Chapter 10
“Best Friend?” Snape finally asks, after silently watching Malfoy walk away. Ron gulps and slowly turns to him.
Snape has one eyebrow raised, but the familiar expression on his face no longer feels right after having seen the way he looked at Malfoy. Ron steeled himself at the thought and warily replied, “Definitely, you should let Martin know he’s been replaced.”
His lips make a small movement, his amusement apparent despite all of his attempts to keep that to himself. Ron’s own lips quirk up even as Snape turns his back to him and resumes his usual fast pace.
Ron is quick to follow after the man, chuckling as he easily catches up and matches his pace. He remembers when he wouldn’t have dared to walk beside Snape, nevertheless actually keep up with the man.
The sound draws Snape’s attention, “You certainly smile and laugh enough to be like Martin. Tell me, whatever has you giggling so much, Mr Weasley?”
“Nothing much, sir. “ Ron replies, doing his best to stifle his laughter when Snape gives him a look for it.
Snape nods to the woman in the portrait guarding his office as they pass her and walk into his classroom, Ron grumbling to himself under his breath when he spots the Cauldrons waiting patiently for him.
Snape’s sigh brings him out of his self pity, “that, too, is much like Martin.” The way he sat in his chair was so different to his usual grace, Ron tilted his head at the man, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in his pale, almost ghostly skin and the dark bags under his eyes. At the look, Snape, in a rare show of indulgence, elaborates, “Martin very rarely speaks of himself. I am only now realising just how much I do not know of him.”
Ron shuffles awkwardly and Snape heaves a sigh.
Clearing his throat, Ron says, “I’ll get started with scrubbing the Cauldrons.” But he stands there for a while more, unsure of exactly what he was waiting for.
“Mr Weasley…” Severus began hesitantly. “Despite, how you may appear, I am aware that sometimes you possess some semblance of intelligence. Therefore, you might have… understood what was revealed here some weeks ago. That I am, much to your dismay, I’m sure, perhaps more on your side than you might have realised.”
He paused, “knowing that, perhaps you might find it easier to accept when I say… I apologies, sincerely, for my actions towards you and for the way my words have hurt you.”
“Merlin’s beard, today is a weird day.” He muttered under his breath unsuccessfully and Severus raised an eyebrow at him. Louder he said, “thank you, Professor Snape. I don’t think I’m as shocked as I would have expected. I think, deep inside, I knew that you’ve saved us more than you’ve harmed us. But, Professor, if I may, as nice as it was, I don’t think it’s me you should be apologising to.”
Severus turned his gaze from the boy in front of him to the window, where he could just about make out the arched wing of the protective dragon, “yes.” He agreed.
“So, I’ll umm- Cauldrons.”
Severus turned back to the boy. They were growing so fast, he thought to himself as he took in the boy, comparing it to the one he remembered just 4 years ago. “No.” The boy looked back at him, blinking rapidly. “Mr Mal- Draco was quite right to say this detention was one that was wrongly assigned, though you should endeavour to correct your language. You are dismissed, Mr Weasley.”
The boy gaped at him, “dismissed, sir?”
“Yes, I’m sure you have better things to be doing than scrubbing some Cauldrons that will be cleaned again after anyway.”
Severus watched with an amused gaze as the boy blinked and looked between himself, the cauldrons and the door.
Weasley tensed his shoulders before relaxing, “rather, Professor, I don’t have anything to do.”
~~~~~~~
Seeing the statue Harry had previously described in person brought just as much anger as Hermione thought it would. What she hadn’t expected was for the helplessness that turned her stomach and dried her throat to be felt as immensely as the anger.
It is disgusting. She repeated again and again in her mind and then murmured it aloud again and again under her breath.
It is disgusting that it stood to represent the beliefs of a Ministry that was supposed to overlook the entire magical community.
It is disgusting that everyone here, solely made up of humans, casually walked past without a single care in the world.
It is disgusting.
“How disgusting.” The voice coming from Martin was one that was chilling, for a moment her mind blanked and she feared he was speaking about her, but Martin’s dark gaze had narrowed onto the statue.
His figure was all straight lines and sharp edges, his lips thin and pursed, hands clenched and knuckles white.
“Yes, so disgusting.” She agreed and watched as Martin flinched at her voice, apparently having forgotten her presence.
He gave her a solemn nod and turned back to the statues, keeping his eye on it as he gently guided her through the rushing crowd.
“What can you tell me about what that abomination is meant to represent?”
