Harry Potter 1. Prelude

If These Walls Could Talk

**If These Walls Could Talk**

Four archeologists scrambled through the hole. As they stood up, they went into shock. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. In the huge cavern - they knew, when digging a hole in the wall, that it was hollow, but never this! - there stood A Place. That's all that they could possibly name it. It was huge... it didn't seem possible that The Place could fit in the mountain they dug into. It was odd, how The Place was so huge. The first thing that caught the eye was the Castle, of course. A name etched into the arch of stone over the main doors read "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry". What the...?

The grounds were covered in a lush green grass, sloping up and down the small hills around the castle. There was a huge lake, over there, with a ship sitting anchored in it that looked as though it had come out of Peter Pan. The slight breeze, warm and smelling of spring, rustled the branches of the Redwood trees that surrounded three quarters of the castle. In fact, one of those quarters was behind them. And there was no hole that they had dug, but a small cabin, rustic looking, with a quaint little garden and a pasture that contained a barn. The barn was beautiful - just like the red ones that were seen in pictures of nineteenth century farms.

The castle though- the castle. It was terrifying and beautiful... luring. Drawing them in. It was made completely of stone, with gorgeous stained glass windows. There was a perimeter wall with the notches where lookouts stood at one time and slits where bowmen could shoot their deadly arrows from. The perimeter wall contained four towers, mighty and tall. It was hard to tell from where they stood, but it seemed as though the tower in the center, the tallest one, protected by the perimeter towers, rose out of a seperate building on the inside, with eight seperate corridors leading from the perimeter into the main, in an asterik shape, like the flag of England. One corridor from each of the towers, up high, and one corridor from the middle of each wall, down low.

Each archeologist went their seperate ways.


	2. Helga's Introduction

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**~Helga~**

One of the archeologists was redheaded, with long, curly tendrils that flew freely behind her. She had shocking blue eyes, the kind you never see except once in a hundred years, so crystaline and pure. Her skin was fair, with a splattering of soft freckles across her nose. Her body was willowy, long boned and slender. This pretty, innocent-looking young woman of twenty two years gasped. It was perfection, beautiful. Without a word to her comrades, Helga started moving toward the pasture.

The barn and silo, the white washed fenced in paddy, the little cabin... it fit. She had dremt of _a quiet life, tending her animals with a large family and loving husband. Oh, they were never rich, but they were happy. She loved having a house away from the castle, away from the students, and the hustle and bustle of others' lives. She didn't like being in the castle, because while that was where she worked - and she did so love her job - this is where she lived, was able to get away from it all._ She had dremt of all that, like she had really lived it. She massaged her temples, and proceeded on. It all seemed like a vague memory...

She entered the barn in wonder. It was so huge, like the cavern. And like The Place, the inside of the barn seemed impossible to fit if judging by outward appearances. The smell was rich with the sweet hay in the loft and the grain in the bins. But what shocked her were the animals. In their seperate pens were all sorts of creatures, creatures she had never seen the likes of before.

Instead of a horse, there was an animal with a horse's back quarters, a lion's front quarters, and a bird's head. Something in her mind whispered "hippogriff". What a name! Checking back outside to see if the gates were all closed in the pasture, she released the gate that held the hippogriff in the barn. She smiled as in ran about - and then realized it had wings. What if it flew away? But no sooner had she thought the question than had she shot it down, knowing somehow that if it did it would return.

Feeling satisfied, she turned to the other animals. There was an animal that somewhat resembled a pig. It had the head and tail, but was soft looking and furry. It might have been a cat's body, maybe, just a little bigger than normal. And come to speak of it, the pig's head and tail were just a little smaller. She, the Porcapurt, had several babies, all lined up, noses to her belly. Helga smiled, and got some fresh hay down for their bedding.

As she turned around, taking in all the different animals, she gasped. There was a life-size portrait hanging nest to the loft, and they were moving! She nearly screamed when they all turned into humans. Instead, she just fainted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Moony, is she alright?"

"Who is she?"

"She reminds me of Helga."

That woke her up. As she sat up, she realized she was sitting in the loft, in a bed of hay. It was very comfortable. As she glanced back over to the portrait, however, there was no one in it. They were all here, sitting around her. "My name is Helga." She stated.

"What?" They all were interested.

"I have to say, this is all very odd to me... what - sorry, that's rude of me - who, are you?"

"I am James Potter. Before you saw me as a stag, in the picture."

"Sirius Black, at your service. I am the adorable dog you couldn't take your eyes off of."

"My name is Peter Pettigrew. I was the rat."

"My friends call me Moony. My name is Remus Lupin, and I..."

"It's alright, I know." Helga said. "You're a warewolf."

"You aren't afraid?" Remus gasped.

Helga thought for a moment. "For some reason, no offense, no. I seem to know you... I seem to know everything here. Oh, this is a good dream."

The four looked at each other. "You aren't Helga _Hufflepuff_?"

"No, but my name is Helga. You all have more than one name... curious. I don't. I am Helga 4985362. I am an archeologist."

