1899
"Are you ready, Eloise?" The Unspeakable in front of the casually clothed woman looked at her in concern. He was one of Eloise Mintumble's best friends - and like her, he worked in the Department of Mysteries, category Time-Travel.
"I am," she said. Of course, she was nervous, but they had quite a sound theory regarding time-travel into the past and also a device that would bring her back the moment she would use it.
"Do you have everything for documentation?" Her best friend asked.
"I do," she said.
"And the device to bring you back?"
She held out an odd looking device, like a miniature time-turner made out of clay.
"And you know how to -"
"I just have to break it, Charlus!" She replied while rolling her eyes. "Believe me, I won't forget."
"Good," her best friend said. "And don't you dare to forget!"
She rolled her eyes again.
"I won't, Charlus," she said amused. "I won't."
Her best friend nodded and took a deep breath.
She snorted at that.
"You look like it is you who's going back in time, not I," she commented amused. "Don't be so nervous, Charlus! Nothing will go wrong!"
Charlus shook his head.
"I still think that it's a risk you shouldn't take," he said. "Our theory is untested! There's so much that can go wrong!"
Eloise laughed.
"Don't be such a worrywart, Charlus!" She replied. "You've been against that experiment from the start and I know that you're just here because you didn't want me to have to work alone!"
Charlus' eyes narrowed at that.
"My Professor in Ancient Runes always told me that even if something can be done using runes, it doesn't mean that it should be done!" He replied darkly. "I think he's right, Eloise!"
She laughed at that.
"Professor Malfoire has always been far too cautious for his own good!" She replied amused. "Truly, you'd think that a man with his knowledge in ancient runes would use this knowledge to bring new discoveries into our world! Instead he's at Hogwarts, teaching!"
Charlus just shook his head.
"Someone has to teach and you can't say that Professor Malfoire can't do it!" He replied.
"Nevertheless, he's far too cautious!" She replied amused. "And now, let's get started! I'm ready to have a look at the world in the fifteen hundreds!"
Charlus just sighed at that.
"Alright," he gave in. "But if something goes wrong, please remember that I told you to be careful!"
"Yes, yes, worrywart," she replied amused and gestured to the other Unspeakables that surrounded them.
"Give me the time turner!"
The time-turner she was given had a lot more spinning devices attached to it, but all in all, it wasn't too different and too much bigger than the normal ones used for going back only hours. The only noticeable different was that a few of the spirals could be fixed to a specific date before someone started to spin the time-turner.
She fixed it to the twentieth of August, 1400.
"Alright, 1400 - here I come!" She said grinning.
Everyone else stepped back.
For a moment she looked at Charlus.
"I bring back some souvenirs!" She said laughing.
Then she sent her time-turner spinning.
The world blurred. For a moment she could see the people around her doing everything backwards, but then even these actions started to blur until everything she saw was colour.
A moment or two later, the motions around her stopped.
The world cleared and she fell to her knees before loosing consciousness.
1402
When Eloise woke up, a hand was resting on her forehead.
" Com es elha, mieus amicx?" A voice asked concerned. The voice was female and quite soft.
The answer was as incomprehensible as the first words, but unlike the first words they were spoken by a man.
Eloise groaned and then opened her eyes. She was lying on the ground in the shadows of a tree at the side of a clearing in the middle of hundreds of little daisies. A man was sitting next to her, one of his hands on her forehead, the other feeling her pulse at her wrist.
Next to him stood a female in an old-fashioned dress in a light green colour.
The man looked at her in concern.
He had black locks and oddly light green eyes and reminded her of her old ancient runes Professor somehow.
His face showed his concern.
" Bist thŏu heil , donzelh?" He asked her and she looked at him confused.
"I… I don't understand," she said.
It was then that she finally remembered what had happened and where she was. She had used the time-turner. She was in the year 1400 - if it had gone right, that is. But then, she knew that no one - neither witch nor muggle would wear such old fashioned clothing anymore, so she dared to think that it truly happened and that she went back in time.
And yet, she was a little bit confused that she couldn't understand the man and the woman in front of her. She had never anticipated that the language would have changed over time to the one she was speaking now.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," she repeated and the other woman - or girl, since Eloise guessed that she was about fifteen years old - looked confused at her companion, a boy of about seventeen.
He said something to the girl with a short smile before turning back to her and letting her go.
Then he closed his eyes, his brow furrowing.
"Could you," he started slowly and heavily accented. "Repeat… that?"
Eloise looked at the man in surprise.
"What language are you and the girl speaking?" She finally blurted out confused.
The man frowned again.
"English," he answered, half-amused, half-confused. "Or French, if you prefer."
She frowned.
"I don't understand a word you're saying," she said confused. "And I'm speaking English!"
At that, she saw amusement dancing in the eyes of the man.
"Believe me," he said slowly. "Current English sounds quite different."
"And yet you're here and talking to me in the English I know," she pointed out.
He laughed at that, and when the girl behind him said something with a frown on her face, he turned to her and said something else. Her eyebrows rose at that, then she stared at Eloise in confusion.
"What -?" Eloise started to ask, but the man answered before she could even formulate her question.
