I thought I would toss you all a nice and neat little chapter before I finish up my documentary work. For those of you who don't know I've been the main investigator of a full length documentary set to preview in the month of December. We're quickly approaching the deadline, and we are quickly losing our minds with editing. God, Gods, Goddesses, somebody- help us. This insane undertaking, hopefully, will bare wonderful, wonderful fruits and hopefully this research will culminate into some great recognitions and awards. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short little chapter! The plot will be moving quickly from here and I am so excited to show you all what I've been concocting.

Ric thumbed his nose and glanced around the room. There was a great din and ruckus about them, and so it appeared safe to converse. Sometimes the best places for secretive conversations were out in the public: if you treated something as secret and quiet then people will take notice, act as though you hold no knowledge and people will pay you no heed.

"I am more curious as to what you know." Hermione's guard rose immediately, what if this man was a witch hunter?

"I'm afraid I do not feel comfortable presenting my knowledge in such," she chose her words carefully, "new and untested company."

Ric nodded. "Meaning that you aren't sure who I am, and rightly so." He shrugged. "I'm a dealer of goods and this and that."

Lancelot leaned forward with his hand on the table. Clever as Ric was, he did not miss the underlying threat in the gesture. "Meaning you are a thief."

Ric spread his hands in a show of good faith and life. "Thief is such a dirty word, begging your pardon. I prefer connoisseur of items. I work in the business of comings and goings. And, that was a past profession. I've recently turned a," he paused, "a new leaf. I am going respectable."

Percival laughed. "Can a rogue go respectable? Or is an old dog, forever a dog?"

Hermione lifted a single finger and caught the eye of all the men at the table. "That's enough, Percival." Her eyes fell kindly on Ric. Something that screamed of home and of comfort made her relax. Her intuitive knowledge of character told her that they could trust the man; somehow she didn't see him as overly nefarious. "I for one do know that old dogs do learn new tricks." She alone knew of Snape and Dumbledore's plans. Then there was always the example of the young Malfoy.

Her voiced opinion ended the discussion and Ric whistled. "Can you get him to roll over and shake paws too?"

Percival was on his feet, sword drawn before Hermione could react. She met his eyes squarely. "Percival, why don't you take a walk."

"That cur-"

"Yes, I know." She sighed and fixed Ric with a look. "Beggars can't be choosers, or I would choose otherwise. However." She left the word hanging and Percival sighed. The tension that had previously halted the inn's common room eased and returned to normal. Percival wandered out of the hall, no doubt in search of a game of dice and a sympathetic ear.

Hermione glared at Ric over her cup of mulled wine. "Was there any particular reason behind that little show?"

The man shrugged before stretching his arms as though the previous movement reminded him of a nasty ache. "The less of those who hear about this stuff, the better."

"Both of my companions are sworn in secrecy and safety. Our mission is of the upmost importance."

It was Ric's turn to pin her with a look the promised so many things. "What, pray tell, is your mission, Mistress?"

Hermione shifted in her seat. There came a time in every information seeker's life where one had to lay cards on the table for all to see. "We're in search of Hogwarts. There is a young man I know who needs training, and I know of no other school."

"Hogwarts, a school." Ric mused. He took a long swig off of his ale. "Hogwarts, right now, is a big flaming mess of pig's slop. All the founders do is fight. So, it is more of just an idea right now."

Hermione's core froze. "You cannot be serious."

The red head nodded solemnly. "Which is why I am curious about how you've heard of it."

Hermione looked down and away before sticking with the story that she had formed in her liar's palace. "I am a seer. I have seen the future of the school and what it will become. I know that this time shall pass, and the school will become successful."

An odd look gleamed in Ric's eyes. "And you believe your visions?" The tone in his voice was one that Hermione could not place.

The witch nodded. "Hogwarts will become a beacon of light and hope for all who see her. She will stand for intelligence, reason, and right for the next thousand years."

Ric sucked in his breath and stared into his cup. "That's." He paused. "That's incredible."

