Title: Witchcraft
Genre: Action/Adventure, Supernatural
Pairings/Couple(s): Prue/Snape, Piper/Leo, Phoebe/Bill, Harry/Blaise, Ron/Luna (?), Ginny/Neville (?), Hermione/Draco (?)
Rating: PG13 (Maybe R later)
Page Number: 1
Link to the fic: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2272234/1/
Author’s Note: Not sure about the pairings JUST yet, Chapter 5 is on the way! Please Review!!

-Witchcraft-

Harry Potter of Number four Privet Drive was currently stunned.

He was sitting in a large marble office at the end of a long mahogany conference table. Around the table were several short and balding creatures. The small creatures, Goblins, as they were called in this world, watched the young man with amusement playing in their eyes. He was staring at an ancestral record that had been recently unearthed in the Gringotts Library known as the Halls of Graultak, his vividly green eyes shone with amazement and his mouth was gaping with surprise.

Earlier that day, the first of June, Harry had been summoned to Gringotts for an ‘undisclosed matter of immense importance’. Having been at the Dursleys’ residence for even the total of twelve hours that he was, Harry was eager to return to his rightful place, the Wizarding world. Carefully avoiding his minders, he had boarded the Knight Bus and made his way to the Goblin bank.

Upon his arrival, he was quietly shuffled towards the boardroom where he now sat. The Goblins had then informed him that after unearthing a sealed room within the Halls of Graultak, they had found many ancient records of long forgotten families along with even older spell books – Grimoires and Books of Shadows, as they were so called – belonging to all of those with Ancient Blood. The followers of the Green Way, as they were called, used an ancient form of magic that was tied to Nature herself.

The Goblins had begun a careful inventory of the Chamber, and had sorted through the meticulously kept records – self-updating, a quite handy piece of Goblin magic. Most of the documents related to old Pureblood families, and appeared to be a back-up library of sorts. Many of the families mentioned had been destroyed during the reigns of Grindelwald and Voldemort. Gringott himself had built the entire chamber as a safe house for important items and documents needed to properly govern the newly separated Wizarding world.

Harry was handed a copy of the family tree of House Warren. The scroll documented and explained an Ancient Blood family. Ancient Blood families were, in times past, the rulers of the magical world, able to trace their families back to the times of Merlin and Queen Mab. Such families had all but died out in the years following the creation of the Wizard’s Council. The Dumbledores, Blacks, Ollivanders, and even the reclusive Emrys family were of Ancient Blood.

The Warren genealogy had eventually split into two main branches around the 16th Century, when one half had left to the New World, and, according to the text, they had continued following the Green Way till present day. The British, however, had ceased their practise after their ancestral home had been destroyed; this line continued down until the last family name on the chart, Evans.

Harry Potter was stunned. Here, in this very scroll, sat evidence that his ‘Muggle-born’ mother was in fact more ‘pure’ than many in the Wizarding world could ever hope to be. He looked up at the Goblins with wide eyes. He could barely understand what this meant for him, this family and this magic, why the Goblins had deemed it so important.

He tried to speak, but it simply came out as a whisper. “Explain.”

And so the Goblin directly across from him began in a harsh, scratchy voice.

“It is scarcely known in the Wizarding world of the existence of the Green Way. During the Dark Ages, known to the layman as the ‘time of the Founders’ – who incidentally were simply powerful wizards who created the first school of magic, they had absolutely no political power over the Wizard’s Council.

“Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Rowena Ravenclaw were powerful wizards and witches who had dedicated their lives to teaching magical children. Godric would teach the arts of Duelling and Beastiology, Rowena the arts of Magic and of the Mind, Salazar the arts of Potion-making and Spell-crafting, while Helga would impart the knowledge of Herbology and Gifts. While there is common knowledge of Salazar’s ‘betrayal’, it is not widely known that when he left Helga followed, both being of the Green Way.

“This separation marked the great Schism of Magic, the separation of Wizardry, and the Green Way. This parting led the followers of the Green Way to leave the Wizarding world behind and to live amongst Muggles. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry became a school not of Magic, but of Wizardry.


“You, Harry, are a Witch.”

 

-Witchcraft-

-Wands and Wings (and Floaty Crowny Things!)-

“I’m a… what?”

“A Witch, Mr Potter, a follower of the Green Way. It is similar to the magics used by all Magical Beings, Goblins included.”

“I’m – I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand.” Harry again looked at the faces covered in tears of mirth surrounding him.

“Mr Potter, our point in bringing you here was not simply for a history lesson. Your being the sole male of the Warren Line are subject to Ancient Blood laws. We have an Inheritance Ritual prepared for you, which I do suggest you perform immediately so you can claim ownership of both the Potter and Warren estates.

“If you would look on the other branch of the Warren tree, you will find living relatives in the United States. As you know, your mother’s blood protects you, therefore if you so desire you are able to contact them and possibly arrange a… change of address.”

Harry looked around at the goblins that had turned deadly serious; thoughts began flying through his mind.

‘What do they want? …Don’t trust Goblins! … Inheritance? What will they gain from this? Is Voldemort behind this? A new home!’
“I… I would like to complete this ritual, sir,” He said, still looking at the three names beside his at the bottom of the family tree.

The Goblins ushered Harry into an adjoining room. It was made of black stone; all of the light in the room seemed to be absorbed by the dark stone. As he entered, he could feel the magic thick in the air, making his skin tingle and hair stand on end. In the centre of the room was a white pentagram with a jewelled knife and a piece of parchment set in front of it.

He was told to recite the words ‘Concipo Relictus Hereditas Harry James Potter’ as he smeared his blood along the outline of the pentagram.

As he did this, the pentagram absorbed the blood from the floor and began to glow an eerie green as the entire room shook. Harry stood in the centre of the pentagram and looked in shock as the parchment floated at the tip of the pentagram. The green light receded into the topmost point of the star, only to shoot into the parchment with a large Whoosh!

Harry fell to the floor as the scroll floated into his outstretched hands. He read the shining green words as they appeared.

Lord Harold James Evans Warren Black-Potter

(Order of Merlin’s Torch, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of Dark Arts Defence Force.)

Birth name: Harold James Evans Potter
Date of Birth: 31st July 1980
Born to:

Lord James Wilfred Potter
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Auror First Class, Holder of the Raven’s Claw.)
7th April 1960 – 31st October 1981

Lady Lily Roselind Evans-Potter
(Order of Merlin 1st Class, Order of Circe 1st Class, Charms Mistress.)
23rd August 1960 – 31st October 1981

Head of:
The Ancient and Beloved House of Potter
The Most Ancient and Powerful House of Warren
The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black

Titles:

Lord Potter
Seat on Wizengamot, Seat on Wizard’s Council, International Confed. Wizards (British Council).

Lord Black
Seat on Wizengamot, Seat on Wizard’s Council, Seat on Council of Magick.

Lord Warren
Seat on Wizengamot, Seat on Wizard’s Council, Seat on Council of Magick.

Properties:

Potter Estates

Potter Castle, Wales (Unplottable)
Godric’s Hollow, Scotland (Unplottable) (Dormant Fidelius Charm)
23 Kelpie Lane, Hogsmeade (Dervish and Banges)
6 Diagon Alley (Apothecary)

Warren Estates

Warren Castle, Ireland (Destroyed)
4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England.
56 Knockturn Alley (Rede’s Apothecary and Green Supplies)
Halliwell Manor, San Francisco, United States.

Black Estates

Castle Black, Scotland (Unplottable)
Black Manor (Unplottable) (Active Fidelius Charm)
Chateau Noir, France (Unplottable)

Magical Status:

Magicus Subolesco: Not Achieved
Wiccaning: Not Performed

Levels:

Wizarding: High Sorcerer, Magic growing, Subolesco pending,
Metamorphmagus
Environmental
Magic Bound (Tom Marvolo Riddle, Heir Slytherin)

Witchcraft: Witch, Powers Bound.
Telekinesis
Pyrokinesis
Molecular Control (Stasis, Disruption)

A light appeared behind him, Harry turned to see one of the Goblins standing outside, motioning for him to follow. As Harry left the room, he noticed that the magic that had stifled him within the room had all but disappeared, and the pentagram was burned into the now white floor.

“Mr Potter, an Inheritance Ritual should not have used the amount of magic that yours did. I am afraid that Mr Dumbledore and Minister Fudge have arrived and are currently trying to gain entrance to the room you just left. We must now finish the ritual in a safer place to establish yourself as the Magical Head of your Family and to unbind your Wizarding magic.

“We have long watched you and waited for the day you would gain inheritance. The Goblins are restless, Mr Potter, although we may look to be harmless bankers, we Goblins are, and always have been, trained warriors. It is taking all of our effort to keep the population from another rebellion. We need your help in securing our status in the Wizarding world.”