Yes, talking was easy, Hermione thought desperately, “The statue, dubbed the Fountain of Magical Brethren consists of two focal points - a witch and a wizard - and other ‘lower’ beings - a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf - looking up at them in ‘awe and adoration’. The fountain itself supposedly represents the harmony in the wizarding world.” It certainly represents the current wizarding world. “All proceeded from the fountain were given to St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and injuries.” she sniffed.
“Mother, turn my cheek - but, oh…” Martin hummed a low note, “Fountain of Magical Brethren? Very well… Harvey!”
The familiar elf popped into existence in front of them and rolled his eyes, “Emrys, can you do nothing without me?”
“Harvey, I’ve changed my mind, can you please arrange for me to give that History lesson Elliot was asking for, oh, and send the Minister an Emrys summon for the lesson.”
Harvey grinned, “With pleasure, Lord Emrys.”
“Harley!” Martin then said.
Harley was dressed similarly to Harvey and was only slightly taller then him, However, Harley’s entire body was shaking with energy, his eyes glinting with a demonic sheen.
“Harley gets a bit restless sometimes, young miss, nothing to worry about.” Harvey whispered to her.
“By decree of Emrys, I call for that statue to be destroyed. Set up a donation for each and every wizarding hospital in Albion and let the Minister know that we have arrived.”
Harley grinned maniacally.
The two walk undisturbed even as the sound of the statue breaking causes alarm amongst the crowd. Martin gently guiding her up to a reception desk where they are guided to a waiting room.
Inside the room, which was rather plain, a man sat on an armchair opposite a sofa. On the table between the seats a huge old book was facing the man.
“I hope you don’t mind, but it’s protocol to register all who meet with the Minister, yes?”
She peeks at Martin’s Expression, just barely catching his smirk before it vanished. So the Ministry was interested in learning about the Emrys family then, she thought.
“Of course, please, proceed.”
Martin smiled agreeably, letting her sit before sitting beside her, his very presence comforting.
“First, Miss Granger. Your wand, please.”
At Martin’s nod, Hermione carefully passed her wand to the man, watching as he waved it over the book, which opened at a new page and started a ‘Granger’ page and listing out her name, wand type, which Minister she was meeting with and why.
She is quick to take her wand back, smiling politely at the man.
“And you, Mr Emrys?” Inside she raises an eyebrow at the term of address, but Martin just seems amused as he passes his beautiful wand to the man.
The man pauses at the sight of the wand, visibly in awe at the sight of it and holding it carefully for a second more than he had with hers. Martin eyes her and taps his nose, hiding his smile.
She struggles to stifle her giggle when the man finally clears his throat and waves the wand over the book again.
Nothing happens.
With a raised eyebrow he goes to wave it again but is alarmed when a loud sound comes from above. The man and Hermione look up at where the sound was from, Martin lounging patiently without a care.
Hermione gasps as she finally notices the shelves of even older books neatly lined far above her. From the highest shelf, a scroll flies out and unravels. Its pages falling and falling until it reaches their height, where, in neat cursive, magically being written is the name Lord Emrys and all the same details as it did for Hermione.
When it finished writing, the scroll neatly folded itself back up and fell into Emrys’ palm, who held it out to the man, clearly showing the intricate seal on the scroll.
“…Very well, Lord Emrys.” The man gulps, “If you go through that door, you’ll find the Minister waiting for you.”
“Thank you.” Martin said, which she echoed easily, “Have a good day, Sir.”
Martin looked at her one last time, only opening the door when she nodded confidently back.
She was ready.
~~~~~~~
Professor Aurelianus finally turned to the box beside him and opened it, from it numerous objects flying out and into position around the room. Harry turned to the Professor and gave him a solemn nod, from now until necessary they will be working in complete silence.
Remembering the notes the Professor had provided, Harry slowly walked to a black changing screen, noting from the corner of his eye the professor walking to a white one directly opposite. Behind the screen. Harry stripped off his clothes until he stood naked before a basin of water, neatly folding them besides his wand as he went. Systematically he washed his hands, his face and then his feet, carefully putting on the white robe after.
Already dry, Harry stepped out from behind the screen and walked towards the centre of the room, sitting down an arms reach away from the chalice that was placed there. The Professor had finished sooner than him and was patiently waiting in front of his screen in a similar black robe.
Once Harry had sat the Professor began the ritual. Using his right arm to neatly hold his left sleeve up as he went, the Professor slowly released crushed Dragon scale powder from his left fist, carefully drawing a wide circle around Harry and himself.