Hermione nodded. "And that is why I must go there and speak with the founders about this student. He is predicted to attend it, and he might just become the most famous wizard of all time."

"I'll take you there."

"Make an unbreakable vow on our safe passage." Hermione bargained. Though she truly liked Ric, she still had their safety in mind.

He seemed torn. "That's a powerful thing to ask of someone, milady."

Hermione shrugged. "No vow, means that I am unsure if I can trust you."

"You know, I thought I was doing you the favor of guiding you."

Hermione shrugged. "True, but I doubt that you are offering to lead us for nothing, there must be something that you want."

He grinned, having been caught. The kind of honest boyishness of his face alighted Hermione's heart as though she was sitting with Harry or Ron and they had just admitting to not doing their homework. "There may be discussion of wanting something in return, however it is nothing that would kill your or having you kill any other. It should really only be discussed once we arrive."

Hermione frowned, that didn't sit well, however before she could answer Lancelot spoke up. "That seems to be a fair request."

What could she say to that? The Lancelot thought that it was a good plan. "Alright. The vow?"

Ric was silent for a time, and Hermione didn't push him. Instead she pushed around a piece of apple that was in front of her. Their dinner had been finished during the conversation, and now she only had the bits and ending pieces to play with.

"Aye, it's a fair deal."

They cleared the table quickly and made for the stairs leading up to the rooms allotted to Hermione and her companions. Once locked tightly up in Hermione's room she turned towards Ric and pulled her wand out from its holster.

Ric pulled out his wand and then with a flourish had it expand into a deep mahogany brown staff with a large glowing red crystal at the top. He looked at her with impatience.

"Come on now, enlarge it so that we can vow, you cannot do it in wand form."

Hermione was at a loss; in her time she didn't think that they even used staves anymore. She stared at her wand and applied her will to it, in hopes that it would work. Something clicked in her magic and her wand, much to Hermione's amazement, began to expand until it was a cream coloured staff that was lit by an amber crystal. A closer examination confirmed the precious stone to be that of the crystallized sap due to the fossilized dragon heartstring that was vaguely viewable in the center of the gem. She knew that from then on, she would only need to think of her staff and it would appear- nothing so far in her life had felt so right. It was as though all the bridled up power within her had somehow broken free and was now unadulterated and swirling around her in some form of controlled chaos.

The two then handed their staffs off to Lancelot, having instructed him in his purpose for the ritual. They then kneeled and clasped their rights hands together. Hermione was nervous and uncomfortable with the whole process from the intents and purposes of the spell, right down the painful and scratchy floor her knees were on. Lancelot took the two staffs and touched the conjoined hands with the tips of their gems.

Hermione spoke first. "Will you, Ricard Dofry, take me and my companions to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"I will."

"Will you, to the best of your abilities keep us safe on this journey?"

"I will."

"And will you maintain no nefarious plots against us during these proceedings."

"I will."

With each statement and affirmation a bond of red light wrapped around their conjoined hands. The feeling wasn't painful, per say, however it did feel uncomfortable. With each vow the strands of light grew heavier, as if their hearts and souls were being bouldered down with purpose and responsibility. One the third and final vow it was as though the greatest weight in the world was being pressed down on their hands and wrists and it took all of Hermione's self control to not scream.

Hermione nodded or at least she might have, but really she had no recollection of moving her head, merely the want to do so. Either way, there must have been some kind of indication because Lancelot removed the two staffs and the bonds flared once before disappearing completely. The pressure was gone as if it never came and the two magical folks stood from the floor.

Without much further conversation Hermione and Lancelot bid Ric a good evening, tomorrow they would collect supplies and then leave before nightfall with the rest of the usual caravan traffic. Once left alone Hermione stared at the staff that currently occupied a corner of her room.

That staff, had it always been there? Locked inside of her wand? Who knew, really. She reached out a hand and called with her will as she did the first time she called for a broomstick. Only, this time the reaction was instantaneous and almost without effort. Her staff was firmly in her hands and Hermione ran her fingers up and down its length. The vines that had been carved into the wood of her original magical tool had been magnified and multiplied up and down the entirety of the long wooden rod.