“I… I’ll do what I can.”

The Goblin looked hard at him and nodded.

Harry was led into a large circular marble room filled with various tapestries depicting pureblood genealogy, in the centre upon a black dais sat a pedestal with three small boxes, one black, one green, and one purple. He was led to the dais and the boxes were opened. On the inside of the boxes were three crests; in the green box was one of a flaming Phoenix rising from a destroyed castle, the black had a full moon with a Thestral flying across it, and the third was a simple Celtic sign of three interlocking arcs surrounded by a circle.

Upon beds of silk sat three rings. The Potter Ring was gold with small glowing emeralds surrounding a diamond. The Black Ring was silver with a solitary piece of Onyx that was so dark it shone with a dark light. The final ring, the Warren Ring was gold with the inset crest in black, the crest, too, shone with inner light and power.

Harry was told to place the rings on his hand, he placed the Black Ring on his right little finger, the Potter Ring on his right ring finger, and the Warren Ring on his left ring finger. Each began to glow as a tingle began to work its way through his body. Harry was immediately overcome with an urge to speak in a powerful, echoing voice.

“I, Harold James Evans Warren Black-Potter, do swear upon my soul, magic, and spirit to uphold the laws and traditions of my Family as Patriarch to the lines of Potter, Black, and Warren. So it is said, so it is done. Blessed Be.”

A blinding flash consumed him as he felt the magic within him release, a weight was lifted off of his soul, and a ghostly spectre floated from his scar with a screech. When the light had subsided, Harry noted that his hair was now longer and pulled back into a ponytail. Dudley’s rags, which he had been wearing, had transformed into shimmering robes of deep black. Upon the left breast was a new crest, within the Triquetra were a Thestral and a Phoenix joined in a flight of crimson flames.

“Come, Lord Potter, we have retrieved your belongings and are preparing for your departure.”

“Of course, please lead on,” Harry said with a newfound confidence.

The two made their way back to the conference room Harry had started in. Along with the Family Tree, Harry’s trunk now sat against a wall and there was also a large book bound in dark green with the Warren Crest upon it. He opened it and in stylised gothic lettering, it bore the words:

The Book of Shadows
-423 BC-

Still looking at the first page in the book, he said to the goblin, whose name he learned was Ragnok:

“I need to go into the Alley for some shopping – I assume I have access to all three family vaults?” After seeing Ragnok nod, he continued. “Good, I would like a Muggle Credit Card for each vault, along with a Book of Gringotts Bank Drafts for each vault.”

“Of course, Lord Potter, shall I have someone bring them for you?”

“Please.” Harry turned to the goblin standing by the door. “Call me Harry. Oh, and could I get someone to shrink this trunk for me?”

“As you wish, Harry.”

Twenty minutes later Harry was walking through Diagon Alley towards Ollivander’s. He had just left Madam Malkins with a rather large order that would take the better part of a week to prepare. Madam Malkin herself had fainted after seeing the bank draft handed to her after taking his measurements. Since the ‘Bonding’ as Harry dubbed it to himself, he had been seeing intermittent flashes of colour surrounding people and objects. In some areas throughout the alley, there were clouds of colour simply being, not noticed by anyone as they walked through them. Entering the ancient shop, Harry felt as if his entire self was under attack, a weight had been put on his shoulders, he felt dulled and slow.

“Mr Potter, I must say this is a surprise. Are you alright, my boy?”

“Warren… Inheritance… Magic unbound… too much here… help!”

Harry promptly sank to the floor, unconscious. His eyes had rolled back into his head leaving only white, a green aura formed around him and colours began to swirl from the air being drawn towards his body. Ardwick Ollivander was stunned; for once in his long life he hadn’t a single clue, or inclination of what to do. He pulled out his wand and began muttering to himself, the quick analysis charm read:

Unbound Environmental – Magic Rising.

In a panic, he cast his strongest suppressant charm, effectively cutting off the young man from the immense amount of magic inside the shop. Harry’s breathing slowed to normal and the auras disappeared, he rolled over and sat up.

“Unh, what happened?”

“That was quite a scare, Mr Potter, how recently did you unbind your magic?”

“Umm… Half an hour ago, at Gringotts.”

“Well, Mr Potter, your Environmental abilities have already begun to manifest, have you been seeing any flashes of colour?”

Harry pulled himself into a chair that was sitting against the wall; he shook his head and looked around. The entire shop was a rainbow of colour all centering around Mr Ollivander who was in a nimbus of pale blue light, it was slowly fading, receding into him.

“Yes, you… you’re blue. What is an Environmental?”

“An Environmental, Mr Potter, is a wizard who has the ability to draw magic from the very environment around them rather than relying on their own core magic. The colours help to identify different concentrations of magic. I imagine my shop is quite a sight to see indeed. Now, how may I help you, Mr Potter?”

Harry was stunned, he needed to learn how to control this new ability, but first, he needed a new wand.

“Oh, sorry about that. Yes, I need a new wand. My old wand doesn’t feel… right anymore, and if I am to battle Voldemort I need a new wand to circumvent the Priori Incantatum.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Potter, it is strictly forbidden, and I cannot sell you a new wand unless your old one is broken with a certificate from the Ministry.”

“But… Sir, I…”

“However, I do know of a small shop in Knockturn Alley run by a Wandcrafter just behind Borgin and Burkes. His wands are substantially better than the ones you will get from me for the simple fact that they are custom-made, also quite illegal in the fact that no Ministry tracking charms are applied.” The peculiar old man said with a smile.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of going there, Mr Ollivander, thank you for the warning.”

“Of course, lad, what are we Ancients to do, but help each other?” He said still smiling, “That Suppressor Charm will wear off over the next hour to allow you to get used to the different concentrations of magic around you, if you feel heavy again, imagine erecting a barrier between yourself and the magic outside.”

Ollivander then disappeared into the back of his shop, as Harry left the store for Knockturn Alley.

With his hood up, Harry couldn’t see any of the strange characters he could smell, he could, however, see the blackened cobblestone that was splashed with liquids of all sorts, possibly even blood. As he reached Borgin and Burkes, he spotted by the entrance to a small alleyway a grubby arrow-shaped sign depicting a wand. He hurried down the rough path that was less than a metre wide until he came to a heavy wooden door with the words Wandcrafting: Est. 1895. He knocked twice upon the door and heard heavy bolts being slid down. The door slithered open a crack and he heard a wheezy voice.

“Who sent you, what do you want?”

“I’m here for a wand. Ollivander sent me.”

The door creaked open loudly and Harry slipped inside. Again colours assaulted his eyes but with the Suppressor active he didn’t feel them. The room was small and lined with shelves similar to Ollivander’s. A small man stood in front of him, eyeing him up and down.

“You need a custom-crafted job then, come with me.”

The man walked through an oak door into a room lined with materials for wand making.

“You’ll need to choose a wood first, go around and feel each one – whichever one feels best bring it over to me.”

Harry walked over to a far shelf with a row of woods; he walked along touching each piece. Closing his eyes, he felt each one, their differences, and their magic until he reached one. His magic rushed towards it and he could feel a sense of belonging. Opening his eyes, he saw the darkest wood he had ever seen. Surrounding it was an aura of bright green – the exact shade of his eyes. He looked closer and saw absolutely no grain to the wood; it was as if it was a piece of plastic, if not for the magic that was singing around it. He brought it to the short man and received a toothless, gummy grin from him.

“Amazing,” He wheezed. “That is Basilisk’s Ebony, extremely rare, it grows upon the ground where a Basilisk has decomposed. Now we need to shape the block, what you need to do is merge your magic with the magic of the wood and tell it to form.”

“Alright.”

Harry put his hands on the dark wood and closed his eyes. He focused on the feeling of his magic, the rush of warmth that filled him with every spell uttered. He coaxed it out of hiding and nudged it towards the wood.

‘Join, meld, shape, form.’

He felt the wood respond with its own magic another type of warmth more of a tingle and the feeling of acceptance. Under his hands, the wood seemed to melt and twist around his hand. When the feeling stopped, he felt his magic return to his body and he opened his eyes, the smooth handle sat perfectly in his palm and the wood had formed a spiral around the knuckle of his index finger and took the form of a basilisk with two hollows where the eyes should be at the tapered end.

“Excellent form, sir, now like you did before, extend your magic towards the core materials and whichever ones feel right, allow them to filter into your wand.”