Switching his arms, the Professor then circled around again to draw the first level of the Runes with the powder in his right fist. Closely watching the Professor, Harry made sure to pay close attention to the Runes that were being drawn, reiterating their intentions in his mind.
First, the Oblivion Rune - ᚨ, Intended to keep non-participants from noticing the ritual and possibly disrupting the balance. Next, the Convergence Rune - ᚱ, which had two purposes. On its own, the rune would act as a anchor for anomaly-magic so as to not contaminate the Magic of the Ritual and together with other Runes (Ancient Glyph Rune - ᚩ, Mystic Sigil Rune - ᛞ, Coven's Nexus Rune - ᛟ, Chronicle Rune - ᚸ, Celestial Gateway Rune - ᛉ, Oracle's Whispers Rune - ᚦ, Elder Tree Rune - ᚣ) would act as a communication beacon that would alert certain practitioners of the Old Religion in case anything went wrong with the Ritual. The Abyssal Ward Rune - ᚲ, was the protective barrier that when broken wrong would activate the second purpose of the Convergence Rune. Finally, the Professor drew the Ethereal Veil Rune - ᛈ, which brought about an only slightly visible golden dome around them that softly glimmered when the light from outside hit it, this veil will act as a shield, keeping the Magic Void in.
Harry stood and faced the Professor who now stood opposite him an equal length away from the chalice, they bowed deeply to one another and moved to opposite edges of the circle as the Professor prepared to draw the second level of the Runes directly onto the veil. For this section Harry would move in synch with the Professor to always be standing as far away from him as he could be at any given time.
The Harmony Weave Rune - ᚦᛖ, to establish the circle as sacred by weaving balance and unity, the Celestial Anchor Rune - ᛚ, to ironically enhance the potency of magic within the circle, the Sanctuary Ward Rune - ᛋ, as a final protective barrier to contain the energies invoked, and the Elemental Circle Rune - ᛃ, to act as an aide when invoking the guardianship of the elements and finalising the harmonious environment.
Harry silently took a deep breath, now standing in front of one of four long golden candles that each came up to his chest. This was the stage where Harry himself joined in, his task being to light the candles at each cardinal point and incite the incantation with the Professor who was still opposite him. Harry was currently standing North of the centre which would symbolise Earth, East was for Air, South- Fire and West- Water.
Holding his sleeve away Harry snapped his fingers above the wick of the candle, pure intention lighting the candle.
“In the embrace of the fertile soil; from it stability and grounding. May the essence of Earth guard this sacred space.”
They walked slowly but surely, Harry felt as if he was in a trance.
East. Snap. “As the gentle breeze whispers secrets; on it clarity and communication. May the breath of Air cleanse and carry our intentions.”
South. Snap. “In the dance of flickering flames; with it transformation and passion. May the flame of Fire ignite the fervour of our magical workings.”
West. Snap. “As the tranquil waters flow; by it healing and intuition. May the fluidity of Water guide our journey within the sacred space.”
They walked by each other to sit opposite each other, once again cross legged, finally now directing their attention to the chalice.
The chalice contained moonwater and was surrounded by Mugwort, Rowan berries, Black salt and Obsidian.
The Professor pressed a quill made from a feather of a vulture onto the surface of the water, its nib was coated with blood although Harry was not told whose blood it was. Harry gently held the quill with him, keeping his grip loose so the Professor could draw.
For the Third and final level of Runes, only two Runes would need to be drawn, the Echoing Silence Rune - ᛖᚲ and the Voidforge Rune - ᚾᚦ, all the while the Professor softly spoke words in the Language of the Old Religion that gradually increased in volume.
As the Professor spoke and they wrote together, one by one, in the order they were lit, part of the flames jumped onto the tip of the feather, burning it until they came to a stop with the bloody nib falling into the chalice.
A solid black ball floats out of the chalice then, taking with it every drop of water.
When they place their hands onto it, there is no visible change to their surroundings other then the flames shining a little brighter - now acting as a beacon.
But something in Harry breaks; he is empty in a way he never has been before, his entire body shakes even as he wraps his arms around himself and curls into a ball, there are tears streaming down his face.
“Magic has yielded; the void is open.” The Professor whispered.
~~~~~~~
One side of Severus’ lip quirked up, “in that case, Mr Weasley, perhaps you might be interested in a game.” He waved his wand under the curious eyes of the child, a chess board soaring out from the rooms behind him and setting itself up on his desk. “I’ve always wondered if what you achieved in your first year was luck or genuine talent.”
“You’re on, Professor!”