This felt right, though her wand had never felt wrong before. A glance inside at her core had her reeling at the sheer change in the magnitude of its appearance. Could it be that her core had grown due to the exposure to the staff? Preposterous, if that was the case why wouldn't the ministry have implemented staffs?

Her train of thoughts halted abruptly. That was it then, the ministry or someone, somewhere along the lines thought that wizards and witches with staffs were too dangerous, too powerful. So, they locked away the staff and switched the populace over to wands, a smaller and more dampened way of conducting magic. Her channels and core was being managed by her smaller magical totem. A flash of anger burned through her and her wash pot flew from off her bedside table to dent against the wall, she was lucky that it had been made out of metal. A quick repairo had it back to rights, and then she summed it back to her.

Those right bastards. She would have to give them a piece of her mind when she got back. If she got back. If Hogwarts was still in its infancy, than there was a chance that the knowledge and the know how wasn't there yet. Her beacon of hope didn't seem to be overly bright at the moment.

With a sigh and a prayer, Hermione washed and changed for bed, knowing that tomorrow would be the start of the end of this little adventure. She will have been searching for Hogwarts for nearly a year and half. Banking the small fire in the corner, Hermione went to sleep.

When the four companions crested the hill three weeks later, Hermione's breath caught in her chest. There was home. It looked different now, however the Great Hall was still plainly present. The large towers weren't there yet (and they wouldn't be for a few more centuries according to one of her medieval architecture books). With a cry she kicked her horse into an excited gallop and raced down the slope towards the castle in the distance.

The others, catching her energy and excitement that comes from seeing the prey at the end of a long hunt, joined her in her shouts of merriment and followed her in equal haste. Three hours later had them trotting into the main courtyard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

They all dismounted and turned to be greeted by a host of house elves and two individuals. One was an old man who, quite frankly reminded Hermione of Dumbledore in a way. He was grandfatherly and overall very likeable in appearance. The second was a woman whose dark hair glowed much like the night sky. Her face was moon-shaped and her green eyes sparkled with wit, mirth, and intelligence.

Ric greeted both with large and joyus hugs. "Cousin!" He greeted the woman first before turning to the older man. "Master Zeric!" The greetings were filled with warmth and Hermione felt like a stranger in her own home.

The large red headed man seemed to remember his manners and turned to face his guests. "Hermione Greenstone, Lancelot du Lac, and Percival Arueu Dur." He gestured to each guest upon introduction. "May I make known to you my deartest cousin Wennalynne Clarsomnen," the young lady curtseyed. "And my old tutor and dear friend Master Zeric Therine." The older man bowed in respect.

"I do hope that my cousin hasn't been too much of a burden." The woman's voice was soft and gentle and Hermione was at once reminded of her mother. As a child Hermione had been so incredibly envious of her mother's low and melodious tones, to her it seemed like her childish voice was always and forever too high.

Hermione curtseyed. "Ric has been entirely a gentleman."

Zeric snorted. "I sincerely doubt the sincerity of that statement, however I am pleased in your want to protect his honor and his name."

Percival and Lancelot, on the other hand were truly and utterly shocked by the look and physical appearance of the house elves. When the small creatures came up to remove the belongings from the horses and then the horses themselves, the two brawny men stayed abnormally silent. There were some magical things that they were ready for, this was not one of them.

The four travelers were immediately swept inside and placed in guest chambers. Inside they had been informed were large tubs of hot bath water were waiting. Hermione was absolutely tickled to find that when they had been informed of the tubs, their hosts were indeed speaking of the various prefects bathrooms attached to the living quarters afforded to guests.

It seemed a shame, not having to watch out for any other ghost or moaning myrtle. She half expected Peeves to show up and drench her with something awful, and yet nothing came. While this place looked like Hogwarts, it didn't quite feel like it yet. Something was missing and as she swept her hand along the stone that was the lip of the pool she realized what it was.