Harry walked towards the wall and again coaxed his magic outward. Three objects floated towards him. A Phoenix feather, a larger golden feather, and a jar of what looked like blood. Upon closer inspection the second feather appeared to be a Griffin’s feather, and the label on the jar read Runespoor Venom, Age 274. Harry moved the feathers closer to the wand and allowed them to enter. The Basilisk’s mouth opened and swallowed the now intertwined feathers. After a second, the Basilisk jumped forward and sunk tiny fangs into the jar; the red liquid slowly disappeared into the wand creating a swirl of gold and green lights. The Basilisk pulled back and returned to its previous state.

“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful, sir. Your wand appears to need a focusing stone, please continue.” The small man was positively bouncing with excitement.

On a nearby table sat a pile of gems, many of them magical in formation. Extending his magic again, a single bright yellow stone rose and began to spin; it split in two and sunk into the eyeholes on the wand. They glowed for a moment and went dull, but retained a twinkle that wasn’t present before.

“I… I’m done, its amazing, thank you.”

“As Mr Ollivander would say, give it a wave!”

So Harry did, and an emerald nimbus flowed from the tip of the wand surrounding him with warmth.

“How much?”

“All custom works are one price, 500 Galleons.”

“No problem,” came the breathless reply, still staring at the amazing creation before him.

 

-Witchcraft-

-Injuries and Oaths-

While their friend stood in awe of his new wand, much to the amusement of the storeowner, seven redheads were solemnly standing around a bed in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

After returning home to the Burrow, Ronald Weasley had begun screaming nonsense at the top of his lungs before falling into a seizure. After rushing their son to the hospital, Arthur and Molly Weasley were informed that his mind had been completely de-structured by the tentacle-covered brains at the Department of Mysteries.

Ron was now lying catatonic in the Janus Thickey ward, next to the Longbottoms; Frank and Alice Longbottom had been tortured into the same state.

Staring down at their son, Arthur and Molly stood proud of him, for defeating Death Eaters in a dire situation – they would forever be proud of their brave son.

Ginny, the youngest, was sitting beside him holding his hand, absentmindedly stroking it while looking into his glazed-over eyes.

The twins, Fred and George, were in tears holding each other, while Bill and Charlie stood stoic – the only sign of emotion was a single tear streaked across Bill’s face.

The Healers had informed them that the only way for Ron to recover would be known to the Department of Mysteries, which was notorious for not disclosing secrets.

Ginny looked back down at her brother, her brown eyes hardened in anger, and sadness.

‘I’ll get them for you Ron; the Death Eaters will die by my hand.’

At the same moment the Weasley Patriarch’s face hardened, he had come to the decision that he had failed to make during the last war.

“My family, may this mark the day we refuse to sit idle as the world passes us by.” Arthur stood taller and placed his right hand over his heart. “The Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley is hereby reinstated by the Right of Vengeance. May the Gods pity those who have wronged us!

“I, Arthur William Weasley, as Head of House Weasley do swear upon my soul, magic, and spirit to seek vengeance upon the servants of the Dark Wizard Voldemort, so let it be!”

“I, Emily Morgan Prewett-Weasley, as the Regent-Head of the Ancient and Harmonious House of Prewett do swear upon my soul, magic, and spirit to seek vengeance upon the servants of the Dark Wizard Voldemort, so let it be!”

One by one each of the Weasley children repeated their oath, until they reached the youngest. Ginny stood and looked at her family, with an angry glint in her eyes she repeated her oath.

“I, Ginevra Emily Weasley, as the Regent Heiress Apparent of the Ancient and Harmonious House of Prewett, and daughter of the Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley, do swear upon my soul, magic, and spirit to avenge the sanity of my brother upon the self appointed Lord Voldemort, the Half-Blood Tom Marvolo Riddle, and his servants, may they be forever condemned to the Underworld!”

A fast wind rushed through the ward and the Weasley family each kissed their fallen son on the forehead before returning to the Burrow, to begin recalling their vassals and ancient alliances. Across Britain, their words were heard and recorded in every pureblood home.

In a Diagon Alley apartment, another redheaded man looked upon the oath his family had just sworn. With a grim smile, he whispered, “I, Percival Ignatius Weasley, as a son of the Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley do swear upon my soul, magic, and spirit to uphold my family’s honour and grace by seeking vengeance upon the Dark Wizard Voldemort.”

With a few sharp jabs of his wand, Percy Weasley had packed his possessions, and looked around the empty room. He knew that with his family name re-instated, the Wizard’s Council would be re-assembled for the first time since it’s disbandment in the mid-seventeenth century. With a slight pop the last member of the Weasley family Apparated to the Burrow.


Hermione Granger, of Number 32, Alsace Court, was currently reading in her back yard. The large leather bound book, 101 Curses to Kick Dark Arses, looked quite out of place in her large suburban yard. The house was a rather small home with two stories, much like the Dursleys’ on Privet Drive. She turned a page in the book and stretched her arms in a yawn. With a gasp and a rather nasty looking wince, she drew her arms back.

Sighing, she closed the book and reached for a large bottle of a white liquid. She took a large sip and ran her fingers along the puckered scar that extended from the middle of her chest to her right shoulder.

The Dark curse that Rookwood had used on her was a variant of the Flame-Whip Curse, it was created to burn and then begin to decompose the living tissue as it spread through the victim’s body. It would take well over another month for the injury to heal, and then the long process of repairing the scar would begin.

She shook her head and turned her thoughts to Harry.

‘I wonder how he’s doing; I can’t believe Sirius is gone. Harry must feel absolutely terrible!’

As the brown-haired girl sat engrossed in her thoughts, a regal looking owl descended to the wheelchair that she was confined to and held a large envelope out to her. Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked at the owl and took the letter.

‘I wonder why Hermes is delivering this, maybe Percy finally came to his senses about Headmaster Dumbledore.’

She turned over the envelope and inspected the seal; it was a deep blood red and depicted a large griffin with a serpent in its talons. She pulled out a piece of parchment and began to read.

Dear Hermione,

We feel that you should be informed of Ronald’s condition. Shortly after returning to the Burrow, he went into a catatonic state as a result of the attack at the Department of Mysteries. He is currently in the Janus Thickey Long-term Ward at St. Mungo’s. We extend a place for you and your family at the Burrow for the duration of the summer months. We have declared a Right of Vengeance against the Death Eaters, and have re-instated the Family’s name. Our vassals and lands have been recalled. We hope you and your parents will accept our offer to the three of you, and hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely Yours,

Arthur and Molly

The Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley


For probably the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was speechless. She stared at that vile word, catatonic. She felt fiery tears well up in her eyes. She stared up in the sky and took a deep breath. Thinking back, she remembered what she had read about oaths in an assignment for History of Magic. Shakily she stood upright and looked back to the letter in her hand. With a sharp pain in her arm, she held her right hand over her heart.

“I, Hermione Jane Granger, daughter of Aaron, firstborn in my line, do swear on my soul, magic, and spirit allegiance to the Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley in their pursuit of Vengeance, so let it be!”

A hot wind swept around her, her hair flying behind her as if with an anger belonging entirely to itself. She sat and slowly wheeled herself back into her house, and began to dial her parent’s office.


Anger.

All he could feel was anger.

Anger at Bellatrix.

Anger at Sirius.

Hot tears streaked down his face, his green eyes glowing slightly. Harry Potter had just woken up from a dream.

Sirius Black, his godfather, had been duelling with his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. As Sirius fell back into the veil, he looked into Harry’s eyes. A single tear fell from Sirius’ eyes as he disappeared, mouthing one word.

“Sorry.”

Harry wiped his eyes and gritted his teeth. He could not show weakness, not now, not ever. It would kill him. He was too busy, there was too much to do.

He made his way to the small desk that stood across from his bed. Harry was staying the in Leaky Cauldron; he was much too tired to make his way back to Surrey. He took a quill in hand and dipped it into the inkpot that stood above the stack of parchment. He placed the tip to the paper and in an elegant script, quite unlike his usual handwriting, began a series of letters.

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

Please accept my deepest apologies for my behaviour at our last meeting. It was, even given the circumstances, unforgivable. I have recently been summoned to Gringotts and several pieces of information were made available to me that need to be discussed in person. Please meet me where Snuffles fell at 1:30 p.m. tomorrow (2nd June, 1996.). We have much to discuss.

Respectfully Yours,

Harold James Evans Warren Black-Potter

The Most Ancient and Powerful House of Warren


Dear Neville,

I thank you for your assistance in the battle at the Ministry of Magic this past week. You have always been overlooked by your classmates and community. You are an amazing Wizard, Neville, and, if I may, for your new wand please go to Knockturn Alley. There is a little known Wandcrafter in an alley beside Borgin and Burkes. Tell him that I’ve sent you. I have already covered the cost of replacing your wand. The Ancient and Beloved House of Potter is in your debt.

