IMPORTANT: Question for all of you in case opinions have changed since I last asked something similar: If I were to bring Hilde back around, what do you all think about some minor romance? It wouldn't take up too much of the plot at all, more of just a side note. So… thoughts? (I know there are people who worry that romance sometimes overpowers the main plot, but I wouldn't make it a major plot point, promise)

And note: Last time I'm saying this. I enjoy slash, yaoi, gay pairings, whatever you want to call them. However, this story will not, not, not contain any involving Salazar/Harry. Maybe with mentions between minor characters. Maybe not. That's it. Please stop asking me. Moving on.

Okay, so having trouble with translating some things correctly from English. I'll try to still use translated words occasionally, but I'll write everything in English while making note of what is actually being spoken in another language. Make sense? Oh… and so I was doing some more in depth research and found out that the Founders probably would have spoken Pictish rather than Scottish Gaelic, though they would have known Scottish Gaelic as it was the court language so to speak. Oh, my goodness it's all so confusing. Oh, and written language probably would have been Latin. So:

"Old Norse is in italics."

"Pictish is in italics and bolded."

'Scottish Gaelic is bold and is quoted with apostrophes.'

"Written Latin is underlined and in italics."

"Parseltongue is underlined."

'Fawkes speaking is in italics and is quoted with apostrophes.'

If any other languages pop up over the course of the story, I will make note of it as well. I will also post this key at the beginning of following chapters to make it easier to remember. (This list is getting quite long…)

Last time:

Salazar's fists clenched. "Enough, Fawkes. I understand. Godric felt guilt for what he did to me. He searched for me, abandoned his own son to try to find me. But it does not lessen his betrayal. So get out. I have enough to think about without you pressing me." He did not turn around until he had heard the rustle of feathers that marked Fawkes' departure. What did it matter that Godric felt guilt over his actions? The man he had loved as his brother had betrayed him as deeply as Cayden had done, if not deeper. That was not a wound so easily healed.

Chapter Twelve

The course of the next few weeks were quiet in comparison to everything that had already happened. Much of Salazar's time was taken up by his Head duties, and his obligations as a professor. When he did not have these tasks to attend to, then he was spending time in researching Riddle or trying to find Tyrfing. He spent little time in fretting over the reveal of his identity, or what-ifs about Godric. His memories though were slowly trickling back, mostly in his dreams. They seemed to center more over his early childhood for the moment, though he kept receiving small flashes of memories of the time he had spent at Hogwarts as Harry Potter. It had been rather disconcerting to see Weasley and Granger as close companions in these memories. He did have to wonder on childhood circumstances that would lead him to the company of Ronald Weasley. Perhaps that would be revealed to him in time. He found himself with more important things to worry about, however.

For one, Vetrnaetr and Samhain were rather quickly approaching, so he set his attentions on that instead. The children and refugees were in need of a good break, but it was unfortunate that he could not spread it to the entirety of the school. Still, he had decided to do what he could to those he could bring the festivities. The twins were invaluable in setting up everything when he could not, inviting those who would enjoy the more traditional festivities. Normally the festivities would last for several days in the Northern celebration of Vetrnaetr, but long ago Salazar and Godric had combined the festivities of Samhain and Vetrnaetr so everyone in the castle would have a way of celebrating. In times past, the little village of Hogsmeade would have been included as well.

But for now, Salazar had used the Room of Requirement to set up as it would have been remiss of him not to put the Room's extraordinary abilities to use for the festival. It would also provide a degree of security from misunderstanding eyes. And along with the twins' help, he had also gotten Blaise, Luna, and Granger to agree to help as well. After she had learned a bit more, Granger was easily the most excitable about it. She had provided too a bit of her own research into more modern practices. So, when the evening of the festival rolled around, Salazar felt they could make it a success.

A polite request to the castle had provided a shortcut from the dungeons to just outside the doors to the Room. The twins were inside, along with Luna, to finish up any last minute decorations. Blaise was helping to guide the families and students through to the shortcut while Granger kept a look out. As the first of the families arrived, Salazar greeted them and invited them inside. He would be the last to enter.

After closing the door behind him, Salazar took a moment to marvel in the work that everyone had done. It was if they had stepped into a large forest grove, the trees around them laden with many coloured leaves and dancing with faerie lights. Low tables laden with earthy decorations sat beneath large pergolas draped with multicoloured cloths. Garlands of leaves and autumn berries hung from the beams with twinkling faerie lights. Pillows served as seating, though no one had taken a seat just yet. It was simple and homey… yet touched with a bit of otherworldly. It gave him a touch of homesickness that he was forced to push down as he stepped up to the gathered families.

Salazar spread his hands. "Welcome and well met," he said, gathering everyone's attention. "Now, I know the students had an early meal. Mostly comprised of sweets, of course, so I doubt any of them are hungry." He heard a few muffled giggles and hid a smile of his own. He had warned them not to eat too much at the Hogwarts' feast, but what child could ignore the call of sweets? "I thought we might switch things then, so we shall start the bonfires and games first. If you all shall follow me."

Leading the way past the decorated tables, Salazar brought the group to where three large bonfires had been stacked and were ready to be lit. "Sigurd and Sigurn? Would you like to help me light them?" He smiled at the third year twins, chuckling at their eager nods. He picked up three bundles of dried herbs and handed two of them over. "These herbs – sage, and rosemary – could anyone tell me what they mean?"

One of his students raised his hand. Salazar nodded to the sixth year. The boy drew himself up. "Sage is purifying and symbolizes wisdom. Rosemary honours our ancestors."

Salazar inclined his head. "Very good." Taking a bit of flint out of his pocket, he lit the end of the bundle of herbs before helping to light the bundles the twins were holding. "Go on then," he said quietly and stepped up to the middle bonfire. Sigurn took her bundle over to one of the others while her brother went to the opposite side. They looked to their professor then, waiting for his signal. He gave them a nod and then looked to the wood in front of him. He took a deep breath and then held the burning herbs aloft. "Tonight is the night when the gateway between our worlds is thinnest. Tonight is the night to call out those who came before. Tonight I honor my ancestors. Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you, and welcome you to join me for this night. You watch over me always, protecting and guiding me, and I thank you. Your blood runs in my veins, your spirit is in my heart, your memories are in my soul. With the gift of remembrance, I remember all of you. You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within me, and within those who are yet to come." He could hear others murmuring the words behind him.

