Hogwarts: A Historical Game

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties. They are owned solely by J.K. Rowling.

Authors Note:

First and foremost I would like to give full credit and thanks to CuriousTooMuch (Av) for the amazing OC which this story will centre around. This story would not be written without her creative input. Additional thanks to her for agreeing to beta this story for consistency, accuracy, creativity and all the other lapses that I am prone to making.

For the purposes of this story I am setting what I think would be a realistic currency exchange rate, since there is no consistent information on the subject in canon sources.

1 Galleon: £100
1 Sickle: £6
1 Knut: £0.20

Martin Valier's Statistics

SPECIAL

Strength: 7
Perception: 8
Endurance: 4
Charisma: 3
Intelligence: 7
Agility: 9
Luck: 4

SKILLS

Alteration: 31
Athletics: 51
Barter: 15
Enchant: 32
Evocation: 37
Healing: 33
Knowledge: 30
Magical Theory: 32
Mind Arts: 34
Persuasion: 13
Physical Combat: 56
Research: 39
Stealth: 53

PERKS

Jack of All Skills: Magic

Martin was sitting in a comfortable chair; waiting for his sneering guide to return. His attention was focused on the words hovering in front of him.

LEVEL 2!

Congratulations.

SKILLS

Alteration: 31 +
Athletics: 51 +
Barter: 15 +
Enchant: 32 +
Evocation: 37 +
Healing: 33 +
Knowledge: 30 +
Magical Theory: 29 +
Mind Arts: 34 +
Persuasion: 13 +
Physical Combat: 56 +
Research: 39 +
Stealth: 53 +

Points to spend = 30

Martin had already decided that he wanted to place more points in Magical Theory and Knowledge. The other children from his current age would have had years of lessons and experience of the magical world and Martin would need to catch up soon if he was to play this ruse for any extended period of time. Having better magical control and better factual knowledge would definitely help him in achieving that goal.

At the same time, he also realised that he could not neglect the Barter skill. Even if the school provided him with a basic amount of money; Martin would still have to buy his sword and other defence equipment. He was pretty sure that the money provided by the school would not help him in buying any extra objects he may need. Not to mention, having money on his side would only help him; either for bribing people or for buying essentials. With this decided, Martin distributed the 30 points equally among his three chosen skills.

SKILLS

Alteration: 31
Athletics: 51
Barter: 25
Enchant: 32
Evocation: 37
Healing: 33
Knowledge: 40
Magical Theory: 42
Mind Arts: 34
Persuasion: 13
Physical Combat: 56
Research: 39
Stealth: 53

CONFIRM STATISTICS?

YES
NO

As soon as he had pressed 'Yes', the screen faded and he had to choose a perk again.

YOUR 1 PERK POINT CHOICES ARE...

A Fistful of Galleons

+ Your level (2) x 100 = you gain 200 Galleons.

Careful Calligraphy

You will have flawless handwriting and ability to decipher illegible scripts.

Sherlock Holmes

+5 Mind Arts and +5, Knowledge

I Can Fly!

You gain a Cleansweep 5, standard strength.

+5 to Athletics

YOUR 2 PERK POINT CHOICES ARE...

Potential Polyglot

Learn a language of your choosing in a single term

Intensive Training

+1 to any S.P.E.C.I.A.L stat

The mercenary summarized that the list was exactly the same; save for the 'A Fistful of Galleons' perk which now gave him 200 Galleons. Martin knew now; from a brief mention about costs of ingredients in the book about Potions, that Galleons were the Wizarding currency. Since he was going shopping, he would need money for any extra items; which meant that that perk was an obvious choice.

With one perk point left, he selected the Sherlock Holmes perk; mainly for the +5 to his knowledge skill.

SELECTED PERKS:

A Fistful of Galleons

Sherlock Holmes

CONFIRM PERKS?

YES

NO

Martin touched the 'Yes' option without a thought; he was getting better at this. Another notification appeared before him.

ITEMS GAINED:

+200 Galleons

Martin wondered briefly where the money he had just gained was being stored before shaking his head clear from such mundane thoughts and standing up.