Sincerely Yours,

Harold James Potter

The Ancient and Beloved House of Potter

P.S. Show this to your Gran, Nev. I’m sure she’ll be proud of you.


Dear Remus,

I do hope I can call you Remus, it seems rather wrong to call you ‘Professor’ anymore. I cannot even begin to fathom how you must feel at the moment – you have lost the last friend from your days at school. I will find Pettigrew and ensure Sirius’ name is cleared. Please write back and don’t fall into depression, Remus, I need you to be there for me. You’re the only father I have left.

Love,

Prongs, Jr.

Aspiring Marauder

* * *

To the Sisters Halliwell,

I know you must be wondering about this method of letter delivery, but please bear with me for the moment. My name is Harry Potter. To put it bluntly, I am the last of the Warren line in Britain. When I was one, my parents, James and Lily Potter, were murdered by an evil wizard named Voldemort.

I am a wizard, and a witch. I have only today been given information about the Warren Family, of which my mother belonged to. Our branch lost their powers after our ancestral home in Scotland was destroyed. I have recently been given a Book of Shadows dated 423 BC.

I am contacting you in hope of finding a place to live for the summer, and to help with my powers. I have lived with my Aunt Petunia since the night my parent’s died – she doesn’t want me and never has. If you were to agree, I would be most grateful, I hope to continue correspondence with you in the future.

Your Cousin,

Harry Potter


Sons and Daughters,

Let it be known that on the date of May 27th 1996, Bellatrix Black Lestrange committed a most heinous crime. Bellatrix killed Sirius Black, heir to the family. In response all dowries and alliances with the House Lestrange are hereby dissolved, and Bellatrix disinherited and removed from the House.

Narcissa Black Malfoy is hereby on familial probation as bound by family law for assisting the Dark wizard, Voldemort. The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has never allied itself with the self-appointed Lord, and never will. Any who are seen to be assisting the wizard named shall be immediately ejected from the family.

Andromeda Black Tonks and her daughter Nymphadora Circe Tonks are hereby reinstated and welcomed back into the family for their unwavering service in our name.

So it is said, so it shall be,

Lord Black

Toujours Pur


Harry sealed each letter with their respective crest and set them into the “out” box on the desk. They were instantly transported to the Post Office for immediate delivery. With a quick flick of his wand and a muttered “Tempus”, grey smoke formed in the air. It read 9:00 p.m. Harry sighed and went back into the large comfortable bed and settled for sleep.

The next morning Harry awoke to a tray of hot tea and scones next to his bed. Stretching, he made his way back to the desk and picked up the correspondence he had received over night.

Dear Harry,

I am most intrigued at the signed name on the letter I received from you. Please do not worry about my office, I understand your position and your actions. I do think that if our positions had been reversed I would have reacted in much the same manner. I will meet you at the pre-arranged location and time. I do hope you are able to be there.

Sincerely,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

The Most Ancient and Wise House of Dumbledore

Smiling lightly, Harry opened the next letter.

Dear Harry,

Thank you for the letter, my Gran saw it and I must say she is quite a lot prouder than she has ever been of me.

Thank you for paying for the wand, I hope that I can get a good one at this wandcrafter you mentioned.

Now for the formalities, the Ancient and Humble House of Longbottom do hereby accept the debt of The Ancient and Beloved House of Potter.

Take Care,

Neville Franklin Longbottom

The Ancient and Humble House of Longbottom


My Lord Black,

As a daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black I accept my state of probation. I apologise to the whole family for the actions of Bellatrix, I had simply offered her a place in my home. It was she who called the house-elf Kreacher.

I do hope we meet soon, my Lord; I have gone through steps to ensure my son will not serve Riddle.

Deepest Regards,

Narcissa Black Malfoy

Toujours Pur


After reading the last letters, Harry stood and made his way into the bathroom. After a quick shower, he quickly dressed and made his way to the Ministry of Magic.

As he stepped out of the Floo Harry noticed that there were scorch marks on the walls and the Fountain of Magical Brethren was yet to be rebuilt. He walked to the security desk and placed his wand.

“Ah, Mr Potter. Holly, 11 inches, been in use for five years now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Harry strode through a crowd of people towards the elevator. Once inside, he spoke in a loud voice.

“Department of Mysteries!”

He heard the feminine ministry voice whisper a quiet, “How rude!”

Chuckling slightly, Harry stepped off the elevator and entered the department. As he made his way through, a few people began to stop him, but walked away as they caught sight of his scar.

When he entered the familiar circular room, he looked around. A door was open. Through it, he could see the raised stone dais the Veil was fluttering lightly. Harry stopped and thought back to the last time he had been in this room. No. He couldn’t dwell on the past – he had to be strong.

Clenching his teeth, he entered the room and saw Albus Dumbledore studying the arch with a forlorn, weary look upon his face.

“Professor, you should be glad that I wasn’t a Dark wizard. Constant Vigilance, Sir!”

“Oh, Harry. Please, call me Albus, I do think you have earned that right many times over.”

“Of course, Albus, I expect you are quite curious as to what has happened in the past two days.”

“Please do tell Harry, I am quite intrigued.”

The old wizard flicked his hand and two fluffy chairs appeared out of mid-air. He sat down and motioned for Harry to sit. Harry explained about the chamber unearthed within Gringotts, and continued his story up to buying a new wand.

“I, too, was called to Gringotts yesterday. Some ancient family Grimoires were discovered that we had thought lost almost a millennium ago. Around the same time, I felt a great shock of power that even I would be hard-pressed to match. I am guessing that was you, from what you have told me I can determine that you will be as powerful, and possibly even more, than I, after you have trained your Wizarding magic.”

“If I understand the ranking system correctly, I am less powerful than you. I’m only a High Sorcerer while you are a Grand Sorcerer. I don’t see how I could be more powerful.”

“Ah, Harry, you forget. The Ritual said you had yet to reach your Magicus Subolesco, the maturation of your magic. Your Subolesco will occur at a moment of intense magical concentration. I myself reached it at the age of sixteen during an attack in Diagon Alley by the then Dark Lord, Malwick. When you achieve Subolesco, I believe that you will, much as I did, progress to the stage of Grand Sorcerer. Your Environmental abilities will also be a great help in focusing your magic.”

“Oh. Sir, what exactly is an Environmental?”

“An Environmental is a wizard with the ability to manipulate the latent magic around him. You would be able to pull magic from your environment, hence the name. This would allow you to conserve your core magic, that is, the magic that resides within yourself. The ability will allow your spells to be significantly stronger.”

“But Sir, you aren’t an Environmental, and one of your Stunning Spells from the Battle was so powerful I could hardly breathe. How did you do it?”

“That, my dear boy, comes with a hundred and fifty years of experience.” Dumbledore chuckled. “The ability is within everyone, you must simply allow your magic not to ‘bleed’. Have you ever noticed in class, how a fellow student’s spell will light up the air around it leaving a trail?” He waited for Harry to nod yes. “That was the magic escaping the spell causing it to become less powerful. With your Environmental abilities, it should be much easier for you to control magical bleeding.”

The two Sorcerers sat in conversation for the better part of an hour before parting. They had agreed to train Harry in magical control.

As Harry walked back through Diagon Alley, he made his way back into the marble building that was Gringotts. Inside, he was immediately ushered towards a cart and was on his way towards his family vaults. After a long, breathless ride through the caverns the cart stopped.

“Vault 115, the Potter Family Vault. It opens for a Potter only, place your hand on the door and command it to open.”

Harry stepped out of the cart still a little green from the trip. He approached the thick wooden door and placed his hand upon it. The door clicked as numerous locks released and then swung open with a cloud of smoke escaping into the deep caverns below Gringotts. When Harry stepped inside the vault, he was stunned. The entire vault was situated in a cave of bedrock and resembled a large library, with shelves upon shelves of filled coin bags, jewels, weapons, books, and other curios.

At the front of the vault, upon a pedestal, sat a glass-topped box. Harry approached it and again felt tears flow to his eyes.

Inside the box sat various medals and awards with his parents’ names engraved upon them. He slowly lifted the lid and ran his finger along the names on a pair of Order of Merlins. In the centre of the box sat a gnarled claw upon a piece of parchment. When he picked it up, he was assaulted by a strong sense of magic. He blinked and saw that the claw was glowing with a bright sky blue light.

Picking up the parchment he read an elegant script that was his father’s.

Harry,

If you are reading this note, your mother and I have perished in protecting you. I am sorry for leaving you so early in life. I look down at you while reading this – you are chewing on a stuffed dog given to you by Sirius. I hope that he will provide you with the love you need growing up.