What follows is the most enjoyable game of chess Severus has ever played and though he wins it is only by a small margin.
Suddenly, as the teen reaches out for a friendly handshake, a slow clap fills the air. They turn to look at the wall where the sound is coming from only to see a shocking figure now in the previously empty portrait.
“That was quite the game. You play very well, young boy.” Salazar Slytherin said, ignoring the two shocked faces looking at him.
“Sal! We said we’d go together, have you already forgotten, you bastard!” Godric Gryffindor rushed to join the other man in his portrait, the portrait obediently becoming bigger to fit the extra man and the two women who followed at a more serene pace.
“Godric! Calm yourself when in front of company. Salazar would have had to go before us to open passage for us anyway.” Helga Hufflepuff tutted, Rowena Ravenclaw cackling beside her.
“Yes, Sister.”
“Honestly, I forget sometimes that ‘Ric is older than us.” Ravenclaw loudly whispers to Slytherin, who grins back to her.
“You are Severus Snape, then, yes? We’ve heard so much about you.” Hufflepuff informs him, smiling kindly despite looking at him in a way that makes Severus feel like one of his own lab specimens.
“Look, Sal, he’s one of yours!” Gryffindor shouts excitedly behind her.
“Now that Emrys is not in the castle, we thought we’d take the opportunity to get to know you.” Hufflepuff explains, but Severus is distracted by the conversation behind her. The boy beside him, still gaping as he looks between the Four Founders of Hogwarts.
“Oh, don’t be a fool, ‘Ric. Look closer, he’s more ‘Wena’s than mine.” Slytherin pouts and Severus sneers at the words.
Rowena Ravenclaw looks closer at him with narrowed eyes, her face lighting up the next second, “It is as you say! He is one of mine, Emrys has good taste.”
Severus clenched his jaw, “despite my blood status, you will find that I posses all of the Slytherin qualities with pride.”
Salazar groaned, “Crone’s damnations, not this again! With the current Hogwarts’ system, perhaps you do qualify for the Slytherin house, boy, but I was thinking along the lines of how we originally sorted students - which was the better method - by their magical affinity!”
“It’s true, and you, Severus Snape, have an affinity towards the Air Elemental! Back then, you would have been sorted in my house.” Ravenclaw smiled shyly at him.
“Oh and-” Gryffindor’s eyes darkened slightly before he laughed, “Non-Magical or not, Sal’s wife and two kids would have made him sleep under the stars on a winters night if he ever insinuated he was better due to his blood status.”
Slytherin smirked at the other man, though the grateful glint never left his eyes, “Instead, I much rather enjoyed watching my Lady swatting you on the backside with her ladle.”
Ron finally snaps out of his shock from everything he’d just seen and heard and eyed his frozen Professor, who looked as if he was rethinking his entire life, as the founders bickered about who Salazar Slytherin’s muggle wife swatted the most.
“So, where would I have been sorted, then?” He asks and puts on his best brave face when the entire room’s attention turns to him.
Helga Hufflepuff smiles sadly at him, “In the end, despite all his complaints, there was a reason Themis agreed to change the sorting system as well as the Hogwarts’ curriculum. Because, back then… you would not have been accepted in Hogwarts at all, child.”
Kindly, Ravenclaw changes the subject, “So, tell us more about yourself, Severus Snape.”
~~~~~~~
On their way out, Hermione bows towards the dazed Minister and Martin closes the door behind them. Immediately, her entire body relaxes against the wall and she slides down it, ignoring Martin snickering at her from above. She groans.
“Come now, Hermione, cheer up! You did incredibly well, the Minister will definitely be working on your side.”
Even as he mind tried it’s best to nit-pick at how she had done, she was unable to in the face of Martin’s happiness.
“You did well, too, Martin.” She smiled up at him. “I didn’t understand half the things you were telling the Minister, but I think you really shocked him. He was dazed out by the time we were done! I bet his life flashed before his eyes.”
Martin and Hermione shared a laugh at the sight of the Minister.
Sighing softly, Hermione, peered at the laughing man. “The half I did understand… You’re a really important person aren’t you? And yet, unlike everyone else, you’ve done more-” Blinking up at the ceiling she sputtered, unsure of exactly what happened. One second she was looking at Martin and leaning her head on the wall and the next she was lying on the floor. It was as if the wall behind her had disappeared entirely.
Sitting up she looked around her and found herself in what looked like an entrance room.
“What is this place?” She asked.
Martin walked into the room with a huff, “How fascinating.” He eyed her and then smiled, “Why, It’s The Library of Alexandria, of course.”