Time had moved on while he had been distracted and there was only a quarter of an hour left until Flint returned. The books were returned to their respective shelves; 'Hogwarts: A History' still untouched.

Martin then stood to a side as he heard footprints coming his way. He steeled himself for the confrontation that was to come.

As expected, Flint was evidently an important person. He had an atmosphere of command and he appeared to be instructing the other students about what to do.

As more and more students entered the common room, Martin was aware of the fact that he was being evaluated; not warily but with calculating gazes. Within moments, Martin found that a rough circle of bodies had formed around him with Flint at the head of the group. Sitting down, Flint waved a hand at a chair opposite to the one he was seated in.

Showing no outer fear in spite of his growing trepidation, Martin sank down into the armchair's luxurious fabric and leant forwards; mimicking the older boy's pose. You never gave a glimpse of weakness at court; especially not when you were surrounded by people of unknown allegiances.

Flint made the first move.

"So… you're the new transfer student joining us from France, I hear." Flint paused for maximum effect. "Interesting how you never studied in Beauxbatons, though... "

Martin held in a frown. Beauxbatons was presumably a school, as far as Martin could make out but how did the boy in front of him know that Martin hadn't even been there? His unasked question was answered by Flint with a smirk. "I had my father check the records."

So they knew that his cover was a lie. It would only make him look foolish and undeniably suspicious in their eyes should he insist that the ruse was truthful. And no matter what, Martin knew that he could not reveal that he was a time traveller.

Martin compromised.

"That would be because I never attended Beauxbatons."

A quick rejoinder followed.

"So, what were you doing in France that brought you all the way to England to slay Dementors, Valier?"

There were many options Martin could take; without revealing anything compromising and after a moment's hesitation, he opted for what he thought was the safest one.

"I was in France on confidential business for my Lord."

Had he said something wrong?

A fair few people had paled and were whispering frantically among themselves.

"What kind of business could you do? You're only a few years older... and not even a pureblood. Certainly you're from a family of no consequence. My father has never heard of a Valier family so your lineage is half-blood at best. Therefore you are clearly unable to serve the Dark Lord in any capacity." Flint shot back immediately, though his face was filled with an expression of slight doubt.

That irritated Martin beyond reason. They could insult him as they wished; he was well aware of the shame that his being a mercenary brought upon his family. But to insult his lineage was to insult Hyacinth and he would never let her name be sullied. She suffered enough from his career; it was one of the reasons behind his journey to England as that way he would not tarnish her by association.

"I performed many tasks for my Lord, before he decided to dispose of me. But who is this Dark Lord you mention?" Martin answered carefully; trying to rein in his justified anger.

The faces took on a shocked look. An even more shocked look than before, which was saying something.

Another boy posed the next question. "Then you were not a Death Eater? You never served You-Know-Who?!"

Martin was now so confused that it was showing despite his skill at concealing his emotions.

"I do not know who… and I certainly was never a member of this order of the 'Death Eaters'. Was it a secret society for knights?"

Well, at least he was not the only one confused now. The other Slytherins looked equally befuddled at the moment.

"Then who was this Lord you served? Was he evil?" A tiny little girl asked. She could not have been any more than twelve years old.

Martin's surprise had only increased, many times over. "Yes, he was evil; he ordered the deaths of many men, women and children. He never let anything stop him in his quest for power and wealth. As for his likeness, that rendering is of him."

Martin then pointed at the newspaper cutting he had seen on the wall earlier; showing the face of Thomas Cromwell. A loud gasp swept the room, along with a doubled wave of whispers.

Then the door opened.

A man with long greasy hair and a hooked nose, wearing plain black robes entered; the man who featured in the picture that Martin had just pointed at.

*HPHPHP*

Severus Snape had had a bad day.

It had begun with finding a huge commotion just outside the Forbidden forest with a large group of students milling around an unknown and unconscious boy. He had handled Albus's secrecy and Minerva's sour attitude as she informed him of the suspicious boy being sorted into his house. All of these along with teaching incompetent Gryffindors had Severus in a less than peachy mood.