Salazar then tossed the burning herb bundle amongst the logs. Sigurd and Sigurn copied his movements before hurrying back to stand with their parents. It took a moment, but all three bonfires caught and went up in flames. Salazar took a careful step back and then motioned to a basket. "Please. Any of you who wish to part with anything, write it on the provided sheets of paper. You only need to grasp the charmed parchment and think of what you wish to write. Then throw it to the flames. There are other stations to enjoy once you are finished."

There were various booths set up with different divination methods. Granger had been particularly against these until Blaise had explained it to her more in depth. This night it was recognized that the Veil between worlds was at its thinnest. The divination tools were not meant to look to the future, but to communicate with the dead. The tools could also be used in a more meditative manner, to focus on oneself and what one wanted to change for their future. They had provided runes, tarot cards, crystal balls, mirrors, candles, pendulums, and bowls of water. Salazar had wanted to cover whatever he could think of for the people to use. Of course, it might have also had something to do with providing a teaching opportunity to the children about the divination tools without the influence of Trelawney.

Salazar excused himself to stand within the shadows of one of the trees, taking a moment to just watch. The festival was a solemn one… but not in an all-encompassing way. Some took the opportunity to laugh, share stories. Others either went off by themselves for self-reflection or grouped together as families to reach out to those they had lost. To see it all… well, it made everything well worth it. This is what he would fight to protect.

"It is good to see you smile, Salazar. When he could not find you, I had feared that we had stolen your smile from you… and I dreaded what might have happened."

Salazar found himself starting at the wispy voice in his ear, a voice that sounded as if he was hearing it through a heavy curtain. He turned sharply on his heel to see Helga watching him with a sad smile. He couldn't find the words to speak to her, though his spine grew rigid. It was after a moment he was able to hiss, "And why should you care that you… stole my smile, as you say? You banished me from my home!"

"It was a spell, Salazar. Your brother… he bewitched our minds, turning us against you." Helga spoke bluntly, the shimmery image of the woman looking far older than Salazar remembered. Funny, since he had only just seen her a few short months ago. Time was a strange thing. "It sank into our minds like a poisonous cloud, infecting every nook and deep hole. We did not even realize what had happened. It felt like something had boiled over and we could not keep our logic, to think through our next course of action. And it had you banished." She looked so guilty that it almost made Salazar feel like he should be the guilty one.

This feeling raised up anger instead. "Yes, Fawkes told me that the guilt made Godric go mad and disappear. Do you think I should feel sorry for him? So, you say that Cayden's treachery ran deep, but what does that give me to heal? I trusted you all! I built Hogwarts with you and taught many of those children that had no family but me!" He hit his open palm against his chest, appalled to feel tears gathering in his eyes. "Do I not feel the right to be angry, to be hurt? Do you think all should just be bygones and I shall forgive you? You were not the only victim to fall to Cayden's curse!" A tear slid down his cheek before he could stop it. "I killed my brother, Helga! The brother I had loved and given my name! Just because I know…" Salazar's voice broke. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away. "Just because I know how deep Cayden's betrayal ran, it does not ease the pain of your betrayal. I need time."

Helga was silent for a moment before her image started to fade away. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. Rowena is sorry. We should have realized that something was wrong, we should have fought harder against the compulsion. I am sorry, Salazar. It was good to see you again. Be well." She disappeared a moment later and Salazar breathed out a sigh. He left his seclusion by the tree and joined the others. He shared a few stories of his own, mostly of his time at the Northmen's village.

After a time, a clear bell rang over the space. The gathered quieted and turned to see Luna standing by the pergolas with a welcoming smile. "Come. The house elves have outdone themselves." Salazar followed the others over to the tables and he sat himself down near the end of one. He found himself with a redheaded twin on either side a moment later, but only shook his head in fond exasperation. And wasn't that a notion? Fond exasperation. It was certainly something that he was fond of them at all, what with his history. He had promised himself to never grow close to anyone anymore, yet here he was. He thought his memories of Harry Potter that were bleeding through might have something of an influence.

Salazar waited for the others to all be seated and then gave Granger a nod. She gave him a nervous smile before holding up her hands. "Thank you all for joining us here at the table, all that live and all that come before us. We give thanks to beings both high and low, for blessings we have received and are on their way. May this food we share be blessed and may it fortify our spirits. May it sweeten our moods and support us on our paths. As we wish, so mote it be." She smiled happily then and clapped her hands, earning a ripple of laughs along the table. "Please, dig in!"

With a chuckle, Salazar started to fill his plate. He had allowed Granger to say the meal blessing and she had come up with a rather splendid one, he thought. She certainly seemed proud of it at any rate. Humming to himself, he grabbed a bit of everything. There were pork roasts seasoned with rosemary, roasted potatoes, and corn. Bram brack, a dark Irish bread made with dried fruit, rested alongside pumpkin bread and bowls of assorted nuts and pumpkin seeds. As for something sweet, both apple pie and pumpkin pie were laid out.

"You did good, Herrick," the twins murmured into his ears as George poured him a goblet of mulled cider. Salazar took it with a word of thanks but decided not to comment. The mirrored men on either side of him gave grins before digging into their own food. "These are the brightest smiles we've seen in a while. So, you did good." Salazar only nodded, his face composed but for the light pink tint on the tips of his ears. "Where is Einar, by the way? We have not seen him tonight."

Setting his goblet down after a sip, Salazar picked up a fork. "He celebrates in a solitary manner. After all, his people are long lived." The elf had lost many close friends since coming to Midgard, but he preferred to be alone during this time. Salazar could not blame him for his wish. This time of year had always brought him melancholy, though he had never really known why until returning to this time and having his memories slowly returned to him. His parents, as Harry Potter, had died on this night after all. He shook off the thoughts though and let himself be drawn into the laughter that was around him. The rest of the night passed rather uneventfully before he was helping to guide his exhausted students to their dormitory. It was in the early hours before dawn that he finally collapsed into bed.

Over the next couple of weeks – and as much as he had enjoyed Samhain – Salazar found himself glad that the night was over. He was able to throw himself into research. There had been little to find of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, the man who would become Voldemort. What they knew was that he had been an exceptional student with top marks throughout his years in Slytherin. There had been some educational awards, along with a special service to the school award that Granger mentioned having found in the school's trophy room. That was a room he had spent some time in, curious about it as it had not existed in his time as a founder. However... He felt odd, as if it was familiar. He had no concrete memories of it yet though. And was that not a strange thought?

