers heart. Helga's heart. You wouldn't be threatening this otherwise. You're trying to protect us, you said so yourself. I do not know what you have lived through. I do not know your fears. But I do know your eyes, I know your heart as if it was my own. You see enemies everywhere, but there are none to be found. We are not your enemies. You are not the enemy. We are family. This is home."

Then he too stepped into the witch's seal and Harry's eyes darted around the room. Why weren't they attacking? Why weren't they yelling? Why weren't they angry? She was going to kill one of them! They should have attacked, they should have killed her already-… Oh. She was never going to kill Helga, she knew that now… She had been planning on angering them enough for them to attack her. Kamikaze's, hail Mary's and suicide missions where the only things Harry knew how to enact and play out now. Once again, she locked eyes with Floki.

"You don't remember us well, and the memories you have are hazy, that much Siggy has told me. But there is love and happiness there, I know that much. Feel it. Think upon it. We can have that again. Happiness is no trap. You are the trap, like I was. Let it go. Let it go and be happy with me, with your móðir… Let it go Angrboða."

Angrboða. That was her. She was Angrboða. She was Harriet too, she had lived with that name for so long for it not to be, but first, before the war and pain and blood, she had been Angrboða. She had a family. She had a home. She had that tree, beach and pathway. They were hers just as much as Godric's hallow, the room of requirement or the sky when she was on her broom. The two names, the two people, they weren't different entities, they were the same being. They were her. She didn't have to choose either or. She could be both… She was both. The war inside of her head settled to a reflective pond, the oncoming memories no longer burning her brain but feeling warm, soft, like being wrapped in a blanket after being in a snow storm.

Harry looked down at her arm, at the back of Helga's head, her mothers head, a mother she was choking, and her hand and arm violently shook. Oh Merlin, what was she doing? She'd hurt her… She wasn't… She wouldn't… Her arm slacked and she pulled away, backing up until her back thunked against the window, even then, she tried to push further away from the pair, from the room, from what she had done. Her voice cracked and splintered from the tears that cascaded down her face, chest quaking with sobs.

"I'm sorry… I wouldn't… Sorry… I didn't mean to-"

Her vision blurred from the tears, transforming everything to masses of colour. All apart from her hands, cradled at her chest, shaking fiercely, burnt and bleeding. The hands she had nearly killed her mother with. The sobs came harder and her knees gave out. Still, she pushed herself further into the wall. Helga dropped down in front of her and Harry cowered further away, seeing a flash of uncle Vernon on the back of her eyelids, expecting the blows to come. They never came, she was only pulled into a strong hug.

"Shhh, shhh, It's fine. You're fine. We're fine. Shhh, shhh."

Harry felt a bigger hand on her head, stroking her hair, as Floki joined them in the huddle. His voice enveloped them both as he brought them to his chest.

"You're home now."

Questions & Answers:

Where is Ivar?

There was a little sneak peak of him this chapter, but fear not, Ivar will make a full appearance in the next chapter! So, not a long wait now. P.S, I know in canon, Ivar and Angrboða were not the same age, I believe Angrboða is older? (It's been awhile since I've re-watched the seasons, so don't take my word for it) But hey, this is fanfic, I've fiddled with the ages a little XD.

What about all their belongings? Where are the Potter's things?

In short? Gone. They're back in the wizarding world. Harry was practically jumped by Luna, she had nothing on her but her wand, so everything is gone. Why have I done this? Well, Harry is going to have an edge over people to begin with, after all, she has magic while a majority of people she meets will not. Having the invisibility cloak, money from the vaults and all the other heirlooms would just make her over powered. Plus, I love a story where the protagonist has to suffer and adapt a little. It'd be a little boring if Harry had everything from the get go. Let's just say it's going to be a very bumpy ride for Harry adapting to Viking lifestyle, the era she finds herself in and the people she will be surrounded with.

Why did the seer knock her out when she was calming down?

This is the seer we're talking about, he just knows things. Plus, in no way, shape, or form was Harry calming down. She got a bit dazed by the on flood of memories she had believed not her own, and that stalled her for a moment, but that peace wouldn't have lasted long. Harry, even in the books, when faced with confusion or tough situations falls back into anger, and I've tried to keep that true in this fic. The seer simply knocked her out before she started raging again XD.

Is Angrboða Harry, and Luna Siggy Jr? Have they taken over their bodies?

Yes, Harry is Angrboða and Luna is Siggy Jr, and no, they haven't taken over their bodies. They are them. I hope this chapter explains that and how it came to be well enough. There's still some little questions and mysteries to find out, but I'm keeping those under wraps until it's time to face them in the fic 😉.

If anyone has any questions, don't hesitate to ask!

NEXT UPDATE: I have one more exam for this year at university, a lovely four hour one, next week on Thursday. So, there will be no update before then, as I'll be cramming as much as I can… Joy. Hence why, instead of chopping this monstrous 9k word chapter into parts, I've kept it together to hopefully tide everyone through and make up for the little wait that is about to happen. However, I do have half of next chapter prepped and ready to get back to after my exam, so the next chapter to this fic should be out next Saturday/Sunday. Monday at the very latest.

THANK YOU to all the reviewers! Followers! And those who favourited! I really do hope you guys are liking this so far.

Please drop a review if you have the time, they make me smile and keep me motivated .

~carelessdodger.