Disclaimer: As always, anything you recognise from the novels by J.K. Rowling belongs to her and I make no claim on it, anything else however is from my weird imagination.


This chapter contains tenth century battle scenes and scenes of dueling, which include descriptions of the injuries inflicted.


Chapter 21

Resurrection.

Tenth Century:

Each one of the Northumbrian Lords in Styr's Fyrd began to urgently issue orders to their men, just over half ordered their men to retreat from the battle field. After what they had seen and heard in the last few minutes together with how the King had behaved, they preferred to leave and see what, if anything, they could salvage of their homes. They were the first to discover they were surrounded, trapped in the valley. The moment they became aware of it, they found themselves somehow transported to an open field, they did not know where. A Girl, not much over twelve, approached the men who had appeared closest to where she had been sat on a chair, apparently waiting for them to arrive. "Which of you is your Lord?" She asked.

The men indicated to him as he stepped forward. "Where are we? We were told we would be returned home." He challenged, but if he thought it would intimidate the girl, he was sadly disappointed.

She shrugged. "Gather all the Lords, whichever of you can read can then read this parchment to them all, they can then either tell the men and their entourage or not, it is up to you." She handed him a roll of parchment, then with a pop, similar to that heard when the man who called himself Styr's teacher had left, she and her chair disappeared.

The Lord unrolled the parchment and read it to himself, looking up he noticed others were trying to get out. He noted that they soon found that although there were no guards, they could not leave the field, soon settling to await whatever would come. He turned to his men. "Go get the other Lords, tell them I have a message from our captors, if they wish to hear it, they are to gather here immediately. Get the men to set camp for the day." He ordered them, they quickly spread round the field delivering the message.

Within minutes the Lords were gathering, tents erected and fires lit, wood appeared nearby for their use, together with barrels of water, and baskets of food. Latrines appeared on the opposite side of the field, it seemed their captors were ensuring their needs were looked after. With the Lord's gathered he read out the parchment to them, it assured them they would be able to return to their homelands if they wished, by the next day at the latest. They were warned that any attack on those who assisted them, would result in swift retribution, they should be patient as there were already a large number of their countrymen held elsewhere who would also be returned. The Lords may not be pleased not to be sent home immediately, but they accepted that their captors had other priorities for the moment, they reflected they would not have gone to so much trouble if the positions were reversed. The one thing the mornings events had told them was that battle they had left, was no longer theirs, or even Northumbria's, but Styr's.

Those Northumbrians still in the valley formed a long straight shield wall, each shield overlapping with its neighbour, the least experienced men held the shields with layers of the more experienced forming rows of similar walls behind them, ensuring the fearful and inexperienced could only move forwards or be trampled to death by those behind. Then began the period of intimidation before shield walls engaged. The sound of the Northumbrians beating the inside of their shields, thundered through the valley, accompanied by the yells of the men in time with the rhythm they were beating out and insults aimed at the Scots, who had yet to form a visible wall of their own.

This was Utred's first signal, battle was now inevitable, he and the Creaftas grinned from their position, hidden in the trees on the plateaux below the hills above the valley, but out of sight just below the ridge to it. They were almost in line with one end of the Northumbrians shield wall, just slightly behind it, the ideal position for their task, which was to remove as many of the battle veterans as possible from behind the wall, as early in the battle as they could, using a tactic none of them had tried before. It was a strategy designed to intimidate and decimate men, at the very least dispersing them, causing chaos in the line, undermining the walls strength before it could be used offensively. Utred readied himself and his men, fear mixed with adrenaline coursing through him, firing him for what he was about to do. Once he had committed them to this course, men, the father, son, or husband of many women were going to be badly injured and die, the usurper was in for a surprise.

The lights of a multitude of spells soared from the ridge where the banners were displayed, cutting through the air towards Styr's army, amongst a cloud of flaming arrows, again launched from the head of the valley. Shields in the wall instantly rose to protect the men below, but both arrow and spell fell deliberately short of the wall, causing laughter and insults to rise amongst the Northumbrians, one of them breaking the line to show his bare arse to the Scots. The laughter was brief, cut short when a dull flame rose quickly from damp grass, spreading across the valley floor far more swiftly that the conditions would have allowed naturally. It was a spell driven conflagration, creating thick white smoke which swiftly spread through the line, across the valley bottom, obscuring their view. The magical fire took hold of the dense undergrowth, burning without destroying, its dense smoke causing the Northumbrians laughter to change to the sounds of choking on the now acrid air, their lungs soon craved. Their eyes began to sting and water, their shield wall falling apart as they gasped for clean air.

The noise of thundering changed from the sound of shields being struck, to that of stampeding horses. The Northumbrians were terrified, they could not see which way to run through the tears and smoke, the sounds of men choking and vomiting adding to the cacophony assaulting their ears. Suddenly screams and the sound of blade on flesh, shield and bone joined the macabre symphony building in the valley, first the metallic scent of freshly spilled blood joined the stench of smoke, quickly followed by the addition of the unmistakable aromas of vomit, urine and excrement, as the fears of the men began to manifest physically, along with the natural reaction to the sudden death of a man. Out of the dense fume came shapes on legs, so many legs, moving swiftly through the men, carrying death to the Northumbrians in the form of blade sweeping down to bite into it's victim, cutting and slicing through flesh, sending showers of blood into the air only to fall as a gruesome rain on those around The force of the mounted attackers swords even smashed through skull and limb protected by Helm and mail of those rich enough to own them, those who couldn't lost limb and life, bodies of both falling to the ground where, for some, their life spilled from them as quickly as innards and blood.

Above the magically low lying smoke that dispersed just above the Northumbrians heads, the Creafta's rode the Sliepnir, charging along the lines, cutting through the most dangerous invaders, making free with swords, slicing flesh and bone as the hooves of their mounts trampled others to the ground. The air filled with screams, blood and flesh as they wreaked havoc with the unshielded rear ranks of experienced fighters, who had no time to react before their attackers were gone. They reached the other side of the valley and turned, they could see the disarray they had caused, the men of what had been the shield wall did not know which way to face, they stayed on the spot, not daring to walk forward on the increasingly wet, slippery ground simply turning on the spot, trying to see the assailants. Another wave of arrows cast a swift moving shadow over the grey cloud filled sky, this time easily reaching the lines of Northumbrians, some raising their shields as they heard the woosh of the arrows flying through the air, many were not so quick, a few were killed, more were injured, the lucky ones were just scared further as they thudded into the ground. Once the flying shafts reached their targets Utred prepared to lead the Creaftas through the lines again, neither wizard nor Sliepnir had received injury, so all would attack again whilst the chaos remained.

Once more they charged through the mayhem, just as rain began to fall, though Utred did not notice as the blood of the fresh victims sprayed him as their flesh and bone succumbed again to his sword. The cries of the enemy once again filled the air, as their bodies fell to the blood soaked ground, the rain hardened as lightening streaked across the sky, yet Utred still did not notice it through his blood lust and the singing of his sword. It was only when he reached the trees where they had started that he noticed the rain falling. The Scot's opening strategy had, so far, ensured they had lost none on their own side, though a couple had sustained minor injuries, a few cuts and grazes at most, for now.

Another cloud of arrows arced gracefully through the air, to fall on the Northumbrian lines, that sent their victims back, away from the now fearful wall of wood thudding into men and ground. Utred saw hundreds of men attempting to flee the battle, they would be captured by the Scots who had closed off that end of the valley. Styr's fighting force was beginning to crumble, though he still had thousands of men capable of fighting standing their ground. The rain was damping down the fires, the smoke clearing, as the magic powering them waned, they could see Styr's men desperately reforming their wall, facing the head of the valley, their backs turned on the gore being revealed as the smoke cleared behind them. It mattered little now, the Creaftas task was done, fear had been effectively spread through Styr's men. Another wave of arrows and spells flew, further thinning the numbers, until they put shields over their heads again. Styr, the priests and his guard were now separated from their army by a thick moat of dead flesh strewn over the field, now revealed between them.

"My God!" A rotund priest exclaimed, shocked at the carnage before them.

"What's wrong with you, you fat Friar, what did you expect? War costs lives and we are not done yet you coward." Styr sneered, then furiously turned to face his army.

He bellowed orders in his fury at the failure of his Fyrd to stand its ground, the fearful Northumbrians ignored their own dead and wounded lying on the blood wetted ground, some slipping as they repeatedly spun round, watching for the next attack, unsure which from which direction it would come. The wind dissipated the last of the smoke from the valley, and the inexperienced were chivvied back into line by the remaining veterans.

The Creafta's, still mounted on the Sliepnir, looked down from the ridge at the chaotic scene beneath.

"We have lost the smoke, but it served its purpose, we have spread fear and thinned their numbers." Utred grinned, the sight most disturbing as his white teeth showed through the crimson of his blood soaked beard.

A silvery form arrived, it was Godric's Patronus. "Enough, your part in that is done, we shall send in the wall, watch for stragglers, we shall deal with Styr once his army is under control." It instructed, before dissipating.

The Creaftas grins grew grim, the most costly part of the battle was about to begin.

A new thunderous sound rolled down the vale from the ridge, the Northumbrians looked up, again their eyes betraying the fear of what they could hear approaching and would see soon enough. Their shield wall was a shadow of its former self, disorganised and thinner, weaker. Still the noise they could hear was not what they would expect from the shields of what they had been told would be nothing more than a small, disorganised rabble. The volume of the rhythmic rolls of noise belied that belief, even before they could see the size of the army they faced, they knew it was far larger and far better organised than any of them had believed possible from those of this land. It was the sound of a well disciplined army, of a size that as now probably as large or larger than their own after the losses they had suffered since crossing into these lands. Then the shield wall rose into view, marching steadily, purposefully, inexorably towards them, they quailed at the sight that was descending from the ridge of the valley on three sides of them. The tangy aroma of fresh urine again joined the steely scent of blood amongst the Northumbrian ranks, as the valley side before them blackened with the numbers opposing them, a thick ribbon of heavily armed men, steadily sweeping down towards them, including what appeared to be a large army of Viking warriors among them. The fear alone rooted most Northumbrians to the spot, unable to run, incapable of escape from the horror approaching.

"Shield wall, now." Bellowed Styr.

The remaining Lords repeated the order, desperately trying to shake the men into action as their enemy reached the floor of the valley and continued to march towards them, rhythmically beating their shields with each step. That was the thunder, along with the noise of chain mail, there were no insults being shouted, nor blood curdling yells, these men knew that the mere sight of them was enough to intimidate any they faced.

Even as the Scots shield wall continued towards them, it changed, appeared to morph until it was not just a simple line moving towards them. As it had reached level ground, the men in it had smoothly, with no break in the wall, formed the deep saw tooth edge of a boars tusk formation. It was a manoeuvre only possible to achieve with well trained, highly disciplined and practised men in the wall, not something attempted lightly, but when carried out successfully, was intended to intimidate, as well as being an effective attack and defence measure. It might be a formation formed before advancing, but rarely seen or attempted on the move, especially over so long a line. Made up of thousands of men on three sides of the valley, the Scots wall was more than formidable, it was like gigantic teeth closing on there prey.

The Northumbrian shield wall was still forming as the boars tusk line closed, the men looked behind them, hoping for a route to escape, another wall of Scots, in the same formation, appeared from the trees and bore down on them from there. They were surrounded, trapped, Styr was silent, horrified at the vision before him. He had allowed himself to be surrounded in a vulnerable position, he had but one option open to survive, but fear and desperation blinded him to this chance. He shot into his tent, the terrified priests with him, his cohort of guards abandoned the wall and surrounded the shelter defensively, just as their shield wall braced in a line, they did not have time to take up any other formation to stop the Scottish wall. They were joined by three of Styr's most loyal Lords with their men, a little over a thousand men in number now solely defended the canvass structure.

The rest of his men may have formed as deep a shield wall as possible, with shields front and back, but they were already out flanked. The Scots maintained a steady pace towards them, unrelenting in their progress down the slope towards them. They reached the tent first, surrounded it with sufficient men to hold it and separate the thousand men from the rest, the gap in their lines was quickly filled as it closed on the main Northumbrian force. The two walls met, the Northumbrian defensive line buckled then crumbled as the points of each tusk crashed into them, still they fought back, convinced by the men behind them that the Scots may be flashy in their approach, but would be no challenge in a fight, they lacked the skill with weapons and would soon break ranks.

The Scots relentlessly surged into them, dividing the Northumbrians as front, side and rear ranks bit savagely into the invaders, the men behind replacing the fallen in the zigzag walls, treading over and on their dead as well as the dead of the enemy while their wounded activated the device they had been given and disappeared. Unrelentingly hacking their way forward, never stalling, swords, axes, knives and bill hooks slashing and stabbing, sending Northumbrian blood and flesh mixing with other bodily fluids into the air, the Scots wall progressed steadily. They pushed relentlessly through the Northumbrian Fyrd, sending those who surrendered to the field to join the ones who had left earlier, together with the enemy wounded, using tokens spelled by the Wizards. Gryffindor's Phoenix dove into the mass repeatedly, gripping a wounded warrior, then with a flash disappearing with them, only to reappear in a ball of flame above them. The smell of death rose with the blood, the distinctive mixed scent of body fluids, vomit, death and flesh trodden into the sodden soil beneath their feet, hung over the scene as the brutal battle was fought. The Northumbrian wall disintegrated, fragmenting the battle into many individual desperate frenetic fights amidst the carnage, black Ravens massing to circle above, waiting their chance to swoop down and feed once the fighting was done. Each combatant was no fighting to keep his footing as much as their life as they swung their weapons, the dead and other remains creating as much a hazard as the weapon of the man they fought.

Like all battles, it was not glorious or honourable, it was merely a bloody adrenalin and fear fuelled, horrific effort to kill in order to avoid being killed, it was filthy and smelly, no more than a raw endeavour of survival for those who fought next to their friends and brothers. The Northumbrians fought hard, fuelled by a desire to live, but the Scot's wall had, inevitably, held longer and slowly, relentlessly they overwhelmed the invaders. Over an hour of slaughter, of men killing and wounding men, of slipping and sliding over the remains of the fallen, of screaming, tiring, hard relentless fighting and death had passed before the meagre remains of the main Northumbrian force finally surrendered. They dropped their weapons, were bound and port keyed to join their comrades who had left the field earlier in the day. Constantine intended to allow the Muggle captives the choice of settling in Scotland or returning south of the wall once the invaders were completely defeated, the founders and Utred would decide what to do with the magical captives.