In the Room of Requirement, they had set up a base of sorts. It was Granger's idea to set up a giant board to write down everything they knew about Riddle. She had managed to find records from an orphanage that detailed some of Riddle's childhood. He had been the product of a love potion which a near squib woman had used on a muggle man, though that information had not been contained in the orphanage documents but rather puzzle pieces that Granger had managed to pierce together. But if Riddle's existence was not evidence enough for the necessity of new blood in family lines, he did not know what would be. There was no doubt that Riddle was a powerful man, though his upbringing seemed to have had an adverse effect. But he digressed.

It seemed strange almost to find that the bright young man that had graced Hogwarts' halls would go on to become the man so feared that people would not even dare to speak his name. Though the Taboo would have had something to do with that too, fear for the man kept them from saying his name even during the period the world had thought him dead. Such a man just did not seem to have feasibly come from half-blood wizard Tom Riddle. He supposed that was the point, but then Granger had had a stroke of genius.

Muggle Psychology. The mind was something that would never be fully understood, but the muggles had come a surprisingly long way in coming to an understanding. With research based upon what little they knew about Riddle's time at the orphanage and Hogwarts, along with more widely known facts of his behavior during the wars, Granger had been able to come up with a diagnosis.

She called it the Dark Tetrad Personality. It combined labels such as psychopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism. Her explanation for the psychopathy was that it was rather plain to see that Riddle had no moral compass and was completely incapable of feeling empathy. From accounts he had gotten from Draco and Fenrir, his only emotions seemed to be rare moments of either gleeful joy or burning rage. The only other emotion, if one could call it that, would be disinterest. Then what they could tell from orphanage records – and accounts from the children who had once known him – he had displayed extreme anti-social and criminal tendencies from an early age. He would bully the other children and steal from them, while using torture to punish and intimidate others. There was no doubt either that he now was willing to commit murder without a thought for the victim's age or innocence.

Riddle was also a master of deceit and manipulative charm. The evidence of that was the following he had been able to gather while still at school. The boy at Hogwarts had shown the capability of projecting the persona of a smart, hardworking, brave, pleasant young man. Even if he did come from the House of Slytherin. Granger had also noted that his penchant for grandiosity was another psychopathic trait combining his impulsive nature, poor assessment of risk – though that might be that he just did not care – and the air of fearlessness he projected.

Granger's next point was Riddle's narcissism, though he had been at first rather unconvinced considering the state of the man's appearance. But then… Salazar did remember the tale he had heard in Helheim of Riddle pretending to still speak parseltongue. Draco too had confirmed that the man would hiss what Salazar knew would be only nonsense. Granger had gone on to say that it was not so much Riddle's appearance that showed narcissism, but that he had a concern with presenting an impressive image. The man's notable arrogance and sense of entitlement as the apparent Heir of Slytherin were also narcissistic tendencies.

Granger's next point of her Dark Tetrad was Riddle's apparent Machiavellianism. The witch explained that Machiavellianism was a personality trait that in which a person can be so focused on their own interests they will manipulate, deceive, and exploit others to achieve their end goals. That went along with his ability to project a charming young man. Salazar understood that Riddle would have had to be exceptionally well at manipulation if he had gotten to the point that he had done. It really hadn't needed to be further explained.

The last point that Granger made was Riddle's sadism. That seemed to be rather self-explanatory after Draco's accounts of Riddle torturing his followers at the drop of a hat, and his enjoyment of torturing muggles.

So, knowing all this, Salazar at first wondered how it would help them figure out his Horcruxes. But then he had realized that even though the most logical thing would have been to make any old object into a Horcrux to protect it with anonymity, Riddle's narcissism and psychopathic traits would not allow it. They knew he had liked to steal from the children at the orphanage. That meant that he enjoyed collecting trophies. What better use for his trophies than to make them his Horcruxes? His narcissism would ensure that his trophies would be grand to go along with the image that he was trying to project. He would be arrogant enough to go for artifacts. And what grander artifacts than those of Hogwarts' Founders?

Of course, that narrowed down the search… but it really did not make it any more than marginally easier. Salazar knew the other Founders. By Hel, he was one himself. But what history said the Founders favoured, and what had survived the centuries, was likely vastly different from what he could come up with. Yet, it was a start.

So, they had started a list. The memory of the Chamber that Fawkes had sparked reminded him of the diary. Knowing what he did of Horcruxes, he knew that was one they would not have to take care of any longer. He had needed the twins to seemingly come up with that knowledge however, not yet ready to expose his original identity. Luckily, if one could call it luck, Granger hadn't needed much prodding to come up with her own realization about the diary.

All they needed to figure out now was how many Horcruxes that Riddle had come up with. So far, they knew he had been one and that the diary had been one. Blaise had speculated that the man's snake, Nagini, was also another one as she never seemed to leave his side. Salazar thought he might have to, unfortunately, speak with Dumbledore sooner rather than later about the topic. The man would have been a professor at the time that Riddle was a student, so he would have known him. It was possible he could offer some clues they would need to track down the Horcruxes.

Shaking off his thoughts then, Salazar stacked some rolls of parchment and sighed. It was then that there was a knock at the door. "Come in," he called out absently while glancing at a small wooden clock on his desk to check the time. A gift from Luna who had said something about time. Apparently it was her idea of a joke, though he hadn't quite followed. That woman was a strange one. Still, at least it was a joke and not another mission she was sending him on. He already had enough on his plate.

"Professor?" Salazar quickly looked up to see one of his seventh years. "I am sorry to bother you, but there is a situation down in the Common Room," the young man said worriedly. Salazar stood immediately. "One of the fourth years was bragging about spells that his father taught him. He got into an argument with one of the other students and started threatening to use some of the spells." They were walking briskly down the corridor as Colton Corridge explained worriedly. "They haven't come to blows yet, sir, but I'm more worried about Orien Mulciber. I think... he's going through withdrawal, sir. Some of the spells... and I recognize the symptoms he's starting to show. I had an uncle succumb to addiction."