"My betrothed isn't quite that happy that I'm laughing with a female that isn't she," he replied amused. "She's quite young, still, and a little bit unsure about my affection."
Eloise frowned at that.
"Your betrothed?" She repeated not amused at all. "Isn't she a little bit young to be betrothed to anyone?"
The boy raised an eyebrow at that.
"This is 1402, Ma'am," he replied a little bit coolly. "In the mundane world she would have been married for a few years now."
Eloise frown deepened.
"Still," she said. "She's far too young -"
"The marriage won't be for another six years," he interrupted her. "Unlike in later times, you don't marry until both marriage partners are at least twenty-one years of age. Tell me, when do they marry in your time, Miss?"
Eloise eyes widened at that.
"W… what do you mean 'in my time'?" She stuttered.
The boy in front of her just raised an eyebrow.
"The clothing you're wearing is far too liberal for this time," he replied amused. "You're telling me, you're speaking English and yet the language you're speaking isn't the same that everyone else uses and you're outraged by a practice that has been like that for hundreds of years now."
Eloise looked at the man in front of her in surprise.
It was oddly logical when he pointed it out like that.
Still, she had to try and dissuade him nevertheless.
"You are speaking my English as well," she pointed out.
He laughed at that amused.
"No," he said. "Not your English. Just a form of English that's near enough to the one you're speaking that you're able to understand me without a lot of trouble. Guessing from that, I'd say you're from sometime in the twentieth century."
Her eyes widened at that.
"I am not," she said. "I'm from 1899."
He shrugged.
"Close enough for me," he replied.
She stared at him.
"How?" She asked. "How do you know that?"
"Like I said: your clothing, your language -"
"No!" She interrupted him. "How were you able to guess the time I'm from?"
The answer was an amused smile.
"That's not something I share with anyone," he replied.
That reminded her…
"I'm Eloise," she said. "Eloise Mintumble."
He raised an eyebrow at that, but replied anyway.
"Salvatio Malfoire," he said and she wondered if he was related to her ancient runes professor.
Maybe his ancestor?
She couldn't even ask him since she didn't think that the man in front of her would know the answer. But then, she could ask her professor when she returned to the future…
"Well, Miss Mintumble," he said and his choice of words reminded her again of her professor. "How did you end up here?"
Eloise frowned.
"I don't think that there're so much options that lead to me ending up in the past," she said and he inclined his head.
"Surely," he said. "But there are still some different ways to travel through time."
She looked at him in amusement.
"I don't think there are too many," she said. "You can't travel through time without any kind of preparation."
The answer was an amused look at her.
"There are still accidents," he replied. "There're enough accidents in every other part of magic - I don't think that time travel is an exception."
She rolled her eyes at him.
"It was planned," she huffed. "We set the timer for year 1400."
"It's 1402," Malfoire replied.
She frowned.
"We might have calculated some things wrongly," she said. "But all in all, the entire test succeeded. I travelled in time for years!"
The man in front of her shook his head in amusement, then he turned to his fiancée and said something to her. The girl frowned, but after some more words exchanged, she nodded.
"If you wish, I am willing to harbour you until you have learned the language and found your footing," he said.
Eloise frowned at that.
"I'm not staying for very long," she said. "I planned to stay a week and then return to the future."
At that, Malfoire's eyes darkened.
"It's something different to travel back in time than to travel forward," he said, but then he stopped and shook his head. "Anyway, you will need a place to stay. I am sure my parents won't mind if you stay with us for now. I'm quite sure we will be able to explain you as a distant relative from the country whose father her to experience London's high society or something like that."
She frowned at him, but in the end, she nodded. She would need a place to stay at least for the night. She wasn't quite sure what to think about the added part that made her a 'distant relative', but she guessed that she could live with it for now.
Salvatio didn't know what to think about the woman he found lying on the ground while he had been spending his afternoon with his betrothed.
Yes, he was betrothed.
He hadn't given in without resistance, but in the end, his parents had won.
"But I won't die for centuries!" He had protested. "I don't need to marry right now!"
"But we won't be there anymore in centuries," his mother replied. "We can't forego our duty for our child just because our child will live longer than most other children."
"But she will die long before I'm even going to find a grey hair in my hair!" Sal protested and his mother smothered down his black hair fondly.
"I know, mon petit fils," she said smiling sadly. "But it is our duty to ensure your future - and a good marriage is the only way to ensure your future. Your father and I wouldn't be able to look your birth-parents in the eye if we didn't ensure that you were married before we leave this world for the veil."
"Maman!" Sal protested. "There's no way that I'm able to have children! What should I tell my wife? She and maybe everyone will think that it's her fault! She will be an outcast in society - just because of me!"
"I'm quite sure your Oncle Nick will help you like he helped your father and me," she said. "The moment he's done with his new project that is." She rolled her eyes.
Salvatio sighed at that.
His Oncle Nick had been obsessed with making a Philosopher's stone since the incident that woke Sal's "inheritance" early.
He hadn't truly succeeded, yet, but he had found a way to at least slow down his and his wife's aging. Sal was sure that his Oncle would succeed soon, after all, the man had to if he was still alive in Sal's first year at Hogwarts.
"I'm not forcing a young girl into feeling unable to fulfil her role in life, Maman!" He objected his mother's words.