This stage of the battle was over, there as heavy loss on both sides, but the invader was defeated, all that remained was to deal with Styr's core of men still surrounding the tent where Styr remained. The Scots surrounding them offered a chance to surrender, the moment the others had been dealt with, it was an offer summarily and instantly, refused. This fight, in contrast to the larger just fought, was fast and vicious, it was concentrated in front of the tent, the Scot's vastly out numbering the tents guard who soon fell as blood flew again into the air, staining all and the canvas a deep red, matching the ground on which they had stood. Within moments most of the remaining surrendered, with little effort to assist their compatriots in front of the doors.

Utred watched proceedings from his Sliepnir, the founders, Brida and Constantine joined him on their Horses. "Lets go." Constantine stated bluntly and led the way down, through the battlefield towards the tent.

The priests now inside the tent were furious with Styr, not only had he struck one of them, but he had lost many loyal Lords and men. Topping off his ignominy by shoving them into this tent and hiding like a coward instead of fighting the pagan barbarians as his men outside were doing. Initially and certain that despite his earlier act, they were protected as clergymen, they had angrily told him what they thought of his behaviour, urging him to return to the righteous path of their God.

He silenced them with a casual wave of his wand. "You worms, you have no idea what is going on here. This is reality, not some fantasy, this is deeper, more powerful than your church. I manipulated your church to my ends, not yours, this is my game and I shall win in the end." He hissed at the now wide eyed priests, then grinned maliciously. "Despite the treachery of your church, this battle is not over yet, we just need a change of venue. If they are all here, then the castle is undefended, easy pickings, ripe for the taking and once I have it would be easy to keep it for ever without any effort and just a few men, neither your church nor those fools out there could get it from me. I will show your beloved church they picked the wrong man, I will get my kingdom back and nail Wessex and Hrothweard to their cathedral doors, how dare they betray me."

The men of the church cowered in the corner at this obvious evil from the man they had placed on the throne, the man that had persecuted the magic wielding pagans for them. They began to see that Styr had fooled them, the man who claimed to be his mentor, his teacher, had been right. The King they had supported was a Wizard, an abomination to their church. For most of the time the fighting took place outside, they simply watched Styr pacing round the tent angrily. They struggled to shout at him, but no matter what they tried, they could not make their voices heard. They had obviously been bewitched, they prayed their God would free them, the sounds of battle raging outside did nothing to convince them they would survive.

"Guard!" Styr bellowed suddenly.

One of his chosen men entered the tent. "Your majesty!" He bowed.

"Prepare the men to transport the loyal by Portkey, this tent will be the object, ensure all of us will be taken with it. Warn me when the delegation from the enemy approaches to attempt to take our surrender, that shall be our signal, this is far from over."

"Yes sir." The man replied then went back outside.

Styr busied himself casting spells on all parts of the tent, turning it into a Portkey to a destination he could only just visualise, but could sense was not far, as swiftly as he could, he added charms that would take the magic required from each Wizard it transported. It was a much more complicated process than the one used to create an ordinary Portkey, two factors influenced it, the large number of people and the fact that he was not, by any means, familiar with the destination point it was to take them to. Then he sat in his chair, placed on a small dais, glaring at the silent, praying priests and listening to the noise of battle outside.

They waited until the noise subsided then waited a while more, stiffening as renewed screams of slaughter, closer than before reached them, a small red rivulet began to seep under the canvass, slowly creeping towards the Priests.

Then a harsh whisper came from outside. "Majesty they come."

"Are all ready?"

"Those of us who survive are my King."

Styr turned to sneer vindictively at the priests. "Hold tight or not even your nailed god will save you from the pagans that approach, touch the canvass if you want to live." He touched the tent with his wand. "Prepare to witness my victory, then we shall deal with the whelp from Wessex and that treacherous Archbishop who dared give him my throne." His mouth curled into a predatory grin. "He will regret crossing me, I shall enjoy making that filth squeal like a pig, as he slowly dies, nailed to the front of his Cathedral next to Wessex, while I slowly disembowel him, then burn it to the ground."

The priests grasped the canvass, quaked in fear.

"That cowardly Earsling." Constantine spat, as the tent and Northumbrians around it disappeared.

"Don't worry, we have a trace on them." Tigelwotta grinned, placing his wand back in his sleeve.

Salazar smirked. "Tell me again why you wouldn't have done well as my apprentice?"

"I'm far too good looking Sal." Tigelwotta replied, causing everyone to laugh.

They ordered their army to prepare to leave the valley, Utred looked round at the battle field. Wizards were sending any surviving Northumbrians, whether injured or not, to join the other captives, any who still had any fight in them were bound before being sent. They were busily sending any injured Scots away to where the healers could treat them. The once green vale floor was red with the remains of battle, the bodies of men from both sides laid together, Raven already arriving to pick at the remains. The rain was already starting to wash the blood into the soil, doing its part in the cleaning of the ground, soon detached flesh would be taken by birds and animals, anything left afterwards would add fertility to the ground. Nifflers were already erupting from the ground gathering anything shiny they could, many of the survivors were doing like wise, Helmets, weapons, mail, arm bands and coin, in fact anything valuable or useful was gathered by man and beast. Men began digging a pit where the tent had been, whilst others brought timber and still more began to collect the bodies, both Scots and Northumbrian, placing them ready to be added to the pyre. No longer were the dead Northumbrians the enemy, but an honoured warrior just like their own were, all are equal in death. A grim task, but not without its rewards, those men who were gathering anything useful or valuable from the battlefield, or collecting the dead and building the pyre would earn their reward. All the treasures would be gathered together in front of the Constantine, Godric, Utred and Brida, who would distribute it amongst the Lords who would reward their men from it, but a portion would be distributed to these men first, before it was then divided equally. Any flesh that could not be gathered for the Pyre would be left, to feed beast and soil, a gift to the land they had fought on and damaged, ironically meaning this land would be amongst the most fertile in the area from next year.

Utred sat watching, flanked by the Creafta's, in the strange lull, knowing the battle would resume soon, they had planned for this, just in case Styr managed to escape as he had done. They knew the castle was safe, but still they knew for the Wizards at least this fight was not over. They had returned Thorfin to his cell by port key as soon as their shield wall had set off, they ere not going to allow him to interfere, or risk his rescue. For now all they could do was wait, they suspected the desperate ex-King would have gone to the castle, but needed confirmation before they acted. After just a few minutes, a glowing message spell arrived at Tigelwotta's side. "Hogsmeade by the wards of the castle." It announced curtly.

Godric sent red sparks high into the air, the Creafta's and founders dismounted, the Sliepnir would lead the others back, they knew they were not needed for the next part of the battle. The wizards still present gathered in response to the call of the sparks, while the Muggles who were not clearing the dead began to form up for the march back to the Castle, the camp had already been struck. Constantine nodded then rode towards the gathering column of Scots, followed by the Sliepnir, ready to lead them all, back to the castle, as soon as all was ready and the fires were lit. Everyone was now so distracted with what they needed to do, no one noticed that instead of riding off with Constantine, Brida dismount and move close to Utred.

Godric addressed the Magicals. "Styr has about a thousand men who were still gathered around the tent he cowered in, some of them wizards. They are now next to the castle, between it and the village, he means to take it, the students and creatures can hold out for a while, and they have wards to protect them, but they need us to help defeat the betrayer. You all know what to do, you have your Port keys, it's time to defend our kind."

A shout went up and they began to Portkey to their posts. Utred lifted his fathers ring from beneath his tunic, touched it with his wand, and felt two arms clasp round him. "Not without me you don't Utred." A female voice announced as he felt the familiar tug and they left the valley.


They could see smoke rising in the distance, from where they stood watching from the tower on the castle and knew there would be much more close to the ground in that distant valley, an hour or more march away. The camp, now almost devoid of men, who had gone to battle along with the few Shield maidens in the Scottish Fyrd, had been moved behind the castle. There the women and children of the Scots army sat by the cooking fires waiting news and the arrival of the wounded.

From their vantage point they could just see the Centaurs lining the edge of the forest, knowing there were other inhabitants of the vast wilderness waiting there too, in case Styr made a successful break for the castle. Because the Usurper had been here, they knew it was possible he could transport himself and a number of men close to it, even if he could not get past the wards as those linked to it could. The wards were up, protecting the castle, grounds and those within from anyone with ill intent towards the school or those who resided in it, they were as safe as they could be, but still they were nervous. They could go on the offensive as well, though they were unlikely to actually defeat any, but the smallest Northumbrian force, they would be able to hold them off until the Wizards and Witches who had gone to the valley returned. This day would decide the future of the world they lived in whether Scot, Celt or Magical.

Those on the tower were watching the area carefully, although the wards would sound a warning if an invader arrived in the area by magical means, it would not tell them where the enemy had appeared. A careful eye was needed to spot any change, those in the castle beneath them were relying on the twelve that had been assigned the task, they were determined not to let them down. House loyalty did not matter, although as it happened there were three from each, they knew the weight of responsibility was the priority, not house pride. They watched as dark storm clouds moved over the place where they knew the battle was taking place, they saw the rain falling from it like streaks of mist attaching the cloud to the ground, the single flash of lightening illuminated the sky. The storm cloud stalled as it met higher hills, only rising over them slowly as the rain emptied into the valley beneath. They could only hope that the events underneath were going better than the weather they could see above, no one enjoyed fighting under rain, it could easily cost additional lives.

Soon after, they noticed the arrival of port keyed wounded begin in the camp below, the women instantly leapt into action. These were their own men being sent from the field for treatment, with a flash Godric's Phoenix transported a small group of the injured to the camp as well. Helga ran from the castle, leading a team of students, all with wands and bags full of potions, though they would not be sufficient for all the wounded that would arrive, it was a start. They began helping the women and soon a steady stream of people too-ing and fro-ing from the doors began, each carrying additional healing potions to the injured as required. They knew the stock held in the castle had been bolstered over the last few weeks, though there were still students making more of those that would be ready quickly as well, they all hoped they had enough for all who needed them. The flow of injured arriving was relentless for over an hour, some of the most seriously hurt were carried into the castle for more intensive treatment, some who could be healed quickly returned with Flame to the battle field to fight again the moment they could. Those more severely injured were treated as best they could be and taken to tents where they could rest and recover over time, but all this was done swiftly and smoothly without fuss.

The flow of wounded arriving continued, as did the number being healed and returning to the battle, until both slowed, then stopped completely. The twelve on the tower tensed, the battle in the valley could be over, then suddenly the alarm sounded.

It was Toki who spotted the change on the ground. "There!" He shouted pointing to a large tent with men around it. "Tell the others, I'll go delay them." He shot off down the stairs before anyone could stop him.


They landed, as planned, behind the Ollivander's house in Hogsmeade, his unexpected passenger fell to the floor, pulling Utred on top of her.

"Now Utred, much as I enjoy having you on top of me, now really isn't the time." Brida remarked. "What would Frayja say if she saw this."

"Probably something like, naughty Brida, let go of my husband, he more than likely stinks by the look of him right now anyway." Frayja laughed from where she had been waiting since the alarm had sounded over the area when Styr and his men had arrived.

Utred rolled Brida off him, then got up quickly from the compromising position.

"Spoilsport!" Brida grinned as she picked herself up.

"Brida, why?" He asked.

The Celtic Queen was suddenly serious. "You think I could calmly walk or ride back here with the bearded wonder while you were fighting here without me? Do you think I could be left behind by you Utred? I couldn't have stood it if something happened to you and I were not here for you, do you think I could have lived with myself for that? Can't you see that just like Frayja I want to be at your side, I need to be with you now, more than ever, you may not be mine, but I could not bare to lose you." She implored.

"But, Brida why would you put yourself at such risk? You could have killed us both doing that, it was incredibly reckless." He asked, missing the tears developing in her eyes, that in themselves said all that needed to be.

"I can see it Brida." Frayja said sadly, taking her hands in her own. "You truly love him as much as I do, don't you."

The Queens' tears fell freely as she nodded. "I'm sorry Frayja, I know he is with you and loves you, but I love him to and after what we saw and experienced in that battle, there was no way I was going to let him go without me."

Utred swore, but his wife took the Queen in her arms. "I know." She said sympathetically. "I have seen it for a long time, I think I always have, just hoped it would go away. Now is not the time for us to talk of this though, you are a Muggle in the middle of what will fast become a magical war, you are in more danger than you have probably been in before. We must work out how best to protect you, ensure you live through it, we can't leave you alone in one of the houses, the villagers are all up at the Castle. If we left you here and you were found by Styr's men I dread to think what they might do to you if you were here on your own."

The sound of spell fire could be heard mixing with the ring of metal meeting metal and thud of blade meeting shield not too far away from them, others had found the enemy already it seemed. The noise galvanised their resolve and speeded their decision, Utred placed a shield rune on Bridas' shoulder and stuck it there with a charm, he then disillusioned her.

"Stay close to one or both of us Brida." He instructed. "Be watchful, if any of the spells come close or anything happens to us, hide or hit the floor. We shall tell the other Creaftas when we reach them, but if anything happens to us go to Godric, he will remove the spell afterwards so go to him, but prank Sal if you can first."

Frayja looked at the spot the queen had occupied. " We shall talk afterwards, Brida." Frayja said gently.

"Yes Lady Frayja." They barely heard the soft, uncharacteristically meek response.

"Right, lets go." Utred grunted grimly.

They moved in single file through the narrow gap between the long houses, Utred leading, he glanced up and down the street once they reached the front, before emerging and moving swiftly up the uncharacteristically quiet street towards the school, the other two following him.

Styr and his men had moved away from the tent quickly after they had arrived, it was now on fire, he would not need it again. The priests were cowering on their knees by a tree nearby, their lips moving in silent prayer, when Utred found them.

"Does that actually work?" Utred asked them.

The priests had not seen or heard his approach and yelped in fright, opened their eyes briefly, one of younger ones of them literally wet himself, when they saw the blood covered, demonic looking figure before them, Utred laughed.

"Poor things, they are petrified." Frayja sympathised, the men opened their eyes again, gratitude in their eyes until she spoke again. "Should I put them out of their misery do you think my Lord?"

