Hello and thank you so much for deeming this story worth a look-see. As you can see, it is the first story I have published on fanfiction and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. To be honest, your views and favorites, alone, make me happy, but reviews would make me even more happy. If you have any question about any of the little details, some will not be explained out right, then please just ask. Anyways, please review. Feedback keeps me writing. I will probably have the next chapter up within the next week, but I make no promises.

Also, you probably already know, but the Harry Potter universe, as in love with the world as I am, does not belong to me. That credit goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Note about the text:

example= spells/magical objects/ creatures from cannon

'example'=private thoughts

"example"=spoken words/thoughts spoken aloud

Note about the chapter: This chapter is, in actuality, more like a prologue. This story will be taking place in year two, but there was necessary information that happens here. It was the only way I could think of to clue you in with out boring you to tears, while at the same time bringing in some key players. As for 'The way to Bridging Empires' It's going to be a series and will include years two through six. Every story is completely mapped out and all there is left to do is get to writing. I will tell you now, there will be a lot of deviations from cannon and it will be epic. Also, you should know that, after year two, 'Harry' and 'Hermione' will be the two main characters. However, they will have nothing more than a platonic relationship. As for the romantic relationships in this series, there will eventually be a few, but they will take a lesser role. I will warn you now, you may, but will most likely not see them coming, and that's the way it will stay for most of this plot, if I do it right. If you like epic-adventure stories with a bit of mystery and a touch of romance, these stories are for you.

The wind whipped across the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, scattering leaves and whistling through trees of a dark and Forbidden Forest. If you observed closely, you would notice more life than usual on the grounds of Hogwarts. Just outside the forest line, you could spot the raucous dancing and fiery babble of the Jarveys. Within the borders of the forest, just near the line, you might spot a flash of white accompanied by the pounding of hoofs. These would be the unicorns. The black Lake could be spotted with a great whirl pool in the center with giant tentacles jutting out, waving about in a merry dance. The giant squid was clearly in a good mood. Near the bank of the lake you might also spot a few mermaids hiding in wait, for what was unknown. The whomping willow, though was the biggest shock. In spite of its name, it stood swaying gently in the singing breeze, and upon her branches rested a bright golden phoenix accompanied by a snowy owl. This was curious, but the only one to notice all these odd occurrences was the gamekeeper and keeper of the keys and grounds, Rubeus Hagrid. Of course the inhabitants of Hogwarts castle didn't notice the change, the expectant buzz, in the air or the strange nervous excitement among the sentient life forms living outside the castle. They were, themselves, far too excited, while others resigned, to pay attention to such small things as the weather or magical creatures on this merry occasion.

It was a new year at Hogwarts, and all recognized this year's significance. Hogwarts would not be welcoming just any students this year. This year, tonight in fact, she would be welcoming Harrison James Potter for the first time. Harry Potter, as he more commonly known, the boy-who-lived to be the vanquisher of the Dark Lord Voldemort, would be sorted into one of four Hogwarts houses tonight at the welcoming feast. Tonight's sorting would be marked down in history. So naturally, the staff, already on pins and needles, passed the time by making bets as to which students would be snatched by each house.

There was, however, one notable exception. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, grand sorcerer and chief warlock of the Wizengamot, and bearer of one order of Merlin, first class for his defeat of the dark lord Grindelwald, was excited, but he was also troubled. Neither were particularly unusual for the headmaster, in fact they were quite common, which was why he could often be spied pacing his office, as he was doing at the moment.

However, his reasons for being both troubled and excited often deviated from serious matters to rest within the realm of the decidedly odd. Often times he was excited over so small and insignificant a matter as a new shipment of lemon drops from his favorite muggle sweets shop. Although how said sweets were able to be shipped directly to a nearly unplottable and warded location, with out any one the wiser, was a small mystery to many. Perhaps, it should simply be attributed to how powerful a wizard Albus Dumbledore was. And being such a powerful wizard, he was awarded quite a variety of daily conundrums, many of which were settled quickly with out a worry. But, sometimes a mystery would come along that perplexed even him. As he was a great and powerful wizard, and being few and far between, it was these puzzles that often had him venting his frustrations at the complexity of a problem while battling his excitement over having, for once, something worth pondering over.

