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Harry's Legacy Chapter 1: The Portals - A Hogwart's Legacy Fanfic
🕑 Added 2023-03-15 15:59:01 +0000 UTCAN: Hello everyone and welcome to Harry's Legacy! This will be a shorter series where Harry travels back in time to period that the video game Hogwarts Legacy is set. It will feature a few one-shots with various women from the game. You do not need to have played the game (I will contextualize things as needed) and, other than the names and interests of the characters, there are only very mild, non-plot spoilers for the first hour of gameplay.
I hope you enjoy it! The next chapter will be out tomorrow and will feature a fan-favourite character in Professor Mirabel Garlick, the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts.
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As the late summer breeze washed over Harry, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to finally be returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. With the war over and Voldemort defeated, there were plenty of important questions on the horizon. What would he do next? Where would he go? Who would he get to be now that his life wasn’t in danger anymore?
The Aurors weren’t for him, not after all he’d been through in the war. He wished Ron luck when he decided to sign on several months earlier, but Harry left his options open, still uncertain as to what he wanted to do.
That was when a note arrived informing him that all of the students in his year were being invited back to Hogwarts to have a proper final year. When Hermione eagerly took the opportunity presented before her, Harry had been happy for her, but he didn’t accept. Hermione had been heartbroken that she’d be returning back to Hogwarts alone, but she understood Harry’s uncertainty. His whole life had been built up around fighting Voldemort, and now that constant was gone.
It wasn’t until Professor McGonagall visited the Burrow to speak to Harry that he had an option presented before him that he considered to be worthwhile. Apparently, Professor Dumbledore had left some special instructions to his portrait in the event that Harry survived the final battle as he had hoped. Harry still wasn’t sure how he felt about the man given the revelation that he had effectively manipulated Harry’s life into making him a sacrificial lamb to stop Voldemort, but he couldn’t deny the fact that Dumbledore’s hopes and gamble had paid off. Voldemort was dead, and Harry was alive.
Harry strode through the familiar corridors throughout Hogwarts as he made his way up to the Headmistress’s office. The gargoyle that guarded the stairwell leapt aside at his approach, giving him free access to the office.
The office was empty when Harry entered, other than the dozens of portraits of the past headmasters and headmistresses on the walls. Professor McGonagall had promised him privacy for this conversation, so she had placed drapes over each portrait except for the one that sat in the chair behind the desk.
Albus Dumbledore, looking just as Harry remembered him, smiled genially at Harry as the door closed behind him. “Harry,” he said softly.
Harry nearly broke down at hearing his mentor speak to him again. It felt like it had been so long since he’d heard the man’s voice, and yet as though no time had passed at all. Still, he managed to maintain his composure. “Professor,” he replied back respectfully.
Dumbledore looked Harry up and down. “I’m glad to see that you appear to be no worse for wear after everything that has happened.”
“Just a couple new scars,” Harry murmured, thinking about the lightning bolt shaped scar on his chest.
“Scars can be terribly useful,” Dumbledore pointed out jovially. “In fact, I have above my left knee in the precise-”
“Shape of a map of the London Underground,” Harry smiled sadly. Dumbledore, the real Dumbledore, had told Harry that a few years ago now, and it just made it really hit home that this portrait wasn’t actually his mentor, just a pale imitation of the man.
“Exactly,” Dumbledore beamed. “Now, I hope you know that I have called you here today for an important opportunity.”
Harry nodded. Professor McGonagall had told him as much, but, apparently, Dumbledore’s portrait had refused to explain any further to anyone but Harry himself.
“Excellent,” Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “Now, Hogwarts is an incredible place full of magic, much of it still mysterious to everyone alive today. The school was founded on a site of great power, and much of the magic imbued into the stones came from this innate magic in the earth. However, it also received a healthy dose of it from the Founders themselves. While some of the magic is still used today, much of it is ancient magic far beyond our understanding.”
Harry nodded along. He had always known that Hogwarts was special; anyone who visited the castle could feel the magic in the air around them.
“Try as I might, I was unable to unlock the secrets of this ancient magic the Founders used to build Hogwarts,” Dumbledore frowned. “But, I believe that you may be a viable candidate for this magic.”
“Me?” Harry frowned in confusion too.
“You,” Dumbledore nodded. “You only first attended Hogwarts in your fifth year. I still remember how Professor McGonagall told me about these swirls in the air you described upon first seeing my office. It wasn’t until I found an old journal by a former professor at Hogwarts, Percival Rackham, that I realized that what you saw were wisps of the ancient magic that permeates the halls of Hogwarts.”
The swirls of magic still existed in the periphery of Harry’s vision if he focused hard enough. They came out of the walls, floor, and ceiling, but he had long since learned to ignore them. Now he wished he hadn’t.
“So, I can see ancient magic,” Harry stated. The significance of the fact was still somewhat lost on him, but he was sure that Dumbledore would explain in due time. “What does your opportunity have to do with that?”
“Only one who can see ancient magic is able to activate it,” Dumbledore explained sagely. “Believe me, I have tried countless experiments to activate it myself, or have others activate it. All attempts have failed. But you, my dear boy, have the power within you to activate it.”