"I'll talk to her before writing out the contract," she promised. "She will go into this marriage knowing that it isn't her fault."
"Maman!" Sadly enough Sal knew that his mother wouldn't give up on her idea, no matter how much he pleaded and argued. Maybe he should have vanished without a trace when he still had the chance to do so…
Now, five years later, Sal was engaged for a few months already. His future wife knew that he wouldn't be able to give her children and had accepted her fate.
Sal didn't love the girl he was to marry in another six years, but he was sure that he could live with her. She on the other hand seemed to have a little crush on him. Sal guessed that it was her right to feel that way, so he didn't even try to rid her of her current feelings. It was after all a lot better than mutual hatred.
Still, it wasn't easy, especially since she clearly was a little bit jealous when they met Eloise Mintumble and he, unlike his betrothed, was able to understand her.
"Mieus amicx," his betrothed said in that moment. He looked down into her face. He had been guiding her and Eloise to the carriage that would bring his betrothed home and Eloise and him to his parents'.
" Donzelh Andromeda?" He asked.
She hesitated; then sighed.
"Why do we take her with us, mieus amicx ?" She asked concerned.
"Because she doesn't have anyone in this world and it is our duty as fellow sorcerers to ensure that she finds her place in a world that is foreign to her," he replied.
Andromeda, his betrothed, frowned.
"She's long since past childhood," she said darkly. "She should have long since learned her place in this world."
Sal smiled at that amused.
"She definitely has - in her own time," he replied, not interested in censoring himself.
At that, Andromeda looked at him in surprise.
"Her time?"
Sal inclined his head.
"I'd prefer if you don't tell that piece of knowledge to anyone," he said.
"If this isn't her time, how did she get here?" She asked confused.
"There are different ways to walk through time," Sal answered without hesitation. "However she got here, she will have to stay, and she will need a place to stay."
For a moment Andromeda looked at him frowning, but then she nodded.
"So you'll bring her to your parents to teach her?" She asked.
He inclined his head.
"It would be best if we don't spread her origin further than we have to," he replied. "She has to learn, but telling everybody her origin won't help her."
Andromeda frowned at that, thinking it over, but in the end she nodded.
"I won't tell anyone," she said and he smiled at her.
"Thank you, donzelh ."
He helped both women into the carriage and then nodded to their driver and guard that they were ready to return home. They went to Andromeda's home - a manor in the middle of London - first. He guided her into the house, greeted her parents and then said his good-byes for that day.
Then he returned to the carriage and they continued on to his parents' home in London.
"Is this what you truly want to do, Peverell?" The voice asked him softly.
Peverell closed his eyes.
"If I don't do it," he said. "Salvatio might break again. I have kept myself away, but since he found out about me, he has come and visited me far too often to not be affected by my death anymore."
"And yet he might still suffer the moment you breathe your last breath," the voice replied.
Peverell inclined his head tiredly.
"He might," he said. "But at least he will keep two more with him throughout the centuries. If I don't do it, he will lose me anyway in a year's time. He will lose me, then his parents, his uncle and his aunt. There's nothing he can do about it except of grieve our deaths. But if I do it, there will be two more he can go to, two more who will understand his pain and who will help him to overcome it. He won't try to kill himself if it means to leave someone who needs him alone to suffer."
"But they won't need him," the voice said softly.
"In his eyes, they will," Peverell replied. "They will be new to their immortal life. He will know that they will be forced to grieve for his parents like he will be forced to grieve for them. They will be forced to grieve for their children, children's children and friends. He has gone through all that before. He wouldn't let them suffer alone."
"So you have decided," the voice said.
"I have," Peverell said. "Will you fault me for my decision, master?"
The answer was the wind ruffling Peverell's hair.
"Never, my child," the voice replied warmly. "I have always known that Nicholas won't be one of mine for quite some time yet."
Again, wind ruffled Peverell's hair.
"Thank you, my child, I will have my balance for the next centuries - a balance who will do what he has to do without breaking apart by guilt and grieve."
"Then I won't regret my decision," Peverell said, closing his eyes again. "I won't regret my death when it means that Sal won't lose everyone he holds dear again."
Eloise wasn't sure what to think about Salvatio Malfoire.
The young man didn't ask her any questions about the future; he didn't even seem interested in her original time.
She watched him guide his betrothed to the door and after vanishing into the house for a few moments, returning to the carriage.
The rest of the drive was silent, until they stopped in front of another manor.
"My parents' home," he told her in his stilted English. "Let's go in there, donzelh . I will have to tell them who you are and why you are here."
"So you're telling them about my time-travel?" She asked frowning.
"It's the only way to ensure that they know why they have to be lenient with your actions and words. You're not from this time. This time is different and I don't plan to try to explain your mistakes away until you get a grip of the current culture, donzelh," he replied coolly before stepping out of the carriage and holding out a hand for her to take. She frowned at him but took the hand.
The rest of the evening was odd, in Eloise's opinion.
Salvatio Malfoire and his family were speaking French - well, at least Salvatio had told her that it was French, because it sure didn't sound like it - and Eloise was sitting next to them, understanding nearly nothing. It wasn't the family's fault. They had tried to include her by switching to Latin. Sadly enough, Eloise had never applied herself in her Latin studies and because of that only knew enough for her spells. It wasn't ideal at all.
