Disclaimer: Do you speak Micronesia-Spiderish? I don't own Harry Potter and co. but then, who does? Well, J. K. Rowling, some film producers, etc, but not me. Heck, no.
Oh, and some little weirdo challenged me to put someone screaming 'Commie Mutant Traitor!' in this fic, so don't blame me for the weirdness.
By the way, and Regina will be popping up a lot, in this fic and the sequels. Blame Red. (J/K, Red!)
Important note; DEUS is pronounced /Day-ús/. That's /ús/ as in 'humongous', 'delicious', 'vicious'.
Yup, as I've been promising since the beginning, it's time for DEUS and Sterling to make a grand entrance.
Take it away, guys!

New Spell Guide:
Mutare Elementa - Change Element
Predecerus - A take on predecessor
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| By the star, below: If you take this sentence by itself, it sounds completely crazy. (^_^) |
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Chapter 8: Part II
Of Raven's Return and Revelations of R.O.S.E.
(Or, Why It Makes Things A Lot Easier If You Tell Your Friends
When You Receive Really Weird Messages.)

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard...
~ A very annoying song, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets


Undoing the twist at the top, he peered inside. There was another note, but on Muggle paper. . . and also, what looked like, to the casual observer, white, glittering powder. To knowledgeable wizards and witches, however, it was Floo Powder, a magical method of transportation - if you had use of a fire, of course. For some reason, it appeared to be glowing a faint green, but Harry made that out to be a trick of the light.
Reaching inside, Harry grasped the note between two fingers and pulled it out, looking at it carefully.

As you did not have any, we believed it wise to give you this.
The owner of the Vocare Room.

 was written on the paper in gold ink. Harry sat back on his bed and snarled inwardly. Great! It looked like it was time fore another battle between the Marvellous Curiosity and the Fantastic Common Sense. He chased the thoughts from his mind by running over what Vocare actually was.
It wasn't English, that was certain. It didn't sound like French, or German, Spanish, Italian - although, he was nowhere near being an expert in those languages.
Latin was probably his best bet, so Harry reached further down his trunk, finally taking out a thin volume. He opened it to 'V', and started looking. It took a few minutes, but he finally found it; vocare; to summon, or call.
'Okay,' Harry thought, glancing back at the note. 'Now I'm confused.' He put the book back, sighing. It wasn't as if it meant anything he could understand - he was expecting it to say 'wizard' or 'magic', or even 'confusing', which would have fit perfectly.
Looking back at the Floo Powder, he measured it out as best as he could. By the depth of the package, and it's apparent volume, there would be enough for about thirty uses or so. Before he could think of why there was so much, he turned his thoughts to whether he was going.
"No." he decided forcefully. 'It may not seem like it, but it could still be a trick. It's just too easy.' he insisted to himself, and stood up, realising he wouldn't be able to get any sleep at this rate, with such thoughts running around his mind.
"Library." he said aloud, and started to head downstairs. As he neared the stairs however, a fluttering made him turn. "Sterling?" he almost yelled in shock, quieting himself just in time. "Why did you go?" he asked, rushing to the bird, who landed on his outstretched arm indifferently. "Why did you go?" he repeated, almost scolding, almost pleading. "And where? Are you really Gryffindor's?"
The bird looked at him suddenly at this. It seemed that whatever Sterling had been expecting, it wasn't this. The sentence had - if you'll excuse the pun - distinctly ruffled her feathers.
Harry gave a victorious smile. "I thought so. You are, aren't you? But what are you, really?"
The bird just gazed at him, and, raising it's wings, took off and flapped, almost silently, over to Harry's bed, where it gazed evenly at him, as though expecting him to rush over and grab her.
"Fine." the boy announced, turning on his heel, and pausing at the door to the stairs. "Fine. You stay here. But don't fly away again. I don't know why you've come back, or why you came in the first place. Maybe it's because I'm Gryffindor's heir, maybe for another reason. I don't really care. I just want to know what you are."
He swung open the door and slipped out, rushing down the stairs, and leaving the now thoroughly shell-shocked bird behind.
As he left, Harry had only one, repeating thought.
'I was talking to a bird. I've gone nuts.'