He was finally returning to the dungeons where he could relax. The Professor's mind was already making plans of what he would do when the students left for the summer. He was hoping to finish all those new Potion books he had brought from his last visit to Diagon Alley.

As he muttered the password to the Common Room, Severus braced himself to entertain the new student without asking any questions; as Minerva had told him to do. However, what he was not prepared for was for the boy named Martin Valier to point at him and immediately exclaim, "My Lord!" in horror and then faint.

He was then equally unprepared for the rest of his Slytherin students to stare at him in utter shock and something akin to… fear?

Before the Potions Professor could say a single word, Marcus Flint walked towards him; on shaking legs and seemly preparing himself for some extremely terrifying task. He opened his mouth but before he could speak a first year did.

"Professor, are you the next Dark Lord?"

Looking around at the deadly serious faces of the rest of his house, only one sentence came to mind of Severus Snape.

"What in Salazar's name has happened here?"

*HPHPHP*

For the third consecutive time during his presence in this school, Martin found himself waking up to the white-washed walls of the Infirmary. He was really starting to hate the place. Thankfully, though, this time there seemed to be no one about.

That wasn't the case for long. As soon as Martin positioned his body into a sitting pose, the door unbolted.

Martin was hoping it to be the Headmaster; he wanted the answers to some extremely troubling questions. However, his hopes were dashed as the door opened to reveal the cantankerous face of one Thomas Cromwell.

Martin's eyes widened; the man had somehow followed him through time, doubtlessly to finish his goal of achieving Martin's death. The black-haired man was currently unarmed; his wand was not in his hand.

One of his first lessons as a mercenary clearly stated that when dealing with a potential threat, the best method was always to neutralize it, before it becomes a threat.

It was with that in mind that Martin launched himself at the older man. He would not allow his former master to jeopardise his life, not again. And there were many ways to kill without needing a weapon, not as many naturally but Martin could make do with what he had, which was his bare hands.

A gleam of surprise flickered in the man's dark eyes and before Martin could realise the quick reflexes involved in the movement, the man's fingers twitched and his wand was in his hand. A large shield appeared, one that a person with Martin's current momentum stood no chance of avoiding.

The boy crashed into what looked like glass, for he knew no other transparent objects, but couldn't obviously be glass since it didn't even crack. Luckily, years of dodging targets helped Martin in reaching out his arms before him, so that his head wasn't hit. The mercenary slumped to the ground, trying not to let the pain in his sprained ankle show as a weakness.

Looking up in what he had mistakenly assumed was a subtle gesture, Martin found himself facing the angry gaze of his former master. While Cromwell's expression had been passive aggressive earlier, it now shone with pure fury.

Martin had thought about launching another attack when the man was closer and not able to cast one of those shields but before the mercenary could even utter a battle cry, he found himself dangling upside down by his ankle. To be more specific, dangling upside down by his sprained ankle. Martin almost bit his lip bloody to prevent the pained cry from escaping him.

Cromwell looked as if he might speak or possibly gloat when the door opened once again and Professor McGonagall entered the room. Martin watched as McGonagall's upside down face paled and she started shrieking abruptly.

"Severus, how could you?! You do not physically punish students! That is against the rules! Nothing the boy could have done would have deserved a hex like that..."

Cromwell; why was he being called Severus in this world, Martin thought in confusion; sneered widely before speaking in an ugly nasal voice. "Other than convincing entirety of the Slytherin House that I am the next 'Dark Lord', the boy just tried to kill me. If I read his movements correctly, he intended to snap my neck with his hands. Forgive me if I think that attempted murder deserves more than a single hex, Minerva!"

'I did no such thing!' was on the tip of Martin's tongue when two sharp gazes turned onto him.

The fourteen year old gulped. It was probably best to feign ignorance. In the royal court, it had always been one person's word against the other and Martin very well knew how little his word would have mattered, both in his time and here. Besides, magic probably had ways of detecting lies and if Cromwell was anything like he had assumed in the time Martin had known him, the man would be aware of all of them. Maybe he could distract them and get down at the same time.