For this reason, he could be found pacing in his office instead of celebrating with his staff. Yes, he was just as excited about Harry's return to the wizarding world as the rest of them. He knew that boy was destined for great things. He didn't need Ollivander's news of Harry coming to possess the brother wand to Voldemort's to see that. Yes, he was troubled due to the threat to a powerful object, the sorcerer's stone, which could grant immeasurable riches and immortal life. And again, yes, he was worried about the presence of a dark being within the castle who he suspected was both possessing one of his teachers and after the sorcerer's stone. Yes, he knew about that; not much got past Albus Dumbledore. Yet, it was something else entirely that currently occupied his mind. There was a new mystery that had recently presented itself to Albus. Tonight marked an event that had not happened in over six-hundred years.

Not many people knew that Hogwarts castle was once a sentient being. Of those who knew, most assumed the castle's sentience was tied to the wards and had simply faded over time, as most spells and wards often did. This was only partially correct, and it was only the current headmaster of Hogwarts that knew better. He, along with his predecessors, knew both the facts and legend associated with Hogwarts castle, as they were passed down from one headmaster to the next after each were sworn to secrecy.

It was their job to know. Hogwarts castle was and is sentient. Not one of the inhabitants, aside from Albus would assume as such, since she hadn't shown her true power since the time of the founders, but he knew she was only sleeping. Emphasis should be put on was sleeping, since tonight, of all nights, she had chosen to wake up. All the portraits could feel it as well; her walls were positively humming with energy. The past headmasters' portraits, that lined the headmaster's office and knew of the significance of such an event, weren't any help, as they were equally as stumped as him.

This was truly a mystery. Hogwarts's sentience wasn't tied to just any wards, but to blood wards, it took the presence of an individual with blood of the founders to awaken Hogwarts. Even then, the individual would need to be 'deemed true' before Hogwarts could be awakened. So what did this mean? He knew the legend, of course he did. It was passed down to each headmaster as a message from the founders, and quite a foreboding one at that:

"A time will come for unity as darkness shall descend.

When that time comes, two of our number shall give you aid, for we have deemed them true.

They shall wield Hogwarts as a sword and shield against all those who are unworthy.

They shall both rise from darkness to rule.

Aside from this, we shall not disclose their identities, as their secrets are their own.

But, know this. When the time comes to reveal their lot, blood shall run and all those of disloyalty shall lie in ruin."

Their message was clearly a warning, one that troubled him greatly. Hogwarts carried within her walls the magic and essence of each of the four founders, as they ensured upon their deaths it would be so. It was their magic that kept Hogwarts the safe haven that it was. Their magic was intrinsically linked to the wards, making them near impossible to break, but now that she had awakened, their power could be used. In the wrong hands, possession of their power could mean devastation. The founders did say these two individuals had been deemed true, but what did that even mean? Would they be true to Hogwarts? Could the founders possibly be wrong? After all, Salazar Slytherin did create the chamber of secrets. That had been truly a disaster. He only wished he could know who they were.

At that thought, he stopped his pacing. It was almost laughable that he didn't think of this sooner. If any one were to know anything about them or the message, aside from him self, it would be her. Yes, this would work, it had to. She was close enough to the founders to know the truth as well. It was his only option, and if it didn't work, at least he could say he had tried.