~ ~ ~

It turned out, much to Harry's relief, that Hermione and Ron were in the library, searching for the Founder's biographies. Ron was busy searching the shelves, while Hermione, as the only one of the two who could read the enchanted writing, was flicking through a yellow bound book which Harry guessed to be the biography of Helga Hufflepuff; the house colours of which being yellow and black.
On the table, there lay what must be the biography of Rowena Ravenclaw, bound in a blue cover.
Hermione was running down the pages angrily, a stony look set on her face.
Harry let them know of his presence, by giving a sharp knock on the door. "Found anything?"
"We don't know." Hermione snapped, looking up, eyes ablaze. "I thought you were having an early night?"
"Couldn't sleep." Harry explained, not caring that he would probably incur the wrath of the girl. "So, what do you mean, you don't know?"
"What she means," Ron mentioned, as he flitted from shelf to shelf, "is that the Gryffindor book was the only one in the right section, and it's hard work finding the others. It also means that we've managed to find Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and she's not in either of them, so far. Which only leaves one person."
"Slytherin?"
"Slytherin." Hermione ascertained bitterly, to which Ron added, "Slytherin! I've found it!" Pulling a thin volume down from one of the bookcases containing Dark Arts and Defence books, he threw it to Harry, who caught it easily with his Seeker reflexes. "You have a look at that, while Hermione finishes Ravenclaw." he told him, and Harry complied.
Opening the book (a nasty shade of bottle-green), he turned to the back few pages, and traced his finger down the page.
'Maria Heinsickle married Jeffrey Turret. In the same generation, Faye Heinsickle married Mark Varin. Maria and Jeffrey had Reynaldo Turret, and Faye and Mark had Lucille Varin. . .' the name, 'Lucille Varin', struck a chord somewhere in Harry's memory. Something recent, not long ago - he ignored his thoughts, and continued reading. 'Lucille Varin married Darrell Potter, who had James Po - '
"NO!"
Hermione dropped the book she was holding, and Ron leapt up from his homework. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"Did you find Hermione?" Ron asked apprehensively , preparing for the worst. Hermione stayed silent, staring at the book.
"No," Harry denied, "I just. . . I saw Voldemort. I knew I should have been expecting it, but it just came as a surprise, you know. I don't really know why." Hermione breathed an obvious sigh of relief. "Keep looking, then." Ron said thankfully, and turned back to his work.
"Yeah." Harry said, putting on a weak smile and looking at the book. Stupid. Shouldn't have said that out loud. . . 'Okay.
If Hermione's in here, she'll be on the same line as me, since she was born in the same generation. People on the
same line are Mildred Turret - no, it says deceased 1989, Erick Falls, deceased 1992 and Terrance Falls, the same year of death. That's strange. . . them all dying with in three years. . . well, no Hermione, anyway.
 'Just me.'
He slipped the book back on the shelf. "You weren't in there." he informed Hermione, coming over to her. She looked up, puzzled. "But there's no other Founders. I've looked through all the books, and there aren't any mentions of me."
"Maybe it's because your parents were Muggles." Ron volunteered, but Hermione shook her head. "No. The books said they wrote everyone out. Wizard, Squib, Muggle, whatever. I think we should start looking at this in another way." she said, eyes gleaming. "Like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said; when you eliminate the impossible, no matter how improbable, whatever is left must be the answer."
"And this means. . .?" Ron asked, at a complete blank. Harry shrugged, but Hermione just grinned and held up three fingers.
"Fact one. I can read the books because I'm the heir of one of the Founders." She put down one finger.
"Fact two. I'm not the heir of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin." She put down another.
"Conclusion:," she put down her index finger, "There was a fifth, unknown, unrecorded Founder."