They yelped again and tried to back away. "No, they aren't worth it, bind them to keep them safe though, they could be useful later." Utred replied.

Frayja produced her wand and cast the spell, the priests suddenly found they were bound to the tree, out of harms way and where they could not interfere, they resumed praying. Utred and Frayja turned to look at what Styr's men were doing, as planned the students and magical creatures had let the Northumbrians onto the castles grounds, close to the gate, here they were being held, so long as all went well, it was where the trap would be sprung.

It was then he noticed something odd, something not in the plan, certainly something that should not have happened. Only one student was facing Styr's men, one solitary figure, alone behind the wards, defiantly throwing spell after spell at the invaders, who were frustrated at their inability to progress further. The student's stunner's invariably hit their target, one by one the Northumbrians fell, unfortunately only to be revived by one of their wizard cohorts, but still Toki laughed as another fell. Styr and his men were growing more discomfited as their own spells rebounded from the shields, they could not get near the solitary, defiant boy and nor could anything they threw at him.

Utred was growing concerned, he had yet to make contact with the rest of the group who they had returned from the valley with, he knew he had been delayed by Bridas' little escapade, but he should have found them by now. He was glancing round the trees nearby when, at last, he saw them. Godric and Helga were leading a group stealthily up from the lake, that was half of them at least, Frayja tugged his arm, he looked at her and she pointed in the other direction, both groups were out of sight Sty, for now. He looked up the hill, Salazar and Rowena were leading the rest of the Scots wizards and witches down from the other direction, the other Creafta's were not with either group though.

"We must join up with more of our people." He urged. "This will soon be Styr's only escape route, we can't defend it on our own."

"Best go through the woods, keep out of sight." Frayja replied. "Brida, what ever you do, stay close."

"Don't worry, I will." Came the nervous reply, it sounded like the Pictish Queen had realised she was out of her depth.

Although she had seen Wizards sparring, even Utred and Godric duelling, seeing the curses being thrown towards Toki had opened her eyes. Until she had seen Utred and Frayja's faces, back behind the house, this had all been a game, she had thought they would easily protect her, but the show of spells she had seen already had scared her, she realised how vulnerable she might be. Sticking close between her two friends, they made their way through the trees.

They had hardly made it a fifty paces into the trees when a voice to their side spoke from behind a tree. "For Merlin's sake Utred, its you, we thought it might be some of Styr's lot. About time, you got here, where have you been?"

"Thanks Leoforwic." Utred chuckled. "We all here then?"

"Aye, but we should be up there, if it weren't for some Lord and his Lady holding us up." Leoforwic said suggestively.

"Not just us two though." Utred grinned.

The other Creaftas looked at him puzzled.

"Queen Brida hitched a lift with Utred, we have put a shield rune on her and disillusioned her to, but we need to ensure her safety." Frayja told them.

The Creaftas and their ladies nodded grimly, accepting the additional task, there was after all little else they could do about it. They made there way up to the higher ground closer to the Castles' wards, but near enough the road to effectively cut off any of Styr's men that tried to escape towards the village. They knew that if they fired spells at the ward at just the right angle the curse would be reflected off it, rebounding into the Northumbrians, who were still firing ineffectually at Toki. With luck, they would think the spells fired by the Creaftas were fired by their own people continuing to bounce back at them, so it would not reveal that their were wizards in the trees behind them.

Styr was getting frustrated, they had only been challenged by one boy since they arrived, by now the castle should be his, but they were stuck here. It was not just this boy, who was a nuisance, but he was being prevented from advancing in his ambitions by wards beyond his comprehension and far stronger than he had ever encountered. He shouted and bawled orders at the wizards amongst his men to keep them firing spells at the invisible barrier, hoping the sheer weight of magic would breech the barrier and allow him to storm the building, but they had to duck each time to avoid being hit by their own curses rebounding on them. Then they had the problem that the boy could fire spells through the wards at them, luckily he only seemed to know curses that were easy to deal with, but it was still a distraction to have to keep reviving those he managed to hit.

The Creaftas reached the position they were aiming for and watched, assessing the lie of the land. As well as the two groups of Wizards they saw that the centaurs led other magical creatures, staff and students to back up Toki at last. The Northumbrians were surrounded, but didn't realise it, they continued to concentrate on trying to overwhelm the wards, too busy to notice. Their only possible escape route was down the road, and that had only a slim chance of success, with the Creaftas watching the narrow corridor out, anyone who walked along it would be disarmed, stunned and bound, before being sent to the field to join the others. Utred could see Styr growing more and more frustrated, the spells he shot became stronger and stronger, until he fired a bright green one that passed through the shield, he realised it could only be the killing curse. Utred tensed, Toki saw it coming and ducked, it hit the castle wall leaving a black scar in the stone work.

The founders reacted instantly, now they had reached a range from which they could be effective, with little risk of hitting their comrades approaching from the other side. Spells sailed in from both phalanx of wizards, the Creaftas sent more from behind, the students from in front. Styr watched, wide eyed in shock, helpless as hundreds of spells fell in amongst his men from several directions at once, he realised he was trapped and vulnerable, but he wasn't finished yet.

"Shields!" He yelled, a little too late.

Utred's eyes had never left the Usurper, he cast a disarming charm at the man. The Creafta was closer than the others to the former King, so his spell hit its target before the others did, and Styr's wand flew through the air. Utred caught it just as the other spells hit and most of the Northumbrians fell to the ground. Styr stared at the wizard who had disarmed him, his eyes widened as he recognised who it was, his look turned to fury as Utred snapped his wand, giving the message the young man thought Styr to be unworthy to cast a spell. Styr could only watch as the young whelp insulted him, he was helpless to prevent it.

Seeing their comrades collapse after being struck by, what to them, looked like coloured lights, the rest of the Muggles left in the Northumbrian force could not understand what had happened. Fearing what they could not explain, most turned and fled, all but a few were captured before they had travelled too far, the last few continued towards the village, believing they had escaped.

Out of sight of the main fight, Helena Ravenclaw and her boyfriend, the Baron, formed the last line of defence at the boundary of the village, they were blocking the road in front of the fleeing men. Seeing what appeared to be a simple force of a man and a woman blocking their way down the road, the few Northumbrians who had made it past the Creaftas decided to fight, attempting to regain some glory rather than the ignominy of surrender their flight would indicate. They charged the couple, who cast spells back stunning some of those heading towards them, but six got through. Reaching close quarters, swords and axes were drawn on both sides and with a clash of steel the fight commenced, the Baron, an accomplished swords man, fought hard, killing one instantly, before engaging a second. Helena continued to cast spells on the Northumbrians, incapacitating two, then sending them to the field where their country men were held. Now the Baron was fighting three, Northumbrians at the same time isolating him whilst Helena had placed the Port keys as quickly as she could, so they could not recover and threaten them again. The Baron who, unknown to Helena, had been injured, killed the man who had managed to stab him, but the last two Northumbrians, desperate to try to regain some pride, attacked simultaneously and overwhelming him, felled him quickly, but continued frantically stabbing him repeatedly, only stopping when Helena stunned and bound them. She knelt next to the Baron and cradled the head of her love, using her wand to try to heal his wounds, his own lay at his side, but there were too many for her to heal on her own. He died in her arms, multiple wounds still bleeding, his spirit rising from his body, to stand next to her, the blood from his wounds shining silver on his translucent torso, the witch and the ghost mourning for what they had lost. After several minutes, Hilde found them, she quickly sent the Northumbrian captives to join the others, then, nodding to the ghost, knelt next to the daughter of the founder to comfort her.

Styr was now left with only a hand full of men at his side, none of whom were keen to continue the fight, but the man who had started the day in command of many thousands appeared not to have noticed he was now simply one of less than a dozen. He stood contemptuously, sword in hand glaring at the man he had failed to kill as a child and who had now snapped his wand. He opened his mouth and defiantly bellowed. "How dare you boy, you are Northumbrian, I am your King and you dare to defy me, dare to snap my wand, you filthy scum. You shall not see another day for your presumption boy, you shall soon join your father. I can still hear their screams, his and your mothers, as they burned alive in the flaming hall of Tang, I don't know which it was, but one screamed like a wounded pig as they died. I have their Gold, your Gold, we found their treasure in the scorched ground, it is mine, you have nothing." Styr lied, not knowing that Utred had his families Gold, his entire attention was on Utred, goading the young Lord, who just stood smiling at the man, who began to stomp towards him. "Like your father, you are nothing, you will die as the worthless son of a traitor, your name forgotten, while mine is sung in songs for ever."

"You will be silent Styr!" A voice roared, the sound rolling over the grounds. "You useless piece of what falls from a goats backside, you will do nothing more, if you know what is good for you and your worthless piece of slug spit you have for a son."

The man who had presumed to be King suddenly stopped and turned quickly, a look of shock and fear on his face, he was trembling at the power of the sound of the voice which he knew so well and feared so much as a young man. When it was angry, it frightened him as much as had his wife's and he had never heard either as furious as this, it had shocked him into immobility. He had also never faced either this man or his wife's anger without his wand to use if necessary, which he felt it was. His few remaining men noticed, they began to mutter amongst themselves, there was no glory or promised riches to be gained here, not when their Lord and King shook at a mere raised voice.

Salazar's magnified voice continued. "You sent a killing curse at a student who I teach, though he is not of my house, your oath to me specifically forbids you from attacking any other I teach." The founder bore down on his one time student, both wand and sword drawn.

Styr saw what he thought was an opportunity to regain the upper hand for the first time since that boy had stood defiantly alone in front of the castle. He instantly decided attack was the best defence, and pulled himself up. "That same oath forbids you from killing me too, my dear mentor." He sneered.

Salazar grinned evilly. "Who said anything about me killing you? No you worthless excuse for a wizard, that's to good for a blood traitor like you, I want to make you suffer for what you have done to your own people."

"Me a blood traitor?" Styr bellowed believing that as his mentor had backed away from killing him, he had gained the upper hand. "Look in a mirror Salazar, you teach anyone regardless of purity, where is your pride, where is your ambition. You are the one that is the traitor, I am simply a product of your teaching, I acted to protect our kind."

Salazar's anger rose. "You murdering scum, you killed our kind instead of protecting them from those who would destroy us. You distorted my teachings, for nothing more than your own ends. You have proved that my teachings and you ability are wasted on you, Lord Utred was correct to snap your wand, you are truly unworthy to wield it. Did you learn nothing, but spells from me, what a waste of my time and your talent." He bore down on his former student, striding ahead of the others he had led through the grounds.

The others were all rushing to catch up with Salazar, a hissing noise announced the arrival of Septimus, who reared up hissing fiercely at Styr, which stopped Salazar in his tracks as his familiar spoke calming words to him.

"Get him!" Styr ordered, but his men backed up, straight into the path of Godric's team.

They turned quickly, drawing swords as they did, seeing what they did Utred swiftly drew his own, as the men ran towards him to attack, the blood fever took over, he charged into the fray, sword swinging, the men in his way falling rapidly. The Creaftas drew their swords, as did Godric's men, they followed Utred into the fight, but were hardly needed, the Blood lust had taken Utred, his sword singing brightly as it seemingly effortlessly sliced into flesh, sinew and bone. Rain began to fall again, mixing with the spray of Northumbrian blood, which was gently washed into the soil beneath their feet. Within a very few minutes, Styr's men were gone, their lifeless bodies laid in the mud, their own blood and spilled innards he stood alone, vulnerable.

"Utred Stop!" Frayja shouted at her husband who was still looking to attack, but with none left attacking him, he had no targets left.

He did instantly, panting, as his friends could finally get near him without risk of death. Frayja ran over and wrapped her arms round him, she felt the disillusioned Brida do the same, both whispering calming words in his ears.

"Good to see he listens to her." Godric whispered under his breath, grinning, thinking there was only one woman calming his student. "Key to a successful marriage for any man that." Both Helga and Rowena hit him, hard, on each arm.

Then there was silence in the aftermath of the short fight, all eyes fell on Styr, who appeared to visibly deflate as he realised he was on his own. The ring of metal hitting a small boulder in the ground, followed by a dull thud as the hilt of his sword hit the ground, indicating Styr's surrender. Realising his campaign was at an end, he surrendered to the justice of his enemy. Godric's phoenix burst into song as the rain began to fall heavily, washing the dried blood of battle from those who had been at the battle and the fresh blood from Utred as he stood before them, sword in hand, his lady next to him, looking every inch the warlord his father had been at his age.

Godric, as the local Lord accepted Styr's surrender in the absence of the King, he remained unaware that the Queen Brida was disillusioned next to Utred and watching the whole thing. Although she should have accepted the surrender, she remained silent, this was Godric's land, not hers so she decided not to interfere. With the fighting now over, the staff who had remained at the castle brought Thorfin over to where they stood, escorted by some of the Centaurs. There would be two trials that day, father and son, together, the son stared at the dead men and blood soaked Scots in disbelief, seeing his father captive, his eyes widened in disbelief. "Father?" He questioned.

Styr looked up and saw his son. "It's over." He said simply.

"It can't be, you are King of Northumbria, our men shall come and rescue us, they have to be some to do that." Thorfin pleaded angrily.

"You fool, there is no one, if there were, do you think I would be here like this with you dragged here? Face it boy, it's done." Styr told him.

"But Hrothweard?"

"Has betrayed us." His father spat.

Thorfin was about to respond defiantly, but was stopped when the still clearly scared clergy were brought from the tree they had been secured to.

Godric conjured chairs for the clergy, who sat nervously on them when invited, not wanting to upset these people who could produce such things from thin air with the wave of a stick, they had seen and experienced too many things they could not explain this day. Godric let them settle, then he spoke to them. "Priests you need not fear us, your lives will be spared this day, you have been chosen to tell the tale. We have no grudge against you, although your church has against us. You will soon be able to report the happenings of today to your Archbishop and how we treated his puppet King, who is in fact one of us. I am Lord of this Land, Utred here is the rightful Lord of Tang and Thwing near Jorvik. According to the privilege granted to us by virtue of being Lords resident here and having won conquest over him, we shall be holding Judgement over Styr for his crimes against ours and his own people as well as those of this and what was his country. We require you to witness that all ha been done according to custom and law to him, do you agree to testify honestly and truthfully about all you see and have seen today to any who ask you about it."