“Of course.” She agreed before snapping to look at him a second later, “What?!”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Hermione. In fact, I think you’ll enjoy your time here. Come on, let’s see why The Library has appeared to us shall we.” He helped her up and walked her to a desk, where he motioned to two papers and a quill. “Simply, write down what you are most curious of and fly it to that wall. The Library will then open to you.”
Martin patiently waited for her to start before quickly writing something down onto the paper.
“What are you most curious about, Hermione Jean Granger?”
She tilts her head as she ponders the question, uncertain if what she answers will have an effect on the The Libraries welcome to her, finally, trusting Martin, she decides to be honest and scrawls out: The Old Religion.
The Library is a magnificent sight, her senses flooded with a rich sense of belonging that stayed with her even as she ran for her life from a scroll that acted more like a hyper puppy.
It is like that Hermione runs head first into Martin and falls back yet again, ducking down just intime to dodge the scroll, she watches with wide eyes as it continues on to slam into Martin’s waist.
Somehow still standing, Martin sighed at the giggling Hermione. He shook his head as he passed the scroll to her, “I believe this belongs to you.”
Hermione clutches at the scroll as she laughs loudly, the entire day catching up to her in that moment. “Th- Thanks, Martin!”
Hermione finally opens the scroll, still chucking to herself from her spot on the floor. As soon as she opens the scroll however, it releases a blinding golden glow and turns into a small hourglass that hovers in front of her, golden sand slowly beginning to trickle down.
She looks up at Martin in confusion only to see him waving down at her, “I’ll be here waiting until you’re done.” Is the last thing she hears before she yet again falls, this time through the floor.
Shaking her head at her luck she stands up and takes in the new room which consists of three walls full of books and an armchair facing a huge window with a view of a beautiful beach. She looks between the still floating hourglass and the walls of books, nodding to herself in acceptance.
Simply writing ‘The Old Religion’ was rather vague, after all. At least she hadn’t stupidly wrote ‘Everything”.
As she scopes the shelves her eyes catch on a peculiar author name, settling in with the book in her hand he spares a glance at the beach and begins reading, letting the narrative voice of Geoffrey of Monmouth, Court Genealogist of the Court of Camelot wash over her.
~~~~~~~
It takes him a while to settle, though try as he might he is unable to fully compose himself. In contrast the Professor sits calmly, hands planted on his lap and his back straight.
The Professor offers him a small guilty smile and Harry is thinks back to the single apology at the end of all the notes. Somehow he musters up the ability to smile back in a hopefully reassuring manner, but if it falls short then the Professor is kind enough to not say a word.
“I will now remove my blindfold.” He stated and Harry nodded back in acceptance, still unable to bring himself to speak.
The Professors movements are slow and controlled as if expecting Harry to change his mind at any moment, but Harry doesn’t and the Professor pulls off the blindfold, holding it in his hands with a white knuckled grip.
He opens his eyes and their eyes meet for the first time.
Professor Aurelianus’ eyes are completely bloodshot, veins incredibly prominent. His iris is so thin it looks as if he only has the pupil, which are constricted into small golden dots. Harry’s own eyes widen at the sight but before he can fully take them in, the Professors eyes shoot to his forehead, eyes locked directly onto his scar.
Harry hadn’t realised until that very moment, but now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t think neither the Professor nor Martin had even seen his scar nor have they ever talked about it to him. It is so unlike anyone he’s ever met since his 11th birthday, Harry is surprised he hadn’t noticed the fact before.
But now at the sight of his scar or whatever else the Professor is seeing with his eyes, Harry watches in horror as the Professor lets out a bloodcurdling scream, desperately pressing the palm of his hands into his eyes but to no avail as his blindfold had slipped from his grip in his shock.
Harry makes a broken movement to both cover his scar and pass the blindfold to the man, grimacing against the piercing noise. Apologies are streaming from his own lips now as finally the screams slowly come to a stop, leaving the Professor sweating profusely and greedily taking deep shaky breaths.
He runs his hands through his dripping hair to push it back and looks up with his eyes closed, Harry pathetically sits back, clutching the Professors blindfold as if it was a lifeline.
“I-I’m so, so sorry, Prof-”
“No. I’m sorry, Mr Potter.” He opens his eyes again, which try to roam over him but keep darting to his scar. “I wasn’t quite expecting to see such a… grotesque thing - pardon my description. Now the… good news, is that we can be sure of the type of magic you posses.”
Harry perks up, eager to move past what just happened if only for a little while, “Truly, Professor?”