~ ~ ~

The boys, needless to say, exploded. "WHAT!"
"YOU'RE MENTAL! YOU - ! YOU - ! YOU MUTANT COMMIE TRAITOR!"
Silence.
"What?"
"It was from the 'Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle' comics." Ron explained. "It was Martin's catchphrase."
"Thank you for sharing that valuable bit of information, wisdom and experience." Hermione said sarcastically. "Back to the matter at hand, however, all the information fits. There's no other explanation, apart from getting the spell wrong, but that's hardly likely.
"And this is?" Ron groaned, and collapsed into a chair. "Hermione, that's just. . . just plain stupid! There's no house animal, nothing on the coat of arms, no name; even if there was another Founder, there's no mention of him or her, anywhere."
"Hermione's right though." Harry said uncertainly, "It does sound like the most likely explanation. I'm not accepting it completely at this moment, but there doesn't seem to be much else to go on.
"If we could find something, that would trace my family back a thousand years, to the time of the Founders, we'd be almost certain who it was." Hermione smiled thoughtfully. "Wouldn't it be fascinating to know who it was? Or why they left, and there's no house with them?"
"Maybe they died while the school was being built?" Ron suggested, balancing his quill behind his ear. "Or maybe there was a bigger argument than with Slytherin, and they got rid of the entire house?"
"No, they would have kept the house, even if the Founder left." Hermione sighed, and closed the book. "Perhaps we'll never solve it."
"Oh, come on, Herm'." Ron chided, the quill falling off his ear, and dropping on the floor. "When have you ever just given up before? We'll solve the mystery, easy. There must be some kind of spell or potion to show your family."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Hermione smirked. "The Predecerus incantation will show me my family, going back to four hundred B.C, when the spell was invented."
"Here we go." Ron muttered, and Harry picked up the quill from the floor. "Okay, the Pred-whatever spell. Is it Latin, or something?"
"No, no-one knows who invented it." Hermione made clear, "A Witch found it in a store in some old bookshop in France. There's the dates the spells were invented, in normal numbers, but no-one knows what the spell's called, or what language it's in. The Witch just tested it, found out what it did, and called it the Predecerus incantation. But, there's a problem."
"And the problem would be?" Ron asked cautiously, turning his head slightly.
"The problem would be, that I only found the book while looking for the Polyjuice Potion recipe. It's in the restricted section."
"It's Dark magic?"
"Of course not!" Hermione denied, "It's just that there's Dark spells in it. And we could hardly ask a teacher for a Dark book, even if we told them we were just using a normal spell."
"So, our mission, should we choose to accept." Harry concluded, "Get into the restricted section - that shouldn't be too hard - find the right book - which, unless you've memorised how it looked, is going to be hard, and get it out. Then, we get it out, and cast the spell."
"Uh. . . yeah, But there's a few more problems." Hermione added sheepishly. Ron groaned. "What?"
"For a start, no-one's ever been able to translate a single letter of the book. Secondly, I can't remember what the book looked like, or what page the spell's on. What I remember of it, however, is that it's really long and hard to remember."
"This just gets better and better." Ron said, giving up. "Okay. Tomorrow night, we'll sneak down and have a look. Right now, I've got to go somewhere, or I'll be late. Goodnight." He leapt up and gathered his things, hastily shoving them into his bag and practically running out of the room.
"Wait!" Harry called suddenly, and Ron stopped. "What?"
"I wanted to ask whether either of you have been in my trunk. All the Fortune Finder predictions have been written out, and someone put some Floo Powder in there. I know neither of you put the Powder in," he corrected himself, "but I didn't know whether you copied out the predictions."
Ron looked at him slowly. "You have Floo Powder?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, so?"
"Never mind." Ron shifted his bag. "Anyway, I didn't copy the predictions out, or leave anything in there. See you in the morning." He fled the room.
"What's up with him?" Harry asked, puzzled, turning back to Hermione. She had a strange look on her face.
Harry waved a hand in front of her face, slowly. "Hermione? Hermione Granger? Hellooo?" Hermione snapped out of her daze. "Oh, right. Sorry. I was just thinking about something. Harry, can you put these books away? I need to go."
She grabbed her backs, and exited as fast as Ron.
Harry stared after them, completely and utterly confused. "What in God's name is wrong with those two?"

~ ~ ~

When Harry had shoved the books back in the Founders section, he checked his watch. It was eight thirty-five - twenty-five minutes until the curfew.
He spent the next ten minutes reading the start of Gryffindor' biography, and then headed back to the Gryffindor dorms, making sure to hide his mark from passers-by in the corridors.
When he finally reached the common room, Hermione was writing her book, and Ron was no-where in sight.
Harry reached is room, and it seemed that Ron was, in fact, having an early night. Harry changed for bed, and had just got in, when Ron spoke. "Did you send Hermione up here?"
"No." yawned Harry, watching Sterling out the corner of his eye. "Why?"
"She came up here. A couple of minutes before you did. Talked about the Predecerus incantation and how to find it. I thought maybe you sent her."
"No, she left the library a moment after you did." Harry informed him, and turned over, closing his eyes. "Night."
"Night."

~ ~ ~

Something was tapping against his face, slowly. "Stop it, Ron." Harry groaned, shifting in his half-sleep. "I'll be up in a minute." The tapping continued, faster. It suddenly stopped, and then a sudden, hard, rap on his forehead finally woke him.
"Ow! Okay, I'm up!" Harry yelped, sitting up. He rubbed his eyes, and grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, where his wand also lay.
Blinking, he looked round at the tower. It was dark, much too dark for morning. Dean, Neville and Seamus were asleep, still in their beds if the shapes under the covers proved everything, but Ron was gone.
Looking for the one that woke him, Harry glanced elsewhere than the beds, and by the side of his own.
He glared at the black bird, barely noticeable, but for it's beak and jewel, in the gloom of the night. "What are you doing? I was asleep." he asked it, stifling a yawn, and sitting up straighter. Sterling gave a small caw and dropped something into Harry' lap. The boy took his wand from the table, now, and held it to the object. "Lumos."
It was the Vocare Room invitation.
"Sterling, I'm not going." Harry sighed, not even bothering to wonder how she had managed to get inside his chest. "I'm just going to get some sleep. I've got Astronomy at midnight."
The bird seemed angry at this. She fluttered her wings impatiently, and took wing, landing on Harry's trunk of belongings.
Harry glanced at his watch. It was nine thirty-eight. "I don't care how much you want me to go, I'm. Not. Going. Got it?"
The bird gave another violent caw, and clawed at the trunk. "Fine. I'll go downstairs to the fire, but I'm not going through. Is that okay with you?" This time, the caw was in the affirmative.
Getting up, Harry changed quickly into a set of black robes, and, Sterling landing on his shoulder, slipped downstairs, the invitation and his wand in his pocket.