In the end, the family talked with each other and Eloise was sitting by, listening to the odd language, noting down the differences in culture and language for her documentation - as far as she was able to catch those differences, that is - and listened to the family members' talk.
Sometimes Salvatio would turn around and talk to her, asking her a question or two, but all in all, she felt oddly isolated from those people around her.
Salvatio meanwhile had some other trouble to work though. He had told his family that the woman he brought home was from the future - but that brought another round of questions forward.
"How do you know that she's from the future, mon fils ?" His father asked. Sal sighed.
"It's her language and her bearing that made me guess at first. She confirmed it in the end," he replied truthfully.
"But how can you understand her when she's from the future, mon fils ?" His mother asked confused. At that, Sal grimaced.
"That's a long explanation," he said sighing. "Let's just say that it has something to do with my inheritance, alright, maman ? If I'd tell you the full version it would take days until I had it explained fully and even then I'm not sure if I'd told you everything - especially because I don't know the absolute answer to your question myself."
His parents looked at each other, then nodded.
"Alright, mon fils," his father said. "Now back to the topic: You can tell that she's from the future - and you're absolutely sure about that, aren't you?"
Sal inclined his head.
"I am, père," he said.
"So… will she return to her future soon or is she here for good?" His father asked.
Sal frowned at that.
"For her safety I hope she's here for good," he replied darkly. "Travelling to the future is just possible in one way: to live day for day until you reach the future again."
Sal's mother looked at him in surprise at that.
"You are sure about that?" She asked.
Sal hesitated, then he sighed and shook his head.
"There are other ways," he said. "There are always other ways - but just because you can theoretically do it doesn't mean that you should. There are dire consequences if you go against nature, maman ."
"So she will stay," his father concluded and then nodded. "I guess you will teach her our language?"
Sal inclined his head.
"Our language, our customs and our way of life," he replied sincerely.
His parents nodded at that.
"What will happen when we return to France next month?" Cathérine asked. "We're not here in London to stay, after all. We only came for your betrothal to Andromeda Black…"
"I guess she will have to choose," Sal replied truthfully. "Either she will come with us or we will find her a place to stay here in London."
"Or we stay until she's ready to move with us," Sal's father Henri said sighing. "Staying a little bit longer here in London won't be too much of a trouble, after all."
The answer was a smile from Cathérine. Sal just snorted.
"You just want to stay to have an eye on me and my betrothed," he said, half-amused, half-exasperated. "That's the same reason why you two are still here, months after my betrothal!"
The answer was an innocent smile from his mother.
"Oh, cheri !" She said. "Surely we aren't that curious!"
Sal rolled his eyes.
"Surely not, maman," he said amused. "Surely not!"
The rest of the evening they used to talk about and with the new inhabitant of their home. Eloise didn't seem too interested in joining the conversation. Instead of trying to learn their language - and Sal tried to get her start learning - she sat there and listened or wrote something down into a little booklet that she had been carrying with her.
"She's not even trying to start learning our language," Henri said frowning.
Sal sighed.
"I'll talk to her later," he promised. "I'll try to get her to understand."
And with that they started to talk about something else.
"Nicholas," Nicholas looked up from his cauldron.
At the door stood Peverell, looking at him with dark eyes.
"I see that you're still working on your concoction," he said frowning, looking at Nicholas' experiments all over the room.
"I will succeed," Nicholas said stubbornly. "I won't give up until I do!"
"And yet you haven't made any progress to gain a Philosopher's stone in years now," Peverell said, looking around the room darkly.
Nicholas returned the look of the other man stubbornly.
"I will succeed," he repeated icily. "I won't leave Salvatio all alone for years and years! He's my nephew and it was my fault that his childhood was cut short! He gave up his childhood in exchange for my life - so I will find a way to live until he's ready to be alone!"
"So you're quite positive that you will succeed," Peverell said sighing.
Nicholas shrugged.
"It doesn't matter what you think, I will succeed," he said coolly. "Whatever you say, I won't let my nephew face all those centuries all alone!"
For a moment, Peverell said nothing.
Then he sighed.
"You're a stubborn man, Nicholas," Peverell said tiredly. He shook his head. "Such a stubborn man."
Nicholas shrugged.
"If I give up I will never succeed," he replied. "It's either continuing or giving up - and I'm not ready to give up."
Peverell sighed again.
"As you wish," he said. "Show me what you've got."
Nicholas frowned but pulled out his nearly done potion.
"This is the one that's most likely to succeed if I can tweak it a little bit more," he said. "I'm already more than half way there. This potion has slowed down my and Perenelle's aging for a few years now, but I'm not yet fully done."
Peverell took the sheet and read through the recipe.
"There's only one thing that's missing in this brew," Peverell said. "Brew it; I will help you with it."
Nicholas frowned at that confused.
"Why do you plan to help me?" He asked him in confusion. "What's in it for you if I gain immortality?"
"Nothing and everything," Peverell replied. "I'm an old man, Nicholas. There's not a lot time left for me, and when I die, Salvatio will mourn me, like he will mourn all of you when you die. I made a mistake once and removed myself from his life. I nearly lost him because of my decision. Now I'm dying - and I will be damned to leave him all alone in the world for the next centuries to come!"