“Yes, indeed.” The Professor determinedly meets Harry’s eyes, even despite the clear effort it takes to not be staring at Harry’s scar. Though he speaks of good news, his expression is as if he is speaking the opposite. “Rather than having Elemental Magic like myself, your Magic is definitely that of the Old Religion. We’ll have to speak more about it with Emrys, but this is wonderful news indeed.”
Harry smiles softly to himself, feeling strangely relieved to understand himself a little more.
“And… I think I’ve found what has been blocking your Magic… Mr Potter, Harry, have you ever heard of a Horcrux?”
~~~~~~~
Ron and Snape are back to their casual games of chess, now playing to pass the time until Harry and Hemione, and Martin and Professor Aurelianus return from their meetings. The chat with the Founders Portraits was at first stilted and awkward, with Snape being unwilling to talk about himself. The conversation flowed much easier though, when they started talking about Martin Emrys, with both parties being able to talk at length about the man.
“So…” Ron starts, unable to muffle the teasing quality of his voice. Today has truly been rather a weird day and he’s sure to be mortified tomorrow but… “I don’t think Martin will be that upset with me replacing him as your best friend after all.”
Snape plays his move and frowns as him in question.
Ron checks Snape’s King, “I mean… seems to me, you’d rather have Martin as your something else.”
Snape furrows his eyebrows slightly, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He replies in a deep voice
Checkmate. “The way I see it, it’s definitely not unreciprocated.”
Snape narrows his eyes at him, “and what, exactly, have you seen?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Sir.”
“Mr Weasle-” He cuts himself off with a groan, shooting up to his feet, “What now?” Snape waves his wand wordlessly and a door appears behind him.
From it two figures walk out and Ron stands up warily.
“Lucius, Narcissa. I gave you my Floo code for emergencies only and yet I see neither of you are currently on the brink of death.” Snape says dryly, standing slightly in front of him. Not to cover him, but subtly warn them, Ron realises. This was the beginning of a play of Slytherin politics, that Ron’s mind, still in chess mode, can barely piece together. No matter what Salazar Slytherin and the Founders themself say, Ron was convinced that Snape could not be anything but a Slytherin.
“Scion Weasley, Severus. I hope we are not interrupting anything.” Lucius Malfoy said, eyeing Snape’s beheaded King.
Ron makes a show of looking at Snape for permission, an action that was apparently too Gryffindor as seen in Snape’s amused acceptance. Ron then takes a step forward, now out of Snape’s shadow and ignores Lucius Malfoy, instead turning to Narcissa Malfoy. If it’s so obvious, he might as well be unapologetically Gryffindor.
Thankful, now, for all the times he was forced to play with Ginny he accepts Narcissa Malfoy’s hand and bows, kissing the air over it. He straightens his back and steps back to stand beside Snape, nodding at the two in acknowledgment, “Lady Malfoy, Lord Malfoy.”
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, then?”
And so begins a new game of chess.
White plays first, “Our… mutual friend had quite the lot to say about you, Severus.”
Blacks move. “Funny how all we seem to speak about is you, Lucius.”
“Is that so? I didn’t notice, he seems more worried about how you’ve been wasting your potential all these years.”
“Oh, no need to worry about me, Lucius. He gives me many projects to help me pass my time.” Snape smiled, “I imagine you are looking forward to introducing your lovely family to our friend.”
There's a pause and Ron’s lips twitch; that was a check. He’d have to thank Snape for teaching him so well later.
“You’re most welcome to be there on the day Draco debuts, Severus. I look forward to telling our friend about what a wonderful Professor you are to him, your latest lesson was particularly enlightening.” Ooh, safe for now, Ron decides, but not long until-
“Nothing he doesn’t already know, I’m sure. But I’ll be sure to tell him all about yourself and your achievements at the Ministry and the School Board.” Checkmate.
All that’s left of white is the Queen.
“Are you aware of Lord Emrys’ true name, Severus?” Narcissa Malfoy wonders aloud and Snape turns to he with a curious gaze.
…Checkmate?
“If all of us were to confess our truths to our friend, I wonder where we’d all stand.” She continues as if she hadn’t spoken before.
Unlike Lucius Malfoy though, Snape is easily able to continue as the black queen.
“An interesting thought, Narcissa. You would do best to remember where you are standing.”
“Oh, Severus darling, I more than anyone understand exactly what it means to stand in Emrys’ castle. I - we - do so willingly.”
“We are in agreement, then. Martin’s name matters not in the grand scheme of things.”