~ ~ ~

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs, and stopped as he heard two people talking in hushed whispers by the fire, which was, strangely enough, burning at this time of night. Hiding behind a chair, he recognised the voices as Hermione and Ron, unsurprisingly, arguing.
"I'll ask again, and this time don't avoid the question. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Hermione hissed angrily, her voice spitting venom.
"That's none of your business. What are you doing here?"
"I'm not telling you, until you tell me."
"Well, I won't be telling you, so you'll a long wait. Go to bed."
"You go to bed!"
"No way! I have something important to do, so get lost."
"Fighting again?" Harry asked, coming out from his hiding place. Ron and Hermione stopped their bickering immediately, and stared at the boy. "Harry?" Hermione asked, "When did you get down here?"
"At the 'I'll ask again' part." Harry replied, coming closer. "What are you two doing down?"
"What are you doing down?" retorted Ron, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's not get into another argument like the last one." she sighed. "Let's just all tell each other the truth about why we're down here."
"Okay," Harry said, and Ron nodded.
Then, all at the same time, they said "I got this strange letter - "

~ ~ ~

They stopped. "We all got a letter?" Harry asked, and reached into his pocket, taking out the invitation. At the same time, Hermione took hers from her robes pocket, and Ron from his.

Dear Mr Potter,
You are cordially invited to the Society of the Vocarine, to receive your Gift.
Please come to 'Vocare Room' via Floo powder at ten o'clock, Tuesday the thirteenth of September, night.
Yours sincerely,
The owner of the Vocare Room.

Harry read aloud for the other two's benefit. Ron's face turned to shock, and he read his.

Dear Mr Weasley,
You are cordially invited to the Society of the Elements, to receive your Gift.
Please come to 'Incendium Hall' via Floo powder at ten o'clock, Tuesday the thirteenth of September, night.
Yours sincerely,
The owner of the Incendium Hall.

The pair watched Hermione as she read her letter.

Dear Miss Granger,
You are cordially invited to the Society of the Sight, to receive your Gift.
Please come to 'Imminent Division' via Floo powder at ten o'clock, Tuesday the thirteenth of September, night.
Yours sincerely,
The owner of the Imminent Division.

"Well, I think we've learnt our lessons." Harry sighed. Hermione looked confused, so Harry explained. "It makes things a lot easier if you tell your friends when you receive really weird messages."
"Well, that's all well and good, but what are they?" Hermione questioned wearily, and Ron grinned. "The only way to find out, is to go."
Harry held up his hands. "Hey, slow down with the ideas. I'm not going, and I don't think you should, either. It could be a trap."
Ron waved his hand, "Don't be daft. Why would You-Know-Who send us these? He'd just kill us or kidnap us, not send an invitation. And besides, if you aren't going, why did you come down, hm?"
"Sterling forced me to." Harry explained, pointing to the bird that sat quietly on his shoulder, somehow managing to wear a smug expression.
"Aha! So Sterling wants you to go!" crowed Ron, "And that bird is meant to look after you! It was sent to you. . . by. . . someone. . ." He slowed to a halt.
"Ron?" Hermione said, worried, and Ron shook his head clear. "Harry, I don't know how we didn't see it before. It was so obvious! Someone sent her to protect you, and she's probably Gryffindor's bird-"
"I thought we agreed that she wasn't?" Hermione said sharply, but Ron ignored her. "- and you're Gryffindor's heir! Maybe another of Gryffindor's heirs sent her to protect you!"
"She isn't Godric Gryffindor's pet!" Hermione shrieked, slamming her Sight invitation on the armchair.*
"Be quiet!" Ron hissed, "It was just an idea. Look, guys. Are we going to try and find out what these places are, or not? I mean, I can tell you're both extremely interested in this, really."
Hermione groaned. "I know, but I've never heard of anyone getting these types of invitations before. We don't know what to expect, or where we'll be going. I know for a fact that you're the only people I've told."
"Okay, then." Ron announced. "You two can stay here. But I'm going, got it? I got the Floo Powder," he looked a little guilty here, "from Harry's trunk, as soon as I heard he had some. Personally, if Sterling's trying to get Harry to come here, then I trust her. She's meant to be keeping him safe, not helping trick him."
Digging his hands deeper into his pocket, he brought up some twisted paper. Untwisting it, he revealed sparkling powder.
"Ron. . ." Hermione warned, but he ignored her. "You can follow after me, if you want to." he informed them, and threw the Floo Powder onto the fire. It turned an emerald green and rose higher. Before either of the others could stop him, he stepped in, and said, "Incendium Hall!"
"Ron!" Hermione cried, but it was too late.
Ron had already gone.

