(Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. If I did the story would have had a better final battle in book 7)
(Chapter 3 Start)
Flashing on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, Jericho took a moment to get his bearings. Over his shoulder hung a bag of supplies. Its contents held things he felt he may need, as well as his swords. Setting the pack down and opening it, he pulled out his swords and belt. Equipping his weapons and closing the pack he swung it over his shoulder and made his way to the nearby castle.
He had heard that the castle was the magical school, Hogwarts, while he had been stationed in the little wizard village. Having left at sundown from Myren meant that it was coming close to being dusk in Britain. The trek to the school took a good twenty minutes and by the time he reached it the sky had lost its mix of oranges, reds, and violets for a darker blue color.
Approaching the gates he saw the old figure of Albus Dumbledore. Raimond knew Jericho was going to need help to uncover anything that would shed light on any Templar aiding the country's Dark Lord, and since his task was off the record it allowed him more freedom in his actions that would otherwise be against the law. As Jericho neared he noticed the small, smile on the Headmaster's face.
"It's good to see you again, Templar. I must admit I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon, if at all." Albus greeted
"Indeed, though I would have rather not returned. My being here means many bad possibilities for you and yours."
Albus lost his grin at the Templar's words, "I see, let us head to my office. If a Templar is willing to speak with outsiders I can only fear the reason why."
The two made their way through the stone walls of Hogwarts passing many ghosts and moving portraits, all looking at the two with a great amount of curiosity. Turning at the next corner the two passed by a few more portraits when a voice called out.
"My, my...a Templar walking the halls of a school for young witches and wizards. I must say I never thought I see such a sight."
Albus and Jericho stopped upon hearing the portrait's words and looked towards the speaker. The portrait was done in a simple setting with an elderly man sitting in a study. He wore deep grey robes a few shades darker than Jericho's, but lacked the Templar runes and cloak. His pure white hair was an inch long and combed back. His eyes though much smaller due to the size of the portrait were a distinct gold color the likes of which were never seen in the magical world.
Jericho stared hard at the man in the painting. His appearance seemed familiar and the young Templar tried to place where he had seen the man before. Taking a closer look at the man's face, Jericho's eyes widened when he recognized him. While the man had certainly looked older than the pictures he had seen, his face was still the same.
"Mater Alaman, it's an honor," He said with a slight bow.
"Master? You seem to be mistaken boy. My name is Alaman, but I am no master, I'm just an elderly grounds keeper with a penchant for magical history." Alaman replied.
Jericho looked at the portrait in confusion, "Surely you jest, Master Alaman. You defeated an Equatis Templar when you were a Grand Templar. You are a master to all Grand Templar."
"And I'm telling you, you are wrong," Alaman said glaring at Jericho. "If I was that person you speak of then you would be honor bound by the Templar Code: Article Three, Section Two to correct the situation."
Jericho's eyes widened in understanding, "Yes, my mistake. Sorry for troubling you."
Bowing his head in farewell the Templar started to walk away. Albus looked to Alaman in confusion before following Jericho.
"May I enquire as to what Templar Code: Article Three, Section Two means," The Headmaster asked.
Glancing over at the old man, Jericho answered, "In response to the secrets of Templar Society all evidence and possible leaks of security are to be disposed of. This applies to weapons, all documents, and any Templar not under Council control."
Albus pondered on the rule before asking the obvious question, "Then why did you not dispose of the portrait?"
Jericho remained silent before answering, "...Because I too am in violation of Article Three, Section Two."
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Elsewhere in the town of Little Hangleton, a meeting was taking place in the old dilapidated Riddle House. The occupants in the building were none other than the Dark Lord, Voldemort and his many Death Eaters. The group of Death Eaters stood in a magically expanded room in neat rows. Voldemort sat on a thrown with his Inner Circle standing on either side. Before him, was a Death Eater convulsing on the floor experiencing the pain of the Cruciatus Curse. Lying around the torture man were the dead bodies of his comrades.
Voldemort looked at thetortured man with a bored expression on his pale serpentine face. Ceasing the spell he let the Death Eater twitch in pain before speaking.
"Now, correct me if I'm wrong. But according to you and your comrades, one man took out over a dozen of my Death Eaters with little more than a pair of swords. I send thirty Death Eaters on a simple raid and ten return to tell me that twenty men were beaten by one man fighting armed wizards with nothing but swords!" By the end of the little speech Voldemort was yelling. Many of the Death Eaters standing by watching the events felt relieved not to on the receiving end of their lord's wrath.
The twitching man pushed is aching body into a kneeling position and answered his lord in labored breaths, "My lord I have no reason to lie to you! His swords were nothing like a muggle's blade! It had the ability to cut spells in half!"
Voldemort looked at the man in amusement. Watching him plead for forgiveness was far more entertaining than torturing him. He knew all about the events of Hogsmeade having received every detail from the first nine Death Eaters he had tortured then killed. But, it never ceased to entertain him when the last one standing tried to hammer the point across that there was nothing that could be done. Feeling a smirk tugged at his lips he asked a question he had said when the last Death Eater spoke of the swords.