"I thought that he has the Professor Anastasius?" Nicholas said. "He seems to like him quite a lot."
"He has," Peverell said nodding. "But that doesn't change that as long as at least a few of us will stay alive for a little bit longer it will lessen his pain. You were the one who has sworn that you will stand by Salvatio's side until he doesn't need you anymore. I have never sworn that. I am far too old to stay, but I'm willing to ensure that Salvatio won't feel too alone when I'm gone."
Nicholas said nothing for a moment or two, then he sighed and inclined his head.
"So be it," he said. "Help me, Peverell."
Eloise liked living with the Malfoires.
She had been in the past for two days already and she loved every minute of it. Sal had shown her around the market of London, he had explained their life to her and she had dutifully taken notes, quite enamoured with her 'holiday' in the past.
Sal on the other hand wasn't happy with Eloise at all.
"You will have to at least try to learn the language," he told her sighing. "I won't be there for forever to translate."
"You won't have to," she replied. "I will return to the future in another three days."
Sal's frown just deepened at that.
" Donzelh Eloise," he said hesitatingly. "It isn't a good idea to try to return to the future."
At that, the young woman frowned at him.
"Don't worry," she said. "I have a way to return. The other Unspeakables made sure of it."
" Donzelh," Sal sighed. "Just because you can do something doesn't mean that you should. It won't do you and anybody else any good if you use that device you have to return to the future. It's too dangerous to do so. The -"
"Don't worry about it, Salvatio," she said and saw him frown even more. He didn't like being solely called by his first name. According to him, it simply wasn't done - but Eloise thought it far too ancient to call him something akin to 'Signeur Salvatio'. It sounded stuffy in her ears. "The other Unspeakables have tested the device quite thoroughly and the theory behind the time-travel is sound."
"I'm not sure what kind of theory you and your comrades used as a base but I don't think that it can be that sound if you look at it with Arithmancy and Runes," Sal replied darkly. "I dearly would like to see their calculations about the time-travel into the future…"
Eloise just rolled her eyes at that, then she clasped his shoulder.
"Don't worry 'bout it, little Sal," she said, using her age as an argument. "You're not even out of Hogwarts right now. You still have a lot to learn to even start to understand our work. I'm not even sure that you will ever be able to learn it, considering that there are centuries between our schooling and our knowledge."
"Some things don't change over time, Donzelh Eloise!" He objected.
"And some things do!" She replied amused. Then she saw some musicians and let go of his arm to go over and listen to them. He called for her, but she didn't even try to listen, far too exited and interested in all those things around her to even think about listening to her guide.
"How far are you?" Peverell asked when he entered Nicholas' lab again. The other man looked up from his cauldron.
"I'll have to add the dragon's blood next," he said. "Then I'll have to stir some and add the mint and the rest of my ingredients. After that it will have to simmer a bit before I can put out the flames."
Nicholas was tired.
He had brewed that particular batch of potion for three days now. He had been combining it with chanting and a lot of runic calculations, with charms and the influence of the moon. It was Alchemy he was doing - a potion based on the most powerful Alchemy Nicholas had ever done in his life. And yet, it hadn't been enough to create a true Philosopher's stone. He was missing something, something very important…
Nevertheless, Peverell had insisted that he brewed it even if he hadn't found the solution to his Philosopher's stone problem just yet.
"Good," Peverell said. "Add the blood and stir. Then let me take over for a bit."
Nicholas' eyebrows furrowed.
"Let you take over?" he repeated confused.
The other man inclined his head.
"I told you that I had the solution to your problem," he said. "I will take over and add what you've been missing until now to succeed."
"What I've been missing," Nicholas repeated before shaking his head confused. "What did I miss?"
"Add the blood and stir," the other man replied and Nicholas finally did what he was told, still confused by Peverell's words.
Peverell stood next to him, watching him stir and when Nicholas ended, he gently took the stirrer out of Nicholas' hands.
He put it aside, pulled out a dagger and then slit open his own wrist.
Nicholas' eyes widened, but before he could stop the Firbolg-born, the grim-born's blood already started to flow into the cauldron.
Peverell picked up the stirrer with his other hand and then started to stir again while chanting.
The blue colour of the potion darkened slowly to a purple.
"Add the mint," he said. "Then proceed as if I weren't there."
Nicholas looked at the other man a little bit unsurely. Then he sighed and nodded.
"Alright," he said. "I'll do what you want."
He took up his work again, trying to forget that there was someone else chanting along, while adding more blood to his cauldron.
Eloise's time was coming to an end.
Tomorrow would be her last day in the past, and somehow she regretted it a bit, but on the other hand she was looking forward to some of the comforts of her own time.
" Donzelh Eloise," she looked up, seeing Salvatio standing at the entrance of the library. She had retreated to the library to write down her new knowledge and it seemed like he had finally found her.
Salvatio was getting on her nerves. He was constantly trying to stop her to use her device to return home. Of course, Eloise didn't want to listen and he had begged off for the last hours, but it didn't change the fact that she was slowly getting angry with him for his constant meddling in her affairs.