Salazar slipped his wand into his hand. "Thank you for coming to me," he said as he waved his wand, opening the hidden door quickly. He hurried down the steps into the Room and quickly flicked his wand. Two wands came soaring into his hand a moment later. "That is quite enough," he said acidly. "Both of you will serve detention with me tomorrow during lunch." He addressed the rest of the gathered students. "And tomorrow everyone will join me for a lesson after dinner. Mister Mulciber, you will come with me." He turned sharply on his heel, stalking back to his office.

Pointing to the chair in front of his desk, he ordered a sharp, "Sit." He went over to a cabinet then and rummaged around in it. He then set a vial down in front of the boy a moment later. "Drink." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his desk. The boy meekly drank down the potion, grimacing at the taste.

"What was the potion for, uh, sir?" The boy asked in a hushed voice. He seemed to understand that he was in trouble at least by the way he fidgeted and kept his eyes lowered.

Salazar plucked the vial up and placed it in a basket to be cleaned. "Dark Magic addiction. The potion will cleanse your pathways." The boy opened his mouth, but Salazar cut him off. "You will need a seven day regimen before your pathways will be cleansed enough to my standards. Now then. Do you wish to explain to me why you are suffering the effects of addiction withdrawal?"

The boy immediately clammed up and clutched his fists. "I don't see how any of that is your business… sir," he gritted the words out, looking down at his lap furiously.

Salazar sighed and crouched down in front of the boy. "Mulciber. That family name… the Dark Lord had a servant by the name of Mulciber." He stated it softly, searching the boy's expression. Orien flinched and his eyes darted towards the closed door. Salazar reached up and gently turned his chin towards him. "You are safe in these halls. The Mulciber who served the Dark Lord… he would be your grandfather?" Salazar had studied the names of known Death Eaters from the first war and the names of the current ones they knew.

Orien gave a shaky nod and swallowed thickly. "He… grandfather was imprisoned after the first war. Father was able to escape Azkaban because he was too young, hadn't taken the Mark. But when… he reappeared, he broke his Death Eaters out of Azkaban. Grandfather has been living with us. He forced my father to pledge to… him and said that he'll have me marked when I turn fifteen this summer. He's been… teaching me over the summer. I didn't want to, sir, I swear!"

The poor boy. Often the true victims of war were the children. They were forced to take sides in a war they did not understand, to take on the mantle of their parents – or grandparents – though they were far too young to even make their own choices. And his Slytherins were taking the worst of it, ridicule at the hands of the other Houses because of stupid misconceptions and childish feuds. "I don't even know why I was babbling about those spells to the others. I don't even remember what we were fighting about… I wouldn't ever use those spells on someone! Sir, you gotta believe me!"

Salazar focused back on Orien's pleading. He took the boy's hands and squeezed them reassuringly. "The symptoms of withdrawal include recklessness and arrogance. The feeling of the Arts makes one feel like they can accomplish anything with the power that flows through their veins," he explained softly. "Your grandfather did not take the necessary precautions and so you paid the price for it. Thankfully, I can treat the symptoms if they are taken care of before the addiction goes too far." He paused then and gave Orien a stern look. "You will come to me every morning for a new dose of the potion. I do not want to hear again of you threatening the other students." He would have loved to be able to teach his students the Dark Arts in a controlled environment, but that was something he could not risk at this time. "No practicing any of what your grandfather taught you while at Hogwarts. If you are forced to return home at any point, I will give you a course of potions that will prevent this from happening again. Alright?" It would be the only thing he could provide the boy with from a distance. Orien nodded in understanding at any rate. "Good. Now back off to your dormitory."

As soon as the boy had bolted off, Salazar went around to his seat and dropped into it with a sigh. Well, it seemed like he was going to have to give a lesson on the Dark Arts. The wards were calibrated to alert the headmaster if there was use of the Arts while in the school. As it was, the Dark Arts were a tricky subject. While not inherently evil, they did have a slippery slope if the proper precautions were not taken. It was one of the reasons why there was such a stigma behind them, in his opinion. Best case scenario was that he'd be able to teach his students the Dark Arts in a tightly controlled environment. However, that was strictly impossible. However, he supposed it was high time that he at least lectured them on the dangers of the Arts so they wouldn't be foolish.

So, the next night, Salazar ushered his students into the lecture hall. He closed the door behind him once they were all seated. Striding down the steps, Salazar looked over each of the students and silently counting to make sure they were all present. "It has come to my attention that I have neglected a very important lesson." He stopped near the desk in the center. "Fawley, tell me the difference between Dark wizards and Light," he commanded. The fourth year jumped before quickly schooling himself.

"Sir. It is the wizard's ability to channel magic. A Light wizard draws on their own Core, while a Dark wizard has the ability to draw on outside magic," he stated confidently. They had gone over this before after all.

Salazar gave a nod. "That is correct, though there are varying degrees to this ability. A wizard with a strong Dark affinity will find it difficult to draw on his own core to power a Light spell, but it is not entirely impossible." He paused to look at their rapt faces. "So who can tell me the advantage to Neutral spells?"

After a moment, fifth year Alfred Caldwell raised his hand. Salazar nodded to him. "The ability to draw on power to a spell that originated from a wizard's core?"

Salazar gave a little chuckle. "Correct. An example would be the Fidelius charm. It hides a warded area from anyone who does not know the Secret. It cannot be found through any means. The Secret Keeper must cast the spell from their own Core because they will hold the Secret. However, the magnitude of holding such a Secret would quickly drain even the most powerful. Most wards operate under the same principle so are a branch under Neutral magic."

His expression became stern then. "Now who can tell me why the Dark Arts are so dangerous? They are powerful because of how they draw energy, so why is that dangerous?" No one raised their hands. "In a Neutral spell, foreign magic is tainted by Core magic and is often not directly channeled through the pathways as the spell has already been anchored. With a Dark spell, the full force of foreign magic rushes through a wizard's channels. It is inherently many times more powerful than any one wizard's core. This feeling of power can cause madness if not carefully controlled. This addiction can cause a deterioration of the mind, especially with one who has a Dark affinity," he warned gravely.

He paused to let it sink in before continuing on to his next point. "Now, what then of creatures? Though their magic often differs from wizard kind, their affinity can be classified in the same way. As an example, werewolves have their own brand of magic. Most can still use wizard magic as long as it is Light or Neutral magic, though Neutral is usually far easier. Werewolves cannot cast true Dark spells as their pathways have changed. However, Lunar magic has been classified as Dark purely because it is a foreign magic. There are few truly Light classified creatures that utilize almost entirely their own core. Most are neutral or Dark classified, though the true classification is a Neutral-Dark mixture. Dementors, Lethifolds, and Nundu are some of the only true purely Dark creatures. Most wizards see only in black and white, so see no true distinction."