The priests realised they were safe, for now at least, they whispered to each other, then the oldest, who also was quite a fat man spoke up. "My colleagues believe that our Gods law dictates that Judgement cannot be given by man on those he has placed of higher rank in society. Styr is King of Northumbria, or if what was said at the field was true, has been King, placed there by our God. You are not Royal, neither is this supposed Lord of Tang, by our laws therefore, you may not place him on trial until it can be adjudicated by someone of that rank or who is at the least a prince of the church which none of us is. As a Royal Thorfin would be eligible to hold judgement of course, as would the King of this land, if there is one."

"Typical Christian priest tricks, these servants of the nailed God are nothing, but money grabbing untrustworthy worm puke. They want to place the son in judgement of his father, Styr stole the throne, he is nothing more than a Prince at most, unlike me." A female voice, apparently from thin air laughed ironically, the Priests looked round for the speaker before the voice called indignantly. "Oh bugger I forgot about that, Utred, sort this out will you."

The young Lord grinned. "Oh yes, sorry Queen Brida." The warrior said, then removed the Disillusionment charm from her, making her visible to all.

"Majesty!" Godric exclaimed surprised.

"Yes Godric it's me, the best looking one between me and the bearded wonder." She grinned cheekily, then turned to the priests. "I am Brida, Queen of the Picts, a true Royal, as you call it, unlike the Usurper Styr. That means that by your Gods rules I am of equal rank to him, or, in fact, higher as he is only self appointed, and so will stand in Judgement over him with my most beloved Lords Utred and Godric by my side. You will simply witness it, Lord Godric, arrange things please, Lady Frayja will join us also, at least then I am not out numbered by these two hunky men." She ran her hand over Utred's Chest.

The Priests raised no objections, to shocked at seeing her appear out of thin air, a miracle to their eyes, even though she had spoilt it slightly by swearing, issuing insults and then describing two men as she had. Even so it was clear they were over awed by the event, at least for now. As a result, smiling, Godric bowed. "Very well my Queen." Then conjured the four chairs needed upon a dais, which they immediately went to sit on.

"Bring Thorfin before me also, we shall deal with the son before the father I believe." Brida grinned, enjoying herself.

One of the Priests stood. "What is he charged with, he wasn't even at the battle?" He growled, the rotund priest looked at him in askance, shaking his head in disbelief.

"As we told you before the battle, the spawn of my student is charged with the murder of one of my students." Salazar growled back. "After he was first captured and brought here we allowed him some liberty in the grounds, helping those who would have been his fellows had he come here as a student. They would have been his compatriots had his father sent him here as he had originally planned, and although he was not allowed his wand or any other weapons, we gave him the opportunity to prove himself here, a chance he betrayed. He attempted to escape, attacked a younger boy, stole his wand and killed him in cold blood, before he was recaptured. There are numerous witnesses to the event, he was not allowed such freedom again afterwards, he was confined to a cell, guarded day and night."

A girl stepped forward, she was about the same age as Thorfin. Her long hair was tied back with a leather thong, she wore a leather tunic and wool trousers, a Sword and Seax hung from her belt. "I am the sister of his victim, my family request right of vengeance."

"Are you prepared to fulfil the right or should you summon your father my dear?" Brida asked sympathetically.

"I have trained with Lord Utred, Ulf and Erik. My family are happy that I conduct the right and deal with that cowardly snail piss, in their absence, my Queen." The Girl replied, bowing.

Brida looked to Utred, who nodded confirming he was happy the Girl was capable enough with sword and wand to dual with more than a chance of winning, then she looked to Godric, who confirmed that opinion with a nod.

"Very well, our laws allow a duel instead of a trial in these circumstances. Thorfin, as the accused it is your choice, you are capable of either a Wizard or Muggle Duel." Brida proclaimed.

Thorfin looked at the girl who would be his opponent and a smirk spread across his face, she didn't look capable of lifting a sword, never mind fighting him with one. "Muggle duel." He replied confidently, knowing all he had to do was draw blood to win, then as compensation for the treatment these fools had meted out to him, he would take this girl to use for himself.

"Very well, as you are accused of taking a life, as is our custom, you will duel to the death." Brida replied. "Prepare the withies, before us, any who interfere before the duel is over, in any way, shall be put to death by blood eagle."

The girl grinned in predatory manner, whilst Thorfin's face fell in shock, he had not expected this so called Queen to declare that, he knew that given the chance his father would ensure his victory, but doubted he would dare with the promise of such a death. Styr's face had whitened at the announcement as well, he had himself ordered the Blood Eagle be performed, on a Northman when he had usurped his brother. The man had been particularly persistent in advising against his wishes and taken great joy in any misfortune Styr had suffered. It was an act of revenge that he had not witnessed performed, leaving it to one of his men to carry out. Even so he knew it was the most painful and humiliating form of death, but had heard of its agonies and knew that once the torso had been opened, the victim could last days in wet weather, when the rain preserved the moisture of the exposed lungs and innards. The only hope of a quicker demise, after suspension in the air for all to see was sun or consumption by raven or beast, either way, slow or fast, he knew he would not be able to enter Valhalla if he suffered such a torture. It was not a death he would invite, even to save his son. Thorfin was an adult, he had recklessly chosen to duel, Styr had no doubt of his sons guilt, he was pleased he had tried to escape, but he still did not know how his son had allowed himself to be captured, or when. He had obviously lost the men under his command, now he had created a situation where he was beyond his aid, he was on his own. Thorfin's only hope was to defeat this Girl, looking at her, she did not look much of a threat, he thought she wouldn't be a problem, until he saw her face as she prepared, her hard grey eyes bore into Thorfin, they showed no weakness. Styr knew that Thorfin had fought few Muggle duals preferring to let others fight them others fight them for him, he was not as skilled as he should be, preferring to rely on brute force, which had worked for Thorfin in the past. Styr's confidence for his son evaporated, he feared for the life of his son.

A large square area was marked by long, flexible, willow branches, freshly cut from the nearby forest. The girl stepped in on one side, moving to a spot three sword lengths from the boundary, she was holding her sword in one hand easily, Utred knew this girl was excellent with a sword, she had more than a fair chance. Thorfin, was given a sword taken from one of his fathers men, he stepped into the square opposite her, still confident she would be easy pickings. He held his sword in both hands, ready to over power her at his first blow, while she held hers loosely, relaxed and ready. The Creaftas, protected in chain mail, assembled round the square, they would ensure if either of the duellists stepped out of the square, they would be pushed back in without delay, or remove anyone not involved in the combat who stepped into the square. Once all was ready, Brida nodded to Godric. "Begin!" He called.

Thorfin moved instantly, he stepped forward and charged, sword held above his head, directly at her, a blood curdling yell intended to scare her came from his mouth. She waited for him to close on her, then calmly side stepped him and with an almost effortless slash of her sword, she drew first blood, the edge of her sword cut deeply into his arm as he passed. The Girl moved easily to the centre of the square and took up position to wait for him again.

His yell turning to a Howl of pain and frustration, Thorfin turned quickly, his leather shoes digging into the soft turf and charged her again, again she side stepped, this time catching his leg with her blade. This time she did not give him time turn, before she had turned and attacked him again, this time slapping his backside with the flat of her blade. Frustrated and with growing anger at his humiliation at the sword of this girl, He skidded and turned, his sword swinging in a large arc to try to catch her where he thought she would be, she was not where he expected, she had stepped back, standing safely at the edge of the square, smirking at him, to step out of the square purposefully, rather than be forced out or fall out due to momentum, would be to forfeit the duel and instant death. Thorfin saw red, she was goading him with her position and demeanor, he charged again and again she dodged and inflicted injury. He did not change tactic, and neither did she, each time she dodged and he received a new flesh wound, in a different place, he was weakening from loss of blood and his frustration grew. Finally she swung hard as he passed again and almost severed his sword hand as he passed, exhausted by his exertions, disarmed and badly injured, he fell to his knees, his dying hand released the weapon, which fell to the ground before him. She finished him quickly, slicing his throat with the foible of her sword, then pushed him onto his back, away from his weapon. He died before he could even roll over, to crawl back and reach the sword with his other hand.

Once Thorfin had released his last breath, along with the contents of his bladder and bowel, the girl fell to her knees, her eyes filled with tears, her blood stained hair fell over her face for a moment before she threw her head back and screamed to the sky. "It is done Sigmund, it is done." She cried, the duel over, her grief at the loss of her brother, bottled up to fuel her in the duel, released at last.

The silence, broken only by her sobs, held for a moment until a roar of grief and loss broke it. "You murdered my son you bitch."

Styr believed he had an opportunity to disrupt what was going on, he knew his trial was next, he had decided he would not make it easy for them. He had just seen his son completely humiliated, he was not about to allow that to happen to him, either through Duel or trial, he was going to force them to kill him on his terms or let him go. If he died, then at least Salazar would have to avenge him, kill whoever murdered him.

Violently he freed himself from the Scots guards around him, who were flung back to flail on the floor. Before anyone could react he grabbed a sword from one of the men who had been watching the duel and charged like a bull through the Creaftas, towards the grieving girl who seemed oblivious to his blistering approach.

"I'll kill you, Scum." He bellowed as he raised the sword above his head ready to deliver the fatal blow, as she finally looked round her eyes widening in horror.

A figure entered her field of vision from the opposite side, and stood between her and the charging ex King, Styr's eyes widened as his own momentum carried him onto the figures sword, which was held firmly and did not give when he impacted onto the sharp tip. The sword passed straight into his lower abdomen, through him, to emerge through his back. He dropped his own blade behind him where it speared the ground, he gurgled as he fell to his knees, the blade sliced up his gut, he knew he was going to die and looked up to his killers face, knowing he. "You!" He gasped, spitting blood and pinkish froth from his mouth, then grinned. "At least I will have caused your death at the hands of Salazar."

"Yes me, scum, but you are wrong about Sal having to kill me, you and your son's actions ensured that." Styr's killer grasped his sword with both hands as the usurpers face fell in surprise.

The man with the sword grinned and yanked it up. "For my father." Styr flinched as the sword was forced up towards his rib cage. "Killing him gave me the right in law and Magic for revenge."

The warrior yanked it up again, the blade broke through a few ribs. "For my family and friends." Styr's flinch of pain was followed by another yank on the sword, the metal cut into a lung and smashed through some of his ribs, stopping just below the Usurpers heart.

"For those you betrayed, may you rot in hell. I Utred, Lord of Tang curse your memory, die like the scum you are, your name forgotten like your murdering son's who cost you the revenge your mentor would otherwise have been forced to take." Ignoring Styr's gasping pleas for a sword to be placed in his hand, Utred twisted the blade which finally entered Styr's heart, slicing it in half.

The Usurper died, held up by Utred's sword, kneeling as if in supplication, before his killer. Utred withdrew the blade, pushed Styr's body over side ways, then wiped his sword clean on the cloth of Styr's clothes, before replacing it in his belt. Frayja and Brida rushed to his side and stood, one either side, their arms snaking round him. He reached into the neck of his own tunic and pulled out a leather thong with a gold ring on that he had worn there since the day he had come with Godric. His fathers ring, the ring of the Lord of Tang, it had hung on the thong since that day when he had been forced from his home, the day he had arrived here all those years ago. That day he had lost his old life and gained a new one, those events had led to this, he pulled the thong over his head and undid the knot. Taking the ring, he placed it on his finger, where with a flash of his magic, it resized to fit him, Magic itself accepting that his oath of vengeance was fulfilled. The magical house of the Huntrodds was born, it's founder looked up to Valhalla, the rain still falling, washing the sprayed blood of his enemy from his face and shouted. "Father, it is done."

A flash of lightening streaking across the sky, followed by a loud thunder clap was his only response. In the distance a thick column of black smoke rose over the hills, to meet the dark clouds above, the pyres were burning strongly in the valley, where the Battle at the start of this day had raged. The day of death had claimed its last victim, the killing was over at last, at least as far as Utred was concerned. Suddenly he was tired, the battle fury gone, the adrenaline that had fuelled him subsided, all he wanted now was a warm bed with Frayja at his side, but he knew that while the fighting might be finished, the day wasn't. Now they must deal with the aftermath, soon Constantine would be back and knowing him, he would want to celebrate, but there were tasks that must be done first.

The older of the Monks stepped forward, he slowly made his way to the dais where Brida, Frayja and Godric stood, then knelt before the trio, but facing Brida. "Majesty, my King has avoided the administration of proper justice by his actions, attempting to circumvent the disposal of the trial. Our law demands that I offer myself to you to live in exile from my home, never to return, to repay for his dishonourable actions here today."

His companions rose as if to object, but he waved them down, they sat again, reluctantly as Brida looked to Godric.

Godric nodded once more and Brida looked at the abdominous man. "Your offer is accepted, you will live here and serve this School. Your fellows will be returned safely to Jorvik if they wish, but you shall remain in the castle, never to leave." Brida announced.

"I accept and thank you, your Majesty, my Lord." The rotund man rose and made to turn away, but was stopped when he noticed he was glowing, it faded and he was approached by Helga.

"Your name Priest?" She asked.

The priest shrugged. "I am a Friar, not just a priest my Lady. As to my name, Friar will do."

"Very well!" She replied kindly. "You have been bound to this Castle by Magic from this day, never to leave. You shall help with the care of the students, the plants and the healing, you shall reside in my house where you shall learn the truth of our ways. Now go say your goodbyes, your friends will need to know your wishes, I shall collect you in a moment."

He nodded and went over to speak to his companions whilst Helga went to check on the girl who had fought Thorfin, who was still knelt on the ground. Once helped back onto her feet the girl was taken into her friends arms who comforted her as her grief for her brother resumed and overwhelmed her. Helga left her with them as they took her into the castle, then she went and gathered the Friar from his reassured friends. Instructing him to go into the castle, he nodded and made his way up the steps to his new life.

Salazar and Godric slowly made their way to Utred. "You know what this means Utred." Godric said sadly.

Utred nodded. "I know, lets get it done."

"I have made the preparations, Rowena says it will be a bushy haired girl who will have the means to free you all, she's foreseen it all. She will marry a Wesele, befriend a Tigelwotta who will be the chosen one, I have left the spell for her to discover, we have done everything to ensure once the thousand years are done, you will be freed." Godric told him.