I have left the Potter Estate in great order for your Inheritance. The claw you are holding has been passed down to those worthy in our family since the time of Hogwart’s founding. It is the Raven’s Claw. The life’s work of Rowena Ravenclaw, given to her nephew Gregory Potter, is a means to help re-structure the mind. It allows for faster learning and memory-recall. The incantation ‘Incipio Magus Mentis Edificium’ will activate the talisman.

I Love You,

Father

Harry placed the note and the shrunken box in his robes.

On the pedestal, previously unnoticed was a large book with the Potter Crest upon it. Opening it, he saw that it was a magical inventory/recall book. He began tapping his wand to all of the useful items, which instantly flung themselves off the shelves and into a large trunk.

Harry had retrieved a great number of robes and cloaks, many of the books taken were on Ancient Runes and Wards (the hereditary skill of the Potter Family). Harry also took various amulets and protective talismans.

He left the vault and was on his way towards the Black family vault.

In the Black family vault, Harry found many of the same items that had been located in the study at Grimmauld Place. He gathered books on Dark Magic, and on Ancient Blood magics. Among them were titles such as Darke Magicks – A Concise Guide, Black Arts – Familial Spells of the House Black, and Highe Bloode Magick. Harry also gathered almost two-dozen basilisk-hide battle robes along with a selection of war staves.

When he arrived at the Warren Family Vault, number 10, he was in awe at the size of it. There were books on demons and warlocks, rare potions ingredients, and ancient books on Atlantean Battle Magic.

Taking only the most valuable of items, he returned to the surface and exited into Diagon Alley.

When he entered the now full Alley, Harry was met with stares of pity and remorse. Confused, he continued back towards the Leaky Cauldron when he was hit in the back of the head with something.

“Hey Scar-Head, are you sad now that ickle Weasel-poo isn’t able to service you anymore? It looks like the only person he’ll have for company now is Lockhart!” Came the voice of Draco Malfoy.

The entire crowd around him stopped moving; they were silently watching the exchange between the two young men.

Harry turned slowly and saw a smirk upon the other boy’s face. When Harry looked down an issue of the Daily Prophet sat at his feet. A picture of Ron Weasley lying in a hospital bed was on the front page. Harry picked it up and began to read the story.


The Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley – A Family name Returns with Vengeance

By Jonathan Paglam

Last week in the now infamous Battle of the Ministry, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, led a group of friends in an effort to foil another of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s plans.

The group, which included Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ginevra and Ronald Weasley, entered the Department of Mysteries and began a battle outnumbered by a group of Death Eaters.

Sometime during the course of the battle Ronald Weasley, 16, (a Hogwarts Sixth-Year) fell to an attack by unknown creatures kept in the Department. Upon returning to their home on 1st June, he fell into a comatose state. After arriving at St. Mungo’s, it was determined that the attack has left Ronald in a state similar to that of the renowned Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom (who were tortured into insanity).

At approximately 4:30 p.m. yesterday, a message was delivered to every Pureblood family’s home. The House of Weasley have oathed a Right of Vengeance, in doing so they have recalled all of their vassals and are currently in the process of rebuilding the Weasel’s Den, the Ancient Fortress where countless Dark wizards and witches met their downfall.

This reporter hopes that many families will follow their actions and openly oppose the Dark Lord. It is only by acting together as we did in centuries past that we will defeat this evil. (See The Ancient and Fierce House of Weasley – A History, p. 5)

As Harry read this, his face darkened. The Death Eaters had done this to his friend, his best friend, locked in a mental ward. He looked up at the still smirking Draco Malfoy. Harry felt something rising within him, he was angry, and someone needed to pay, someone needed to feel pain.

A sharp wind picked up around him, his robes billowing behind him. There was an ominous silence as the crowd looked on. His eyes began to glow a bright green as a visible aura appeared surrounding him like fire. With a sharp jab, he raised his wand to the sky. In a deep, magical voice he intoned something that sent chills down the spines of everyone in Diagon Alley, and made the evil in Knockturn Alley shriek in pain.

“I, Harold James Evans Warren Black-Potter, do hereby decree as Lord of House Potter, Lord of Ancient House Black, and Lord of Ancient House Warren – the wizard known as Voldemort is thus sentenced to death. The Families of Potter and Black hereby recall all subjects and Vassals to a state of war. May those who serve him feel the wrath of the ancients upon their souls!”

The nimbus surrounding Harry had begun to shimmer and swirl with red. Bolts of electricity sparked from his eyes as he looked towards the sky. A bolt of lightning streaked towards the sky and exploded with a sonic boom. Harry let his hands fall back to his sides.

As he looked at Draco, who was now bowing before his Lord Black, electricity was still sparking out of his eyes, which had turned a solid emerald, and his hands. With a slash of his wand, Harry disappeared in another flash of lightning, leaving a stunned crowd and a crater in the ground.

 

-Witchcraft-

-Lessons and Life-

Draco Malfoy was in an excellent mood. He had just been to Gringotts where he was informed that his father had designated him as Lord Malfoy in the event of his imprisonment. Draco was also unfathomably happy about the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. Weasley was in the loony bin; there was nothing that could make this day better. As he strolled through Diagon Alley, the paper hooked under his arm, he looked at the faces passing him by.

‘Fools, the Dark Lord will kill them all for opposing him. Disgusting Mudblood, don’t walk so close to me! Who is that? Potter? This could be fun…’

Draco had spotted a wizard wearing rather expensive-looking robes walking towards the Leaky Cauldron. At first glance, the wizard appeared to be nobody of terrible importance. However, Draco quickly recognised those green eyes and wonky glasses, and readied himself for probably his finest moment in degrading the Gryffindor.

Draco threw the newspaper at the back of Potter’s head – hearing it hit with a dull thwack, he smirked.

“Hey, Scar-Head, are you sad now that ickle Weasel-poo isn’t able to service you anymore? It looks like the only person he’ll have for company now is Lockhart!”

Potter turned around with an incomprehensible look upon his face. It was one of an old man, the thin lines around his mouth deepened as he frowned and picked up the paper.

Draco recognised a symbol on the breast of Potter’s robe. A Thestral, the symbol of his mother’s family. Draco wondered idly what Potter, a lowly Mudblood, was doing wearing the crest of a noble family on his robes. As Potter read through the paper, Draco noticed the slight tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the small vein in his temple that seemed to bulge with the beat of his heart. A sickening silence washed over him, and Draco felt suffocated as the air began to thicken with magic.

Draco saw the paper drop to the ground as he breathed heavily, still smirking. Potter looked up sharply at him as a sharp, cold wind began to spiral around him, making his shimmering robes flutter and wave about.

Draco’s eyes flashed to Potter’s hand, as his wand appeared as if from thin air, those same grey eyes widened as he saw the ring on Potter’s hand. The ancestral ring of the Black family – Harry Potter was a Lord of higher station than he. Draco looked quickly back up to his Lord’s face, watching as his eyes narrowed and became a solid emerald colour, literally sparking with electricity. A bright green light surrounded Potter, making him look as if on fire. Potter sharply raised his wand towards the sky, and in a booming voice said something that made Draco’s teeth ache with pain.

“I, Harold James Evans Warren Black-Potter, do hereby decree as Lord of House Potter, Lord of Ancient House Black, and Lord of Ancient House Warren; the Wizard known as Voldemort is thus sentenced to death. The Families of Potter and Black hereby recall all subjects and Vassals to a state of war. May those who serve him feel the wrath of the ancients upon their souls!”

As Potter said this, a small, quiet voice spoke in Draco’s ear, ‘He is your Lord, as Head of your Mother’s family you owe him allegiance over the Dark Lord. Family is the utmost power.’

Draco looked in awe as a bolt of lightning flew from his Lord’s arm through his wand and into the sky. In a moment of quick decision he crossed his own wand over his heart and kneeled before the only person he would ever remotely serve. Another crash of thunder was heard, and when Draco looked up Potter was gone. Leaving only a smouldering crater in the middle of Diagon Alley, and a crowd that was quickly dispersing.

Draco quickly stood and portkeyed to Malfoy Manor, where he was immediately dived at by a small, regal looking owl.


Enchanter Lord Malfoy,

You are hereby summoned to a meeting of the Wizard’s Council promptly at 3:00 p.m. on the 14st of June 1996. The council will convene at Salisbury Plain, tap the altar to descend.

Lord Emrys

Head of Wizard’s Council

The Most Ancient and Triumphant House of Emrys

‘Well,’ Draco thought to himself, ‘This should fare interesting.’


Jonas Trimble was a lonely man. After a small incident with a cursed teakettle falling into the hands of his Muggle neighbour, he was demoted to a lowly position in the Improper Use of Magic Office, under old Mafalda Hopkirk.