~ ~ ~

"Ron!" Hermione cried, but it was too late.
Ron had already gone.
"Damn!" swore Harry, as the green flames turned back to normal now that their user had been transported.
"Should we go after him?" Hermione asked, her face ashen white.
"No."
"Yes."
"What do you mean, yes and no?" Hermione asked, tears in her eyes. "He could be hurt, or-"
"I didn't say no, I said yes." Harry defended himself. "I don't know who said - wait a minute. . ." he said, as another thought hit him head on. He took from his pocket the three predictions, and found Ron's one.
Thoughtlessness, rashness. . .
New adventures, new beginnings - unlimited possibilities. . .
"Well, those seem to be fitting in right now." Harry muttered, and pocketed them again. "I don't know who said 'no', but it wasn't me. We'd better-"
"No." a woman's voice said.
"Hermione? What do you mean?"
"Harry, I didn't say that."
"But there's no-one else here; well, except for. . ."
The pair of them slowly turned their heads to look at the determined bird.
Hermione blinked. "You've got to be kidding me. Okay then, why no?"
Sterling cocked her head to the side. "He has gone to where he is meant to go. If you wish to go anywhere, then you should go to your rightful destinations."
"This is nuts." Harry cradled his head in his hands. "I've got a talking bird, possibly belonging to Godric Gryffindor, which is telling me that I shouldn't look for my missing friend, but should go to a location I've never seen or heard of before, with no-one else, with no-one knowing I've gone at all. Is that about it?"
"Not exactly." the bird replied. "It's not a possibility, I do belong to Godric."
"Someone get me out of this dream." muttered Hermione.
"It's nearly ten o'clock. You'll be late for your respective appointments."
"Wait, wait!" Hermione picked up her invitation. "You mean this, I suppose. Look, who are you, anyway, or what? Where are these places? Why should we go?"
"You'll find out." the raven said mysteriously. "I promise you, you won't be hurt or held against your will. Everything will be explained."
Harry looked at Hermione. "I've got this strange feeling that she's telling the truth. Do you want to try?"
Hermione nodded shakily. "I've got enough Floo Powder for the both of us. I got it from your trunk, while Ron was in bed." Harry glared at her. "Let me guess; you distracted him by talking about the book? And that's why you acted weird in the library - you heard I had Floo Powder, which you needed?"
Hermione nodded awkwardly.
"So, it all fits." Harry sighed, taking the Powder that Hermione now offered him. For some reason, the slight green glow still surrounded the Floo.
Hermione tossed her own pinch over the fire. "Imminent Division." she told it, stepping into the green flames. They rose about her, and she was gone, the flames turning back to their brilliant red.
Throwing the Floo Powder on the fire, Harry looked at Sterling, still perched on his shoulder. "You're coming with me?" She nodded jerkily. "I'm needed to explain some things. I hope you're not tired; this is going to take a few hours."
"But I have Astronomy at midnight," Harry told her, suddenly remembering. "I can't go to both."
"It's all sorted. You won't be missing anything."
"A Time-Turner?" he asked, turning back to the fire. Sterling gave a small laugh. "No. It's just a quite simple spell. You won't have to learn anything from Astronomy when you get back, and no-one will have noticed you missing. You'll understand soon enough."
"I hope so." Harry muttered. "I have a really bad feeling that things are about to get a lot more confusing."
"You'd be right." Sterling informed him. "The Floo fire only takes one person, so I'll be waiting there for you." With that, she rose into the air, and faded from sight.
Feeling that nothing could surprise him anymore, Harry went into the flames. "Vocare Room." he surrendered, and vanished from Hogwarts, England, Britain, and the very plane of existence.