"If only you hadn't..." Salazar began, but shrugged. "Oh bugger it, I knew you had to, your honour quite rightly demanded it."

"I know Sal, but you now must fulfil your honour, besides there was no way I would let him attack her either, not while she was grieving." Utred smiled at him.

He looked over at Frayja, who smiled at him. "Come on then, lets get this over and done with." She said.

The four founders led Utred towards the castle, Rowena comforting her daughter, the ghost of the Baron floating next to them.

"What's going on?" Brida asked as she reached out to Frayja.

"I'll tell you soon, Brida, you will need to know, then Utred will need us both." Frayja replied taking the young Queens hand.

"You mean...?"

"Yes Brida, I'll share him with you, as equals." She grinned leading the Queen into the castle, just as the sounds of the horns announcing Constantine's army in the distance, marching towards them reached their ears and the rain began to clear.


Late 20th Century:

They had made their way back down the steps from the church yard, diverting to buy Kreacher some of his favourite Kippers from Fortunes, where they were preparing the smokery for the next batch before heading through the town. Stopping again at some of the shops they had looked in earlier, they bought a few gifts for people, especially Victoire, Teddy, Winky and the twins, before heading back over the bridge and up the other side of the harbour. They decided to have an ice cream, so cones were bought, and they ate them as they walked out on the wall of the harbour. Reaching the lighthouse at the half way point they crossed a bridge onto the wooden walkway, past fishermen sat watching rods, out as far as they could before looking back on the town. To the right they could see the cottage they would return to soon, part way along the buildings on the top of the cliff. Fishing and pleasure vessels passed between the two piers that stretched out like protective arms, in and out of the Harbour. The two mismatched light houses, at what would be the elbows of the arms, framing the river and harbours they protected. The Abbey and church, they had just left, distinctive guardians of the town. Smoke rose from the street below the church, indicating that the fresh batch of Herring they had seen half an hour before, were now being smoked into Kippers at Fortunes. They stood, each couple holding each other, looking back at the darkening town as lights began to flicker on, for a few minutes before heading back to climb up the hill to the whale bone arch. They stopped again there, taking in the view, St Mary's was now lit, looking as it usually did, no sign that anything extraordinary had happened there at all. The six knew, this place would always be special and that this would not be the last time they came here. Turning to walk along the cliff top, they were soon back at the cottage, Harry and Ginny led the others through the Floo, back to Grimmauld place where Andromeda and Teddy were waiting.

"All done?" She asked, once they had all stepped from the fire.

"That part yes, they can all rest now." Harry sighed. "I have a task at Hogwarts tomorrow morning as a result though."

He sat and Teddy climbed on his knee.

Andromeda raised an eyebrow in surprise."Really?" She asked.

Hermione pulled the shield out of her beaded bag, Andromeda's eyes grew wide. "So that's what that is, hang on." She fumbled in her own bag for a moment, ignoring the looks of surprise on the others faces. "I was given this as a youngster by Sirius mother, she said it was very old, belonged to a Black who was a friend of the founders." In her hand was a leather thong with a silver version of the emblem on the shield next to a Thor's hammer, just as Utred had worn.

Hermione smiled. "She must have meant Skorri Bleac, he was a student of Gryffindor, part of Utred's group, the Creaftas. From what I have discovered they were pranksters, who helped build the castle. They created the ceiling as a way to tease Slytherin when he tried to punish them, as well as the moving stairs. They were responsible for giving the Castle consciousness, though that was by accident apparently"

"Merlin, Aunt Walburga always said that it was symbolic of the fight between Godric and Salazar. She was convinced that as a Black he would without doubt have been Slytherin's friend. So what is it really?" Andromeda asked.

Ginny grinned. "Godric's badge."

"I thought that was just a lion?"

"So did we all." Harry laughed indicating the shield. "It seems not originally, at least, this is his missing shield, I have to return it to Gryffindor tower and tomorrow seems as good a time as any."

Dumbledore's portrait spoke up. "I shall let Minerva know you are coming Harry, get her to close down the grounds while you do your task. A precautionary measure I am sure, but who knows what effect the restoration the only missing symbol of the founders might have, better to be safe than sorry in this instance I should think."

"Thanks Albus, oh yes did you know the fat lady was Godric's mother by the way." Harry called after the departing figure.

His old mentor stopped in his tracks, slowly turned towards them, looking amazed, shook his head slowly, turned back to face his frame and, still looking stunned, walked out of his picture.

Sirius portrait laughed. "I don't think he is used to finding out things he did not know about Hogwarts, well done Harry. Andy, if you tell mothers portrait what that really is, take me with you to the archive, her face will be a sight I don't want to miss."

Andromeda laughed. "I know what you mean Sirius, it is tempting, but better not, I hear she has been good as gold for them, I don't think disturbing that is a good idea, entertaining, but ill advised."

Teddy was quickly falling asleep on Harry's lap, so Harry gently carried him up to the nursery and put him in the cot, staying with his godson until he was sure the child was sound asleep. Calling Winky he asked the elf to monitor the youngster, then returned down stairs where he found the others unpacking Hermione's bag and showing Andromeda the items Utred had given them, as well as the presents, giving her the one for Teddy. Kreacher popped in with a tray of drinks, his eyes lit up when he saw the Kippers, Winky arrived with a cake and received her gift wide eyed.

As the elves distributed the refreshments, Harry resumed his seat and Hermione lifted the axe he had received from the bag and passed it to him.

"If I were you I would put that on your new office wall Harry." Andromeda grinned. "It will scare the hell out of those trainees, probably your staff as well."

"Are you sure you aren't a secret Marauder Andromeda?" Harry asked grinning.

Further comment was negated when Flame flashed in, singing, a rolled parchment in her claws which she dropped in Andromeda's lap before landing next to Harry.

"Warn her the letter is from beyond the veil, Harry, it is not a joke. It seems Godric thinks the world of Nymphadora and summoned me there to collect this when the gateway was opened to allow the Huntrodds in." The Phoenix told him.

Seeing Andromeda about to open the scroll Harry quickly spoke up. "Hold on Andromeda, Flame tells me it's from Tonks." He said.

Andromeda looked at him in disbelief, then back at the parchment as if it were something about to explode, then back towards him. "But, how? It's not possible Harry?"

Flame sang again, the effect calming Andromeda a little.

"It is only due to the ritual for the Huntrodds family causing the gateway to be opened between the two existences, that enabled me to be summoned by those there with whom I was once bonded in this realm. With my return here, the way is closed again so this is a one way message, none can be taken back there by that route." Harry repeated what Flame had said in the song and Andromeda picked up the parchment with trembling hands.

She unrolled it and had barely read the first line before tears erupted and her hands shook. Harry and Ginny were instantly at her side, their arms round her comfortingly.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "It is definitely Nymphadora's hand writing, I didn't get past the greeting. I'm so sorry, I just can't, would you read it for me please Harry?"

"Of course I will, if you are sure you want me to?" He replied.

Andromeda nodded. "Apart from Teddy, oh and the Malfoy's I suppose, you and Ginny are all the family I have left Harry, at least I think of you as if you two were my son and daughter. There are none in this room I mind hearing it in the least, go ahead and read it, please Harry." She pleaded gratefully.

Nodding numbly, he gently took the parchment from her hand and opened it.

"Wotcher mum, Teddy and the rest of you." Harry read. "I know this is a shock, I am told that this isn't strictly allowed, but Godric offered so I took the opportunity. He's not one for really worrying about bending the rules if the opportunity arises, mind you neither are any of the founders when it comes to it. It's really weird being here, yet being able to see you guys and how you are doing when we want to. Don't worry we can't sit here watching you all the time, it's more like dreaming really, but we aren't sat here watching absolutely everything you guys do. There is so much I want to tell you, but can't, still I needed to write this for you. I'm guessing that mum might ask you to read this for her Harry, so this bit is for you and Ginny, first the old dog loves what you have done to the place, as do we all, surprisingly that includes Aunt Walburga, who actually said she wishes she had thought of brightening up the house. James and Lily send their love, they are so proud of everything you have done and pleased you helped Petunia finally get over her hang ups enough to get out of that marriage. They say they have portraits in their main house, waiting for you to visit."

Harry paused, gathering himself before continuing.

"Mum, I hope you have calmed a little by now, I have some things to tell you after all. Remus and I are so pleased with how you are doing with Teddy, your choice of Godmother is spot on by the way, it looks like he is doing well with all of you. We and Dad are pleased you are not alone, and so happy that you both are part of Harry and Ginny's family. We miss you of course, just as you do us, but please live life mum, don't let memories of us three hold you back we want you to be happy. The reason I wanted to send this though, mum, is to tell you to empty your hand bag. Before I left to follow Remus that day I put something for Teddy in there, I had hoped you would see it if anything happened to us, but hey, I should have known you would never get to the bottom of it without prompting. Mum I know you will look after Teddy and I am sorry we are not there for you both, but we couldn't sit idly by, we had to help get shot of old mouldy shorts. I have to go in a minute, old Godric's phoenix is here for this and the old fella is getting excited about greeting his old student from back then. Honestly you wouldn't believe he was a founder, he gets so excited about things, there is no wonder Sirius, James and Remus get on with him and Salazar so well. I guess this student of his they have been waiting for will be just as much of a prankster from the stories he tells, apparently the stairs at Hogwarts move and have traps in them because of this guy and his friends. Any way we love you all and will see you when you get here, whenever that will be. Teddy you be good for grandma, Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny, know that Uncle George will teach you how to prank everyone at school and has some of the best ways of keeping out of trouble too. We love you all. Tonks, Remus and Ted, oh and Godric too, he says."

There was silence as Harry finished the letter, they all needed to digest its contents. It was, therefore, a bit of a shock when Andromeda, after a few minutes, suddenly grabbed her hand bag and tipped it out on the coffee table. The amount of things that came out of it, to pile on the table, or roll off it in some cases, was incredible.

"Blimey, how much stuff? No wonder you couldn't find it, what ever it is. I didn't know you could get magical hand bags." Dudley exclaimed.

"You can, but Ted got me this a few years ago, from a Muggle shop called Wool Words or something, it's got no magical properties at all." Andromeda said distractedly.

Dudley's eyes widened at her statement. "Remind me never to challenge you to an arm wrestling contest, in that case." He chuckled.

Andromeda was too busy sifting through the items from the bag to notice, examining each one before placing it back in the bag, until she found something she knew she had not put in it. "Here it is. Oh my, Nymphadora, how wonderful." She joyfully exclaimed holding up what looked like a galleon, but it was embossed with a picture of Remus and Tonks on one side. Andromeda turned it over, they could see the other side was neatly engraved with Teddy's name and date of birth. "It's a memory token." She added, seeing the curious expression the others displayed.

"Sorry, but a what?" Dudley asked, puzzled.

Andromeda chuckled. "Don't apologise Dudley, it's not a commonly used artefact these days, I would be surprised if even Maria, Ginny or Ron have seen one before."

The three indicated they had not, so Andromeda continued her explanation.

" At one time these were frequently given by parents to children or by couples to each other if they were parting for some reason, one of them working away for some time for example. Basically this coin has message for Teddy, from Dora and Remus magically embedded in it, which he will be able to view whenever he likes as he grows up, though no one else will be able to see it unless he allows it. I should have known they would not leave him with no memory of them, they knew the danger of going to Hogwarts, the pain you felt because you had nothing of James and Lily's Harry. This is so Teddy does not have to have that pain, it is so like those two to have left something like this for him." She turned to the Phoenix. "Thank you Flame, Dora was right, Teddy could have been married with children of his own at Hogwarts before I emptied that bag out. I really am grateful to you." She conjured a small box, placed the coin in it then closed it firmly. "Harry, would you keep this safe for him please."

Harry nodded. "Of course, it shall go in the bureau, once again it can keep something safe, but you should be the one to give it to him when the time comes."

"Oh I will Harry, but just in case anything happens, we both know it is safe and there for him, he shall have it the first time he asks about them as far as I am concerned." She replied.


It was soon after a delicious breakfast, served by Kreacher and Winky the following morning, that Maria led Dudley through the busy streets of Muggle London to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom greeted the couple cheerily, although they refused his offer of breakfast, instead they hurried through the bar into the yard and into Diagon Alley. It was the first time they had visited the street as a couple on their own and they were going to enjoy every moment, besides Maria was going to introduce Dudley to someone very important to her. Although they had been to the Alley before, that had been with others, it somehow felt special this time, like the first time they had seen it. They walked happily arm in arm down the street taking in the sights and window shopping, she admiring the clothes on display in Glad Rags and Madam Malkin's, he preferring the Magical Menagerie and Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, but both enjoying looking round the Apothecary and Flourish and Blotts. Naturally they visited Fortescue's ice cream parlour and Dudley took the chance to admire the brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies, they ambled down the busy street, taking their time on their way to the bank. They called in at Weasley's of course and chatted a while with George, then called in at Swiftshot's to have their portrait taken ready to collect after they had visited their vaults.

Dudley loved the cart journey to his vault, it was his first experience of what he described as the ultimate coaster ride, then had to explain what a coaster ride was. He promised to take Maria on a trip to one or more Muggle theme parks to experience the roller coasters and rides, although he felt they were not a patch on this ride. When they reached his vault, he withdrew plenty of money for their needs, Maria doing the same at hers, then he enjoyed the ride back to the surface. Leaving the Bank they collected the pictures and had a large copy sent to their new cottage in Hogsmeade. They made their way back up the alley calling in at a few shops for supplies, until they reached Ollivander's wand shop. Maria pushed open the door, setting the bell tingling, announcing their arrival.

The shop was empty as they entered, Dudley suddenly feeling the need to whisper as if on hallowed ground, or in a library, the atmosphere in the room was reverential, he felt it was an ambience deliberately cultivated to add to the mystery and magic of wands. The door behind them closed and Dudley jumped in surprise, laughing Maria called out, loudly down a corridor between the shelves behind the counter. "Hi Uncle Olli, it's me Maria, I've brought someone for you to meet."

There was the sound of a stool scraping on the floor at the far end of the passageway, followed a moment later by an elderly figure appearing. "Maria my dear, it is good to see you and this must be young Dudley, it's good to meet you at last young man."

Maria hugged the old man. "Yes Uncle, this is Dudley. Dudley this is my Uncle Olli, well Great Uncle really and his first name isn't Olli, but it's been my name for him since I was little and it has stuck ever since."