One of the second years raised their hand. Salazar nodded to her. "So, uh… werewolves would be truly considered neutral-dark, right? But the Ministry classifies them as Dark just 'cause they have their own brand of magic that only they can channel and the Ministry doesn't understand it?"

Salazar inclined his head. "Yes. That would be a rather apt description. Though I daresay that we might find that the Ministry will be pushing through some rather radical changes in the upcoming times," he admitted wryly. "Now then. I have a list of spells on the board along with their descriptions. I want all of you to pair up and discuss what you think whether their classification is of Light or Neutral magic. I shall give you fifteen minutes and then we will go over your answers. Some may surprise you."

Drawing his wand, Salazar drew the time in the air and then tapped it so the glowing letters started to count down. "Please begin."

((Page Break))

"This is useless!"

Salazar paused as he heard the snarl. He had just passed the cracked open door to the Room of requirement. Backtracking, he pulled the door further open. The Room was currently circular in shape and made of imposing stone. The walls were lined with motionless practice dummies. In the center of it all was Blaise, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. "Blaise?" Salazar ventured quietly.

"I can feel the magic," Blaise said with a growl, lifting his hands palm up. "I can feel it just under my skin. Lupin has been particularly useless, saying it will come easier if I would just take the wolfsbane poison. Greyback says it just takes practice. Not helpful. And at this rate, I would be useless in the event of an attack."

Salazar was silent for a moment before coming to a decision. "Attack me physically. Try to hit me," he stated. He shrugged off his robes, revealing the loose tunic and fitted trousers underneath.

Blaise appeared unsure. "My strength…" he stated slowly, but stopped with a shake of Salazar's head. Blaise sighed but threw a punch. It was sloppy, but it served the purpose that Salazar set for it. Moments later, he had slipped beneath Blaise's guard and had flipped him to the floor. He kept the man pinned to the ground in a choke hold before slipping away easily. "H..How…" Blaise coughed out, slowly picking himself up. Salazar stood a few steps away and didn't look winded at all.

Chuckling then, Salazar stepped back in and reached out a hand to help the larger man to his feet. They were of similar height, but Salazar was leaner and just a bit shorter. "I am no master of the art, but it is known as Glima." He regarded Blaise for a moment. "I will teach you. I have a firm grasp of the moves, but a partner would help my muscles commit to memory and give me better speed. Glima translates to 'flash' for a reason." He might even be able to put on some muscle. He would never be as bulky as Gryffindor, but it would be a far better cry than the scrawny brat of a boy he had once been. Already he was taller than he had once been at the very least.

"Yes, alright. If I cannot make use of my magic, I might as well have other tricks up my sleeve," Blaise said after a moment, a resigned look twisting his features.

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Do not give up on your magic. It will come to you in time. Especially if you stop forcing it. I recommend you try meditating."

"Yes, sir," Blaise said with a little quirk of his lips. Salazar only rolled his eyes in response.

Turning then, Salazar gathered up his robe and pulled them back over his head. "If you learn quickly, then I might show you another aspect of Glima that includes weaponry."

Blaise's eyes seemed to light up and he took off after Salazar. "Weaponry?" He echoed the word, which made Salazar smile.

"Ah, yes. We would have to find a weapon that suited you. I use a pair of knives myself as it was what I first trained with before I learned Glima, but I know my way around a few other weapons. Perhaps not a master, but I could lay a good foundation for you at the very least." He had the disadvantage of not having learned from childhood, though he had many years ahead of him to continue to learn. Especially with Einar's help, if he could convince him. "We shall meet here in the early mornings." He was up early normally anyways. "We can start tomorrow, if you like." When Blaise acquiesced, Salazar gave a chuckle and a little nod. "Perfect. I will see you then. For now, I have some essays I need to grade for my students as I have just finished my patrol. If you will excuse me."

Once he made it back down to his office, Salazar pulled his robe back off and hung it over the back of his chair. He summoned a house elf for some tea and then settled behind the desk. Pulling the first essay forward, he uncapped his red ink pot and picked up a quill.

It was around an hour later when there was a knock on the door. Salazar glanced at the clock as he settled down his quill. It was near midnight. "Come in." He wondered who it could be.

Granger popped her head in. "Hey. Professor Dumbledore is calling an emergency Order meeting. He asked me to fetch you."

"Of course. Thank you, just give me a moment." Salazar quickly dried the ink on the paper he had been marking and then put his supplies away quickly. As he stood, he grabbed his robes from the back of his chair and pulled them back on. He buttoned them with a wordless spell and locked his office as he made his way quickly after Granger. At the meeting room in the Headmaster's office, he took a seat between Frederick and Blaise. Only the newly turned wolf and the Weasley sons greeted him. Though he suspected Ronald's greeting was a result of the kick that Granger had graced him with beneath the table as she sent him her own greeting. The twins didn't even try to contain their snickering.

Malfoy suddenly breezed into the room and gingerly took a seat next to Blaise. He greeted them softly, his eyes flickering to Salazar. The emerald eyed wizard responded with a polite nod. It was then that the Headmaster appeared and took his seat at the head of the table. With his appearance, the room quieted down.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. And it is unfortunate that it is bad news that I have to relay." The Headmaster steepled his fingers as he leaned forward in his chair, his aged face lined with a grin countenance. "It seems that Riddle is finally making his move publicly in the Ministry. Minister Fudge is missing, according to a contact, though the public story is that he stepped down and retired to somewhere warmer. In his place, the Wizengamot is said to have had an emergency election of a man named Digby Malchilde." There were murmurs throughout the room, though none dared to interrupt the old wizard. "He was sworn into his office a week prior."

The murmurs grew louder. This was the first anyone had heard of this as it hadn't even been spoken about in the Prophet. "They are trying to keep the people calm," Salazar observed, silencing the others. "The attack on the Ministry was not written in the newspaper, the attack itself swift. I doubt that there are many who know the true extent of what happened and most are here in Hogwarts' walls." Salazar was quiet for a moment before realization bloomed over his face. "They are keeping the Dark Lord's association with the Ministry away from public view. He continues his reign of terror through raids, which cover his hunt for Tyrfing, while silently digging his fingers into the public, through the guise of the Ministry. He will have total control before any realize a thing." Riddle might be a mad man, but he was a smart one. And that made him all the more dangerous, even for all of his pride.