Earlier that week, the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, had approached him. Fudge had requested the Jonas report any magic in Little Whinging to him directly, without sending any notices. This was an odd request, as Little Whinging was recorded to have no wizards or witches in residence. Jonas saw nothing wrong with the request, and seeing a possible promotion for a job well done he had immediately requested the monitoring position for Surrey, London, Sussex, and Kent. With the exception of one Master William Brook getting a hold of his mother’s wand, nothing of importance had happened in the last three months, until now.

Jonas was sitting at his desk reading a copy of Teen Witch Weekly, a secret passion of his (the cover disguised as that of The Quibbler), when a red light began to flash on the oak desk in front of him. A second later, a loud siren began to buzz as various instruments activated and began taking measurements and recordings.

Jonas bolted out of his lounging position and activated the button in front of him to summon the Aurors; audible alarms only went off at an incredible amount of power, generally a sign of dark activity or illegal duelling. He ran over to the giant map covering the wall of his monitoring station and activated it.

A bright red blip was flashing in the middle of London for about a minute, before it promptly disappeared. The magical map registered it as an Apparition and tracked it to the most unlikely of locations, Little Whinging.

Eyes widening, Jonas copied down the address and sent it to the Minister’s office.

‘I wonder what that was, and how Fudge knew!’


Petunia Dursley, of Number 4 Privet Drive was worried. For the past fifteen years she had carefully watched her nephew, as he grew up malnourished, ignored, and oftentimes abused at the hand of her husband Vernon. For fifteen years she watched as he stayed strong and survived, for fifteen years she had begged Vernon to treat Harry as his own son, after all wouldn’t Lily have treated Dudley as a son had the situation been reversed?

It had been Petunia’s interference that kept Harry in the ‘valuable’ cupboard under the stairs, rather than the empty space behind the tool shed. It had been Petunia who petitioned Vernon to allow Harry into Dudley’s second room, and to allow him to attend his school. She had watched as Harry came back each year with a weary look in his eyes, and a definite sag in his usually energetic self. She had received a report of the year’s events in addition to the usual mark report given to every child’s parents each year. Vernon had taken great pleasure in burning these reports, but not before Petunia had carefully copied his marks into her hidden journals.

When they had arrived at King’s Cross to take Harry home, she had taken in what could not be recognised as her nephew any longer. The once bright-eyed energetic boy with an incessant spring in his step had changed drastically. He no longer looked forward when he walked, but slouched his shoulders and watched his feet as they shuffled along towards the parking garage.

Inside, Petunia’s heart was breaking for the only remnant of her long-deceased sister. That night when they arrived home Vernon had asked Petunia for the annual report so he could burn it, she simply replied that she had anticipated and already done so, pointing to a few ashes in the now open fire grate. Satisfied, Vernon grunted and went upstairs to bed.

Petunia had received the yearly notice, sans grades after they had arrived home. She had felt tears well in her eyes as she read the reports of what happened to her nephew this year. She vowed to let Harry know that she did all she was able, to keep him happy and safe.

However, yesterday morning when she had been sitting at the kitchen table sipping her tea and waiting for him to come downstairs, she saw him come down the stairs with a silvery piece of fabric. She had watched as he looked at his surroundings, shook his head and disappeared underneath the cloak. She had let him leave, and now she was worried that he would never return. Petunia had made a grave mistake in ignoring Harry to his face, and she would never forgive herself if something were to happen to him.

As she stood washing the dishes from supper, she gazed out the window aimlessly, without any thirst for what Mrs Next-door was doing in the room visible to the kitchen. After drying off, she turned around to exit the kitchen when an almighty sound of thunder was heard. She turned to look at the sky, which was still clear and left no sign of a storm.

Petunia ran to the front door and opened it, hoping to see clouds in the distance, what she did see made her blood run cold. In the middle of a smouldering crater lay her nephew, his now long hair dishevelled around him and his eyes closed.

She ran out to him and dropped to her knees. The blackened dirt was burning her legs through her light dress. She picked him up into her lap and wiped the ash from his face, cradling his head she silently prayed that he wasn’t dead. A few seconds later she felt him stir and open his eyes. She pulled him to her chest and hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face.

“A – Aunt Petunia? Are you alright?” He coughed.

“Don’t you ever leave without telling me again, you had me so worried! He could have gotten you!”

Petunia let him go and helped him stand slowly. She was trying to help him into the house when a tall black man appeared from the side garden.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” She demanded of the tall man who was obviously a wizard.

“I’m here to warn Potter, the Aurors are coming.”

“Wh – What? Why?” Harry said, looking up to see the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“Someone tipped off Fudge, he’s on his way to personally break your wand for Underage magic use with a small platoon of Aurors – they’re expecting trouble.”

“Well they should! What with that fool slandering my nephew in such a manner this past year, I have half a mind to take my pot-spoon to the side of his head!” Petunia snarled, her eyes flashing angrily.


“Yes, well, I’d best be off, I’m not supposed to be here. Dumbledore says to stay inside the house until he arrives and not to surrender your wand.”

“Thanks, Kingsley, don’t worry. Fudge won’t get anything out of me.”

With a small Crack! Kingsley disappeared from Privet Drive. Harry released himself from his Aunt’s tight grasp as he stood upright, wincing at a small pain in his back.

‘Probably from landing on my back I suppose…’

“Why are you so worried, Aunt Petunia, I know you hold no love for me. So why are you acting this way?”

“Harry… I… I’m sorry. I’ve tried my best for Lily, but Vernon won’t have any of it. I’m not a strong person and I failed you. I promise you I’ll be a better aunt to you, I love you like a son and I wish I could have told you before now.” She said shakily.

Harry looked at his aunt with a dumbfounded expression on his face. His aunt, Petunia, had just told him she loved him as a son, as his own person, as Harry.

He reached out and pulled Petunia into a hug as she sobbed into his shoulder. She pulled away and looked at him, the eyes that were so dull a moment before had begun to brighten again. Both of them, aunt and nephew, smiled at each other for perhaps the first time they could remember.

As if on cue, a resoundingly loud Crack ran through the quiet street followed by whispered orders and the sounds of boots on pavement.

“Harry Potter, you are hereby under arrest for breaking the Decree for Underage Wizardry for the third time, and for Apparating without a license, there is also a charge for suspected use of the Dark Arts. You are to surrender yourself and place your wand on the ground!” Came the joyful voice of Cornelius Fudge, The Minister of Magic.

“Fudge, this is private property of the House Warren, you are trespassing on my land. You will leave the premises with your Aurors immediately!”

Petunia and Harry were standing on the front stoop of the house, watching the portly man walk up the lawn escorted by three Aurors. In a moment of rage, Petunia walked up to the Minister and promptly punched him in the face, breaking his nose. The Aurors, who immediately began listing her offences, grabbed her.

“You are under arrest for assaulting a member of the Ministry, and for aiding a wanted criminal in resisting arrest.”

Harry pulled his wand out of his robes as his anger rose again. Watching the men roughly grab his aunt and drag her off the drive, he pointed the wand at the two men holding his aunt as wind began to pick up again. Harry flicked it towards Fudge who was keeled over in pain, holding his bloody nose and immediately rose into the air floating towards Harry.

With an air of menace around him, Harry approached the Aurors who had stopped moving, a glimpse of recognition ran through his mind as he saw the face of one who was holding Petunia particularly hard.

“I suggest, Auror Dawlish, that you release my Aunt immediately. I also expect that your team will vacate the premises for violating the land of an Ancient House, and falsely arresting members of said House.”

Harry saw the two Aurors eyes flicker from him to Fudge (who was still floating behind him), to his Aunt, who they promptly released. She proceeded to stand up, dust her self off, and slap each one of them.

“How dare you handle a lady that way? You despicable men! Harry, release the Minister please.”

“I expect, Minister Fudge, that you will not intrude on private property again, the next time you do my wards will not be very pleasant for you. And I assure you as Head of House Potter, that the wards will leave you unable to sit behind your desk for the next month.” Harry said, allowing the Minister to fall to the ground, “I should also point out that as Head of my Family I am exempt from Underage Wizardry Laws.”

While Fudge was being helped away by the Aurors, who were systematically Disapparating, Harry and Petunia returned to the house. Before entering, Petunia turned to Fudge with a scowl on her face.

“Minister, please tell Madam Umbridge that she made a terrible mistake in crossing me, and that there shall be legal action against her in regards to my nephew’s safety over this past year.”


After a lengthy discussion with Vernon on the dangers and advantages of Harry being able to do magic, he reluctantly agreed to allow his nephew to stay for a few weeks (although, Harry was required to cast a few discreet calming charms to prevent his dear Uncle from soiling himself).

Harry had gone up to his room. Too tired to change, he pulled out the gnarled talisman that had been passed down through his family. As he held it, the Raven’s Claw lit his small room with a visible aura of pale blue. The shadows cast almost seemed alive, and as he recited the incantation they grew as the light was pulled in tight to the now floating claw.

