#i got Barb's hat wrong so i drew the correct hat in the corner

[lonely-dog-draws]

drawing some friendly faces while in the Phantom Dimension

[writingfish]

Remembering Home

In which Severaas Strand remembers a past life and gets reluctantly gets involved with the Trio. 

This is a compilation of the au reincarnation snippets that have been written so far. Please let me know if you think I should put them on AO3. 

1

“No wonder the hat laughed when I said I wanted Gryffindor.”

Memory swirled in his mind, a deep pain threatening to drag him down into its depths.

I failed you, he thought. Oh, how I failed you.

“What,” three voices said and Severaas blinked.Memory whispered in his ear and he shoved it away. Now was not the time.

Potter and his friends looked between him and the petrified cat, opening their mouths to speak.

“Don’t worry, she’s only petrified. Its fixable.”

“I can’t believe we’re considering sticking a basilisk in the school,” Rowena snapped.

“At least it’s better than the dragon,” Helga muttered to Salazar as they watched their friends argue.

“There’s a basilisk in the school,” he whispered to himself, shoving the memory away. Later, he’d deal with it later.

“What,” the trio said and Severaas glanced around, stones warming at his feet.

“Never mind,” he said to them, grabbing Harry’s arm. “We can’t stay here. The feast will be over soon.”

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it as Severaas tugged at his arm.

“Come on,” he hissed and Harry’s eyes widened.

“How,” he began.

Severaas gritted his teeth.

“I’ll explain. I promise. But right now, we have to leave.”

He tugged harder on Harry’s arm and dragged him down the corridor and into an empty classroom. His friends hesitated in the doorway and Severaas groaned, grabbing the girl by the arm and tugging her in.

“Do you want answers or not?”

She scowled at him, but moved to stand beside Harry without protest. The redhead followed, opening his mouth to protest.

“Shhh, Ron,” the girl whispered and Severaas realized that he would have to remember their names if he was going to get involved. What a way to start the school year.

2

Severaas ran into Rowena just outside the library. They slammed together, going down in a tangle of black. He got to his feet first, holding out a hand and freezing.

“Rowena?”

She stared at him for a long moment before flinging herself at him. They went down in a tangle again. Thankfully the corridor was empty. Curfew had just ended and absolutely no student would be awake at such an hour.

“Salazar,” she gasped.

Blood dripped onto the rune in the middle of the circle, running down from his wrists. The wood of the door creaked as the pounding on its surface grew more intense. He muttered another word and the bottom half of the circle light up. The door splintered.

“You died,” Rowena was mumbling as the cold of the stone soaked into them both. “You died and we saw and I thought I was the only one who remembered!”

“Sorry,” Severaas said quietly. The pain was back, sinking its barbs into his lungs. The grief and hope of the memory still clouded his head and it took him a long time to realize that Rowena had gotten up and was holding out a hand.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it. He straightened out his robes and hesitated. He wasn’t due to meet Potter and the others until breakfast, so perhaps he could…

“Call me Ragna,” Rowena said, smiling at him. “That’s my name now.”

He smiled back, hope easing away the barbs. Maybe they could repair whatever had broken their relationship in the first place.

“Severaas,” he said, bowing. He only hoped that he could live up to his name.

3

In the present, Hogwart’s library was not the most welcoming place. In the past, there had been a steady whisper as students asked each other questions or read aloud from their textbooks. Now, under the cutting glare of Madam Pince, there was only the rustle of pages turning.

Severaas frowned at the book in front of him and made a sharp note on the piece of parchment by his right elbow. Ink splattered, obscuring most of what he had written. He growled and scratched it out. Hadn’t wizards ever heard of fountain pens? They were easy to use on both lined paper and parchment. His father loved them. He’d have to ask him to send some.

He made another note. In front of him, Potter shifted and opened his mouth, then closed it for the fifth time. Severaas sighed and looked up.

“Well?” he whispered.

Potter swallowed. “I want you to teach me Parseltongue.”

Severaas had to lean in close to hear him and Potter turned his head, glancing rapidly around.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me.”

Severaas shut the book with a quiet puff of dust and rose from the table.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re certainly not doing it here.”

4

“Longbottom,” Sevevaas said, gesturing to the empty seat next to him, “ you’re with me today.”

It was only after a smile from Granger, that Longbottom sat next to him. Severaas gave her a nod and turned to Longbottom, attempting to give him a smile. Longbottom paled and he frowned. It looked like Godric might have been right about his smiles scaring the students.