The Headmaster nodded grimly. "The Wizengamot has already passed two laws of which will be announced to the public come morning. Minister Malchilde will be assuming martial law in the wake of the attack on the Ministry and to combat the Death Eaters at large. Well, that will be the official excuse at any rate," the man revealed. He took a deep breath then, as if he was steeling himself for what he would say next. "The Wizengamot is also instating a Registration Act. Every wix must register themselves under the new Act. This includes their blood status, along with any proof they can provide if they wish to register as a pureblood. Any refusing to register, or are proved to have falsified a claim, may be subject to prosecution." The man sighed, looking every bit of his long years. "My contact believes magical affinity may be recorded as well."

Granger looked like she had angry tears in her eyes, her fists clenched in her lap. "It's like the Jewish Holocaust during WWII! They'll gather a bloody list of every wix, then the next think we know they will feed us some bullshit reason why muggleborns are inferior. They'll have that list to track down every unfortunate wix with muggle ancestry and…and…" She trailed off, choked up with anger.

Salazar bowed his head. "What of the school, Headmaster? Are they attempting to impose any changes?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not as far as we are aware. The school is protected by wards and they know I am Headmaster. It is my suspicion, however, that they may try to enforce the Registration Act on those who abide in these walls. When we inevitably decline, they may declare all of us criminals and we will not be able to step outside the wards without the risk of heavy prosecution brought upon us."

That would not bode well. "The wards will hold… but we will be trapped in a siege until the Dark Lord is defeated."

"And what of the muggleborns and any who have muggle blood in them? How are we supposed to protect them? We all know that Riddle controls the Ministry and he isn't going to let things stand for long. The Registry seems tame enough, but as Granger said, they'll come up with a reason to start a crusade against muggleborns. What are we supposed to do then? We can't house everyone in wizarding Britain," one of the wizards that Salazar did not know by name spoke up.

Granger seemed to perk up though. "Oh, but what if we can? The castle itself isn't big enough to house everyone… and it probably wouldn't be good to have so many people invading what is supposed to be a school anyhow. But the grounds… the grounds are very large, big enough to fit a small village. And what if we use wizards tents to make muggle like flats? They could fit… ten families each, if we stretch the wizarding space enough. Ten tents, that is one hundred families right there!"

"And what about supplies? It is all well and good to offer sanctuary, but then how would we get enough supplies to host such a large number? And wix are going to want to do their shopping. As soon as they step foot out of the wards, they will be at risk." That was Snape's rather dry voice. It sounded almost condescending to Salazar.

He could not help but speak up. "Do you have a better idea, Professor?" He gave Granger a little smile. "The idea does have merit, but magic can only stretch so far. Housing may not be a problem with the use of wizarding space, but Professor Snape does make a point. There are many logistics that must be thought about if we were to offer sanctuary to such a large amount of people as extensive as the muggleborns population of wizarding Britain."

"But we cannot sit around and do nothing!" The outburst showed just how frustrated the young woman had become. "Riddle is no closer to being defeated and we cannot just sit back as he murders everyone even minorly associated with muggles!"

A woman with bright pink hair leaned forward, a grim smile twisting her lips. "We all feel the same, 'Mione. And what we do is what we've been doing. We keep fighting. There will be casualties, yeah? Being with the Aurors taught me there is only so much you can do sometimes. But that doesn't mean you give up and stop fighting. People will die. But we'll make sure their deaths won't be for nothing. It's a harsh lesson to learn, a blunt one."

Harsh, yes, but true. Salazar cleared his throat. "We could look over Hogsmeade's wards. While not as extensive as the ones around Hogwarts, the village has been around since the time of the Founders. It is bound to have some powerful wards over it. At the very least we can ensure enough time for evacuation to the grounds should an attack occur."

"I do admire your dedication, miss Granger," the Headmaster suddenly spoke. "But mister Evans is correct that magic can only stretch so far. Hogwarts can only stretch her resources so far." Granger slumped back in her seat, defeated. "However, the thought that we should look over Hogsmeade's wards is not a bad one. If tampering was done to Hogwarts' wards, then it is not a stretch to think that Hogsmeade's might have been altered as well. William, if you would be so kind. Though I should think that mister Evans has enough on his plate for now, yes?"

Salazar wanted to protest being left out of the project, but he did know his limits. So, he nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, of course, Headmaster. Though I am willing to help with any questions William might need, if my expertise is needed." There were no parselrunes in the Hogsmeade wards, but that did not mean that was all he knew for wards. Still, he knew that William was a talented cursebreaker and wardsmith. He'd likely be just fine.

The Headmaster gave a smile. "Excellent." His expression hardened then and he shook his head. "It is unfortunate, but there is nothing else we can do for the moment. Unless anyone else has anything else they would like to add, I believe that this meeting has come to its end."

As Salazar stepped outside the door, he gave a tired sigh. The rest of his marking could be left for later. After all, as a professor, he did not have a deadline to return essays to his students. It was not something he did often, but he could push it off a few days in this case. He much required some sleep instead. Especially if he would be up early to start Blaise's Glima lessons. So, he made his way quickly to his chambers, not in the mood for conversation. Hogwarts was more than happy to provide him a quick route and a way to slip away without anyone catching him. Forgoing his normal routine to meditate, Salazar slipped into bed in record time. There he dropped into dreams of mazes and stealing golden eggs from dragons.

When morning came, Salazar woke remembering screams and sickly green. He knew only one spell that colour and it left him feeling ill as he slipped into comfortable clothing. The castle was soothingly quiet as he made the trek outside, his confusing dreams pushed aside for the moment. Once outside, Blaise joined him on the steps just a few minutes later. After a greeting, Salazar nodded his head towards the lake. "A run and then some stretches are a good way to loosen up. Follow me."