~ ~ ~

Travelling by Floo was always the same. The rushing, whirling feeling, the dizziness, the appearance of other grates and fires whizzing past.
So, it came as great surprise to Harry, when none of this happened. There was no sight of fires or rooms ahead. Instead, there was a blurry vision of blacks and greys melding and melting together and apart, and, in the place of the dizziness, a smooth sensation of. . . something. It wasn't a feeling of going up, or down, forwards or back, left or right, but more like he was moving within.
It took a few seconds - maybe ten or twelve - to arrive at the destination. The blacks and greys faded into a brilliant white, and the sensation stopped. Harry instinctively checked his surroundings. He wasn't standing in a fireplace any more; instead, he was in the centre of a gold edged circle, raised about half a foot in the air. Within it's gold edge, it was pure white, and seemed to be made of some kind of unidentifiable material.
The circle was in one of the corners of large, square room; all the walls, the ceiling and the floor were in the same dazzling white, and in each corner - and in the centre of the room - there was more of the raised circles. There was no-one else around, but set in the far wall was a white, handle-less door. The only reason Harry could see it was that it had a gold outline.
Stepping off the low platform, Harry made his way to the door, thoughts of where he was - and where Sterling was - running through his head. It seemed that the circles were some kind of transportation system, since he had come to them from the fire.
Harry stopped at the door, unsure of how to open it without the handle. At first, he pushed it, but it didn't swivel open. Trying again, he pulled it sideways, but it didn't work.
"Just damn open!" he hissed angrily, and it did, moving like a sliding door into the wall. Harry stared. "Oh."
Beyond the door, more white met his eyes, though it wasn't as bright as in the room. It was a long corridor, and along it, at regular intervals, ran gold outlined doors; handle-less, like the one he had just opened. Set in them, however, were small gold plaques with writing.
Harry stepped out into the hallway, uncertain of what to do. Glancing at one of the plaques, he read the inscription;

S.V: Master's Room - G.G

was written on the gold in a deep scarlet. "Great." Harry muttered, standing back again. "That really helps to explain where I am." He took his wand from his pocket and held it ready, in case it did turn out to be a trap.
Turning back to the white room, whose door had now closed silently, Harry saw that it had a gold plaque on this side.

S.V: Transportation Room

it read, it the same scarlet font. Unsurprisingly, this too did nothing to help Harry work out where he was. So, starting to feel nervous, he chose a direction and headed left down the corridor, wand by his side.

~ ~ ~

Harry had only been walking for two minutes or so, hearing nothing and passing no-one and nothing but rows upon rows of white doors, the occasional twist or turn of the corridor, white tiled floors, smooth, white-washed walls, and the strange, ever-present light - even though there were no windows, and no visible light sources - when the sound of running feet caught his attention. It sounded faint at first, and the got louder as it moved closer, a steady 'thud:thud:thud.' of shoes.
It was coming, Harry worked out, from in front of him.
He had a brief, internal struggle over running in the opposite direction, or waiting for whoever it was, and decided to wait. He had his wand, and if it was a friend, or someone who would help him, then it wouldn't improve his condition by hiding, running or attacking them.
Holding his ground, his wand arm ready by his side, he waited as the steps came louder and closer, and the person became visible, a few metres away, coming out of a hallway leading off the main corridor.
It was a woman, somewhere in her mid-twenties by the look of her, but quite tall. Her brown-black hair was tied in a short ponytail at the back of her head, and her eyes; her eyes were definitely unusual. They were slightly slanted upwards, and the iris was coal-black like her pupils; but with shining silver streaks running out from the pupils. Her ears were strangely pointed at the top, which made Harry recognise her instantly as an Elf, such as from the history books.
She was dressed in a pair of black jeans, and a dark green top, which suited her and each other perfectly
The Elf looked Harry over, as if judging him. "Are you Harry Potter?" she asked, stopping in front of him. Harry gave a small nod in his confusion. 'Well, at least they know my name, even if I don't know theirs. . .'
The Elf rolled her eyes, as if thanking someone. "Finally! There was such a panic when you didn't turn up at the usual T.R; and then Godric let slip he wanted you to come in style - I suppose he thought you knew where to go, which you didn't, so he set you up for the Masters' and V.I.P's T.R. . . I'll have to have a word with him about that. Had us all on a wild goose chase, running round the S.O.V department, when you should have been in the V.R - "
"Excuse me?" Harry butted in, giving up trying to understand what she was babbling on about. "What are you talking about?"
The woman slapped her head. "Great! I suppose Godric didn't even tell Rose to explain that. Perfect. Look, your Guide will explain everything, but I have to get back to work. My own department's in a mess; oh-eight-one-four's going haywire."
She noticed Harry's blank stare. "Sorry, I don't usually babble like that. My nerve's are all worked up. This is the first time we've lost a student, and we've been here a long time. Okay, just keep going down this corridor, go down the way I came from, and you should see a gold door. Just go through, Godric should be there by now. Good luck; and I'll probably be seeing you again soon." she said, and reached out her hand to shake Harry's. As he took it, he noticed the mark on her hand; a silver wolf, head up and howling.
She let his hand go, and with a pop, she Disapparated away.
Harry paused for a moment. She didn't seem to want to hurt him; and she didn't seem as though she would be in league with Voldemort. . . giving up, he headed down the corridor, following her directions.
By the time Harry found the golden door, down the end of the corridor, he was thoroughly bored. It seemed the only thing that he'd actually accomplish would be getting more confused (if it was even possible) and walking over - wherever he was.
Just where was Sterling, anyway?
Giving a sigh, he looked at the golden door. It had been easy to find - all the others were white with a gold outline. This one, however, had a handle, unlike the others; a gold one. It was, in fact, the main part of the gold on the door. The only other gold was the outline of the door, and the sunken plaque, which read (in scarlet lettering),

S.V: Apprentice Room

Putting his wand away, Harry pushed the door open.

