Your Name is Eridan

A Second Chance, A New Start

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right. Eridan followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called out.

"Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"

Eridan searched his memory, and realized that it had to belong to Minerva McGonagall, Head of the Gryffindor House, Deputy Headmistress, and Transfiguration Professor. She was one of the few people that Harry would trust, and Eridan still had a grudging respect for the woman. Professor McGonagall reminded him vaguely of an older version of Maryam in a way, at least with her stern personality. He wondered what she wanted with him, surely he wasn't behaving that strangely... He and Hermione pushed through the crowd to get to her with nervous dispositions.

"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," she told them, "Move along there, Weasley."

Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Eridan and Hermione away from the chattering crowd. They accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor. Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Eridan and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk before speaking abruptly.

"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter."

Before Eridan could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in. He internally rolled his eyes. By the Empress, he had only fainted; it wasn't as if he died.

...Okay, technically he did, but not as Harry Potter. Besides, who knew how long it had been since he had been sliced in half? Six sweeps? Ten? Or perhaps Paradox Space struck again and he wound up in some other time?

Eridan wasn't an idiot, he knew where he was. This was Earth, the planet he and his friends poured their hearts into making during the game, the centerpiece of Bilious Slick. He knew that the humans he conversed with had just had their own Armageddon, and had more advanced technology than the muggle world Harry Potter lived in. So that meant that he had been placed in a time before that, on Earth before the 'Sburb' humans were probably even born. What a curious thought.

He wondered what these humans would have done if they ever found out what he had given them.

"I'm alright." he said, trying to avoid any words that would show his accent, "I don't need-"

"Oh, it's you, is it?" interrupted Madam Pomfrey, ignoring his words and bending down to stare closely at him, "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a Dementor, Poppy," answered Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Eridan's hair (messy and completely black with no violet highlight in sight) and feeling his forehead, "He won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate —"

"I am not delicate!" Eridan squawked indignantly.

"Of course you're not." soothed Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking his pulse.

"What does he need?" asked Professor McGonagall crisply, "Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

Eridan forgot how...weak humans were. On Alternia you just pulled yourself up and continued beating the shit out of your enemies. On Earth young humans were coddled every time they fell. At Hogwarts, the coddling was lessened to some degree, as you could actually get seriously injured in this castle (see: Stairs, Fluffy, Dragons, Professor Voldesnore, House Elves, Professor Imbecil Lockhart, Cursed Diaries, Basilisks, and the entire game of Quiddich).