"What do want from me now, Salvatio?" She asked exasperated.
He sighed as well.
"I guess we will have to talk - eye to eye," he said. "I guess I have to be a lot more open with you if I want you to understand me."
"If it's again about my going home, just leave it be," she said. "You are far too…"
"I am over two thousand years old, donzelh," he corrected her softly. "I have known about time travel and its possibilities for nearly as long. There's…"
She snorted, interrupting him with her amusement.
"You're barely seventeen, Salvatio," she corrected him amused. "Your parents told me childhood stories of you."
Salvatio just shrugged.
"My mind is over two thousand years old," he corrected himself sighing. "My parents haven't told you, but I'm a Firbolg-born."
Eloise frowned.
"What?"
His eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"A creature-born," he replied finally. "I'm not human. My parents may have raised me in this rebirth, but it doesn't change the fact that my mind is a lot older than my current appearance."
Eloise rolled her eyes.
"You look human, Salvatio," she said. "I have seen half-breeds. You can't tell me you're exactly like them."
He snorted.
"I'm not," he said. "I'm a fully born creature, not half-creature, half-human. Just because I look human in your eyes, doesn't mean I am, donzelh ."
Eloise rolled her eyes, not believing him at all, but deciding to humour him.
"So what, just because you're a creature you know it better than me?" She asked.
He shook his head.
"No," he replied. "But unlike you, I have been searching a way back into the future for far longer than wands exist in Britain -"
That got her attention.
" Back into the future?!" She repeated in disbelief.
He inclined his head.
"Why else do you think I understood you from the start?" He asked half-amused, half-exasperated. "I'm not exactly from your time, but I am from the future."
She raised an eyebrow at that.
"So, what's your original time?" She asked him finally, a little bit pensively, but still not believing him fully.
He hesitated.
"It's… a little bit further into the future than your original time," he finally said. "And I'm actually not too interested in sharing more than necessary with you, donzelh ."
"So why did you tell me at all when you don't want anyone to know?" She asked him, still sceptically.
"Because you mustn't return to the future like you're planning to!" He replied, concern etched into every line of his face. "I've been searching for centuries for a way back and -"
"And just because you found none, I should stay as well?" She asked coolly, still not believing him but at the same time outraged by his reasoning.
"No, donzelh," he said, and suddenly ice creped into his voice and his face darkened while his eyes got an ancient gleam to them. It suddenly wasn't too far of a thought that he actually was an ancient being anymore.
"I found a way home," he said, his voice ancient and grave. "It might have taken me nearly a thousand years to do so, but I found a way to calculate time. I found a way to travel back in time and I found a way to travel forward. But some things shouldn't be done. Some things just aren't natural to do -!"
"That's what you say," she said. "If you're truly from the future and found a way back into the future - why are you still here? I don't think it's too comfortable to live in the middle ages!"
He pressed his lips together at that.
"It isn't, donzelh," he said. "Compared to the future, living in the past is hard. Life has a different meaning here, living as a wizard or witch is a lot more dangerous. But I can't return to the future except the natural way - one day after another. I don't age, like you won't age when you stay, so you will see the future again, and I can't be killed like you won't be able to be killed as long as you are in the past… and maybe don't try to do it yourself."
The last part he added with a wince as if remembering something.
She frowned at him.
"So you want to tell me that you hate living in the past and that you know a way back into your future - yet you don't use it?" She asked him in disbelief.
His eyes narrowed.
"The calculations are off, Donzelh Eloise" he replied. "However you calculate your return to the future, however you put your runes - the backlash of travelling into the future will be enormous. It mustn't be done!"
Eloise snorted at that.
"You sound exactly like my Professor, Salvatio," she said. "'Runes can accomplish everything you can wish for!' He said. 'But that doesn't mean you should use them for it!' He might have been a good professor, but he had no imagination - exactly like you!"
"You're in the past, Donzelh Eloise," Salvatio said while shaking his head sighing. "The past is your current present. The future you come from doesn't exist right now, because it isn't needed for the current present to exist. In other words: your future doesn't exist, but when you still lived into the future, your present back then was built upon the past - this past. Meaning that you could travel back into the past, because from the time-lines perspective you already did. But you can't travel into the future, because from the current time-lines perspective the future doesn't exist yet. I don't even want to know what will happen if you do try to return to the future, donzelh ! For all I know, you could erase generations of humans with this act or -"
Eloise rolled her eyes.
"Don't be silly, Salvatio," she said. "If my going back in time was already part of the time-line, then my returning to the future should be it as well."
Salvatio sighed and closed his eyes tiredly.
"No, Donzelh Eloise," he said. "When you were in the future you could travel into the past, because the past was already set. The past had already happened, because without the past, your future wouldn't have existed. Meaning that sometimes in the past, in 1402, you already appeared and influenced the time-line to what you knew it would be."