Dudley chuckled, used to Maria rambling occasionally. "It's good to meet you Sir." He said.

Ollivander waved his hand dismissively. "Sir? No my boy not so formal if you please, if Maria will let you, you have my permission to call me Uncle Olli as she does, you are her young man after all."

"Of course you can Dud." Maria grinned. "It will surprise mum to say the least."

"Ah, some good will come of it then." Ollivander chuckled. " Now what can I do for you, or is this a social call?"

"Bit of both really, Uncle Olli." Maria replied. "Dudley needs a wand, but I always love coming here to see you and the wands, you know that."

"Yes dear I do." Ollivander smiled, then looked puzzled. "You need a wand Dudley? I thought Maria's father said you were a Muggle."

Dudley sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I am, or was, or something. It's a long story really I'm afraid."

Ollivander nodded. "In that case let's go into the back and get a drink, I'll just close up the shop. It isn't busy today anyway, too soon for the Hogwarts rush of course. I find it much nicer to be undisturbed with a drink and perhaps a bite to eat if I can find something for us all, when it comes to long stories, it is almost lunchtime anyway."

He turned the sign in the window and locked the door, then led them into his living room at the other end of the corridor, behind the multitude of shelves full of boxes containing wands.

Maria sat, gesturing for Dud to join her on the small sofa, her Uncle busied himself making a pot of tea and some sandwiches for them all, before taking a seat in an armchair. "Just ham and tomato I'm afraid, I have some cake for after, dig in." He said, smiling as the two did, before he helped himself. "Now, if Dudley really is a Muggle, tell me why does he need a wand?"

Maria took a sip of her tea before answering. "We all thought he was a Muggle, but yesterday we learnt he has a small, weak, magical core, stronger than a squib, but not enough to go to Hogwarts."

There was a noise from upstairs, Maria looked up puzzled, Ollivander smiled. "Don't worry that's just Xeno Lovegood, getting the next Quibbler together upstairs, Luna is getting back for a holiday soon, so he wants to get it done before she does. Anyway, come on, tell me how you found this out, it is rare that someone as you describe enters our world, they are most often simply regarded as squibs, although it is possible that a wand might chose them."

Between them it took Dudley and Maria twenty minutes to tell him about the events of the day before. When they finished he stood, nodded thoughtfully and went to make a fresh pot of tea. Returning with the pot, he refreshed their drinks, sat then looking at Maria, he asked. "Now my dear, when are you going to come and work for me full time? You know all my stock as well as I and you have a natural talent with making wands, not to mention a new theatre to rival my own when selling them that really is worth sharing."

She smiled. "Oh Uncle, maybe once we have children for you to spoil while you watch me, or maybe sooner, but for now I am fine at the ministry." Turning to Dudley she explained. "Uncle Olli taught me how to make wands as soon as I could safely handle the tools and elements needed under supervision, he wants me to take over the shop when he retires, which he already should have, especially after he was kidnapped during the war."

"Xeno and Luna helped me get over all that, as did you my dear, I'm good for a while yet, at least until you decide to join me. Besides, if he has some magic, then we must see if Dudley here can pick up the art as well, I sense he will. Your Mother told me about the cottage you have moved into in Hogsmeade, you could always open a branch there, it would be like us returning home in a way. Your ancestors were there, making wands, when the school was built you know, it would be good to have a shop there again." Ollivander mused.

Maria chuckled recognising that her Uncle was teasing her. "Which brings us back to the matter of Dudley's wand Uncle. According to the Lady Frayja Huntrodds the wand that is waiting for him was made in her time, by Toki."

"Indeed, I recall you saying that in your story my dear." He agreed. "Now have you had enough sandwiches to eat, I can always make more, or would you like some cake? I know I have some somewhere, one of your mothers fruit ones I believe, if we are lucky, or perhaps there will be some of her cherry cake, the one with pink icing that she says is always good for ones' humour."

They both indicated that they had indeed had eaten enough sandwiches, they declined the cake and still had tea in their mugs.

"Very well." Ollivander smiled. "I apologise, Dudley, I am only delaying for purely selfish reasons, please excuse this old man's idiosyncrasies. I only do this in order to savour the moment, normally I can have fun with a totally unnecessary tape measure, then bring a number of wands for my customers to try, as I say all pure theatre of course. The moment they enter the shop, the appropriate wand begins to sing to me, but I enjoy putting on a show, makes them feel they have their monies worth and entertains me no end as they believe my games. In your case however I am unable to play my games, you, Maria and I already know my ancestors final wand to be claimed, is yours."

"I'm sorry, but all I know is from Harry, he says the wand chooses the wizard." Dudley replied.

Ollivander nodded. "Indeed it does Dudley, though my usual game is to allow a customer to test other wands before selecting the one that I know calls to them. A totally unnecessary piece of theatre on my part, but it adds to the rite of passage getting ones first wand has become. In Toki's day wands were often custom made, though a wand maker would keep a stock as well, knowing that one day the wizard or witch for it would arrive. Toki must have known Lord Utred, this wand was made at about that time, it is the oldest still in the shop, made along with others that went in turn to their witch or wizard. Your wand is a special piece, it has been calling to you since you arrived, now it is time you claimed it."

"So how do I do that?" Dudley asked, intrigued.

"Raise your hand and concentrate on summoning your wand to it."

Dudley did as Mr Ollivander instructed, within moments a wand flew into his hand, landing in it with a smack. He wrapped his fingers round it and felt a warm glow. "Wow!" He gasped.

Maria looked at her Uncle happily, he nodded. "Yes that is Toki's wand. Now my dear what date shall we open the Hogsmeade branch and begin Dudley's training?" He smiled.

They stayed another hour, Dudley and Mr. Ollivander getting to know each other. The old man taking time to demonstrate his art to him and have Dudley start to make his first wand. When they left, they promised to return soon, Maria pleased that Dudley and her Great Uncle had got on so well.

It was mid morning when Ginny and Harry, with shield safely shrunk and placed in his pocket, were ready for Flame to transport them to the edge of Hogsmeade. They had not wanted to risk the shield unprotected through the Floo or Apparition, it had been fine in the protective charms that were on Hermione's bag, but they decided that as they had the option it was safer this way. Flame had been glad to take them, there had not been much for the Phoenix to do, except tease Tiberius of course. Within a second of disappearing from the living room, they appeared, hidden, in the trees beside road to Hogwarts from the village, only a couple of hundred yards from the gates. Flame flew high above them, the couple made their way the short distance to the road, then began to walk the short distance along it to the familiar gates, a few people were walking back towards the village.

"It's no good going up there mate, the grounds are closed until later today for some reason." One wizard told them absently, not looking up, as he lead his family back to the village. "Best go back to the village, there's plenty to see there, come back later." He hadn't noticed who he was talking to, though his children, who were not yet Hogwarts age, had recognised the couple and stared wide eyed as Harry grinned, winked and put his finger to his lips in a keep it quiet move to the youngsters, who giggled nodding, as they passed.

"Thanks, for the warning." Harry called and the man grunted, still not looking up as his children tried to suppress their laughter.

They waited until the family had disappeared, round the curve, seeing they were now alone they approached the gates, which swung open to admit them. They quickly walked through them and up the driveway, hearing the gates close behind them.

" 'ello you two, Minerva told us yer were comin', glad ter see t' gates still let yer in." Hagrid greeted as he approached them across the lawns.

Turning, Harry returned the greeting. "Hi Hagrid, have you been sent to meet us?" He laughed, as Flame settled on his shoulder.

Hagrid chuckled. "Aye yer could say tha'."

"Where's Grawp? It's not like him to be out of sight when he hasn't seen Harry for a few days." Ginny asked smiling.

A sudden noise from the forest preceded the sight of hundreds of birds taking to panicked flight, twittering in alarm, the rustling of their rapidly beating wings sounding like waves over a shingle shore. A deep laugh followed as more trees shook and birds to flight.

Ginny laughed. "Ah, he's in the forest, sounds like he's having fun, though I am not sure those birds would agree."

Grawps booming laugh again rolled over the grounds to reach them, they all smiled, the loud but childlike laugh was infectious and welcome.

"Aye, 'e's 'elpin the Centaurs agin, 'e loves it runin' roun' while t' young uns chase 'im." Hagrid grinned. "Bane's got 'em learnin' ter 'unt, reckons if they can't catch Grawpy they won't catch owt, E's 'avin' a grand ole time wi' 'em."

The sounds of crashing followed by fleeing wildlife increased from the forest, as did the deep rumble of Grawps laughter, which invariably followed each new explosion of birds from the canopy.

"Certainly sounds like he's having fun with them." Harry laughed as a louder crash than before was heard, a precursor to an even louder series of laughs.

"Aye, sounds like they've caught 'im now though." Hagrid Grinned. "He'll be 'ere in a minute if they 'ave."

Sure enough, moments later a still laughing Grawp emerged from the trees, his arm pushing apart the canopy before him. He was quickly followed by a gaggle of young Centaurs, trotting excitedly round his feet. Last to emerge, walking sedately behind the group smiling, was Bane, the chief of the Hogwarts herd. The group crossed the lawns towards them which, in the absence of students gathering them, were covered with Daisy's and Buttercups. Insects and pollen rising in clouds, with each step the group took as they approached.

"Ah, Mr and Mrs. Potter, you have returned earlier than expected." Bane greeted them, the youngsters instantly calmed and looked at the couple as their elder continued. "It is good to see you both, I take it by your presence that young Mrs. Weasley has fulfilled her destiny?"

Harry nodded. "She has Bane, just yesterday in fact. As a result, we have Gryffindor's shield with us, we must return it to its proper place today, could you let everyone in the grounds who needs to know, know. We are not sure what will happen when we do, if anything at all."

The Centaur smiled. "That is good, I shall take the youngsters home in that case and warn the tribe to watch for the signs that it is done." The Centaur then turned to Grawp. "My thanks once again for your help Grawp, we shall see you again tomorrow, if you are happy to continue."

Nodding happily, Grawp waved as the young Centaurs also thanked him, then followed Bane back into the forest.

"C'mon then Grawpy." Said Hagrid as the last Centaur disappeared. "We'd best get on, work to do. Are yer two comin' ter see Bucky later?"

"Of course we shall, Hagrid." Ginny smiled. "We couldn't come here and not see him after all, could we? Keep him in for now though, it wouldn't do for him to be flying while we do this, as Harry says, we don't know what may happen."

"Aye, I guess tha's right there, see yer both later, then." Hagrid agreed, then he and Grawp, turned and headed towards the lake, Harry and Ginny headed up to the castle, Flame still sat serenely on Harry's shoulder.

Minerva and Argus Filch were waiting for them in the entrance hall, the Headmistress grinned as they entered.

"Hello you two, can't stay away even for a break can you?" She greeted cheerily.

"Hello Minerva, seems that way doesn't it." Harry replied smiling, then turned to the care taker, who was holding a very long ladder. "Morning Argus, are you cleaning the windows today?"

"Morning professors, no, this is to help you if needed." He growled in as friendly and respectful manner as the gruff man got.

Minerva nodded once. "Yes we weren't sure what might be needed, we are the only ones in the castle today, Hagrid and Grawp in the grounds. I thought it best be prepared for any eventuality, so asked the staff to be away until we reopen the grounds, I thought it best to err on the side of caution in this and asked Argus to prepare anything he thought might be useful in getting the shield back into place."

Harry looked at Ginny, they had a silent conversation between themselves, then turned back to them. "We think it would certainly have been a good idea in the normal course of matters, however before you lug the ladder all the way to Gryffindor tower Argus, I'm afraid in this instance neither of us believe it would work. You see the shield is very large, we are sure it is too awkward for one person to lug up a ladder for one thing and both of us believe that it is probable that some form of magical effect is likely when it's put back where it belongs. We don't know exactly what that could be, but it will probably not be a good idea that anyone be that close to it when that happens."

"Neither of us want you getting hurt Argus." Ginny added kindly. "But, thank you for fetching it and thinking of it too."

The caretaker grunted and shrugged. "Perhaps you are right, it will save taking it up and down the stairs too."

"Will you come up to the common room with us though Argus?" Ginny asked. "Watch it being put back in place?"

"No, it's not my place professor." He said. "I reckon it's for you magical folk, not the likes of me."

He turned to put the ladder away, but Harry stopped him. "That's rubbish Argus, of course it's your place, you are as much a part of Hogwarts as anyone else is."

"Of course you are, but we also need to know where you are, just in case whatever happens affects you." Ginny soothed.

"Well if you think it will be all right." He repeated as he fed the ladder back through his office door. "I'll leave Mrs. Norris here though, in the office, if she gets in the common room, getting her out again is the problem, she loves that place for some reason."

He shut his office door and they set off up the stairs, walking through the empty corridors, their footsteps echoing from the walls. Even the moving staircase's behaved, providing them a swift route to the Gryffindor corridor. As they topped the stairs, Harry reached in to his pocket and pulled out a small disk waving a hand over it, it grew to it's full size.

Minerva gasped. "I never thought to see it."

"And my spirit never thought he would have to hide it Minerva." A voice said from behind them.

"Lord Utred!" Ginny exclaimed. "I always wondered who you were, now I know."

She smiled at the portrait, as Minerva shook her head in disbelief. "I don't believe it, does Hermione know you are here?"

"Perhaps she does by now." The portrait grinned. "Young Dursley and Maria were here on the last day of term, so they may have told her by now."

"You could have told me." Minerva sighed. "All those years as head of house and not a word from you. Not even the portraits would say who you were, did anyone at all know?"

"My mentors mother over there did and a couple of the Ghosts, including those of any I knew in life, but no, not even the headmasters knew, apart from my own successor as head of course and he wasn't going to tell anyone." The portrait laughed. "Over the years some students have discovered me, though they only knew me as Headmaster, not by name

"You should be with the other headmasters in my office though." Minerva said thoughtfully.

The portrait looked horrified. "Don't you dare, I am quite happy in the corridors for now thank you. There were very few who followed on after me who weren't either as dull as Salazar's dress sense, or in it as a way of building their own egos. I'd much rather see the antic's of the students, much more fun."

Harry grinned. "Especially the ones like the Marauders, Fred and George I expect."