Before he even realized he had moved, he was out of his office and across the grounds. He knew just where to find her, and it didn't take him long at all. One of the perks of being headmaster was the abundance of secret passages within the castle that only he could gain admittance to. Coming out of a passage behind the seventh floor tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching a stage of trolls to dance the ballet, admittedly one of his personal favorites, he spied her near a large window, peacefully gazing out at the grounds. The light of the moon filtered through her ghostly form, making her even more pale and luminescent than usual. Looking at her, his thoughts were temporarily distracted as he realized the moon being out meant the welcoming feast was drawing near. The first years and returning students would be arriving via the Hogwarts express soon. As he walked to stand beside her, he noted that perhaps he wasn't the only one here to have noticed this. She had chosen a window facing the Black Lake, which would afford a wonderful view of the first years as they made their trek, by boat, across the dark waters. Albus Dumbledore generally did not believe in coincidences, but he couldn't help but wonder why a ghost, who usually avoided getting involved with or even noticing the lives of humans, would suddenly show interest in this year's students to be sorted. That was a thing to ponder. He would have to keep it in mind for later.

"Hello headmaster. I had a feeling you would come to visit me this evening. I assume, by your presence, the castle has made her awakening known to you?"

"Indeed, I have felt her awaken, and please do call me Albus."

"As you wish, Albus, but only if you call me Helena."

Hiding his surprise at being offered any level of familiarity by a ghost, especially one as old as herself, he continued.

"If I may be so forward to ask, I was hoping that you may be able to answer a few questions for me. This is after all a rare occurrence."

"Hmm. Quite. Well, you shall ask and I," she paused as if to consider her response, "may endeavor to answer."

He carefully hid his amusement, knowing he should have expected such an answer. She was a Ravenclaw after all, and of all things, she had been known for her haughtiness and pride. Getting answers from her would not be easy, but Albus Dumbledore did love a challenge.

"Is the awakening of Hogwarts in any way related to the message from the founders?"

"'In any way' you ask? Then the answer to your question is yes, but I believe you knew that already."

"I was inclined to believe so, yes, but confirmation is always helpful. Can you tell me who the two are?"

"I can." He couldn't keep himself from leaning toward her with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "But I shall not. To divulge their identities so soon would be a grave disservice to all parties involved. After all, their secrets are their own, but at the moment, not, as well"

Letting out a small sigh of frustration, he recognized a hope dashed, but pressed on and asked one more question. "Can they be trusted?"

"A good question, you ask, but each person would tell you differently." She turned to contemplate him then. Perhaps she was merely deciding on what to say, but there was something in her eyes that unnerved him. He knew to pay attention to what she was about to divulge. For it wasn't often that a ghost showed their true feelings. It was even rarer for them to speak of them. Often they were aloof around humans, sometimes to the extent of mistrusting them. But here, in this moment, the eyes of Helena Ravenclaw held a story to be told and more emotion than he could comprehend, although he did try. With a single gaze, her eyes told a story of painful regrets, guilt, betrayal, and self-righteous anger, but also trust, devotion and hope. The emotions seemed so fresh and strong, he wouldn't be surprised if this story was the reason she was bound to this realm as a ghost. Before he could contemplate this further, she spoke.

"The founders trusted them, as did I. They were very dear to all of us, and very powerful. We were, the three of us, very close, always getting into some sort of mischief. Those were some of my fondest memories. Thinking back, it's funny really, as I could have died, and nearly did because of one, and my death can be laid at the other's feet. But, I no longer blame them, as I have had hundreds of years to think it over, and they did always mean well."

She turned away from his shocked face to look out the window. Albus was speechless, and that didn't happen often. He had assumed she would blame the Bloody Baron for her death, as he was the one who had murdered her, but clearly there was more to the story than what he knew. How exactly was he supposed to trust these two? Albus Dumbledore was known for giving second chances, but to have this much faith in two individuals that may or may not have caused the death of another, was a tall order. He couldn't help but sigh. He would just have to cross that bridge when he got there. Until then-

"Oh! Here come the first years." He, again, noted her unusual interest in the life of humans, before his eye was drawn to the group of first years, lead by the groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid, that were just now making their way across the Black Lake. He had just smiled fondly, before his attention was brought, quite suddenly, to the sound of shattering glass just down the corridor, to the right of where they stood.