~ ~ ~

The inside of the 'Apprentice Room' was a pleasant change to the white, red and gold of the outside. It was a mixture of creams and blues, tastefully arranged. Smooth blue paint lay on the plain walls. The floor was cream carpet, and the ceiling was of cream as well; although it seemed only to be a front, like a coloured glass case.
Like the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the night sky was visible beyond - but not like Harry had seen through a telescope, or with his own eyes.
Instead, the 'night sky' was more like the far universe. A spinning, red and purple nebula was surrounded by a cluster of orange stars, just pinpricks in the distance. Swirls of cloudlike colours of pink, grey and purple rested in the black, and a planet or moon in the void drifted slowly by.
Harry finally tugged his gaze away, and at the rest of the room. A pair of soft blue couches, which could seat about ten people altogether, each with three cream cushions, sat in the centre of the room facing each other. They seemed to be the only furniture, and yet the light was still there, even with the lack of candles and bulbs.
On the couch facing away from Harry, a pair of women sat, not noticing Harry's arrival. One had long brown hair, and the other had short, black hair. Harry couldn't see much else about them.
On the other couch, a man who looked about in his late thirties sat. He had short brown hair, surprisingly messy, like Harry's. He was of slightly above average height and build, and was dressed in a robe - white, trimmed with gold - with a red cloak, which made Harry guess he'd found the decorator of the long corridors. The man had brown eyes, which were right now, gazing at Harry with amusement, and on his shoulder sat a black raven with a silver beak.
"Sterling?" Harry asked, confused, and the bird gave a small caw. At Harry's word, the two woman turned in their seats to look at him.
The brunette had a slim, small face, and blue eyes. She had fair skin, and was completely normal looking; perhaps twenty or twenty-one years old.
The black-haired woman had cold black eyes, and dark skin; she too was normal looking, but Harry felt a strange air of familiarity around her. She looked around the same age as the other woman, but Harry felt as though she was a lot older than she looked.
The brunette smiled at him. "Harry! You're finally here!"
The boy just felt more confused now. "Where?"
The man waved a hand, on which Harry saw the same mark that he himself had. "Harry, you must be pretty confused. Please, sit down, and we'll explain everything as best we can."
'That would be nice.' Harry thought, walking warily closer and sitting next to the blonde woman, glancing at Sterling.
"First of all," the man told him, "I have to apologise for setting you up in the Master's Transportation Room; I hadn't seen you in a while, so I got a bit carried away. . . I thought Rose would explain everything, and tell you where to go."
"I can't exactly do that, when I don't Apparate into the same room as him." the black-haired woman, apparently Rose, said coolly. Her voice was familiar as well, although Harry couldn't place her exactly.
"Well, yes, but that's all in the past now. Who found you, exactly?" the man asked thoughtfully.
Realising the question was directed at him, Harry answered as best he could. "A woman - I think she was an Elf. She had a ponytail and silver-streaked eyes." Harry said helplessly, remembering that she hadn't said her name. "She was saying that her department was in a mess. . ."
The man nodded. "That must have been Regina Jones. The Society of Aid's in a bit of a muddle with one of the Planes, and she's the Master of that section. One of the best Watchers, actually; I'll be sure to thank her.
"Anyway, perhaps I should explain where you are, first. Then your Guide will show you the details. First of all, I should explain the Planes." The man paused; then asked, "Have you heard of the theory of alternate Planes of existence? Different dimensions?"
Harry shook his head. "No." The man sighed. "That'll make things a bit harder then. Short version; the reality you live in, which your universe is based in, is just the reality that you perceive. It's one of many. Got that?"
Harry nodded.
"Good. Basically, there are an infinite number of other. . . dimensions, realities, universes, whatever you want to call them. Their technical names are Planes. These Planes can be slightly different from each other, or totally. For example, in your Plane, you were born on the thirty-first of July. In another, you were born on the thirtieth. In another, you weren't born at all, because Humans never existed; there were some other kinds of creatures.
"Now and then, some idiot with an ego problem decides that they want some kind of control over one or more of these planes, or wants to change the set future somehow. They might want to cross from one Plane to another. With an infinite number of Planes, this problem popped up more often then you'd think." he explained, and sat a little straighter. "Because of this, about ten million years ago, things were starting to go wrong. Really wrong. Absolute chaos. So, a race called the Liann, who had the power to cross Planes - and actually exist in all of them at the same time - decided to set up an organisation to stop these people, creatures, whatever.