"Exactly, and then I returned and -"
"You travelled back in time, donzelh," Salvatio continued, ignoring her. "And your present suddenly wasn't 1899 anymore, but 1402, meaning, you didn't influence time in any way before you appeared, meaning that you travelling back in time hadn't happened yet, and even if you were already in the past, having already travelled back in time, it was still a possibility that you wouldn't do it in the future…"
"But I already did -"
"From your perspective, yes, from the time-line's, no, donzelh," Salvatio interrupted her. "This -" He gestured around them. "- Is your present now. Not the future you come from. The future you come from hasn't happened yet - and you can't travel somewhere that hasn't happened yet. So, in other words, the only way to travel in time is backwards. Not forwards, never forwards."
Eloise rolled her eyes.
"Your theory is stupid," she said. "We Unspeakables already found a way to return to the future -"
"No, donzelh," the seemingly seventeen-year-old shook his head tiredly. "You found a way to erase you from the past again and keep you in stasis until you reappear in the future. You found a way to circumvent living through the whole history until the day you left, but you didn't find a way to travel onwards, because the future you long to return to doesn't exist yet."
Eloise snorted.
"It's still travelling to -"
"No, Donzelh Eloise," Salvatio said. "It isn't. It will put you outside of the time-line, outside of time. I don't know what effect it will have on you, but what I could find out through my calculations; it wasn't something I wanted to happen to me. There's also another fact I learned that you should think about before dismissing me, donzelh ."
Eloise rolled her eyes.
"What fact, Salvatio?" She asked exasperated.
"The time-line is counting on you, donzelh," he said. "I lived for millennia and everything I did, influenced the future I lived in. If I hadn't lived it, my future would have been a different, maybe even a darker one. Basically, even if 1402 is your present now, your 1899 was influenced by you living throughout the centuries. I don't want to know what will happen if you take yourself out of the calculation now that the current time-line has integrated you as a part of itself."
Eloise rolled her eyes again.
"Alright," she said amused. "I'll think about your theories, little Sal."
And with that she stood.
"Good night, child," she said. "Don't forget to keep on the lights to keep the monsters from appearing under your bed."
With that, she left and went to bed, dismissing his warning as the fear of a little boy who was far too young to understand the differences between their levels of knowledge.
Sal's gaze followed her leaving.
He frowned, his eyes dark with worry.
He knew that she hadn't believed him, but he also knew that even if he wanted to, he couldn't stop her. He had no idea what the device she planned to use looked like and he had no idea where to look for it. Warning her, telling her the truth had been his only chance. It seemed like he hadn't succeeded with it at all.
Nicholas stared at that potion in his cauldron. It had thickened and thickened even more over the last hours. Peverell's blood was still steadily flowing into the cauldron, but unlike at the start, it now had a golden ting to it and was filled with golden runes which danced through the cauldron before adding itself to the thick mass at its bottom.
The potion looked already a lot different than anything else Nicholas had managed to produce before.
"Peverell?" He asked, looking up to the deathly pale and shaking man next to him. "Are you -?"
"Don't worry 'bout me," Peverell said, his voice cracked, his lips dry. "Just add the last ingredient and stir."
Nicholas frowned, but nodded anyway before doing as Peverell said.
Then he closed his eyes and spoke his final chant.
When he opened his eyes again, the cauldron was bathed in golden light.
His eyes travelled to Peverell.
The old man smiled.
"It's done," he rasped. "Now promise me to look after Salvazsahar, will you?"
"Salva - what?" Nicholas asked confused.
"Salvatio," Peverell said. "Salvazsahar was his birth name. We always called him Sal, and I thought telling you that would be enough when I gave him to you. Now, promise me to look after him."
Nicholas frowned. He wanted to know more about Salvatio's birth name, but in the end, he just nodded.
"I will," he promised. "I will look after him until he doesn't need me anymore. Until he is ready to let me go and stand on his own"
Peverell nodded satisfied.
"Good," he rasped. "And tell him I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Nicholas asked confused.
Peverell's brown eyes met Nicholas' green.
"That I didn't tell him goodbye," he replied.
Nicholas' eyes widened, he flung himself forward, making a grabbing motion with his hands. But his hands, instead of meeting the fabric of Peverell's clothes, closed into nothingness.
Nicholas could only stare at his empty hand, sticking out of the ghostly chest of Peverell Grim.
"The last ingredient you missed," Peverell said emotionlessly, holding up his ghostly hands which had started to glow in a soft golden light. The glow spread throughout his body.
Peverell smiled.
"The last ingredient," he said, his voice nothing more but a ghostly whisper. "A freely given life."
And with that, Peverell dissolved into a bout of golden glitter.
The cauldron exploded, Nicholas was thrown back, hitting his head on the wall.
The only thing left when he returned to consciousness, would be an oddly shaped, blood-red stone, glittering strangely and mesmerizing in the light of the fire.
Some things had a price to achieve - and Peverell had paid the price of Nicholas' Philosopher's stone gladly if it meant that Sal wouldn't lose everyone of his new family within a few decades.
Sal would never truly find out that Peverell had sacrificed his last years on earth to ensure Nicholas' and Perenelle's ability to live for centuries.
No one would ever find out how to produce another Philosopher's stone - because Nicholas definitely wouldn't tell…
One sacrifice was more than enough.
When Eloise woke up again, her whole body ached.
"What's her status?" A stranger's voice asked someone above her.
"It doesn't look good, sir," a woman's voice said. "Whatever experiment she was part of, something went wrong quite horribly with it."
