Written for the Quidditch League Forum — Training Camp

Team — Penzance Pegai (whether we win or lose, my teammates are amazing)

Main prompt — Write in a setting in where a democracy in being established

Prompts used — bold, decision, hardened

I wrote about Harry Potter accidently meeting someone that is closer to him that he knows right at the end of the Revolutionary War. Peggy Schuyler makes an appearance. She was one of the three Schuyler sisters. Her second oldest sister, Eliza, married Alexander Hamilton — one of the founding fathers. Since not much is said about Peggy in history, I decide to use tht to an advantage by bringing her closer to the wizarding community.

Drowning.

Harry Potter was drowning. His hands were grapsing upwards, straining against the pitch black darkness. His legs were sluggishly moving, slowly, slowly, and it was as if someone had tied a rope around his ankles, anchoring him back into the deep sea.

He hissed as his hand scraped against something that made his palm burst into pain

Harry gritted his teeth. More confused than ever.

Glass?

Then everything went black.

All Harry saw when he woke up was the soft flickering light of a candle dancing above him. Lighting patterns on the wall, making him a little nausesous. Murmuring of voices reached his ears, but it was useless to move at the moment to find out where he was. His heart pounded — where was Ginny? She had been with him... she was...

Where had they been before this mess?

He couldn't remember.

Calm down.

He wasn't dead yet, he reminded himself. That was good. It meant that whoever was speaking wasn't rapid stray Death Eater out for his blood. As soon as he rested and figured out where he was, then the sooner he could get himself and his wife back home. With that comforting thought in his mind, Harry closed his eyes and fell off into uneasy sleep.

...

When he woke up again, the sunlight was already lighting up the entire room. He lifted himself from the bed slowly to survey his surroundings. It was bare for a bedroom, the only interesting part of it being the desk in the corner overflowing with papers.

Harry lifted a hand to run a hand through his hair absently.

"Ah, you're awake."

He jumped and looked at the doorway where a petite middle-aged woman was watching him, holding her hands across her stomach in a demure posture. Harry couldn't help himself, but stare.

Not because she was a woman.

Her dress.

It was pretty... colonial — if he remembered correctly the lectures that Hermione used to give him and Ron when they enlightened her on the lack of education they had been through in terms of history.

Suddenly everything was dawned on him. The horrifying realization of what he had done.

Ginny. Ministry of Magic. Marriage. Ginny. Tripped. Broken. Last Time-Turner.

Last

Time

Turner

Harry Potter took one look at his bandaged hand that had held the time-turner just moments before it broke — and fainted clear away in front of the surprised woman.

...

The third time he woke up, Harry managed to push the shock of time-traveling and the pain from the travel to the back of his mind where he never wanted to look at again. There was good news. Harry remembered that Ginny hadn't traveled back in time with him. They had both visited the Ministry of Magic together, but she had stayed in the entrance waiting while he had gone searching for someone to help them.

One of the wizards had startled him — who wears a hood in broad daylight at the Ministry of Magic if you weren't a stray Death Eater? — and Harry quickly tackled him while noting in the back of his mind the curiously familiar glass object in the wizard's hand.

The man had been a bloody Unspeakable.

He was stuck in the past. Harry buried his face in his hands. Grim fear settled in his heart again... didn't Hermione say they used to kill wizards a long time ago?

That neat little fact got him scrambling out of the bed, his resolve hardened, and started looking for his wand. Which he found laying on the bare dresser and once he grasped it in his hand, he felt a bit safer in this place.

"You're safe for now."

Harry spun around and the woman from earlier was eyeing his wand warily. He lowered his hand, feeling a bit foolish for scaring her. She didn't look like a threat. He managed to croak out a weak; "Where am I?"

The woman smiled at him. "You're at my family's plantation in Willow's Creek. My sister found you yesterday in our woods."

His throat was parched and he couldn't get another word out, but the woman seemed to be aware of this. She brought forward a cup of water which he took gratefully. After he sipped some, Harry asked hesitantly. "Who are you? Why are you helping me?"

"My father was Squib." Her brown eyes twinkled fondly. "My family tries to help wizards and witches whenever we can. This a horrid time for them to live in."