"Then you should of cast the Killing Curse and end his life."
And as expected the man responded with the same answer as the one before him, "But, we did. He simply used his swords to intercept the spell."
Voldemort followed with another question he asked earlier, "Then why wasn't he removed from his blades?"
"But we couldn't land a spell on him! He either dodged them or destroyed them!"
"So in your infinite wisdom you felt it best to retreat?" Voldemort asked holding back a malicious grin; this was where the answer always changed.
"But my lord, I felt it prudent that you know of this man! If we had all died then this mysterious foe could become a hindrance later."
The Dark Lord had to admit, out of all the answers, that had been the best one, "Yet had you stayed, there would have been a chance for you to have killed him saving me the trouble, while at the same time allowing you to continue your mission. I'm sorry, but I do not tolerate cowardice. I'm afraid you'll have to die."
The tortured Death Eater looked straight at him with fear. Raising his wand Voldemort started to utter the incantation to end the man's life when a voice spoke out.
"Surely that spell isn't necessary."
Voldemort looked to the back of the room trying to find the voice responsible for interrupting him. Standing at the back was a figure downing black and red robes. His cloak's hood was raised shadowing his face, only revealing to fiery red eyes emitting a soft glow. In his right hand he held a double-bladed sword. The Death Eaters parted allowing the man to walk forward.
"Oh, it's you," Voldemort said slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be torturing anyone else.
"Yes," The man said lowering his hood, revealing the sharp features of Ferres, "It's me."
"I thought you said that Hogsmeade would be free of your kind," Voldemort said with a hint of annoyance.
"I believe I also told you to wait a day before attacking to be safe," Ferres replied with the same level of annoyance. "It makes me wonder if you're worth my time if you can't follow such simple orders."
The Dark Lord glared at the Blood Templar, "I do not follow your orders. If you want to make a few suggestions, then I may be more willing to agree. But do not think for one moment that I am under your command!"
Ferres didn't pause in his stride, showing the entire room that he did not fear angering Voldemort. Reaching the still kneeling Death Eater, who looked at the Blood Templar hoping the man would distract the Dark Lord from killing him, Ferres threw a sideways glance at him before replying, "Then I suggest you don't use the Killing Curse to dispose of this man."
Voldemort looked from the Death Eater, then to Ferres, "Why not?"
With a quick swing of his weapon, Ferres decapitated the Death Eater. Many of Dark Lord's minions cringed at the quick, brutal, and extremely bloody way the man had been killed.
"It's far more efficient to make an example of cowards. Such a clean kill doesn't get your point across as well."
Voldemort thought on the Templar's word for a moment, noting his followers' reactions, "I find that a suggestion I can agree with."
Many of the Death Eaters felt a shiver run up their spine at their master's words. Ferres nodded before stepping to the left to avoid the puddle of blood that was quickly approaching his feet.
"Now, on to more important things. Thanks in part to your hasty assault my hand has been forced. I was hoping to have more time to come up with a suitable strategy, but that is no longer possible. An investigation has been started on the Hogsmeade reconnaissance mission and I can't chance them finding anything that will alert them of my plans."
"Very well," Voldemort responded before turning to the Death Eaters behind Ferres, "All of you leave and be sure to take that filth with you." He said pointing to the ten corpses.
Ferres waited until all that was left was Voldemort and his inner circle. Pulling out a scroll he walked up to the Dark Lord and handed it to him. "In that scroll is a map of the key buildings your men will need to focus on.. Review it with your generals while I tell you of my plan to attack Myren."
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Albus and Jericho entered the Headmaster's office and headed toward the desk. As the old Headmaster went around the desk, he took a seat and offered the Templar a lemon drop. Jericho politely declined before sitting down.
"Before we begin allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian
Dumbledore. I have many titles, but I doubt they would mean much to a Templar."
Jerihco folded his hands together before introducing himself, "Grand Templar, Jericho."
"No last name?" The Headmaster questioned.
"None needed. We are warriors, bred for combat. Our names are mere call signs so that we have a way to distinguish one Templar from another."
Albus nodded in understanding, "So what may I ask are you doing here? You said that your appearance was not to be celebrated and that you are in violation of your own laws."
"I've come to assist you in your fight against Voldemort."
"That's very kind of you, but that didn't answer my questions."
Jericho took a moment to think over his answer. He was already violating Templar law, but he had every intention of returning to Myren. With that in mind he had to be careful not to give away too much information. "There is thought to be foul play afoot with one of our own. I'm here under the orders of one of our leaders to investigate the matter. However, since there is no hard evidence suggesting a conspiracy, I have to tread lightly."
Albus frowned at the Templar. Being a leader of the light as well as an experienced general taught him to read between the lines early on in life, "Are you implying that there is Templar working with Voldemort?"
"Is or are. We don't know if it is one or many or any for that matter. All our evidence is circumstantial, but we Templar are proactive and prefer to take initiative in such matters. However, like all societies we have our own laws and red tape to deal with." Jericho answered with a sigh.