Sybil Trelawney stood, stock still as a statue, with wide surprised eyes, just in front of a large golden door that faced the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls. Albus was, for a moment, perplexed at the lack of broken glass, before quickly surmising the answer. 'A disilusionment charm, then?' Sure enough, upon the floor, was the faint and transparent outline of a few whole bottles surrounded by what appeared to be a wide smattering of broken glass. 'Quite a few disillusioned bottles then? This is curious.' He knew his divination professor had a penchant for occasionally drinking herself into a stupor, but where was she taking these bottles, and why so many at a time. His thoughtful gaze wandered to the door that he knew led to the room of requirement before returning to her face, amusement shining from his twinkling bright blue eyes. His amusement was dashed, however, when he realized she was not simply surprised at being caught in such a shifty predicament. With dawning comprehension, he quickly noted the rigid posture, wide unseeing eyes, and rapid wheezing breathing. These were all things he had seen once before from Sybil Trelawney. He knew what was coming, and as she took a last wheezy breath, he resigned himself to be the bearer of another secret prophecy. He just hoped it wasn't as foreboding as the last, yet a part of him knew he was to be disappointed.

From a multitude of voices, high, low, hoarse and deep, Sybil Trelawney began to prophesy:

"Born from secrets and of lies,

And left to rise in darkness,

The heirs have come at last.

They shall live in light and shadow,

To bridge time and empires,

But not till their awakening,

Shall true power unfold.

Their ruin marks their rise.

Guardian and warrior by their own rite,

Snakes and lions shall unite.

And hidden in the enemies stronghold,

Betrayal brings about victory."

He had only just muttered a quick "Well, that was surely troubling" before Helena murmured " So, she isn't just a fraud. You know I have always wondered why you kept her around." They shared an amused glance before Sybil came out of her trance with a disquieting cough. Clearly confused, she looked around the corridor, then down at her feet. She was about to clear the mess, when she noticed Albus standing just a few feet in front of her. Upon realizing her predicament, she blushed to the roots of her thick mane of curls. Well, she appeared to do so; it was difficult to tell beneath her thick glasses, many layers of colored scarves and wild hair. After a minute of stunned silence, and upon realizing she was too surprised to speak, Albus took over, to her obvious relief.

"Ah, good evening Sybil. I expect you were on your way to the welcoming feast." Here he paused, as they both knew the feast was most probably not on her mind at all. "I shall meet you down there in a short while; I just have some last minute business to settle here. Do pass on the message to Minerva? I would be most grateful."

As dim as professor Trelawney seemed to her colleagues and students, she knew a dismissal when she heard one. However, as soon as she took her first step, she was met with the sharp crunching of glass.

"Ah, dear me, you seem to have stumbled upon a patch of broken glass. Peeves must be getting an early start this year. Allow me." And with a silent and wandless evanesco, she was free to go. After watching her leave, Albus turned to the ghost of Helena with a pensive expression.

"I'm sorry, but I need your word, Helena, as a ghost of Hogwarts, that what was said here tonight shall not be repeated."

It was several minutes, that she spent silently evaluating him, before coming to a decision and finally speaking. "I see, Albus, that you understand the usefulness of secrets, as do I. Also, as I'm sure you have plenty of your own, I hope you can, in time, understand the necessity of the the secrets that have been withheld from you tonight. For this reason only, I shall do as you ask."

She silently floated over to the interior corridor wall and pressed her wand hand, palm down, against the cool stone." I, Helena Rowan Ravenclaw, swear by the Hogwarts four, that not a word of what was spoken here tonight shall be repeated by me to any person, aside from Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

With her last spoken word, four strands of colored light – blue, green, red, and yellow – surged from the wall beneath her palm and wrapped themselves like a band around her wrist, before fading from sight.

