A/N: Many, many thanks to paperclipminimizer for beta-ing and checking my timeline, as well as answering all my questions about Harry Potter. Thanks also to Juri, FrostandSilence, and everyone on Sketchydoodles' Vorthos server for listening to me rant about this thing as it took shape.

Prologue

Eight years before Jace Beleren arrived at Hogwarts…

"Hurry up, can't you!" Bellatrix Lestrange snarled at the nearest Death-Eater, a short, fat wizard who cringed away under her sudden attention.

"I-I'm sorry, Madame Lestrange, we're working as quickly as possible." He ducked his head. "As you know, the charms are numerous, and our best records indicate they were put in place by Merlin himself."

"The Dark Lord does not care for excuses," Lestrange said sweetly. "Work faster, or I will see that you can no longer work at all."

"Yes—yes, Madame, of course." His face was invisible behind the metal mask he wore, but dark sweat stains were visible along the armpits of his dark robe. He turned back to the work crew. "Faster!" he called, in a voice fearfully climbing to a new octave.

As Lestrange watched, the circle of witches and wizards tightened around the massive block of stone that lay in the center of a fairy circle, almost hidden by moss and heather. As someone took a too-eager step forward, hot white light flashed, and the unfortunate witch screamed, staggering backward.

"Stupefy!" Bellatrix snapped her wand out and knocked out the woman who had tripped the trap, not allowing her to leave the circle. The stench of burning flesh filled the air. "It seems we missed one," she said lightly, tracing an intricate rune in the air with the tip of her wand. Blood red smoke seeped from the fairy circle, swirling slowly and lazily toward her. "Interesting," she squealed excitedly. "Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, you have so many beautiful tricks up your sleeves!"

"Madame Lestrange—Karloff is—"

"Yes, yes, that's not important now. I think this is the last one." She focused, licking her lips, mouthing the words to an especially complicated spell. In some ways it was lucky these protections were so old, because it meant that in the centuries since they had been put in place, a number of people nearly as clever as Merlin had worked out ways to get around them. In other ways, well—some of these were so old that they had been caught unawares. Bellatrix's lips curved into a smile. She could certainly appreciate the viciousness of some of Merlin's techniques. And they hadn't lost too many people.

The smoke darted upward suddenly, and she caught it on the end of her wand, grimacing faintly. A burning sensation ran up her arm, halting at her Dark Mark and twisting around it. She shook off the pain, flicking her wand again, and now a streak of white crept down her wand and into the smoke, diffusing slowly at first, then faster and faster. There was a loud, explosive noise, and the ground beneath the fairy ring cracked open. Bellatrix let out another excited screech. She'd been right. The Dark Lord would be so pleased with her!

"Eorthstyr," she gabbled happily, jabbing her wand at the stone inside the fairy ring. "Get back!" she snapped at the surprised Death-Eaters, and they scattered.

Beneath the pressure of her wand, the stone in the center of the fairy ring melted to mud and began to drain away, revealing a casket of clouded glass several feet below the ground. Etched into the center was unmistakably the seal of Merlin, and beneath it, a few lines of something that was probably Welsh. Bellatrix frowned in concentration, whispering beneath her breath as she translated, "Do not awaken the sleeper in stone." She laughed. "Sorry, Merlin, I don't take orders from wizards who have been dead for more than thirty years." She stepped forward, ignoring the mud that clung to the bottom of her robe, and held out her wand, knocking it loudly against the casket three times. "Rennervate maxima!"