It was Blaise's new stamina that got him around their lap on the shores of the lake, which Salazar had estimated to be around roughly five kilometers in the modern measurements. It was a damn long run, but he found himself grinning as he led Blaise through some stretches. It had felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Once Salazar had deemed their muscles loosened enough, he demonstrated a few simple moves for Blaise. He set the man into doing them over and over again for nearly an hour. He ended up on his back quite a number of times once Blaise finally started to get a feel for the movements. As the werewolf helped him to his feet for another time, Salazar called a halt for the day. Some more stretches, which he had admittedly stumbled upon from an overheard conversation between quidditch players, would keep them from becoming stiff and they both then set off to get showers before breakfast.

Breakfast was already well underway when Salazar took his spot at the head table. He poured himself some coffee and then filled his bowl with oatmeal. It was when he was halfway through his meal when the owl post came through. An owl carrying the Daily Prophet perched in front of him first. Salazar paid the couple of knuts it wanted and unrolled the paper as the owl flew off. Before he could read any of it though, a large raven suddenly landed before him. He looked at it curiously and took the scroll it offered. English wix were not known to use ravens, preferring owls. However, the Northmen community did use the black feathered birds. Perhaps it was from Eirik? He tucked the scroll into his pocket for later. "Thank you." The bird stole a piece of his bacon from a nearby bowl before hopping onto his shoulder. Clearly, he was waiting for a reply.

With a shake of his head, Salazar ignored the curious looks and smoothed out the newspaper. The front page was the anticipated announcement of Minister Malchilde's new position. The wizard's photo showed a man of considerable girth. He appeared to be balding with a closely trimmed beard and whiskers. Halfmoon spectacles perched on a rather large nose. He looked rather harmless as he gave the camera a smile and placed a top hat upon his head. The photo looped from there.

Tucked inside the paper and its sepia hues was a full colour pamphlet. In cheery letters was written "The Registration Act." It put Salazar off his food, but he forced himself to read it anyways.

He was glad he did. The pamphlet detailed that each wix of Hogwarts age and older would be issued an identification card once they were registered through the Ministry. The cards were mandatory and necessary to enter Ministry sanctioned areas. They could not enforce it on Gringotts because of the treaty with the Goblin Nation, but Salazar had the feeling it would only be a matter of time before wix would need the cards to purchase items at stores, to enter anywhere. It was an extremely unpleasant surprise.

"Headmaster," he said as he lifted his head. The old man looked at him in askance, so Salazar held out the pamphlet. Dumbledore gave a grim nod, an open newspaper spread out in front of him. The Headmaster stood then, excusing himself. Salazar stood as well, knowing he had classes to needed to prepare for shortly and not feeling hungry any longer.

Once in his classroom, preparation took no time at all so he settled behind his desk to open the letter that the raven had delivered. The raven itself hopped up to sit on the back of his chair, ruffling its feathers. After he had unfolded the letter, Salazar glanced towards the signature. He was surprised to see that the latter was from Hilde, Eirik's daughter.

"Herrick,

You are probably surprised to see my letter. I enjoyed your visit and wanted to get to know you more. At the advice of my mother, if you would believe it. And it is not just because you told the best story! I would not say that it is boring here, but your arrival was a wonderful change from the norm. And it, well, made me take a harder look at what was happening outside the borders of our little community. In all truth, it scares me. My parents have never shielded me. I do not fear death. Rather, I fear living if England's evil wizard sets his eyes outward. I have already heard of his visit and what he left in his wake. I fear it. But are there not great verses about fear? My mother always said that we should not let our fear consume us, but let it become our strength. So, I am taking my fear and making use of it. If you have need of it, Herrick, I shall raise a war party of the likes we have not known in a long time and I will bring it to your aid. All you need is tell me.

Take care, Herrick.

Hilde Eiriksdottir"

"So, this is where you are! I have been looking for you everywhere this morning!" Salazar startled when the door pushed open and Granger appeared. She looked a bit harried, her flyaway hair a mess. Salazar wondered if she had even gotten any sleep the night before after the late meeting.

Setting down the letter, he raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Do you not have a class of your own that starts in…" He paused to look at his clock. "Well, in fifteen minutes."

Granger waved him off and set a stack of parchment down on the desk. "I just wanted to drop this off for you to look over. I was doing a bit of thinking about what Murkwood could be. Einar gave me a bit of inspiration. Did you know that the Forbidden Forest used to be known as the Black Forest? Einar said that it used to be known as Mirkwood once upon a time, though he doubts that it's the location for the sword. It got me thinking about the words themselves." She looked excited. "You see, Murkwood is actually the anglicized version of ah, Myrkviðr."

Salazar sat up straighter. He knew that word. He wondered if Angantyr was purposefully being misleading. "It means dark wood or dark forest." He had heard it used for a number of forests as it was more of a description than a name for any one forest.

Granger nodded quickly. "Exactly. So, I have come up with the possibility of six places. It could be the Ore Mountains, though that is closer to Germany so I have my doubts it's the real location. The second location is the Maeotian marshes, which is said to have separated the Goths from the Huns as written in the Hervarar saga. The third location is a forest I found mentioned that separated the Huns from the Burgundians. There is a forest too by the name of Kolmarden in Sweden that is mentioned in some legends."

She took a deep breath, spreading out the papers. "Ah, there is a remnant of a forest that is now known as Lunsen that is located south of Uppsala, also in Sweden. The last location… well, it's more just vague mentions in sagas. I did find mention of it as a place being between Asgard and Muspelheim, but we can probably write off that one. I doubt our dead king made it to what is probably a parallel plane." She was rambling quickly now. "Now I did a bit more research on Angantyr Heidreksson, what I could find that is. He was the king of what was known as Reidgotalandi. The land of the Goths. An Angantyr was mentioned in the Hervarar sage, though I'm not sure if they're the same. I think our best bet though is the Maeotian marshes!"

Salazar opened his mouth to say something, but she bowled right over him. "Now, the Maeotian marshes is a rather antiquated name for the swamp at the mouth of the Tanais river, or Don river. The marshes fed into the Sea of Azov which is above the Black Sea. The marshes are in modern day Russia! Its's the very edges of where the king reigned, but it's a place to start!" She didn't even look winded. "I thought maybe it would be in Sweden or something because in Uppsala is the first mentions of Tyrfing, but I never even thought about how far it might travel in the generations where it pops up through legends!"

Colour him impressed. And he was certain now she did not get a bit of sleep the night before. Salazar stood up then. "Granger. This is amazing work. We will look at it in more detail later, but for now we both have classes we need to teach." He pulled out a vial from his cupboard. "Here. Take some Pepper up." He held it out to her. "And, from what I understand, you have an empty block before lunch. Take a nap and then meet me down here. We can meet in my office and we can go over your research together."