"Of course Lord Potter, they were among the most entertaining, though you, Mr. Weasley and my descendant put on a good show as well, if more perilous than they. Now I believe it is time that you go to show Godric's mum what you are returning, I bet she hasn't been as happy as you will make her since she became guardian." The portrait told them. "She longs to see his badge restored, she used to hang beneath it, until his tower needed a guardian portrait. Who knows, one day she may not be needed there again, if the school returned to the original principles."

"She is not the only one excited to see it my Lord." The group turned ton see the Fat Friar and Bloody Barron approaching floating either side of the Grey Lady. "It will be wonderful to have his badge restored. Good man was Godric, always treated me with kindness after I chose exile here after Styr showed his true colours and avoided justice for his crimes. Godric may have been pagan, but I shan't hold that against him, he showed my beliefs respect, even though he didn't believe them." The Friar added

"Nor I, it is as significant as that day, the one when I died, my Helena saw me die, the Friars' life improved and yours became cursed my Lord." The Baron observed.

The Fat Friar smiled. "Ah indeed I almost forgot the day you died was also the same day I gave up monastic life, in compensation for the cowardice of my then King. Second best occurrence of my existence."

"What was your best then Friar." Utred's portrait asked.

"Oh that would be when I realised my death was not the end for me, thanks to the Queen Brida commanding that I never leave, the magic of Hogwarts took that literally." The Friar replied happily.

A none too discrete cough came from the end of the corridor, they looked up to see the Fat Lady trying, vainly, to look innocent.

"I guess we had best not keep her waiting any longer." Ginny grinned.

Harry held on to the shield. "Shall we see you again later Utred?"

"Aye Lad, I'm looking forward to that other school of yours, I'll pop down and see you. The founders pictures and ones of us Creaftas are in that wing, I'll be sure to visit it." The portrait called.

"Oi, Utred, don't forget the one of both your ladies and that old rogue Constantine too." The Bloody Baron grinned. "He'll love it having people to talk to again."

"You mean show off to and tease don't you." Utred's picture replied cheerfully.

Leaving the little noticed portrait, They all moved down the corridor towards the Fat Lady

She grinned. "That's better, I wondered how long he would keep you." She then turned to the group, waiting in front of her. "I am so pleased you are the one to restore my sons shield, Harry at last his tower and school will be restored. I hoped it would be you, as his and my heir."

"Thank you my Lady Gryffindor, may we enter?" Harry smiled, indicating where she hid the way in.

"What? Oh yes of course my dear, my pleasure." She gushed and swung open to reveal the familiar entrance to her son's tower.

The living climbed through the entrance hole, while the ghosts floated after them and entered the familiar common room, all was quiet, neat and tidy, evidently the house elves had already cleaned the room in readiness for the next term. They assembled round the fireplace and Ginny looked round. "There's someone missing." She observed, then looked at Harry. "They ought to be given the chance to be here Harry."

"They?" Minerva asked.

"Yes!" Harry replied. "Peeves is the merged spirits of all the Creaftas children who died too early, the ones that never made it through to childhood. They chose to stay together here, rather than go with their father as individuals."

"Well I never knew that." Minerva sighed.

Harry nodded. "Ginny is right, the Creaftas children who had no chance of life should be here. They did come to Whitby yesterday, after the other spirits arrived."

"Doesn't that mean that Peeves has gone too?" Argus asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No, they decided not to go with his father."

The Grey Lady smiled. "You remind me why I am pleased that I helped you find my mothers Diadem, despite my misgivings at first. Harry, you truly are a man with a good heart, call them please."

The Friar bounced happily. "Oh I am so glad you know who they really are, just call Harry, they will come."

"Argus, do not worry, I am sure they will behave." The Bloody Baron added.

"I'm not worried about that, not this time." Argus said gruffly. "No, he should be here regardless of my feelings."

Harry nodded. "Peeves, could you come here please." With a pop the Poltergeist arrived, looking a little more subdued than usual. "Hello Peeves, after yesterday we are here to return Gryffindor's shield to its proper place and we thought you should be here to see it happen, if you want to of course."

Peeves seemed to perk up, he straightened proudly. "Thank you, Lord Potter, we would like to see it restored as our parents were present when it was first placed."

"Right, let's get this done and make the castle complete again." Harry said and looked up the full height of the room.

There, high above the fire place, was the circular area marked by a stone border where the shield belonged and was to be returned. He propped the shield up against the wall next to the fire place and stood back. Without a word or a wand he used his hands to levitate the ancient shield, slowly, gently, carefully ensuring its emblem remained upright, preventing the shield from spinning so it faced the room as it rose. The ghosts and Peeves drifted up with it, until it hovered in front of its place, they told Harry it was high enough then descended. Steadily he backed the shield the few inches back, towards its position, adjusting it remained aligned as it slowly edged towards its place. The concentration on his face, as he carefully ensured it slotted precisely back into place within the recessed stone ring built to secure it, was clear and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

The shield edged slowly back until, the moment the shield bumped gently into it's correct place, the stone border glowed briefly. There was a hissing noise and Harry felt the weight of the shield lift from his magic, he dropped his arms and sat back on the sofa behind him, his eyes not leaving the shield, now back where it belonged.

The hissing ended with a thud, the stones had returned to their normal hue and for a moment nothing more happened, then three golden ribbons of brilliant light erupted from the Shields boss and shot out through the portrait hole. Seconds later three more ribbons flew back in through the entrance, one silver, one yellow, the other blue, one from each house. The instant the flowing, undulating ribbons touched the boss in the centre of the shield the whole shield erupted with a multitude of red, gold and white ribbons flying out through every window and door in the tower, to head both through the corridors and out into the grounds.

Hagrid and Grawp, having made sure Buckbeak was secure in his stable and the owls safe in their tower, were working close to the banks of the lake. Grawp suddenly stopped his task and stared at the castle, Hagrid turned to look at what had caught his brothers attention, his eyes widened at the sight. The building was glowing, he ran a few steps towards it, but stopped as ribbons of light erupted from Gryffindor tower, to fly in what seemed like random patterns through the air. They wrapped themselves around and through the building, then headed for the boundaries of the school. The ribbons split into hundreds, then thousands of threads, connecting to the boundary like a web of tendrils, visibly strengthening the wards, which began to glow with power, exposing dark bands stretching over and through the grounds as well as threading into and around the castle itself. The red, white and golden ribbons began attaching themselves to the dark bands, creeping along them. Slowly at first, then faster, as more and more of the myriad of coloured ribbons attached to the dark ribbons devouring the black bands at a steadily increasing speed.

The coloured ribbons replaced the dark ones, running into the ground and lake, following the courses of the black bands through the castle and environs, reducing them, until only one, very broad, black band entwined in a complex knot over and through the castle, remained. Hagrid and Grawp watched in stunned awe, gaping as every coloured band of light, reached and attached itself to the single, thick black one, remaining. For quite a while there seemed to be a fight between coloured and dark for dominance. The two brothers were rooted to the spot where they stood as the battle between the ribbons was fought. The white stone of the tall memorial glowed, the thin line of jet entwining it emitting a deep purple light, that blasted into the darkness near it viciously, sending a plethora of black and purple sparks into the air. For a time it seemed there was no effect on the dark belt, it was a stalemate that neither seemed able to break. Then gradually, slowly, very slowly, the coloured strands began to over whelm it. Steadily the power of the black band of dark magic, entwined as it was in the very fabric of the castle, was gradually eaten away by the coloured bands which rippled as they inexorably gathered pace, consuming their prey as surely as they had the rest of the dark bands, the black replaced by the colours. As the darkness was consumed, the ribbons again multiplied and strands began to disperse through more of the castle, then up to the glowing dome above, recharging it fully and pushing its boundaries out to cover the village and lands between.

The black band withered as it was devoured, angrily reluctant to release its hold on the school and grounds. It tightened its hold on the stones of the walls as it was attacked, wrapping itself over them, reacting as if alive and battling for survival even though it was steadily being devoured. The narrow ribbons of light that were slowly following the darkness along its course, gaining strength and intent on destroying the writhing, pulsating darkness, spread further as the other weakened. The length of black ribbon was shortening, but as it did, what was left seemed determined to survive, it managed to slow its demise, though not stop it. Then quite suddenly a critical point seemed to be reached, with a burst, the coloured ribbons overwhelmed the dark completely and there was no black left. The thinner, victorious ribbons all became gilt and exploded at the point they had destroyed the last of the dark. The thousands of now golden threads merged into five distinct broad bands, four charged into the ground whilst the other wrapped itself round the castle. Minutes later the four returned, shooting into the sky where they were joined by the fifth, morphing to form shapes. A gilded eagle now flew over the area watching for enemy, a golden snake wrapped itself protectively round the boundary. A matching coloured badger, lion and Griffon stood sentinel within the boundaries of the dome formed by the glowing wards, each ready to pounce should they be required to protect the area, the creatures linked by glowing golden threads.

Suddenly, with a bright flash, the wards shone platinum, then became invisible again, sending shafts of light back to Gryffindor Tower, where this had all started. The glowing animal shapes began circling, slowly gathering speed, binding the protection they had brought to the school, village and lands. Restoring stone walls, timbers and plaster, renewing the grounds and reviving ancient protections of blood and sacrifice put in place when the castle was built. An area in front of the entrance steps glowed releasing smoke and flame as the wards were renewed. The shapes of a boar and large fish just discernible in the smoke of the fire before it and the flames sank back into the ground, leaving nothing to show it had been there at all.

Even the water of the lake was effected as the beasts, now a blur of light, passed over and around it, the entire surface seemed to churn and swirl as they sped past. After a few minutes the animals stopped, though the vortex they created continued. Each of the beasts returned to the area of the castle where the house they represented was, The snake burrowed into the grounds beside the lake, the badger and eagle headed into the castle and the lion and Griffon returning to the tower were the effect had begun. All Gryffindor badges within the school now showing both, as did the newly restored shield.

The vortex began to die, it's diameter closing, becoming more focused as it moved over the ground. The two brothers barely kept their feet as it passed over them. Soon it had shrunk from the land, though it lingered over the water of the lake, closing around it alone, before further contracting to a small area of water close to the forest. Now a tornado, the wind created a spout of water, shooting into the air, syphoning the water high over the trees, creating a thick fog, obscuring even the trees from view. Then all of a sudden, the tempest ceased completely, sending a magical shock wave which spread quickly out to disappear over the horizon. The water crashed down into the lake, creating a large wave that spread over its surface, but the fog of finer droplets fell more slowly, the fog remained, though thinned, revealing a large dark shape, which quickly cut through it. A large long ship, complete with beasts head on its prow and tail at the stern, timbers blackened by age and water emerged from the mist, either side of the sleek lines of it's hull, two smaller boats were floating alongside. Water poured from the sides of all three, as the timbers dried and renewed before pristine square sails un furled and filled in the breeze. The largest ship leading the small flotilla, across the now calm sun kissed water, all three leaving small ripples in their wake, which spread out behind them. Their timbers were now clean and completely renewed as they rose in the water gently, the weight of water and silt lightening as both continued to flow from the vessels hulls. The three craft beached themselves in the shallows close to the shore next to Hagrid's hut, now looking brand new with sails, now loose, flapping in the wind, mast ropes straining and bright coloured shields on their sides.

The giant and half giant gaped as things settled, they were silent for a moment, then Hagrid sprang into action. Sending Grawp to check the grounds and creatures in the forest, he charged into the castle, determined to ensure the only human occupants of the castle, who he knew to be in Gryffindor tower, were safe.


The rough seas battered the rocks of the island mercilessly, the north sea was being stirred by a strong wind and heavy tide this day, despite the clear blue sky's above. As far as the occupants of the castle at one end of the rocky out crop were concerned, this was not unusual, it made very little difference to most of them anyway. The prison had occupied its place on the barren island for a millennium, built with the very rock that had formed the surrounding land, taken from the beaches and cliffs. It had once been surrounded by a palisade of wood, tents had sheltered the first prisoners beneath charms against the storms, they had tended the fertile soil within, growing crops to supplement their diet. As the Island had reduced in size and the castle grown, eventually the soil was no longer needed as the prison was complete, so it was abandoned and became wild. The once productive, fertile part of the island was abandoned, no one had set foot on it for centuries. Then when the Dementors had been brought, their presence killed the last of the vegetation, allowing the wind and sea to erode the soil, once held by the plants roots, until it was completely gone and only barren rock remained

The Dementors had been a threat on the main land since they had spread from their marshes, the Wizards managed to defeat them eventually, taking control using the Patronus charm. The remaining Dementors had agreed to leave and guard the prison, having been promised a constant supply of criminals to feed from and the occasional soul of the condemned. They had willingly chosen captive victims over wandering the country, feeding when they could, but soon came to realise they had lost more than they gained. By then though, they were trapped, prisoners as much as those they fed from, they had no way out, trapped by what they had agreed to do to avoid eradication by the wizards. They had jumped at the opportunity for freedom, when offered by the one with the broken soul, helped by some wizards, they had escaped the island. They had been promised much by the soulless one, but it had come to nothing once he was gone. After he was destroyed they had dispersed, once more spread across the country, no one knew where they all were.

Since then the ministry guards that had been assigned to the prison had noticed that small pockets of sand, close to the landing, had clumps of grass beginning to sprout from them. They had looked out of the windows in their quarters this spring to see green hints amongst the black rock, now in mid summer, the amount of clumps of wind blown, spray battered grass was growing, a few glaucous leaved shoots were beginning to appear as well. The tough plants were resisting the elements, the feathery seed heads of the grasses bowing in the wind, Azkaban Island was showing signs of life, of rejuvenation. The Guards now often braved the elements to check on the plants, which trapped more of the sand blown in, or carried on the waves, they noticed the patches in the rocks were slowly growing. None had yet examined the patches beyond the reach of the path that led from the jetty to the castle, but talk was that on the next fine, calm day then an expedition around the island would be mounted. It was intended to explore what could be seen from the windows of the castle, then put together a report for the ministry.

This day in the Prison had started much like all the others, the guards had patrolled, Malfoy had complained about the food and Umbridge had protested her innocence. Most of the prisoners simply got on with their lot, none more so than Umbridge's brother in law, whose only sign of rebellion was that every few days he berated the ex under secretary in the next cell to his, for her continued arrogant attitude. The guards had recommended that he was one prisoner who could be considered for a lower security area and perhaps a job in the kitchens.