A loud raven’s caw was heard as the claw attached itself to the base of Harry’s skull. That was the last thing he heard as the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive swirled into darkness.


As he awoke, Harry noticed that there was no longer a sharp pain at the back of his neck, but a dull throb between his temples. He sat up, blinking his eyes, pulling brand new glasses onto his face he felt around for the object that had caused such pain in the first place. Lying beside his pillow were the Raven’s Claw, a small parchment, and a small bottle. Picking up the note he read it under his breath.

Dear Harry,

Your father is an inconsiderate moron. When he let me use that thing he conveniently forgot to mention it left you with a throbbing headache by the time you woke up. I’ve charmed the claw to provide you with this note and a bottle of headache potion for the next morning. Take this as a lesson. Never use a magical device without thoroughly researching it first.

All My Love,

Mum

His breath hitched in his throat. Harry gentle placed the short note on the bedside table, and downed the potion. A warm feeling enveloped his head as the potion began to work.

Harry stood in the room and looked around at his meagre surroundings. Sighing, he enlarged his trunks and took out a thick book he had purchased the day before on Conjuring and Advanced Transfiguration.

When Harry had started on the fifth chapter he was pacing the room, book in his left hand, and practising wand movements with his right. Still muttering incantations under his breath, Harry had not noticed the elderly man who was sitting atop his rickety desk until a slight cough alerted him to someone’s presence.

“Ahem, Constant Vigilance, Harry,” said Dumbledore with a small smile. “I believe that last spell has emphasis on the second ‘r’.”

Spinning around, Harry apologised with a sheepish grin and put his book down.

“Albus, I’ve actually just woken up, do you think you could do a little… Erm… Re-modeling while I go shower?”

“Of course Harry, it won’t take very long.” The aged sorcerer said, rolling his sleeves. “Run along, there’s work to be done today!”

After a brief shower, Harry had donned a pair of new black trousers, with a well fitting t-shirt. He looked almost Muggle, if not for the anti-wrinkle and self-cleaning charms weaved into the thread.

As he entered his room, the first thing he noticed was the newly painted walls, the second thing he noticed was the four-poster bed, and the third was the small training area, where Dumbledore was currently arranging the contents of his trunks, every so often he would pull out a book or an object and jump with excitement.

Sitting in a plush leather chair, Harry watched as his mentor pulled out a long, straight piece of wood with a purely clear crystal set at the top. With one look at the battle-staff, he nearly dropped it with excitement.

“H – Harry, do you know what this is?”

“It’s a battle-staff sir, I’ve twelve in total. What’s so important about it?”

“Harry, these are original battle-staves,” Dumbledore said as he carefully put them in a large display case along the wall. “They were gifted to only two families by the Elves. The Blacks and the Weasleys, the Warrior Families. They are recorded to act as amplifiers for Battle Magics; this would allow one wizard to attack a large group of enemies at once without draining extra power. These could be very useful in the future. I will have to ask Arthur to search his vaults for the second set. Only 24 were made, it is impossible to create more.”

Once finished setting up the training area, Dumbledore examined Harry’s wand and nodded in approval. Motioning for him to sit down, they sat cross-legged on the padded grey floor.

“The first thing you must know about Magical Control, is that magic is everywhere. There is not one place on this planet that is entirely devoid of magic. Your nature as an Environmental is to utilise the magic around you, by supplementing your natural ability, it is far less likely that you will tire during periods of intense magical concentration.”

“Excuse me, but how do you know all of this?”

“Harry, my boy, there is more to being a Hogwarts Headmaster than the title. Do you think previous Headmasters have not had similar situations?”

“Oh, of course, sorry. Please continue.”

“Thank you, the first exercise we must use is a basic Occlumency preparation as I’m sure you’re familiar with. Please close your eyes and begin the Flame and Void exercise.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Harry looked towards Albus with a hard look in his eyes.

“I’m afraid you will have to describe this exercise for me Albus, the only Occlumency training I’ve had is ‘Clear Your Mind’.”

“Indeed, I shall speak to Severus about this. This is the exercise to clear your mind. You need to close your eyes and picture the thoughts in your mind. Picture a spark among the thoughts, and slowly guide them into it, fuelling the flame. Allow the flame to grow until you see nothing, but a void, concentrate on the void. If you feel a stray thought, allow it to rekindle the flame and restore the void.”

Albus watched as the young man’s face grimaced within his thoughts, slowly he watched as the grimace turned into a slight frown, and then to calm face.

“I am going to slowly lower the Suppressor Charm. Visualise the magic that begins to seep inwards as a fog, a colour, water, anything. As it begins to cloud your void, I want you to visualise it leaving the void, let it create a wall around your void.”

Harry was sitting in darkness, it was empty, and it was boundless. Occasionally, there was a small speck of dust, but it immediately flew towards him and incinerated. Slowly, he felt a coolness touch his feet, it began to slowly flow around him, and it began to suffocate him. He was lost in the void when he heard a distant voice.

“Push it away, make it a wall around you, you are in control.”

With a small grunt he began to push the feeling away from him, he allowed it to solidify around him, caging his void. The coldness seemed to wrap around him, like a second skin. In an instant there was nothing left but Harry, his wall, and his void.

“You may open your eyes, Harry, I must admit this is very good progress. Not many have been able to so efficiently control their mind. I do believe that your Environmental shields will be quite sufficient as long as you are conscious. If you aren’t very tired, I believe we can begin working on channelling magic for your spells… Harry?”

Still consumed with the calming feeling of the void, Harry absently nodded a silent yes. For the next sixteen hours, Harry worked harder on his magic than he had in his entire life.


For a week, Harry was subjected to the most intense magical training since the worldwide threat of Grindelwald. Over this week, Grand Sorcerer Albus Dumbledore had given Harry training equivalent to his last two years at Hogwarts, and helped the younger sorcerer gain mastery over his Environmental abilities.

During his nineteen-hour long days, Harry had been studying the hereditary magic of the Potters, Warding. By combining his wards with cast runes, Harry was able to set specifics of a ward more efficiently than a simple warding spell. If he used full concentration, it took Albus about ten minutes to full dismantle Harry’s Anti-Apparition wards.

Although Harry had been learning at an alarming rate, he was still having trouble with Blood Magic. To successfully cast this magic Harry would have to perform a blood ritual with a member of the Black family. The one spell he had been successful with was the Tutela ex Minuo, the Shield of Blood. It was a lesser form of the blood wards that were protecting him from Voldemort at Privet Drive. The shield required the caster to bleed on themselves, or whosoever they are to protect. After reciting the incantation, it protects against physical (force, flame, lightning, etc…) and chemical (such as acid) damage.

One of the most interesting lessons Harry had been given by Dumbledore was the one of Sorcerer’s Apparition. When he asked Albus why he had Apparated in a bolt of lightning, the man’s eyes lit up and he began to smile. During that lesson, Harry had learned that Sorcerers, if they so choose, are able to Apparate with the aid of an element (in Harry’s case, Chaos) – Dumbledore himself had an affinity for Fire. While Harry was learning these skills from Dumbledore, he had also been secretly studying the books of Atlantean Battle Magic, which Albus had forbidden him to read. While practising with these magics, Harry had begun to practise duelling.

At the current moment, Albus Dumbledore was sitting in the now familiar seating area of Harry’s room. He had been watching Harry’s progress over the past week. Harry had dedicated himself to working, just as Albus himself had after Grindelwald killed his own parents in 1940. The question he had just been asked, was one he was not expecting, it was not possible for Albus to teach Harry the skills he had requested.

“Harry, I’m afraid that you cannot learn Wandless Magic.”

“But Sir, you use it, why can’t I!”

“It isn’t as simple as that Harry. Usually when an Ancient Blood comes of age, at the age of 20, their father will perform a ritual with them that allows them to use ‘Wandless Magic’, which is in reality Elemental Magic.” The elder sorcerer explained seriously. “We are unable to cast spells with this magic, but are able to manipulate the elements, for example, to conjure or transfigure wandlessly, I utilise the Earth element and tell it to create an object, or change one into another. Likewise, any levitation or summoning is done with the Air element. In normal circumstances your father would have performed the ceremony after the discovery of your heritage. There is no one else who can perform the ritual.”

“I see,” Harry replied lightly, sighing he leaned back in his chair and silently entered his void, when he was in his void; Harry felt nothing, no pain for Sirius, no remorse for his parents.

“However, I have contacted Bill Weasley and he has agreed to train you with your battle-staff. He will arrive sometime tomorrow morning. I’ll stop by in a few days to discuss the Council meeting, goodnight Harry.”