Honestly, Harry was so used to something ‘being special’ about him, that this barely registered as an important revelation. First there was the fact that he—well, technically his mother’s protection—had temporarily put a stop to Voldemort, then there was his parseltongue abilities, the prophecy, and, finally, his vanquishing of Voldemort. This was just another annoyance on a long list of things that made people treat him differently.
“If you would,” Dumbledore gestured at Harry. “Take out your wand and give it a wave at the archway behind you.”
Harry glanced back over his shoulder at the doorway he had entered into the office from. It looked like a normal archway above the door to him, but he was willing to humour Dumbledore if that was what the man wanted. Harry owed him that much for ensuring he didn’t die at Voldemort’s hands.
Harry gave a casual wave of his wand and, suddenly, an icy veil appeared in front of the door. It filled the archway completely and showed a room beyond.
“Excellent, excellent,” Dumbledore clapped furiously.
Harry was still too surprised to do much more than stare curiously at the archway.
“You should go explore what lies beyond that portal,” Dumbledore urged Harry. “I would come with you, but, alas, I fear I’d be little more than a burden. I cannot offer you any further insight into these matters of ancient magic as the limitations of being a portrait prevent me from assimilating new knowledge. This will have to be a quest for you alone.”
Even if Dumbledore’s words weren’t persuasive enough to Harry, he felt something calling to him through the portal. Something was pulling him in, and he wanted to see what it was.
So, Harry slowly walked towards the portal, leaving Dumbledore behind. The clear, icy portal seemed to frost over as he approached it. He gently placed the tip of his wand against the surface of it and found that it passed through easily with barely any resistance to speak of.
Putting his Gryffindor bravery to use, Harry stepped through the portal and into the dimly-lit corridor beyond.
“Professor, I-” Harry began to call out as he looked behind him towards the Headmistress’s office, only to see the portal disappear before his very eyes. “Great,” Harry groaned. “Just great.”
There was nowhere to go but forward; the archway he had passed through appeared to be filled with thick mortar. So, Harry turned back down the corridor and started walking.
It was a fairly narrow and short corridor that led into a circular room with a great glass dome above his head. Strangely, despite the fact that Harry had arrived at Hogwarts first thing in the morning, he was looking up at the night sky instead. The stars and the moon gently illuminated the circular room, showing off the solid marble floor, but the walls were still obscured in shadows.
Harry took a few steps forward cautiously into the center of the room, wand at the ready for anything. When he heard a snap go off behind him, he was already spinning on his heel, a shield charm on his lips, but he cut his spell off early when he saw that it was just a brazier in the floor being lit.
Suddenly, with the first one igniting, the rest of them followed suit. It was so dark around the edge of the room that Harry hadn’t even spotted the braziers before, but as they illuminated, he quickly realized their purpose.
Each pair of braziers flanked an archway set in the wall. Each one had solid stone behind it, but Harry could see wisps of magic coming from each one.
There was a rumble in the floor as a small section of it split in two and a podium rose out of the floor. An old, open tome was resting upon the podium. As it came to a steady stop and the floor closed back up underneath it, Harry made his way over to the curious sight.
Surprisingly, Harry could read whatever was written in the book, though the words were clearly not written in English. They seemed to be some sort of strange runes, but their meaning was clear as day to Harry. He started reading this . . . Letter.
To the One who wields Ancient Magic,
My name is Percival Rackham, a professor at Hogwarts and the leader of the Keepers. What you see before you are portals, portals to other times. They had sat here untouched for years until I discovered and reactivated them. If you activate them in turn, they shall take you to a time and a place that will give you whatever you should need most in your life. You will remain yourself, but the circumstances you shall find yourself in will be unique to say the least. I myself spent time touring the various magical schools in their infancy, learning how they came to be and how they learned to teach new generations of students, while Professor Rookwood traveled to the 1800s and learned of the scientific developments that had taken place since our time, helping him to refine his abilities and learn to connect with new modes of thinking. I cannot say how your own experiences may change you, but take heed of the lessons they provide.
The Ancient Magic that powers the portals shall bring you back here when the time is right. Until then, revel in the experiences you shall face; I can promise you that they will be something to remember forever.
The portal that brought you here in the first place will reactivate once you have visited each of the portals in this room. Do not worry about the time you take while inside of here; this place is beyond the normal flow of time and, once you return to Hogwarts, you shall find that no time has passed at all for anyone else, not even yourself, but the memories you make during your time here will stay with you always.
Good luck,
Professor Percival Rackham
Well, that was something. Harry looked around the room, trying to count the number of portals available to him, but his mind refused to come up with a definitive number. Probably the magic still being uncertain as to how many experiences he needed to have, Harry surmised.
The first portal to the left of the corridor he had entered from suddenly activated, filling the archway completely. Harry left the book and slowly walked over to the new portal. He could see the greenhouses at Hogwarts through the portal. What? Did the ancient magic think he needed to catch up on his herbology lessons?
Harry snorted and shook his head. Magic did work in mysterious ways.
There was nothing he could do about it now; he could feel that he was trapped here until he had all of the experiences that the Ancient Magic wanted him to experience. There was no sense in waiting any further.
Harry stepped through the portal.