Granger blinked at the vial before taking it after a moment. She downed the potion with a grimace, huffing as steam poured out of her ears. At least she looked more energized and not so maniac any longer. The younger woman then gathered up her papers, a light blush on her cheeks. "Yes, of course. Sorry about this, Herrick. I will see you at lunch!" She hurried to the door before glancing over her shoulder. "And, really, do call me Hermione! I think we're friends enough for that aren't we?" She left before he could respond.

Salazar dropped the vial with a shake of his head into a basket just as the door opened and Orien entered. The man looked over before grabbing another vial. He held it out to the boy wordlessly. Once the boy had taken the dose, Salazar gave a nod of his head. "Good. Head off to class now then," he said gently as he set the vial down. He only had a couple of minutes then before the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors entered, taking their assigned seats. Once they were settled, Salazar tapped the board behind him. "Let us get started."

They were working on the forgetfulness potion today. They would be going step by step through the potion today so there wouldn't be any actual brewing. Salazar wanted his students to understand the reasons why each step was why it was, why each ingredient was needed.

"Now, the forgetfulness potion is a fairly simple potion. Can anyone tell me what it is used for?" Salazar said as he leaned against his desk. He nodded to one of the Gryffindors. "Yes, miss Laney?"

The red haired girl lowered the hand she had been waving in the air. "Just as the names says, it makes the drinker lose his memory! I think it depends on how much is drunk, right?"

Salazar gave a nod. "Yes, very good. Five points to Gryffindor." He motioned towards the board then. "There are four ingredients. Water from the river Lethe, Valerian sprigs, mistletoe berries, and the standard ingredient. The Potion calls for first two drops of Lethe water. Can anyone tell me about the river Lethe and why we would use its water in our potion?" No one raised their hands, so Salazar gave a small nod. "In Greek myth, Lethe was one of the five rivers of Hades. Souls would drink from the water before being reincarnated so they would forget their past lives. The forgetfulness property of the water is thus useful for this potion."

One of the boys raised his hand and Salazar nodded to him. "Sir? So why not just drink the water straight? Why the full potion?"

"Ah, good question. Five points to Slytherin. Lethe is a river for the dead. A full dose of Lethe water, even a small sip, would be fatal to humans," Salazar explained. "Which is why next is Valerian sprigs. Valerian was once known as All Heal in ages past. It was recognized for its sedative and antispasmodic properties, and so was used as a sleep and nerve remedy. In the forgetfulness potion, it tempers the power of the Lethe water."

The door to the classroom suddenly opened then and Luna poked her head inside. "Herrick? Can I have a moment?" She asked with a smile. Her eyes did not have her usual twinkle, so Salazar excused himself after telling the students to read the chapter in their books. Once he shut the door behind himself, Salazar turned to Luna. She fiddled with one of her radish earrings. "William wanted you to come to the rune room as soon as you can. He says it's important. I will watch over your students."

Salazar hated that he was once more handing off his teaching to someone else, but whatever it was must be important if William was not going to wait until that evening. So, he gave Luna a nod. "Their homework is written on the opposite side of the board. We were discussing the forgetfulness potion." As she slipped into the classroom, he strode quickly down the corridor.

When he entered the room, William was standing in front of a projection of the rune matrix that powered the castle wards. He had his arms crossed over his chest. "Is there something wrong with them?" Salazar asked by way of greeting.

"I'm not sure." There was a pause before William sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Just a half hour ago, Riddle appeared at the barrier near the Forbidden Forest. He was not able to breech them because of our efforts, but Professor Dumbledore wanted me to go over them just to be sure. Riddle has some pretty black magic at his disposal and we can't take any chances." He rubbed at his face then. "Sorry about pulling you from your class, but you're the only other one who knows the wards well enough. I wanted a second pair of eyes to make sure that I wasn't going to miss anything."

Salazar slid his wand out of his holster and pushed up the sleeves of his robe. "This is the first I have heard of this," the wizard said grimly as he brought up the first line of code, sparing a glance at William.

The Weasley had his own wand out and gave a nod without turning his attention to Salazar. "Yeah… Dumbledore did not want to spark panic, I guess. And Riddle was only apparently at the ward barrier for a few short minutes. It seemed strange for him to be there in person and for him not to stay long. Though I suppose he wouldn't want to stay after realizing that he wouldn't be able to get in. Still, it doesn't mean that he couldn't have done something."

Considering that the man had used some pretty black magics to get through into Helheim, Salazar felt their caution was entirely justified. So, he sent a note off to Luna detailing his class plans for the day as he wasn't sure how long he would be to go over all the wards. He also sent a note off to Granger to cancel their lunch meeting. Salazar settled in then, carefully going over each line of the matrix.

It took them until lunchtime to finish, having gone over everything twice just to make sure that they had not missed anything. Nothing seemed to have changed, nothing missing and nothing added. It seemed they had been very lucky in that regard, surviving the first real test of the wards. But now it meant that Riddle knew that they had strengthened the wards. How the man would respond was anyone's guess.

William thanked him for the help and Salazar hurried off to eat something before his class of fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They would be doing the Invigoration Draught today, having already discussed it the Friday before. He needed to get the classroom prepared.

When he entered the classroom, the raven from earlier jumped down onto his desk and ruffled its feather with a deep caw. "Ah, yes. A lab with brewing potions is no place for a bird." Luckily, this would be the first time students would actually be brewing something that day. He offered it his arm and it hopped right up. "I will give you a letter tonight for your mistress." The bird called again, which brought a small chuckle from Salazar. He called then for a house elf and asked for it to bring the raven to his room. He should have done it earlier, but it had honestly slipped his mind.

Once the two creatures were gone, Salazar rolled up his sleeves and quickly prepared for the lesson by setting out the needed ingredients at each station. Once finished, he settled at his desk for the students to arrive and got a bit of a head start on the essays he still needed to grade. And if he took a small dose of Pepperup potion, that was no one's business but his own.

((End Chapter))

Hey, guess what, darkanomoly?! I added Tonks! Because you know what? I honestly completely forgot about her… Heh. Oops. Thanks for reminding me! I probably did a terrible job, but I'll try to remember to bring her up again!

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and it was worth the ridiculous wait.