He would wait then... until the right time... for his vengeance…

"Professor, I twisted my ankle when you cast that spell at me and being held up by it is pretty painful." Martin allowed all the pain to flood into his voice, making him seem childish and innocent. While the sentence was perfectly true and Martin was indeed gritting his teeth, he had fought with worse; a swollen ankle was a mere irritation. His two companions did not need to know that, though.

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes before waving her wand and Martin collided with the soft and lovely stone floor. Wait… Lovely...? Soft...? Was this floor even made of stone?!

Martin looked up, nursing his confusion, only to find that they had been joined by the headmaster at some point in the last few seconds.

"Martin." Dumbledore's voice was heavy with bemusement and something akin to pity. "I must tell you that Professor Snape is not your previous employer, Thomas Cromwell. I admit that the resemblance is uncanny but I have personally known Severus since he was a child. I remember him attending Hogwarts with no designs of being an evil lord." The Headmaster smiled pleasantly at his own joke.

Shite!

That all that Martin could think. He had seriously messed up, getting on the bad side of a man who was possibly a person of importance in his house. Martin's mind raced for ways to salvage the situation. The best thing that he could think of was to try and limit the damage: which meant apologizing.

Martin bowed clumsily, standing up as best as he could. "I deeply apologise for my reaction, Professor Snape. My grudge is against the man whom you resemble, not you in person. I beg forgiveness for my lack of foresight."

Before the Professor could reply, a screen popped up in front of Martin.

Charisma Check: 3/4

FAILED!

As the screen vanished, it became increasingly clear that his apology did not go down too well; most likely due to his low Charisma score. But how was Martin supposed to know of its importance?!

The Slytherin let out a huff. Nowhere in the magical world that he was stuck in was it ever mentioned that he would fail if he didn't have enough Charisma! And for that sake, what were these bloody checks all about?!

Martin returned his focus to his surroundings to realize that the man named Severus Snape was giving him a glare that resembled death, as was Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore's face was cheerfully worried, if such a thing was even possible.

"Hmm, it would be very bad to let this resentment flourish. Discord between a student and his head of house is never a positive sign, as I sure you are aware, Severus."

The room went completely silent for a couple of seconds as Dumbledore appeared deep in thought. Then his face brightened, eyes twinkling almost as if he had solved all of the problems in the world.

"I know just the perfect way to help you two bond. Severus, Martin is in need of a place to stay for the summer, somewhere where he can be taught the basics of magic before the next term starts. We won't find a more able master than you and it would also serve as an opportunity to get to know each other… and to forgive."

The last part of the headmaster's speech was almost drowned out as both Martin and Snape raised their voices in protest.

"You cannot be serious, Albus!"

"But- Headmaster…"

The mysteriously bright twinkling in the old man's eyes intensified as did the grin on his face. "See, even the suggestion has made you get along better. You are agreeing with each other already!"

Little did Dumbledore know that the two men in front of him were not only united in opinion but in thought as well. Both of their minds were going through several ways of causing harm to the other, some even being discarded as too nice.

Snape tried one more time to alleviate his sentence, his posture hopeless. "Headmaster... Do you really think that I am the most suitable candidate to babysit this boy?" Severus's lips curled around the word but he continued on. "I have many things to do; potions to brew, essays to check and even a visit scheduled to the Diagon Alley, for the procurement of some ingredients. So, you can see that I clearly do not have the time for such nuisance!"

Rather than replying, Dumbledore simply clapped his hands together in rejoice, looking mere seconds from breaking out in a dance. Before that could happen, Minerva sighed and exited the room while Severus raised his eyebrow.

"That is just perfect, Severus! Mister Valier needs to go to Diagon Alley too, in order to purchase his school supplies; so, you can go about your business and he can go about his." The Headmaster cast a spell under his breath. "Speaking of which, it's almost early morning. Since it's the last day of school, you can take the boy to Diagon Alley and miss your classes today, Severus. He will need all of the books for the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th year, robes, all of the standard equipment for Potions and a wand, of course."

By the time the Headmaster finished speaking, Snape looked positively livid. Martin thought it was probably because his plans for a peaceful summer had been thoroughly derailed but it might also have something to do with how Martin had attacked him earlier.