Well — that was certainly helpful. Harry stared at her in surprise. "Thank you for... helping me. I thought you might be... a Muggle and that would be difficult explain." He huffed out a short laugh.

She gave him an amused stare that made him pause. "What?"

"You're British?"

"Yeah..." He thought about it. This woman had a slight accent and he had never thought about it... but he had a British accent. That shouldn't be too surprising for a wizard to have a British accent even back in this time, or was it?

Not for the first time, he wished that Hermione had traveled back with him.

"We call them No-Maj down here." She explained, taking the cup and placing it on the desk. "You're in America, my friend."

Ameri ... ca?

That was impossible.

"Time turners... they... they don't change locations." He ran a hand through hair nervously. Or did they... Harry didn't know. "Well this is — " He bit his tongue, frustrated. "Messed up."

"It's not uncommon for time-turners to switch locations. Depending how how well they are handled." The woman nodded somberly. "Regardless, aye, it is indeed. What is your name?"

Oh... "Harry. Harry Potter."

There was no recognision or sign of shock, or even surprise in her warm hazel eyes and Harry found himself relaxing immediately. That was new to see.

"Harold?"

He made a face. "No... just call me Harry. You? Your name?"

She smiled slyly, "Maria. But... you may refer to me as Peggy. Peggy Schuyler."

Harry racked his brain to try and remember if that name meant anything to him, but his mind was blank and tired so he shook his head to try and clear it. A more important question cropped up and he asked. "How can I get home?"

Peggy smiled. "My brother-in-law knows quite a few famous wizards and he is trying to contact them for their advice. It'll be a few weeks before we get a reply."

Harry's heart sank.

"Your broth—"

"Alexander Hamilton."

Harry almost cursed out loud in surprise, but he caught himself in time. Now that name he had heard of before.

Her eyes were twinkling. "I suppose he is well-known in your time."

"Yeah." Harry wondered how much information was okay to reveal in this time period. He nodded anyway. "Yeah, you could say that." Never would he had guessed that some of the most important figure-heads in American history knew wizards, but it made sense... He mentally thanked Hermione for lecturing him on history back in third year.

"What year is it?" Harry grabbed the water cup again to sip while listening to Peggy's answer. It was in the late seventy-hundreds and the Revolutionary wat had just been won from Britain apparently. Being British himself, Harry hurriedly nodded along in agreement to her talk about war being won. While adding in a few bold comments such as; "Freedom and rights. Brillant stuff, yeah."

Peggy laughed and reach forward to take away the cup from his hands. "You ran out of water quite a while ago."

"Oh..." Harry flushed. It had been long time since he had been a situation with absolutely no other solution than to wait for an answer. And he could never deal well with those situations to begin with. Usually it was Ron that stood by him as a strong and steady presence to hold him up, or Hermione with undying amount of facts and intelligence to keep him steady.

Peggy reached to put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. "You aren't the first wizard I've met before. Don't fear, Harry Potter. We will get you home safety."

Harry nodded gratefully, "I'm surprised you are taking this more calmly than me." He leaned back slightly. "A strange man just shows up with magic at your family's place and you take me in..."

"I've seen stranger sights. My husband is an Unspeakable after all."

"You have Unspeakables in America?" He asked in surprise and she nodded briefly before changing the topic, looking disturbed, like she had just come to a difficult decision by herself.

"In fact... I dare say, you have a lot in common with my husband." The look of amusement never seemed to leave her face for more than a few moments appeared again and Harry wondered what was so amusing about the whole situation. The look she had seemed better suited to be on the face of George, or Ginny when they were feeling particularly mischievous.

"Why?"

Peggy tightened her grip on his shoulder before speaking in a soothing tone. "To be truthful, I gave you my maiden name when we introduced ourselves."

"Okay...?" Harry tilted his head curiously.

"My husband's name happens to be..." She hesitanted briefly, her hazel eyes flickering his and Harry could feel his breath hitch before she finished — as realization struck him. "Darian Potter. Believe me, your likeness to your great, great, great, grandfather is uncanny."

The world was tilting, the bed was spinning, and Peggy's face was blurring in his vision. His last thought before he fainted for the third time that evening was a simple sentence of heavy annoyance and pain.

I bloody hate Unspeakables.