"And like all societies, there are times when one must bend the law for the greater good," Albus added, empathizing with Jericho. He too led a group that was for all intents and purposes illegal.
"Indeed, that being said there will be little I can do for you. I'm a fighter, but I can't make myself to obvious. So aside from the occasional battle I am little more than eye-candy. The only other service I could possibly provide is my skills in strategy."
"That's understandable," Albus said nodding his head. "But you could also teach us how to combat Templar." Jericho felt his body go stiff at the Headmaster's words. Albus quickly clarified his statement, "In case we encounter any fighting for Voldemort."
"Perhaps…a few suggestions," he replied slowly, telling himself that he didn't have to give every weakness away.
"Very good," Albus said with a twinkle in his eye. "Well since you will be working with us I best introduce you to the group of people who help me fight Voldemort and his minions.. It wouldn't do to have you attack just any wizard or witch on the battlefield. However, we can wait until tomorrow as it is getting late. Oh! I would also ask you not to intentionally kill any Death Eaters in battle."
"Why the hell not? They are murderers are they not?" Jericho askied in bewilderment.
"Though they have committed some heinous acts, they are merely misguided. Falling victim to Voldemort's charisma," The Headmaster explained.
Jericho looked at the old man with narrowed eyes, though the only indication Albus received was the narrowing of the golden aura coming from behind the black shadows hiding his face, "No dice. I cannot and will not show mercy to those who don't have any. If that is going to be a problem then our business ends here."
Standing up, the Templar made his way to leave. Albus looked at the warrior frantically. A Templar was willing to offer help to the light, but was just as willing to work alone. The Headmaster knew that if what Jericho had said about Templar aiding Voldemort was true, then he couldn't afford to lose his aid. With a tired sigh he called out to him, "Wait."
Jericho stopped with his hand on the door knob. Looking over his shoulder he saw the old man had his hands propped up on the desk holding his downcast head.
"I will…" Albus paused having a hard time saying his next words. "I won't stop you from killing, but I would ask that you not try to kill every Death Eater you see."
"…No promises," Jericho replied before opening the door. "I'm going to speak with Alaman, before I leave for the inn at Hogsmeade. I'll return early tomorrow morning."
He didn't wait for the Headmaster's answer. Instead the young Templar exited the office leaving Albus feeling every year his age.
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Jericho made his way through the halls of Hogwarts, retracing his steps. He had memorized the path from the entrance to the Headmaster's office and consequently, Alaman's portrait. Turning another corner he made his way three-quarters the way down the hall before stopping and turning to face the portrait he was looking for.
"And the young Templar returns," Alaman said cheerfully.
"Indeed," Jericho answered with a nod. "I had a few questions for you."
"Yes, I figured you would. Bear in mind that I am but a simple, dead, ex-Hogwarts grounds keeper well versed in magical history," Alaman replied in the same cheerful tone.
Jericho nodded his head again. He figured that Alaman would keep to the same alias and had prepared his questions accordingly. "How did you become grounds keeper for this school?"
"Well I put in an application and the Headmaster of the time hired me," answered the portrait.
"Can you be more specific?" Jericho pressed.
"Well it's been many years…I'm sure if you go to the Headmaster's office you'll-"
"No, no I mean the events leading up to your job here," Jericho clarified feeling annoyance creep in as Alaman danced around his question.
"Well I left my home with a few friends. We wandered for a bit before coming to Britain. There we found our way into the magical world.. We took some time to acquaint ourselves with this new environment before getting jobs and living long boring lives. Some longer than others," Alaman finished cryptically.
"Why did you leave home?" Jericho asked, knowing he would get a vague answer.
"Oh we had some disagreements with the residents of the town we lived in. I got in a fight that eventually led to my friends and myself fleeing for our lives."
"Did this fight involve an Equatis Templar?" Jericho asked, pressing his luck.
"Oh heavens no! What chance would a grounds keeper such as myself stand against an Equatis Templar?"
The Grand Templar sighed in frustration before rephrasing his question, "Can you tell me how the Grand Templar, who lived during your generation managed to beat an Equatis Templar?"
"I can't be one-hundred percent sure, but I would speculate that the Grand Templar was more skilled than the Equatis Templar," Alaman answered, looking Jericho straight in the eyes.
"How could a Grand Templar be more skillful than an Equatis?" Jericho pondered aloud, not expecting an answer.
"My boy, there are skills, and then there are skills," the portrait replied.
Jericho looked at him in confusion, but before he could ask, Alaman told him to be on his way. Saying he had an early start in the morning. Walking out of Hogwarts Castle, the young Grand Templar rolled the portraits last words over and over in his head. But it didn't make sense.
Wasn't the Grand Templar the underdog when battling an Equatis?
(End of Chapter 3)
And here be chapter 3. Revised, betaed, and posted for your viewing pleasure. As I've said in the last chapter inconsistencies will become more common for anyone reading past this chapter until the revision is complete. For instance a conversation Albus and Jericho has next chapter (the original Chapter 4) will seem pointless as the subject of the conversation was talked about in this chapter.
Once again special thanks to The Gallant Ranger for betaing this chapter.