The Warden was entering the staff room, where some of the guards were enjoying their mid morning break, he glanced out of the window in time to see a broad golden ribbon of light shoot out of the ground, illuminating the whole island as it flashed round the rocks and castle. As suddenly as it had come, the ribbon impacted with the tallest tower and disappeared. The warden and his staff rushed out, into the court yard and looked round in amazement. The sea was suddenly calm as a mill pond, the stonework of the castle appeared as if it were newly cut, the symbols of the founders of Hogwarts, Slytherin's shown as senior and where Gryffindor's lion should have been, was a badge with two animals on it, they now glowed above the door instead of the ministry shield, which had disappeared. They could see that the wards around the island glowed, as if highly charged, it somehow felt as if the place was even more secure, newly fit for its use. They returned to the staff room to find that all the wardens had gathered and waiting there.

"What's going on?" The Warden asked. "Why aren't you patrolling?"

"No need, the castle is doing it all for us, it's like when the Dementors were here, without the darkness of them though. We shall be supplementary, rather than essential from now on it seems." One of the guards replied.

"What?" The warden exclaimed.

"It's true, go and look." Another told him.

The warden left the room and walked round the castles corridors, long dormant Statues sprang to life as he passed, apparently recognising him or his position, opening doors for him, closing them behind him. He couldn't open one of the cell doors himself, until he asked to see the prisoner, at which point the door opened for him. He had the prisoner try to request the door open again, it remained shut and locked, until the Warden asked again. The Prisoner tried to follow the warden out, but was prevented by an invisible barrier. It seemed the prison was completely secure, by design, the statues each patrolling their own sections. He returned to the staff room. "I think I had better contact the Ministry." He told them.


The small town of Godric's Hollow was already busy with visitors and residents, both magical and Muggle. It was Market day and the square was full of stalls, many with souvenirs and holiday goods to take advantage of the seasonal visitors, amongst the more usual produce. Both Magical and Muggle students were enjoying the summer holidays with their families, which meant high season for the town and for the magical tourism co ordinator, Draco Malfoy.

This was his first full season in post, having taken it up part way through the last, when most of what was needed to be done had been arranged by his predecessor. Oliver Gresley had arranged the post for him then, it was now part of his department at the Ministry, along with an equivalent post in Hogsmeade, which was vacant for the time being, both positions were needed now the two places were experiencing a tourist boom. Godric's Hollow was now even more of an important a place of pilgrimage for Magical folk than it had been before the war, now that Harry had been seen there, it was felt he had approved the memorials and of course there was a chance they might see him. The post Draco held was partly ensuring that the statute of secrecy was up held, whilst enabling the magical visitors to enjoy their visit as well as seeing to the information available. This meant he was now the main liaison between Magical and Muggle authorities in the town, a task he found he quite enjoyable. There was now a none resident Apparition and Portkey point that enabled visitors to arrive, avoiding the chances of being seen by Muggles, residents of the town of course had their own arrangements. The new guide he had created for the Magical community included guidance on Muggle dress and the customs they held in the town, as well as listing events, enabling his own people to join in, almost seamlessly. Both Muggle and Magical histories of the town were included as well as the story of the Potters, it had become a best seller in the town, so much so that the Muggle authorities had seen the value of it. This had led to a version of it, adapted for Muggles, being published, it of course omitted mention of the Magical community and items like the guidance on dress, but was still well received and helped explain the crowds round the Potter's Grave and the so called site of their home in a way acceptable to non magical folk. Both versions were sold in the newsagents and post office, both run by alumni of Hogwarts, but of course the Magical version was invisible to Muggles. So far there had only been one awkward moment when a young Muggle born had asked his parents to buy a book they could not see, quickly resolved by the sharp eyed, quick witted post mistress, who took the family aside to explain, giving them the option of discovering more about the world their son would enter at age eleven or being returned to blissful influence. The family were now learning about the magical world, under supervision, a scheme that had given Kingsley food for thought on how Muggle born children were introduced to the Wizarding world in Britain.

Draco was out and about amongst the crowds in the town, he was shopping in the Market using Muggle money to pay for his purchases, something he would not have done not too long ago. He had become well known with the locals and Market traders as he had integrated into the community, he had not completely lost his old manner and he would not use some Muggle technology, but his attitudes had mellowed, it took time to get over a lifetimes training of prejudice. That said he had become a welcome and friendly figure amongst the locals, so was greeted warmly by many, privately he had grown used to looking after himself, he had learnt to cook well enough so that he didn't starve, he maintained a smart appearance having learnt how to launder his clothes and he kept his flat spotless. As usual on market day he took time to replenish his supplies, so was making his way to his favourite Butchers stall, when it happened.

All went still, the breeze stopped, silence fell and every Magical in the town knew something was about to happen, they could feel it. They glanced round, trying not to draw attention to themselves, then with a bright flash, they all felt an incredible surge of magical energy erupt from the ground, rocketing into the air, where it split and hit the dome of the wards over the town. The golden ribbons of energy recharged and renewed the protection placed over Godric's Hollow in less than a second, then it dispersed as quickly as it arrived. It left a charge in the air, and every one could feel it, but only Witches and Wizards could tell there was an increase in the magical power of the area.

"Blimey!" The butchers voice drew Draco's attention back to the market and activity around him. "That was a hell of a lightening strike, odd there's not a cloud in the sky. Lucky it didn't hit anything or anyone, eh Mr. Malfoy." He said cheerfully.

"Certainly was Mr. Barker, now what have you got for me today." Draco replied, he kept one ear open to hear if the other Muggles were saying anything untoward about the event, while wondering what had caused the sudden surge of Magic.

After a couple of minutes Draco, having paid for his purchases, bid goodbye to Mr. Barker and left with a bag of meat to last him for the week. From what he had overheard, he was reassured the Muggles were putting the incident down to a freak lightening strike. Even so, although he had yet to complete his shopping, he rushed back to his office, to report the event to the Ministry.


What had been a quiet, ordered even ordinary day in the Ministry suddenly became one of frenetic activity. Sudden enormous spikes of Magical power had been detected from Hogwarts, Azkaban, Godric's Hollow and two other locations. There was no clear explanation for the simultaneous spikes away from Hogwarts, or the one that had happened moments earlier at the castle. Then they were contacted by people out on the scene of the events, including Draco Malfoy and The Warden of Azkaban. They were at a loss for an explanation, but quickly took the reports up to the Minister. Kingsley took one look at the report and shook his head smiling ruefully, looking up at the official he said. "Don't worry, I'll speak to Harry, I have a feeling this may have something to do with a little job he was given to do yesterday."


At Gringotts, the chief of the bank was grinning madly at the map of the Magical estates of Britain, that was fixed on his office wall. Five, which had dulled due to other influences, now glowed brightly once more, for the first time in centuries. In fact prior to today he had only had rumour, passed down through generations of Goblins, that the five places had ever glowed this strongly at all. He knew it meant the restoration of the founders Magic over their estates and the resurrection of the wards they fuelled, it meant much more than most knew. How much would be answered in time, but change, restoration, was coming, of that he was certain.


In Gryffindor tower, where it had all started, unaware that the events they had caused had, had an effect across the country, the group who had watched the visible magic retreat back into the newly replaced shield. The final charge of light from outside preceded the sight of the three threads, that had rushed from the other founders objects into the tower, simply faded from view. Leaving them all silent, amazed by what they had seen from inside the castle, wondering what it had looked like outside.

Minerva was first to speak, quietly, her voice full of awe. "Well the wards have never felt stronger, not since I became head at least, not for many a year I suspect. I expect that was spectacular to witness from outside, I can feel that every curse placed here has been destroyed, if that took a visible form, then it would have been an incredible sight."

Harry nodded in agreement, but each of them, living and spirit, stood silently contemplating what had happened for several minutes, until the silence was interrupted and they heard the thunder of Hagrid approaching the common room at speed. Shaken from their contemplation, they all turned as one, just in time to see the out of breath half Giant as he burst through the portrait hole.

"Are yer all ok?" He asked gasping for breath.

"Fine Hagrid." Ginny replied. "Come on, sit down."

She led him to the largest sofa and he sat catching his breath, before telling them what he and Grawp had seen. When he told them about the longboats, Harry went to look out of the window that faced the lake, the three Ghosts, and Peeves who whooped in delight when he saw the vessels were there, he was just in time to see Grawp pick up one end of the largest, to carefully empty the remaining water from it, then propping it up as he splashed water into it, washing out the silt. Peeves zoomed out of the window, to go and assist his Giant friend.

"What you saw must have been the original charms and wards reasserting themselves Hagrid." Minerva said. "Sweeping away any later curses, over powering them, we speculated it must have been an incredible thing to see."

"Aye Headmistress." He agreed. "Ah'll never forge' it, tha's exactly what I' looked like t' me any'ow."

The Ghosts floated off into the school and once Hagrid had his breath back, the others made their way back down through the school. They acknowledged the grinning portraits of the Fat lady and Utred on the way back into the corridor, admiring the new looking stonework and glass as they went. The moving stairs continued as they had, the trick stairs remained, but there was a fresh feel to the whole building. They stopped to look in the Great Hall where the banners of all four houses hung in readiness for the start of term. All four were more vibrant, somehow even more lustrous than they had been, but it was the Gryffindor one that showed the greatest change. A lion and a Griffon gambolled about on the banner now, as if they were long lost friends reunited on the red and gold cloth. The school was, at last, restored.


They had sensed the change, the power that had suddenly been activated across this land was enormous and it was not in just one place on the island. It was a restoration of power that was a racial memory to them. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were once again out of their reach, although until, the soulless one of empty promises had come to them, they had only seldom been allowed there. Godric's Hollow was, they sensed, now blocked completely from them as were the lands of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Those lands had not been that fruitful for them in the past anyway, it was just they were now blocked from them again. That was important now, though it wasn't until they had followed the one with the fractured soul, believed his promises, bred to strengthen his armies, that they knew now had been a mistake, that all places had become important to their survival. Now that they were dispersed across this country, no longer breeding, battling to survive with their increased population, that being excluded from anywhere had become important to them. They now had no home, thanks to following that deluded wizard, they had become nomadic, as they had never been before. They were hidden in forests and dark places once again, but not in a community as they had before. Forced to prey on any human or creature that might cross their path, no matter how poor a feast it might be. They could still hear their brethren, knew where each one of them were, though they could not stay long in anyone place or they would not remain concealed from the magical ones. Winter was easiest, when the ground froze naturally, but now their presence killed the plants if they stayed too long, revealing them to the magical world.

They had lost it all, followed the wrong side, abandoned the home they had been given where the food they needed, had been plentiful, now they were the prey of Wizards. Now it was rarely that they could feed, they needed those emotions constantly or a soul once in a while to survive. Most of them had managed to subsist on the emotions of those humans passing or the foul tasting souls of mundane beasts. There were stories that a few had managed to capture a mundane humans soul, but they were just tales. It had now been two winters since they had been forced to live like this, a few of their number had been caught, a few had wanted to find the marsh where they originated from, but it's location was lost to them. A growing number had wanted to return to the island where the one with the fouled soul had come for them, they had been on the verge of contacting the Wizards to arrange their return, but that was impossible now. Whatever had happened to close off places to them, had happened there as well, they would no longer be able to return there.

Every one of them sensed it, it had awoken an ancient racial memory, they instinctively knew to go there now would mean death, there had been a place near the mythical Marsh of their origin like that. A feeling of desperation was growing among them, they had hidden long enough, they must survive. They would regroup, they would force the wizards to acknowledge them, provide what they needed, force them to drop the wards again, allow their return to the castle. They would go to Muggle places, where they could feed as much as they desired, rebuild their strength, this land had become painful to them it was time to reclaim it. The Sceadugengan would rise again.


In the evening after they had returned the shield, after Harry had been told by a smirking Kingsley what had happened as a result across the country, in the village of Hogsmeade, a young bushy haired witch sat in her garden, a smile on her face. Her husband was struggling with the charcoal barbecue they had received as a wedding gift from a Muggle Aunt. His father was helping him in his own way, adding to the general confusion, while her own father was holding his sides from laughing so hard, too much to be able to help, stood next to them. The rest of their family and friends were due to arrive at any moment, for a celebration of the last few days events.

"Boy's and barbecues." Her mother said wistfully, then looked at her daughter. "You all right my dear?"

She didn't reply at first, simply watching as Dudley joined the barbecue lighting team. Her husband and father in law yelped as suddenly the coals leapt into flame at the touch of the young Dursley's wand.

Her husband swore as his colleague looked at his wand bewildered, his girlfriend joined him smiling, he had just performed over powered wand magic for the first time. It was only a few hours since he had got it and was still getting used to how it focused the little power he had. He looked at her and muttered "Utred?" The smile growing on his face as Maria helped him learn Aquamenti charm, using his new wand, which shot water over the two Weasley and one Granger men. Maria absently dried them then moved away with Dudley to try to help him with his control, they practised near the pond.

Hermione's attention returned to her mother. "Oh yes mum, our family is healed after a millennium and I am married to a wonderful man, I couldn't be happier." Hermione finally replied, content, she looked again across the garden to where the men were still struggling with the now smoking Barbecue.

"Not worried that after everything, life could be a little boring from here on in?" Her mother asked.

Hermione looked at her mother and grinned, understanding passed between the two and both burst into laughter. They both knew that even if there were no more Dark Lords to deal with or Prophecy's to fulfil, their lives were bound to be anything but, boring. Their respective husbands would, at the very least, see to that. Calming they looked over to the men and burst into laughter again, their spouses faces were covered in soot.

The men looked over to the two laughing women with puzzled expressions, then looked at each other and shrugged, they knew better than to ask.

Eiga Lúka.

(The End).


Authors' notes:

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter this story. It is with mixed feelings that at last it has been published in it's entirety.

As always many thanks to all who have reviewed, I look forward to reading any more that may be left. I will of course keep checking for new ones, as I still do with Essence of Revenge and my other stories as well.

Although a sequel to this is in the works, it is quite a long way from being ready, it will continue the story of the modern era characters, though not the founders era ones I'm afraid. Of course should inspiration strike, never say never. I do have other stories closer to being ready and will be publishing them in the meantime. So although it is goodbye to Utred and the Creaftas, I feel it right to continue to say.

Until next time.
Tgfoy