The magic wasn't there yet. The building that she knew had magic humming and seeping off of every single surface, no matter how small and insignificant. This Hogwarts was new, barely even a baby. She was truly a long way from home.

An hour later the bell roused her from her lovely bath and prompted her to get dressed for supper. Supper itself wasn't taken in the Great Hall, as she expected, but rather in the chambers which would once hold the headmaster's office.

She sat there and looked around, for a second her vision changed and she saw the office that she knew. Blinking, the image disappeared. Hermione sighed, however it went unnoticed in all the food and conversation.

Once their appetites were tended to and the plates cleared by house elves (odd, why didn't it just disappear?). The group sat down for business. "So, Ric has told me that you are a seer." Zeric began and Hermione nodded.

"I cannot see everything, however I can see a fair few things. Hogwarts will one day become a school of legends."

Zeric made a humming noise. "This school has been around for, oh, twenty years or so." He smiled at Ric. "I started the school when Ric was just a boy and getting into trouble. He and Wenna would raise all sorts of chaos with their untrained magic and mischievous nature." The two in question blushed. "We have a fair good student body, right now we have eleven or so promising students and four more not so promising."

"Uncle."

"Master Zeric." Both Wenna and Ric admonished, however they did not move to amend his statement.

Zeric shrugged. "I am merely painting the accurate portrait of this institution."

Hermione nodded. "It's quite alright. I am here to help bring in the next and possibly greatest of your pupils. He will be a credit to everyone's name, for that I am sure."

"And who, pray tell is this?" Zeric inquired.

Hermione frowned, uncomfortable suddenly. "I am not at liberty to say right now, only understand that he is the future, according to my visions."

Tension was thick in the air until Wenna broke it by discussing the new charm she wanted to try in the school, an ever-changing layout by having moving staircases.

The conversation lasted well into the night and Hermione then took her time after the meal strolling the halls of a school she knew all too well, and yet was walking through for the first time. Everything felt so similar, and yet so different. She slept uneasily that night and woke up much later than she had anticipated.

Upon arriving at breakfast her three hosts were arguing among themselves.

"I am telling you that it is important. We'll never be taken seriously, otherwise."

Zeric frowned at Ric's statement. "Poppy cock, I've never heard worse drivel in my life."

"Say what you will, but I believe it to be truth." Ric countered back and the argument continued. Finally, Hermione leaned over and whispered to Wenna.

"What are they arguing about?"

Wenna shrugged. "Ric deems that we need serious and important wizarding names if we're ever to be taken seriously. Uncle thinks that it is foolish."

Hermione snorted into her morning meal of warmed and creamed oats. "That is a silly idea."

Wenna again shrugged. "I am not so sure, he has a point about recognition."

The argument lasted most of the day, and so Hermione spent her time outside by the lake, and for the first time in a long time she felt relaxed. That was until that evening at supper. They once again ate in the headmaster's chambers.

"Hermione, listen. Here are the names that I've compiled." Ric told her after catching her attention.

"Oh, not again." Zeric moaned, but otherwise stayed silent.

Ric grinned. "Don't you want to hear the names?"

Hermione made a noncommittal noise. "I have a feeling that you'll tell me anyway."

Ric just grinned wider. "Right you are. So," he unfurled a piece of parchment and pointed to Wenna. "This beautiful lady shall be Rowena Ravenclaw." The bottom of her stomach plummeted out of Hermione's body, no her entire stomach did. "Master Zeric will be Salazar Slytherin ("I'll be no such thing."), and I'll be Godric Gryffindor."

He turned and smiled at Hermione. "So, why do you think?" He asked eagerly.

Hermione, promptly, fainted.

Like it? Love it? Hate it (I hope not)? Lalalalala. I loved writing this chapter. I love writing this work of fiction. I really wish that this story would get more traction with followers, however I am not quite sure why its not (probably because the cross over isn't that popular). But please, as a gift to me for the holidays could you spam this around to your friends? A couple other of my fictions have broken the over 1000 subscribers mark, and I would love to see that happen with this one.

Anywho, I hope that you all enjoyed this, and cheers!

iBless!