Intro and Prologue
My working title for this (potentially) massive epic has all along been Harry At Atlantis or H(e-mail "at" sign)A for short. The initial idea came after reading another author's story in which Harry ended up in the Pegasus Galaxy after having taken on the identity of a muggle named John Sheppard. I liked the story but had a bit problem with the premise. I just couldn't agree that Harry would resort to such a convoluted solution. After months of ruminating about how I would get Harry to the "City on The Edge of Forever" I was inspired to sit down and start writing something, anything, when I read the "DVD" commentary of synecdochic's story "Freedom's Just Another Word for Nothing Left to Lose". Her musings about how the story had evolved in unforeseen directions once she started write it from her original idea and the surprises that ensued motivated me to just sit down and start writing. Several obsessive weeks of intense torture followed and HP & The Legacy of the Ancients was born. It is still evolving and growing, rather slowly I'm afraid, but progress is being made.
This story belongs to me. Alas, the characters and settings belong to other people and soul-less corporations who can afford to hire lawyers. While I would love to recieve some kind of renumeration for all the time and energy and sleepless nights that I've put into this epic, I know that that is unlikely to happen. I've been writing this for fun, entertainment, experience and to satisfy some sort of obsessive-compulsive masocistic leaning that occasionally possesses me. If only it would take me over a bit more often as then I would be a bit closer to completing this sisyphean undertaking but my mundane life all too often interferes and the horses here on the farm need to be fed and cleaned up after at least twice a day, seven days a week.
I'm determined to keep to my format of alternating chapters as the main story evolves but I have segments written that I haven't fit into the main narrative quite yet and I may post them as excerpts or extras as time goes on. My goal is to post on a regular basis of once a week or so at a minimum and if I need to stretch things out a bit by putting up an alternative or cut scene I just may do that.
Voldemort was dead, the war long since over. The final battle had taken its toll in bodies and magic and left Harry practically a squib. Instead of returning to Hogwarts for his seventh and final term, years later then he should have, he went to Oxford.
Then came the phone call that led to an unexpected trip to Egypt the summer after his first year of postgraduate work. Upon arriving back in the UK he made the journey to Hogwarts for the first time in almost seven years.
He hitched a ride on the Hogwart's express and, by staying in his compartment, went unrecognized by the few students he encountered. Not that this generation knew much about The Boy Who Lived. The horrors of the past had been quickly swept under the carpet as the Wizarding world tried to get back to "normal." Even the occasional "what ever happened to?" articles in the Daily Profit on certain anniversaries had stopped appearing.
After eating a hearty dinner, Harry walked slowly to the school from Hogsmeade, arriving very late, well after the students had finished the welcome feast and been sent off to their dormitories. The protections at the gate allowed him through with minimal resistance. They hadn't forgotten him but they sensed the bone deep changes within and perhaps weren't quite so sure of him as they once would have been. He nodded to the winged boars upon their twin pillars as if to thank them and acknowledge his understanding of their uncertainty.
The new layers of security that met him at the front of the castle itself were a different matter entirely. Invisible forces held him as the stonework shifted and flowed around a face forming at his eye level in a wall near the doors. A face that reminded him of Dobby. Inhuman eyes met his and read his soul.
"Who goes?" the stone lips whispered.
"Harry James to see Professor Binns. I believe I'm expected."
"Harry James Potter."
A tingling ran through him from his toes to the top of his head and he was free to move. With a "pop" the face in the stone vanished and one of the huge wooden doors opened. Another whispering voice, this time seeming to emanate from the air around him, said "Welcome Harry Potter. You are free to walk the halls of Hogwarts unescorted. A room has been prepared for you on the guest floor of the teacher's tower."
Not knowing if anyone or anything was listening Harry said "Thank you," and stepped through the open door. He made his way directly to Professor Binn's office, next to the History Of Magic classroom, with no pausing for nostalgic reminiscing. His task was urgent and he had an appointment to keep. Besides, there was so much of his life associated with this place that he didn't want to remember. He had long ago packed the grief and memories deep down inside himself where he shut and locked the lid to the trunk that held them.
That was how Harry visualized it when he woke from the nightmares that still occasionally haunted him. A trunk bound with straps of steel and magic never to be opened again. The keys and incantations to open it were locked away in another trunk protected just as fiercely as the first.
As Harry lifted the tongue of the rather hideous gargoyle face that was the knocker, the door opened and he heard Professor Binns' voice say, "Come in Harry. Come in and welcome."
Harry stepped through the doorway and saw the professor come through his desk with his arms open wide as if to clasp his shoulders in greeting. Harry could not remember ever seeing this particular ghost so demonstrative. He stepped back a single step and gave a short bow.
"Thank you for seeing me, Professor, on such short notice. I know that you're busy at the beginning of the school year."
"Nonsense my dear boy, anytime. Anytime. Now what can I do for you? Your message seemed quite urgent and I can't imagine what this old bag of protoplasm could possibly do for you."
"Professor, what can you tell me about an ancient race of supernatural creatures called the Goa 'uld?"