"The Prophecy!" The four all whispered excitedly among themselves. James cleared his throat. "There will be four, when all is finished, who will come to discover the past. They will come to A Place where magic never faltered, and will understand the Fault. They will, together, raise the magical world once again, beginning with those who began The Place of Knowlegde and Hope."

"There are four of us, here, in This Place. Where, may I ask, is Here?" Helga asked.

"We'll have to start from the beginning... she probably doesn't even understand what is going on around her."

Peter began. "This Place, this is Hogwarts. It is a school. To teach magical children how to use thier magic."

"Magic?"

"Um... Well, there has always been, or maybe used to be in your case, two worlds. One consisting of Muggles, one consisting of Magicals. Witches and Wizards. Not actually two seperate worlds, but the Muggles - non magical people - never really knew about the magicals. _Not until the end_." He said darkly.

"This is one of the many schools that taught the young witches and wizards. We were students here, in the 1960s."

"The 1960s! But... it's year 3140!"

"That makes sense." Sirius said.

James stared at him. "Sirius, what are you on? She's telling us that we've been dead a really long time..."

"No, it makes sense because Hogwarts was built in year 200. Take the year now, take off 200 years, and divide that by 2. That was our ending year, 1970."

They all looked guiltily away from one another. Peter whispered, "We were the ones who set it all in motion."

"What?" She asked.

They sighed. Remus said, "You have a lot to learn."


	3. Godric's Vision

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**~ Godric ~**

The second archeologist to leave the group was muscular and dark. He had black hair, but it was shaved due to the hard physical aspects of archeology. His eyes were brown, a rich happy tone, with flecks of gold. Of average height, head held high, he walked toward the castle.

The castle, for him, was the strongest of all the strange memories he was experiencing. As he reached the front doors, he took in a deep breath and softly touched the emblem which sealed the two doors together and firmly closed. As his fingertips brushed the lion, it glowed scarlet. But he wasn't afraid. It was... normal, somehow. The doors opened smoothly and silently, massive on their hinges.

His first step inside was awe striking. He was in a huge hallway with chandaliers made of crytal and diamonds and small tables lining the walls with different statues and pictures. The portraits which hung on the walls were odd, but he was so lost in his discovery he basically ignored them. The suits of armor's heads seemed to follow him where ever he moved.

He knew to walk straight down the hall, complete with plush hand woven rugging, to the set of stairs. He went up, climbing the cool marble stairs and looking at the roof - it was painted with all sorts of things: designs were most common, then fantastic beasts, and many angels. He climbed these stairs, up and up, not really minding the stares of the people in the portraits. He should have noticed these, and screamed perhaps, but he didn't. They were supposed to be there, he knew. This was all normal.

When he reached the top of the stairs, there was a trap door in the roof. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, but he brushed that all away. Hesitantly, he pushed his thumb into the latch. A staircase came down, and when he emerged at the final level, he was on top of one of the four outside towers. Ravenclaw Tower, he seemed to sense. The view was awesome, of all the grounds and the castle. He stood and drank in what he was seeing.

When he became tired of one view - which was after a very long time - he started to walk along the wall. He was fascinated by the chips in the stone where it was obvious arrows (or some stronger form of delivering death) had hit.

When he reached the second tower, he stopped. His breathing became faster and he had to sit down. A scene played out before his eyes.

> _The screaming was so loud it was almost unbearable... but really what disturbed him was the distress. His men moved all about him, from one post to the next, collecting arrows and other defense weapons. One came to give him a report. "Sir, we can't hold them. There are too many, and we haven't been able to get food in or the wounded out. You know that we need real food - conjuring only works for awhile. You know we need real hospitals - the nurse can't handle the injuries. Sir. Sir! We need to do something. Fighting won't work. Why can't we use magic?"_
> 
> _He responded tiredly. "It wouldn't be right, wouldn't be fair. And it makes no sense. The reason they hate us, are trying to kill us, is because of the magic. Because they are afraid. Afraid of what they don't know. If we used magic, yes we would win. But at what price?"_
> 
> _The soldier gave him one last dipairing look. "The men are talking mutiny, sir."_
> 
> _He sighed. Then that is the path that will be followed. "Mutiny, to use power that Muggles don't have just to save ourselves. The problem is, we are more --" His eyes bulged, and he looked toward his chest. There was the tip of a knife sticking out the front, above his heart. And blood was streaming as freely as his tears._

Godric snapped out of it. Following his suspicion, he ran. Ran back to the other tower, down the stairs, and to the hall he had first entered. He came to a stop in front of a suit of armor. There! There it was! In this particular suit, there was a hole, from the inside out, on the chest, right above the heart. The suit's hand came up and touched a finger to the spot.

Godric's eyes became huge and dialated. As the suit of armor's face mask flipped upwards, it was all he could do to take a step backwards and stare. A man was in there. He was tall and slenderly built, very wrikley, with a crooked nose and blue eyes that couldn't seem to focus. His beard, it could be imagined, was quite long - but it was tucked inside, hidden from view.

"Have you seen my spectacles?" Dumbledore asked.


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure, Mystery