Eloise opened her mouth and groaned.
She wanted to ask what happened, but her lips were dry and she couldn't speak at all. Her whole body hurt terribly.
"What can you tell me about the experiment, sir?" The stranger asked.
This time another voice - a voice she knew - answered.
"We were testing a new way to time travel," Charlus, Eloise's best friend said and he sounded as if he was crying. "She went back in time and then used a device to return to the present."
Eloise would never find out that thanks to her decision more than twenty-five descendants of people she met and then left to themselves in the past were 'un-born'.
"Back in time?" The stranger's voice asked.
"To 1400," Charlus replied sniffing. "It should have been safe! We calculated everything!"
"So she went back about five hundred years," the stranger said.
The following Tuesday of Eloise's reappearance would last for two and a half full days, the following Thursday on the other hand would pass by in a mere four hours.
She had been warned of the consequences and didn't listen, so time-line had to suffer for her arrogance.
"And she's aging rapidly," the woman said. "It seems as if she's aging a far greater speed than she should, and we can't stop it at all…"
And Eloise had to suffer the consequences for her actions as well.
"Please!" Eloise heard Charlus plead. "Isn't there anything you can do?"
"I'm sorry," the woman said sighing, and Charlus started to cry in earnest.
This would also be the end of the Unspeakable's tries to go back further than a few hours. Instead, they enacted the time laws that would govern the wizards even nearly a hundred years later when thirteen-year-old Hermione Granger would be approved to have a time-turner to attend all her classes.
Eloise forced open her eyes.
She was in St. Mungo's.
She had gone back in time, lived there for five days and then returned to the present - and now she was aging rapidly, her body slowly dying.
"I warned you," another man's voice said sadly. "But you didn't want to listen."
Eloise's eyes went to the man leaning against the window, his eyes dark and sad, his clothing showing that he was working at St. Mungo's.
"Sal… vatio," she rasped, and he smiled.
"Actually," he said. "You first got to know me as 'Professor Malfoire'."
Her eyes widened.
"But yes, you are right," the man continued. "I am Salvatio, the 'seventeen-year-old child' you met in 1402."
"But…" she managed to rasp out.
"You should have lived through the centuries like I did," he said sadly. "It would have been far better for your health if you had done like I suggested."
"What… are… you…?"
"Doing here?" He finished for her quietly, looking over at Charlus who was raging against the other healers. "I'm a healer at St. Mungo's currently," Salvatio said. "I gave up my teaching position some time ago and started anew. Currently, I'm a healer's apprentice." He rolled his eyes at that as if being a healer's apprentice was funny in some way.
"Sadly there's no way I can tell them that I've been a healer for far longer than they've been alive already, so I had to start anew," he added, clearly amused by his problems instead of annoyed. Then his face turned serious again.
"If you want to, I can stop the pain," he told her, his eyes grave and sympathetic.
"The… aging…?" She forced out and he shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he said. "There are even things I can't do. I'm no god, you know." And the sorrow in his voice was real.
"This was your choice," he said bitterly. "I researched your predicament since you left back to the future. I found no way to stop the consequences the moment you destroyed the time-line's pathway with your decision to return to a place that didn't exist already. I am sorry, so so sorry that I'm unable to do more for you…"
And she could see that he meant every word he said.
"No," she rasped out. "I… am… for… not… listening…"
No one would ever find out that it was actually safe to travel back in time, as long as you came back to the future the natural way - day by day.
The only one, who knew, one Salvazsahar Emrys, also known as Salvatio Malfoire, would never tell anyone of his knowledge. In his eyes, not playing around with time was always the best solution anyway.
Then the healer who had been treating her turned and saw her awake. She saw Salvatio gesturing discretely, taking down a runic ward he had placed around them that had kept the others from hearing them.
"A… Madam Mintumble, you're awake," the healer said, his eyes as grave as Salvatio's.
"I… won't… sur… vive… th'… night," she rasped out.
"I'm afraid you won't," the healer said. "We tried everything, but we can't stop the aging process."
She forced herself to nod and then tried to lift her hand to gesture Charlus near her.
She wasn't able to, but Salvatio seemed to understand her intention, because he did it for her.
Charlus looked at Salvatio in confusion, but stepped near.
"Char… lus…" she rasped and again hot tears adorned her best friend's eyes. "'m… sorry…"
"You don't have to be sorry," Charlus said crying. "We made a mistake. Our calculations were wrong somehow and we…"
She forced herself to shake her head.
"I… made… it," she whispered. "I… was warned… I… didn't listen… sorry…"
And with that she closed her eyes.
No one would ever know more about her experience in the past than what she wrote down. She never ever wrote down 'Salvatio Malfoire', she always called him 'little Sal', so that she met someone who still lived, would forever remain a mystery - not that anyone would have ever connected the dots anyway.
Eloise's chest rose in a last shaky breath, and then there was silence.
She was dead.
And the last flower left on her grave was a simple little daisy - just like the daisies she was found lying in so long ago by the man who had influenced her life without ever being able to rescue her at all.
1400's French:
Com es elha, mieus amicx? - how is she, my beloved?
Mieus amicx - my beloved
Donzelh - Lady
1400's English:
Bist thòu heil? - Are you well?