Severus Snape, knowing only one way to show his displeasure, responded in the standard Slytherin way: sarcasm.

"I suppose I should teach the boy the curriculum as well."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, ignoring the sarcasm or maybe, being immune to it. "Perfect!"

Martin just grinned; not visibly, he knew better than to antagonise the Professor more.

The man was definitely not Cromwell. Thomas Cromwell was a master of court politics and not only knew all of the rules; he had even added some new ones. One of these rules was that when dealing with King Henry VIII, or, in this world's equivalent Albus Dumbledore, never to use sarcasm. Sarcasm was never a good idea in these situations. It either got you punished for rudeness or you would be taken literally, both yielding results worse than the first.

Martin couldn't help pondering the nature of the Wizarding World's leaders, for there had to be some sort of authority outside of the school. So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he almost missed the Professor approaching and the screen appearing in front of him.

Perception Check: 8/6:

PASSED: +20XP!

By the time, the screen disappeared in thin air, Martin had discovered that he would get more of the experience that made him level up, if he passed these weird checks. He really should investigate that.

Before he could do exactly that, the Head of Slytherin House had taken hold of Martin's arm in a tight grip that almost bordered on too tight. But he had no time to protest as an uncomfortable feeling took over Martin's body.

It was like being... swung around in a sack? Not that he had ever experienced that but it seemed an appropriate comparison. Martin felt squeezed and out of control as his body jolted around.

Moments later, his arm was let go of as the two of them appeared in a crowded street.

Agility Check: 9/6:

PASSED: +30XP!

It took exceptional skill for Martin to not fall into the hovering words when he found himself on solid earth once more. Nonetheless he managed it, though it did delay his comprehension of the screen and the immediate surroundings.

The street was filled with both shops and stalls selling all manner of goods. From amulets to hats to pets to books... the Wizarding world was truly amazing and this place named Diagon Alley was but one part of the wonder. Martin watched in awe as people pushed past him, all lost in their own lives.

It was Professor Snape who brought back Martin's attention to why they were here in the first place. The man handed him a bag of the gold coins (Galleons, Martin remembered) that rattled loudly and a medium sized piece of parchment.

When the Cromwell look-alike had made sure that Martin had the necessary items required for them to start their shopping expedition, he started walking in brisk fast steps. Martin hurried to catch up, pausing at intervals to take in the various items littering each shop. Everything he saw was of an incredibly fine quality; even the cheapest robes on sale were far above the average class. That is not to say that they were on par with a courtiers clothes but they would not put a less wealthy merchant to shame.

A firm grip on his shoulder turned him round to face the Professor's annoyed expression. Apparently, Martin had become too engrossed in staring at his environment.

"Hurry up Valier; I do not have the time to waste on shopping for your supplies. There are 25 Galleons in that bag and I suggest you spend them wisely. If you spend the money on pointless things as I am sure you would, be aware that you will also be unable to buy everything on that list."

Martin nodded, his eyes flickering down the parchment, staring at the spidery words written with a bright green ink. He was pleased, though. If 25 Galleons were enough to buy him everything he needed, then the 200 Galleons he had gained from the perk would be just enough for anything extra he might want. Although, looking around, he couldn't see a blacksmith's shop or one which was selling weaponry. Martin had to admit that that was disappointing, if only a little.

Professor Snape was already striding off again, his robes billowing out behind him. Martin quickened his pace, catching his breath when the man came to a stop outside a shop named Ollivanders. The name seemed deceptive enough, however, it was the sub-heading that gave the former mercenary a pause. The shop proclaimed that they were makers of fine wands...

The irony wasn't lost on Martin. He had always seen magic as something evil and worth punishing for and now, he was going to get a wand; a wand he would have to learn to wield.

Since the thought of using magic was no longer quite so unnerving to Martin, he was able to rationalise getting a wand. After all, if the enemy comes up with a superior tactic that you have not thought of before and have no resistance against; you adapt to it, you learn from it and you copy from or improve it. The wand was a new weapon with a whole new set of tactics which set him at a distinct disadvantage. And it was this disadvantage that he was going to rectify as soon as possible.