“I envy the way you can live life so easily, Severus.” She peered up at him through her eyelashes, Lucius Malfoy quiet by her side.
Snape looked down his nose at her, “Please, Narcissa. You do a truly admirable job despite your family circumstances.”
~~~~~~~
“A Horcrux, Sir?”
“A Horcrux is one of the few despicable Magics that don’t break any of the rules of Magic due to the balance involved in making one. To put it simply, a Horcrux is a piece of a soul that allows the creator to live on even after their physical body is destroyed, effectively making them immortal. Creating a Horcrux requires committing an act so heinous that it tears apart the creator’s soul, usually through cold-blooded murder. It was first invented by a Dark Lord of the Old Religion, Cornelius Sigan. Though I have never known a Horcrux to exist within another person…”
As the Professor spoke, Harry felt his stomach drop. His mother’s scream echoing in his mind as his mind flashed between everything he knows of his scar and Voldemort.
He feels nauseous when he finally reaches the conclusion, ears ringing too loudly to hear the Professor who was calling out to him worriedly.
It was all his fault.
“It’s all my fault.”
“NO!” Harry startles at the sudden denial that broke through the dark haze of his mind, “I don’t know how or why you have a Horcrux in you, Harry, or even whose it it, but it is not your fault. None of this is. As far am I’m concerned, I am now aware of the fact that someone has violated your soul and tarnished your magic and I’ll be damned if I allow this to continue. We will find away through this, Harry-”
“Voldemort.” Harry nods with a sneer, feeling true rage flare up inside, “It’s Voldemort’s fault.”
“Tell me more.” Professor Aurelianus says with a steeled gaze and Harry obeys. Telling him everything from the day it all began until that very second.
As the Professor listens to Harry’s story, there is no visible reaction. Finally Harry comes to a stop and a moment of silence passes between the two before-
“Fuck.”
~~~~~~~
Martin and Hermione stand facing the door 1 hour later, Martin’s face mischievous.
“So, what you’re telling me… Is that you’ve no idea what’s on the other side of this door?” She repeats flatly, barely managing to smother the urge to wipe Martin’s smile off his face.
“Precisely.” He nods, satisfied she understood. “That’s the fun of it.”
“And if we end up outside of Britain, your plan to go back home is…”
He had the nerve to shrug, “It will be fine, Hermione, I promise.”
She sighs, believing him despite how her brain wishes to argue more, “very well.”
Martin pushes open the door and motions her to wait until he goes first. She nods obediently, waiting as Martin peers out through the door.
She is startled when Martin rushes in and closes the door behind him, blocking it with his body as he smiles shakily at her.
“Perhaps- uhh, we should wait 3 more minutes until The Library moves again.”
Hermione feels a smirk paint her face at the sight of Martin’s nervousness, “No. I think this is the best spot after all.”
“We are definitely outside of - uh, Britain.” He warns.
“It’ll be fine, Martin, you promised.” Her mind was completely on board now and Martin pursed his lips as he stared pitifully at her. She raised an eyebrow and Martin slowly moved away from the door, letting her open it.
“I should have known, Severus does so love to call you lot the Trio of Horror.”
Hermione smugly pushes the door open and goes to walk out but Martin hurries to inform her before she fully walks out.
“You should know then, that we are about to walk into one of the only Druid settlements still active in the world, this particular one being the smallest in India. They have taken a vow of silence and will expect you to adhere to the same rules. If you are accepted, however, meet eyes with the leader an you will be allowed into their mental link, until then do not meet eyes with anyone.”
She steps out, not through a door, but rather through the flap of a tent. Immediately after she steps foot onto the soil, she feels the eyes of many locked onto her, though the clearing itself appears to be empty.
When Martin steps out behind her, however, the entire settlement seems to bustle with fervour. Instantly they a surrounded, with a small gap being created to give them some space. Without looking into the eyes of those who gathered around them, Hermione scopes the crowd, taking in the sights of their culture and their excited faces. Their eyes are mostly locked onto Martin, though they curiously peer at her too.
Martin clasps his hand on her shoulder to get his attention and points out an elderly lady whose intense eyes were locked on her, with a glance to Martin she met eyes with the lady.
‘Welcome, child.’
Comes a voice from inside her head. Though she heard it spoken in English, she is certain that that was not the language is was originally spoken in.
‘Greetings, Ma’am.’
The lady smiles kindly at her and nods, in the next second her mind is suddenly overwhelmed by the numerous voices of the entire crowd.
‘Emrys!’