"I thank you Helena."

While thinking to herself 'you aren't the only one who can play the game of secrets Albus,' she let a delicate smirk slip upon her gray lips and nodded once. Albus didn't know if it was more coy or taunting, but it surely wasn't friendly. 'Am I missing something?' Of coarse he was; Helena was a Ravenclaw for a reason. She hadn't had this much fun playing with a human, especially one as great as Albus Dumbledore, since Tom Riddle. 'Hmm, I do hope this doesn't come back to bite me.'

"The sorting shall be starting soon. It has been years since I have attended a sorting, but I do suspect the headmaster is expected to attend. After all, it isn't every day that Harrison Potter is sorted."

Then, fading from sight, she left him to be baffled by how truly knowledgeable she seemed to be of the year's events. He wondered if she would also play a role. That was highly unlikely, but not impossible. Well, he had a sorting to get to. He did an about face and hurried along to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and the now blank wall across from it. Pausing, he thought for a moment, before pacing the wall three times while thinking ' I need an entrance into the great hall.' When a door appeared upon the blank-faced wall, he stepped through and into an empty stone walled room with a single door opposite the one he had just entered from. This one too he stepped through and, upon realizing he had just been transported to the antechamber connected to the great hall, smiled in satisfaction. 'Good old Hogwarts.' He patted a wall fondly. 'To the start of another new year and another batch of first years,' he thought to himself, before calmly stepping into a full great hall and taking his seat. 'Right on time too.'

Noticing Minerva by the great hall doors, waiting for his signal to begin the sorting, he quickly nodded his head and watched as she departed to retrieve the new students. He looked around the hall and at the four house tables, before his mind wandered. Soon he was reflecting back on the new prophecy and the legend. He wondered about the heirs. Would they be students, or would they be coming by time travel like the prophecy seemed to suggest. If they were to be students, what house would they be in? Were the heirs even the two mentioned in the legend? Or were they separate entirely? Whose side would they be on?

He withheld a sigh of frustration. Albus Dumbledore was not a man accustomed to being left in the dark. 'I'm sure the answers will come in time. I'll just have to be patient, and keep my eyes open, every last one of them. It shouldn't be too hard.' Living in Hogwarts, there was a reason they said "the walls have eyes." They did have eyes, and ears, and as headmaster, they all reported back to him.

He was allowed only that last thought before his attention was grabbed by the re-entry of his deputy-headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Behind her trailed a line of small nervous first years, waiting to be sorted. He chuckled to himself as he remembered this year's rumored sorting story. He did believe it was the Weasley boys responsible. Well, the sorting hat was harmless, especially compared to wrestling and taming a troll, but the first years didn't know that.

His attention was drawn back to the first years as he realized he had accidentally tuned out most of the sorting hat's song. He would have to remedy that. He had been looking forward to a song this evening and he would see to it that he got to enjoy one. But, back to the sorting, he hadn't even caught a glimpse of Harry yet. 'Where is that boy? Hagrid tells me he looks just like his father'

He found him standing beside a tall gangly redhead, Ronald Weasley, if he wasn't mistaken. Harry looked remarkably short standing beside the boy, but Hagrid was right, he did look just like his father. They shared the same black messy hair, glasses and face structure, but if Hagrid was right, he had retained his mother's eyes. Looking closer he noticed Harry shooting amused glances at the young Mr. Weasley beside him, who was then shooting not-so-subtle dirty looks at a girl standing near the front of the group. He frowned at that. 'It's a bit early for that amount of animosity. What could have happened here?' Looking closely at the young lady, he couldn't help but shake himself. 'Another mystery! I should have known.'

Dumbledore was an enigma to many people. He had several eccentricities, one of many being that he was not easily fooled by spells and objects designed to hide or alter ones appearance. Not many knew of the reason for this particular quirk of his. That he had charmed his eye-glasses to work in tandem with his legilimency was a secret he would take to his grave. This being the reason he noticed and was not fooled by this young girls glamour charm, he found himself a bit wary of the first year before him.