Perception Check: 8/8:

PASSED +25XP!

He was still a bit vigilant, though and his wariness was palpable as they entered the shop.

The inside of the shop was dark but thanks to his hard drilled instincts, Martin was immediately able to pick out a shadow behind an overloaded shelf; a short but nonetheless human shadow. Martin moved his hands around, wondering if he should be on guard or not. "Hello…?"

When the shadow moved from behind the shelves, Martin tensed, only to come face to face with a wizened old man. For a moment, the former mercenary was thrown of balance. The person in front of him seemed even older than Albus Dumbledore and his eyes were fixed on Martin in an almost surreal manner.

"Mr. Valier, please do try not to attack Mr. Ollivander." A now familiarly irritating voice penetrated Martin's consciousness. "He is the best wand maker in Britain. In spite of my belief on the matter, I hope can control yourself for a short period of time."

Ollivander looked deeply intrigued, though, whether that was due to the Professor's glare towards Martin or his words to tell the boy not to attack, was questionable.

As Martin realized that neither of his companions would initiate a conversation and Mr. Ollivander seemed content with staring eerily at Martin, he cleared his throat.

The short man, as if only just realising he had customers, spoke up in a quiet and mysterious tone. "Ah! Welcome. Welcome. Severus, it's been a while. How is your wand? Willow, Tarantula Hair, 10 ¼ and quite rigid, if I am not mistaken." The professor gave a curt nod and the wandmaker's eyes shifted to the fourteen year old. "Are you foreign born, Mister Valier? You seem too old to be a first year, yet, I remember every wand I ever sold and of which none have ever been matched with you."

The cover story brewed by the Headmaster, thankfully, provided Martin with a readymade answer. "Yes, I am French."

It wasn't even a lie, either and although Martin had no qualms about telling falsehoods, he had always found that it was more believable if you let people draw their own incorrect conclusion from slightly misleading information.

"Well, that would explain that then. So what manner of wand are you seeking?"

Almost as if by magic, Ollivander's voice drowned out to be replaced by a more mechanical tone. A screen appeared in front of Martin, unsurprisingly.

Most Hogwarts students choose a compatible wand that is made in advance while others commission a custom made wand. Custom wands are generally a more exact match but they are also significantly higher in price. This is because they generally use rare ingredients that would be too costly to use in a pre-made wand.

The answer to Martin was obvious. If you were buying a weapon that could help differentiate you from your competition, you always bought the best one possible but he also knew better than to commission a wand without asking for the price. Such was the life he had led earlier.

"What is the price of a custom made wand with regards that of a compatible one?" He asked to the air around him, not knowing whether the screen would reply or not.

Immediately, new words hovered in the air and the mechanical voice began to speak again.

A compatible wand has a single price which ranges, on average, from 5-10 Galleons, and not higher than 15 Galleons. A custom wand has a flat fee of 5 Galleons for the wood crafting and preparation, the cost of the materials is added on to this. Material costs will vary greatly depending on what they are. The price is paid in full immediately before the crafting begins, so, at any time while picking out materials, you can change your mind, about cores, wood or the entire purchase.

So, the customised wand was definitely within Martin's range but now the question remained whether it would be wise to spend a large amount of his money on something that he didn't even know how to use and moreover had not mastered.

However, the doubt was brief and when the next screen appeared, Martin immediately made his selection.

Which wand type will you choose?

Custom
Compatible

Selected Wand Type: Custom?

YES
NO

And with that 'yes', Martin knew he had become a part of this magical world forever. It was now up to him how to live his second life and he swore to make it better than his first one.

Thank you for reading. As always constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as general feedback. Reviews are a major source of motivation. And I hope that you enjoyed reading chapter 4 of Hogwarts: A Historical Game!

Additional Note:

Apologies are provided for the delay in the chapter. It was due to some unforeseen circumstances and while I know that the excuse doesn't make it alright, I am grateful for all the readers who have decided to stick around. Without your support, it would have been almost impossible to put up another chapter.