‘Is it really him?’
‘Emrys is here!’
‘Mother, who is that with Emrys?’
Gently, Martin moves in front of her and brings her face up to meet his until their eyes meet. Only then is she given relief from all the voices and presences of the other.
‘Now when you meet eyes with any individual, you will open a private link between you and that person.’ He explained softly and she nodded, embarrassed that she had gotten overwhelmed so easily. ‘Take your time, Hermione, I’m here anytime you need a quiet place.’
True to his words, Martin stayed quiet until she nodded.
‘Lady Dhivyaa, thank you for welcoming us.’ He said a loud to everyone who silenced to hear him. Martin too spoke in the same language as the group, Hermione was sure.
‘Of course, Lord Emrys. You and Yours are always welcome with us.’ The Elderly lady said.
‘It is wonderful to see the community thriving.’
‘Indeed, Lord Emrys. Fortune favours us and now we are blessed with your presence.’
‘Argh!’ Martin’s entire body straightened and sharpened as the pained grunt wrang out in their minds, the group anxiously tuning to a tent.
‘One of ours is in labour.’ The Lady explained, before turning to Martin with a wide smile. ‘Is it not true that our Lord Emrys is trained as a physician, perhaps you might bless this new child.’
Martin smiled awkwardly back at her and eyed the newly excited crowd who were quick to flood their minds with agreements. Hermione nods and smiles when Martin looks back to her to check with her before he is guided into a tent.
Now slightly able to zone out of certain conversations, Hermione follows the crowd further into the settlement, sitting on a bench and watching as children play and adults go through their chores.
A girl her age comes up to her and taps her temple twice, ‘let’s talk?’
Nodding she looks into the girls eyes, ‘hello, my name is Vennila.’
‘Hello, Vennila. You have a very pretty name, my name is Hermione.’
‘It is my mother that is in labour, I’m very excited to meet my baby brother.’ The girl looks at the tent with stars in her eyes, ‘my parents have been very sad that her previous pregnancies haven’t lasted. It feels like fate to have Lord Emrys arrive now and I am very glad to have met you.’
‘I can’t imagine what that feels like, my parents had me quite late and I’m an only child. I think you will be a great older sister, Vennila.
‘Thank you, Hermione.’
‘Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?’ Vennila turns back to look at her and nods. ‘Why did you all take a vow of silence?’
‘So that we always remember the struggles our ancestors went through, although our silence is a choice we took, their silence was necessary for survival. Our Vow is thus; we will be silence in peace and contentment, and we will rage louder than a lion’s roar when Emrys needs us.’
‘Who is Mar-Emrys to you?’
‘To us, Hermione, he is our salvation.’
They sit in silence having broken their private link and tuned back in on everyone, in the moments of relaxation Hermione’s mind begins to wonder again, her thought becoming louder and louder as she finally thinks back on everything.
When her thoughts are loud enough to now be heard by others, they are kind enough not to ask her to silence her mind. A few adults even looking at her with pride at the direction her thoughts take her
When Martin arrived and claimed the title of Hogwarts’ owner, when Snape spoke at length of not being able to survive without Magic and yet Martin being able to easily. The Yggdrasil Harry talked about apparently being as old as Martin despite being the slowest growing Tree is existence and requiring immense Magic to grow. The mention of ‘Gana who once stole his magic. The sheer authority and weight the name ‘Lord Emrys’ held in the eyes of the house elves. The Emrys ‘family’ and the Ministries reaction to it.
The stories she read just now in The Library Of Alexandria - The damn Library of Alexandria.
Hermione is a seconds away from an epiphany she knows when Martin finally exits the tent, cradled in his hands a bundled babe.
‘If you will do the honours, Lord Emrys.’
Martin smiles fondly and looks back into the tent, apparently opening a private link before looking back at them shyly.
‘You all have such beautiful names in your culture, so I don’t fully understand. But I will honour you wish.’
He brings the babe and says, aloud, in his ear, loud in the silence both in the settlement and their minds.
“Myrddin”
The Guardian of Knowledge or the Guardian of the Old Religion.
“Myrddin”
The Salvation of our kind.
“Myrddin”
Myrddin.
Ma- lord Emrys passed the babe to the father and beside her Vennila rushes to her brother excitedly.
When she was younger, back when her father would read to her before bed, she had a favourite quote.
Lord Emrys looks up, smiling face searching out hers.
When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
They meet eyes.
‘Merlin.’
Merlin grins at her and sweeps into a princely bow, ‘pleasure to properly make your acquaintance.’