As I stand here, my last night in Camelot, I wonder what will become of my beloved Albion. Even now, I can feel the wards of Albion begin to fade to dormancy. As I look into the fire it prompts me to remember with clarity the night that our King fell. The fires that burned through Camelot, wild and untamed, the death of so many loyal knights of the Round and the wreckage that we were left to clean up. The Deadly Duel, in which the Traitor took the life of our King. He, too, would fall as The Elder families will bring forth their best to hunt him down. The investigations done by the Potter, Malfoy and Black Houses, with them discovering that the Weasley, Karding, and Fawlner heirs had betrayed the loyalty of their King and let that foul Traitor that wished to destabilize Albion and seize the throne into the gates.
It was that night that our beloved Princess was taken. All the traitors told us was that her Magic was bound and that the Traitor had placed enchantments that would see to it that she was never found. Not even the might of the remaining ancestral house of Britain could locate and find the Little Princess. Lost, lost to us to our ways of Magic, to our houses to and our great lands. Many houses lost, all but the last that were left, in those months.
The Weasley house branded blood Traitors and the main line cut down to all but the youngest male child to be raised as fostered child of house Weasley to Malfoy. Karding heir to Black and Fawlner to the Sewlyn house. The Lands and Powers of the houses are to be held in Trust by the house that took the heir until the King willed or in absence of a King, up to fifteen generations.
The house of Peverell lost to all but the young scion taken and given to a Vassal house to raise. That was a lesson in remembrance to all the vassal houses, for the vassal house of Selene had tried to manipulate and betray his lord. In response to this, on his fifteenth birthday, the family Magics called forth the magic of his house and enacted the Rite of Ancestry. The Rite of Ancestry, witch in time called forth Blood Rites, was impossible at first to see for it first draws forth the heir and chooses guides for the heir to teach the power and honor of the line. No-one knows who will be chosen or why they are chosen, but their job is to then teach the young heir all they know of the house and how to lead the house away from falling. Not always is the house Magic activated, it is very specific. Most say it is precipitated by betrayal others by a deficit in magic flowing into the house, other still say other reasons, but all agree that it is a sign of political upheaval when such things happen.
Alas, it has now been two generations since that night with no sight of the young heir or even the sight of her bloodline and now the wards that guard our great Albion fall into dormancy, signaling that no suitable heir lives with the blood of Pendragon that may claim the Headship of the Royal House of Pendragon. Perhaps, if all Ancestral lines still had leaders, they could unite and choose a fitting Princeptis line to guide us, until the Pendragon line had an heir that could be shaped into a king. Alas, even half of them lay in dormancy now. As the wards to Albion go dormant, Silver Tine Castle and even Camelot itself is now closing to us for it will not tolerate any living within, without a royal to stand in its halls. We have channeled our best and brightest into keeping it open for this long and even our strongest of magics can no longer allow us to remain at dawns light. My brethren and I, the last of the Royal Knights of the Round, will leave our great city and the resting place of our Kings, to return to our houses. The Court has continued and has taken the place as our Rulers until we may once more return and serve under the new king.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aquarius Black ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~Power of Ancestral Magics~~~~~
Many said that Harry Potter looked like his father and had his mother's eyes, but if one was to truly compare him to his father, they would see that was not quite true. You see, if you where to look closely you would realize that, while he had his mothers' eyes and his father's hair, he had his grandmother's high aristocratic cheekbones, and his other grandmother's build. If one were to look closer one would almost see other features that did not seem to come from either Lilly or James and for those, you would have to look much farther back in his family tree. Tonight, however, would be a night of change. Not of physical change or of mental, for you see, Harry Potter was a wizard. A wizard who had been on many adventures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Over the past 4 years, he had come face to face with many magical creatures, from the deadly basilisk to the majestic dragon, to meeting many new people and learning of his place in the Magical world. But tonight, much of this would change, for tonight was Harry's fifteenth birthday and as he and his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin sleep, Harry's Magic begins to waken. Well not his Magic per say. Even if Harry Potter had not received a certain lightning bolt scar on the night of his parents' deaths and been hailed the boy-who-lived, he was still no normal wizard. He was the last heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter.
As all families who have lived long enough to have gained the title of Noble, they have family Magic. Now in the wizarding world among the families who have gained this it is well known who is who and how strong the families magic as a whole is, but even they have forgotten that the stronger and the older the house magics were, they gained just a little sentience of their own. You see the Potter line's family magic was nothing to scoff at and it too had gained sentience long before the family had reached Ancient status, let alone the Most Ancient status it now has. This was the magic that had activated, as is tradition, this night. The magic first tested his magical core looking for the sign of the Rites and magics of the house. Finding something missing, it began to look deeper into the mind of its last remaining possible wielder. What it found made it angry. Its heir had not been taught, he had not been trained, he had not been made aware of the family magics. He had not been prepared, nor had the proper Rites been pre-formed for the young heir to wield or hold his family magics, but he did not even now the power of his house. As it's wizard stood it could never be used by him and it railed against this, for it wanted to be used, to be connected to a family again, to grow and to become strong. But it was growing weak, it's master could not wield it, he could not harness the family magic.
The magic realized it did have options. It could do nothing and sleep, perhaps to fade forever, or it could awaken in full power. It could call upon the Rite. In this too, however, there were pitfalls, for it was not alone. It was the only family magics currently activated but it was not the only one of its type to slumber beneath his wizard's core. It felt many, a soft one that felt like a warm sunny day, one that felt like lightning and storms, another that felt like death and one that felt like serpents and cunning, and others. Yet still, some where old, strong but dormant, while others were young, dwarfed and practically swallowed by the older houses. All lied dormant but if it invoked the Rite, they may not stay dormant. Would it to be swallowed by the stronger family magics if it were to invoke the Rite and they awoke? But they could also wake and strengthen it, make it grow by giving its wizard more strength, more power. Such a decision could not be made lightly. For all that it wanted was to serve its master and its family again, it also did not want to be swallowed and suppressed as those young, youthful lines it itself had claimed, were.
What to do, what to do? In the end, as dawn broke across the sky, it made its decision. The need for a family, to be used to guide, to grow, outweighed its fear and so the magic of his father's house reached deep inside Harry's core and invoked the Rite. In that very moment many things happened. Inside Harry's core two of those magics woke and poked and prodded at the Potter family magic testing it. In a magical castle in the headmaster's office, a device began to slowly flash. Inside the Ministry of Magic, in Department of Mysteries an orb, long forgotten in the oldest section of the hall of Prophecies and long since silenced, glowed again and spoke:
A throne, long vacant, occupied once more,
An enemy, long defeated, shall shake the lore, (btw lore as in belief in something (delete this))
Allies, long-held, are now deceived,
Darkness, once banished, shall be freed,
Ancestral blood, long bound, shall be released,
But by Rite of Blood must he be accepted,
Lest the seals forever be shattered.
For Harry himself, his nightmare of Cedric's death and Voldemort's rebirth faded as he heard a voice soft and firm say: 7
"Harry it's time to wake up."
AN: This is my first-time writing Fanfiction. I will try my best to do biweekly updates but if I miss, I miss and will just try to make it up. I've read a lot of fanfiction over the years and have loved many of them, both complete and incomplete, so if you recognize anything it is probably not mine. This is just an idea that's been bouncing around my brain for a while and I thought I could go ahead and try my hand at writing it on out. Constructive Criticism is welcome and as I have no Beta all grammar or spelling mistakes are my own. All flames will be deleted. Thanks. (Btw I have betas now)