And with that, Albus disappeared with a slight Pop. Harry took a deep breath, it was a great disappointment that he would be unable to perform the wandless ritual, but then again, as he saw it Voldemort had no father to perform the ritual for him either. A small tapping at the window snapped him out of his thoughts. Walking over to the window, he remembered the letter that he had received the first night of training.


Wardmaster Lord Potter,

You are hereby summoned to a meeting of the Wizard’s Council at promptly 3:00p.m. on the 14th June 1996. The Council will convene at Salisbury Plain, tap the altar to descend. As a representative of three houses, you will be referred to as Lord Potter, but still control the other two seats. You are required to have a Magical family member (usually next in line) as a second. Narcissa Black Malfoy has been chosen as yours. Any questions may be forwarded to your Headmaster.

Lord Emrys

Head of Wizard’s Council

The Most Ancient and Triumphant House of Emrys


Opening the window, he let in an elegant looking hawk owl, which dropped the letter clutched in his beak on the nearby desk and left. Slitting the unfamiliar red seal he opened the letter to find a familiar neat print.

Dear Harry,

Sorry we haven’t written before now, as I’m pretty sure you know Ron is in the Hospital, you should go visit him. My parents and I are staying at the Burrow this summer. I’m not sure if you were aware, but the Weasleys had their name re-instated on an Oath of Vengeance.

The fortress is coming along quickly with all the help we’ve had from the goblins. Apparently, an old Wardmaster family is going to be at the Wizard’s Council next week, I think Mr Weasley is going to ask them to help ward the Weasel’s Den.

Harry, I – I’m sorry about Sirius, I know you were close but please don’t push us away, and I need you now that Ron is… Try to stop by the Burrow sometime; Headquarters has been relocated here after the old one shut us out.

Mr and Mrs Weasley have been training Ginny, Percy, Charlie, the Twins and I. The twins were given a book that belonged to their uncles, they haven’t been seen around lately and I’m not sure what they’re up to. I have to go help strengthen a ward, please write back.

Love from,

Mione

Reading over the letter he sighed, he had hoped it was from Remus, since the first letter Harry had sent, nobody from the Order had seen hide or hair of him. Hastily scribbling a reply, he sent it off with Hedwig when another four owls flew in and dropped letters. Harry slouched into his chair and began to read again.

My Lord Potter,

As Vassals to House Potter, we the Houses McGonagall, Goshawk, and Greengrass affirm our allegiance to the Ancient and Beloved House of Potter. As Vassals we are at your command. We have jointly agreed to meet on the date of 20th June at Godric’s Hollow, if it is agreeable with your Lordship’s schedule.

Honour and Life,

Michael McGonagall
The Elder and Honourable Clan McGonagall

Miranda Goshawk
The Elder and Loyal House of Goshawk

Constantine Greengrass
The Elder and Valorous House of Greengrass


My Lord Black,

As Vassals to House Black, we the Houses Snape, Vector, and Bulstrode affirm our subservience to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. We await your will. If it is convenient, we are prepared to meet your Lordship at the Black Manor on the 21st June.

Toujours Pur,

Severus Snape
The Elder and Malevolent House of Snape

Wilhelm Vector
The Elder and Shrewd House of Vector

Petrus Bulstrode
The Elder and Temperate House of Bulstrode


My Lord Warren,

As Vassals to Ancient House Warren, we the Houses Flitwick and Viridian reaffirm our alliances to the Most Ancient and Powerful House of Warren. A meeting has been scheduled at the Ruins of Castle Warren for the 6th August. If this is inconvenient please reply.

Blessed Be,

Filius Flitwick
The Ancient and Nurturing House of Flitwick

Vindictus Viridian
The Ancient and Vengeful House of Viridian

Dear Harry,

We must admit it was pretty surprising, waking up to an owl delivering mail, but then again when your days are spent fighting demons and warlocks you tend to become a little immune to weird things. We have only been aware of our powers for just under a year; they were unlocked after our Grandmother died.

We would be happy to have you stay with us for a while. It is kind of a big house after all. We’re also interested in this Wizard stuff, our Book of Shadows is only dated 1634, I’m sure yours has a lot more to say than ours does. If you can be here between noon and 1 o’clock on July 1st, it would be great.

Your Cousins,

Prue, Piper, & Phoebe

With a loud groan, Harry jumped into his bed and decided to deal with the rest of it tomorrow. As he fell asleep, his mind was turned to his friends, when would he have time for Hermione and Ginny? When would he see Ron? A small tear escaped his eye as he thought of his fallen friend.

‘Never Again.’

 

An explanation to the Blood Caste System:

Blood Caste System

Ancient Blood (2000-1000 years old) - Ancient Houses

Warren - Potions Masters

Dumbledore - Lore Masters

Ollivander - Wandmakers

Emrys - Leaders - All families are Vassal to this House (House of Merlin)

Black - Warriors

Pureblood (1000-800 years old) - Greater Houses

Potter - Wardmasters

Malfoy - Enchanters

Zabini - Tailor and Armours

Nott - Blacksmiths

Longbottom - Herbologists

Weasley - Warriors

Bones - Governors

Flitwick - Warren Alliance

Viridian - Warren Alliance

Elderblood (800-200 years old) - Lesser Houses (Vassals)

McGonagall - Potter

Goshawk - Potter

Greengrass - Potter

Snape - Black

Bulstrode - Black

Vector - Black

Crabbe - Malfoy

Goyle - Malfoy

Parkinson - Malfoy

Malkin - Zabini

Wood - Zabini

Perkins - Zabini

Abbot - Nott

Boot - Nott

O'Malley - Nott

Fudge - Longbottom

Palmer - Longbottom

Borgin - Longbottom

Moody - Dumbledore

Sinistra - Dumbledore

Lovegood - Dumbledore

Hopkirk - Ollivander

McTavish - Ollivander

Blair - Ollivander

Prewitt - Weasley

Taber - Weasley

Chadwick - Weasley

Crouch - Bones

Patil - Bones

Brown - Bones

Commonblood (200 years and younger)

Most of the Population

Mudblood

Duh...

This system has mostly fallen apart, due to the dissolution of the Council in the 1600's when the Wizengamot and Ministry were formed to govern. Some families have been lost (Crouch, Prewitt, Hopkirk, Black) and others have fallen out of favour with their allegiances (Borgin). A Lord may give a lost families title to anyone, e.g. Amelia Bones could make the Commonblood Kingsley Shacklebolt head of House Crouch, making it the House Shacklebolt, turning Shacklebolt into an Elderblood along with his current and future family. For someone like Harry, his Lordship of House Potter would transfer to his first born son, House Black to his second born son, and Warren to his last son, or first daughter. House Emrys is basically King. Everyone is subject to them (Merlin was part of this House)

 

I just read the teaser for this story and I am liking how it turned out so far. can't wait till you upload the entire chapter.

 

You already know my thoughts on the story =)


Nice additional teaser, I can honestly say I was impressed by it.

 

I'm starting to like this story. Did you write this before Prue died or after?

 

the story will be like....post S1 so Prue is alive because i hate Paige with a passion... my hd crashed last week so i lost the latest chapter :evil: i think my beta has it so i need to find her email again...AND to top it off i dont have MS Word anymore GAH OH!!! and ive noticed and had pointed out to me that there are some GINORMOUS plot holes waiting to get bigger so before i release chapter 5 i need to fix the first 4

 

Love it

 

thanks i've been kinda lazy lately and have only been working on the fics seperatley...i've yet to reach Witchcraft...on the upside... I HAVE been watching S2 of Charmed (yay dvds lol) so i have some good plot ideas

 

Updated the first four chapters 8) Chapter 5 has been sent off to the beta and is ready to release the second I get it back

 

*pulls out the cast iron skillet of pain and smashs Fallen over the head* Dude update the fic damn i have reread it 5 times it is great just please please please of beg of ye don't make it harry/ginny

EDIT: Please don't double post the same thing, - srispg

 

your beta must one exceptionally slow person to take more than 24 days to beta something...

 

nah, i got it back a while ago...we usually send it back and forth a couple of times...but i havent gotten around to sending it back to her :?

 

Finally got around to read this story.

Nicely done FallenLegacy, looking forward to the next chapter.

 

i know you said u like to bounce this story back and forward with your beta...but there's only so much you can correct..just a question... after bouncing this with ur beta for over a month is there any of the original chapter left?

 

I don't know if you're an author yourself, but beta'ing is generally about the small things, grammar, flow, formatting, vocabulary... and usually has nothing to do with plot unless the author has a very weak plot. Chapter 5 has been posted at ff.net for all who're interested.

 

Liked the new chapter.

 

post

good story hope it gets updated soon