The lesson passed quietly. As usual, Snape had written the ingredients and the potion name, nothing else. How had that man not been fired yet? They were only second years. In Salazar’s previous life, it was only the seventh years who brewed potions without instructions.

“Err Severaas,” Longbottom said, stretching the a like taffy and nearly cutting off the s, “your spoon is sparking.”

One of the silver sparks jumped from the spoon handle and landed on Severaas’ robe. Quickly, he snuffed it out and then glanced around the room. Snape was correcting Seamus and Dean’s potion and hadn’t appeared to notice them.

“Apologies,” he said and made the requisite number of stirs before adding in the powdered bicorn horn.

“Are you alright,” Longbottom asked, nearly tipping in the diced porcupine quills.

“I’ll be fine” - Severaas moved his hand away - ”It needs to sit for a moment before we add the quills in.”

“Sorry,” Longbottom said, before tipping the quills in at Severaas’ nod.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go over the potion with you during our study session tonight.”

Longbottom blinked at him and Severaas grinned, the sharp smile that had sent chills down his father’s spine before his castle was razed to dust.

“I intend to help you pass Longbottom. You are going to show Snape that he cannot grind you into dust. That man is a terrible teacher and you are going to prove him wrong.”

Longbottom stared and for a moment Severaas thought he had lapsed into Parseltongue or Mercian, but Longbottom gave him a tentative smile. Well, it would be good to teach again.

5

Heike paused as Salazar walked into the kitchens. The steady sound of knives chopping onions behind her reminded her of where they were. Before, Salazar would never have been caught in the kitchens during the day.

“Salazar?”

She stepped forward, the eyes of the elves settling like bricks on her shoulders. Salazar flinched, glancing back at the door before stepping in.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Heike snorted. How long had he spent lurking near the kitchens or had he gotten one of the elves to tell him when she appeared? The kitchens weren’t the only place she could be found.

“Here I am,” she said. “What do you want?”

“We have to let their families know where they are. They’re family!”

Helga glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. Behind her one of the tapestries caught fire.

“That won’t matter to them,” Salazar said. “They’ll kill anyone who they think has magic!”

Heike shoved it away. She didn’t want to remember that now. That argument had only lead to their family breaking apart.

Salazar swallowed, then reached for his wand. Heike tensed, half-drawing her own out of her sleeve. His wand was whitish-brown, so different than the snakeskin patterned one he had last.

He took at step forward, wand pointing towards the floor. She drew her own out fully, pointing it at him.

“Stay back”

He ignored her, raising his wand and setting it upon a nearby counter. The knife, still chopping the onions, nearly sliced his fingers. He turned to face her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, letting her see the weariness that had sunken into his soul. “I wanted to let you know.”

He turned to leave, wand still on the counter.

“I’ll leave then,” Salazar snapped, turning his back on them and striding towards the open doors.

“Good,” Godric said, sword half-drawn. “Don’t come back”

“Godric, no,” Helga whispered, grabbing his arm. “You can’t-”

“It’s already done, Helga,” Godric snapped, yanking his arm away from her grasp. “If he wants to join his father, so be it.”

“Wait,” Rowena yelled, tripping over her robes before picking the up and running. Salazar hesitated, turning to look at them. Godric glared at him.

“We won’t have a dark lord in this castle.”

Helga never wanted to see that look on Salazar’s face again. Rowena reached out to grasp his arm, but he stepped back, through the doorway.

“Goodbye,” he said, turning his back on them again. He didn’t look back as he made his way to the gates.

“No,” Heike snapped, practically running to yank him back, away from the door. “You’re not leaving, not again. I don’t care about the argument. You left us!”

“I came back,” he protested.

“Only to die!”

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly. Rowena should have been here; she was always better at talking Salazar into making promises.

“You’re never going to do that again. Promise me.”

He shook his head.

“I can’t. You know that.”

The hole that had been in her since she remembered widened. Would they be able to repair what they had?

She clenched her teeth, hissing out a breath before letting go and stepping back. She alone wouldn’t be able to break through Salazar’s stubbornness. She took a few breaths, sending calming smiles towards the house elves who were clustered together in a corner. The knives behind her never stopped their work.  

She took his wand from the counter and held it out.

“You nearly forgot this.”

She forced calmness into her voice and her posture.

“Helga, I -”

“Take it and go”

She turned her head, watching as a knife scraped cut onion into a large stove-pot.

He sighed, but took his wand and left. The chasm between them grew wider.