'Why would a first year require a glamour, and a particularly strong one at that? It couldn't be for beauty purposes as she wasn't a face that would catch a passing eye, unless it was to notice her wildly curling hair and slightly large front teeth. But he couldn't know for sure. Usually he would be able to see the glamour wielders true appearance, but, in cases where a stronger charm was used, he was left to see only the subtle telling shimmer of the glamour charm. Generally, these were only used to conceal a person's full identity. This was troubling. 'Did the girl realize she held a glamour? Was it deliberate on her part?' Here was a mystery he had to solve, and not just to satisfy his curiosity. It was his job as headmaster to see to the school's safety. She could be a potential threat to his students.

He knew what needed to be done, but hesitated at hearing her name called. 'Hermione Granger? But, she's a muggle born. This is most unusual.' He didn't have time to reconsider the ethics of what he was about to do. She was already walking up to the sorting hat.

Of coarse he knew as soon as the sorting hat was upon her head he would be sensed and possibly thrown out of her mind. The sorting of each student was meant to be private, but he had good motive. So, keeping his intentions at the forefront of his mind, he waited till the exact moment she donned the cap before entering her mind and hoping for the best. He wasn't disappointed. He knew the cap was displeased at the intrusion, but also that it understood the necessity. So, after a short pause, the hat began as if he hadn't noticed the intruder.

Her ears and eyes were surrounded by a silent darkness, except for the low buzzing in her head. But that had to be from the feeling of her brain being squeezed too tight. And that had to be from the sorting hat, right? Hermione Granger wasn't sure. But she was sure of that she was supposed to be getting sorted, and not sitting here with a hall of people, that she didn't know, as they watched her like some sort of zoo animal, on display for their own amusement.

"Hello? Excuse me? Mr. Sorting Hat? Aren't I supposed to be getting sorted?" She blushed as she heard a resounding chuckle from the hall of witches and wizards around her that was echoed by a low rumbling in her head, most certainly from the sorting hat. She caught herself in her embarrassment and scowled. She did not like to be laughed at.

'Right you are Miss…Granger is it? Hmm…I see. Well, where shall we put you then? With nearly equal parts Slytherin and Gryffindor, you epitomize what both houses prize most! You have a fair amount of pride and a healthy amount of ambition. Your sincerest wish is to find a place in this world of ours, I see. You are cunning and you have a quick wit, but both of these qualities are countered by your fiery temper and your tendency to be brash under pressure.'

She scoffed at that.

'You also place a healthy respect on the loyalty from and to others; especially for those you consider family. Hmm, you secretly believe rules were made to be broken, in regards to your goals, but only if you don't get caught. Well, that's a Slytherin quality –'

"That's ridiculous! I thought you knew everything." There were a few gasps and a few guffaws scattered amongst the great hall.

'Be careful miss; I'm the one who's sorting you. And you don't have to talk aloud for me to hear you. Moving on, you would do very well in Slytherin but-

"Sly–' she paused, blushing at her forgetfulness. Well at least her audience was getting a show while they waited. 'Slytherin? I can't be in Slytherin! I'm muggle born. Salazar Slytherin hated muggleborns. I read so in Hogwarts a – '

'Yes, yes, I know all about that and a fair bit more than you, as I was there and you were not. Remember this Miss Granger and you will go far: There is a lot to be learned from books, but books can only teach you so much, and sometimes books won't actually teach you at all. Moving on. Muggle born you say?'

There was the sound of more low rumbling, and this time she didn't presume to know why. "Bah! Salazar would be turning in his grave. Well then, if you're sure Slytherin won't do, you have a sound and ready mind as well. Ravenclaw would be a nice tight fit for you. Hmm, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor? Let's see you grow, shall we?' "Better be – "