"They called it DEUS. In their language, it meant 'Guardians'. Now, occasionally, people would be born with with powers. The interesting thing about them, was that only their Planes' version of them had the power; in other Planes, the alternate version of themselves would never have it. Anyway, these people had all kind of powers; they could be Elementals, Shapeshifters, Necro-abled, Telepaths; all kinds.
"These people all had two things in common, however. First was that they'd only start gaining their powers after they had reached their version of a fifteen year old Human."
"I thought there were other types of creatures?" Harry interrupted. The man nodded. "I meant in mental age, in Human time. Of course, some people lived longer or shorter than Humans. So, when they reached their own version of a certain age - which, in Human age would be fifteen - they would start to become stronger. Faster at learning things, more powerful; that sort of thing. Understanding everything so far?"
Harry agreed, the women looking bored.
"The second thing in common, was that everyone in every Plane had a perfect form to become an Animagus, whether they were or not, even Muggles. When the unique people reached their fifteenth birthday, and started gaining their powers, if they found their perfect form somehow; if they met it, or it came to them, they dreamt it - anything like that - then a mark of their perfect form would appear on their palm, or, if they didn't have a palm, somewhere on their bodies.
"The Liann recruited those with powers into DEUS, to help. Since there were so many different types of powers, sections were made, called Societies. For example, there's the Society of Aid, which Regina works in. In that section, they have Watchers; they're some of the ones who can feel how history is meant to progress, so that everyone can work to make sure that it happens that way.
"Each Society has a Master and an apprentice room. The Master is the leader of the Society; the best member. A new one's only chosen when the old one dies or wants to leave. The recruiting room is after people get their invitation to join. On an assigned date, once a year, the person comes to the apprentice room - for your Society, it's the Vocare Room - via their usual method of transportation. It might be Apparating, Teleporting, Floo Powder, the Möbius Continuum; any way.
"In the apprentice room, the person gets their Guide, which is someone who shows them around, answers questions; that sort of thing. I think that's about it." he finished, sitting back in the couch with a smile. "Rain; she's the brunette; is your Guide. Any more quick questions?"
"Yeah," Harry said, trying to swallow all the information that had just been thrown at him, and trying to sort it out in his head. "Who are you, and why was Sterling there? What do you want with me, and why did you say before that it had been a long time since you saw me? Is DEUS basically like the Order of the Phoenix, or Purity? Where are my friends?"
"One at a time!" the man said hastily, before Harry could ask anymore, holding up his hand, which gave Harry another good view of the mark. "What we want with you is quite simple. You're one of the people I was talking about; those with power. About your friends, they too, both have power. Haven't you or they noticed their powers increasing over the past weeks or so since your birthdays?
"Sterling; that's tricky to answer. You see, Sterling is nothing more than a Aldor Raven. A magical bird, more intelligent than most. Probably about the same intelligence as a Phoenix. However, I knew that if you still weren't fifteen and hadn't gained your powers, as well as the fact that your house was attacked, then you were in a lot of danger.
"So, I took a small jewel, and inserted it into Sterling's forehead with magic. I come from the same Plane as you, and was a wizard there before I knew of my powers, so it was easy. I then used the jewel as a focus, to concentrate my Summoning on.
"My power, you see, is Summoning. The ability to call things, whether it's a bolt of lightning, or a creature to serve you.
"What I did is Summon a creature that had the ability to merge with something, and become part of it. Because I had Summoned it, the creature obeyed me, and I told it to merge with the jewel. Because the jewel was now a part of Sterling, the creature could control her. I sent her to you, with orders to protect you; of course, I knew you wouldn't just take in an unknown creature sent from nobody, so I sent a note, written in the handwriting of someone you trust."
"Dumbledore?" Harry asked in surprise, and the man nodded.
"Dumbledore. I knew you'd accept a guardian from him, so I made it look as though he'd sent her to you. Rose; the name of the creature I'd Summoned, protected you, not only from physical danger, but also from your nightmares. Voldemort had cast a spell which allowed your ghost-form - the form you become when you fell asleep, and could see Voldemort - to be able to be seen, and hurt.
"Because of this danger to you, Rose stopped your dreams as soon as she saw you were being hurt by them. I suppose you realised that your dreams ceased after you got her?"
Harry stared. "Yeah, but I thought it was just. . ."
"Just a coincidence? No, it wasn't.
"After protecting you, Rose's job was to make sure you got to the Society of the Vocarine. Obviously, you'd be a lot more careful than most people, what with your past, so someone you trusted had to lead you there.
"The Order of the Phoenix and the Order of Purity are both part of DEUS. The leaders of DEUS, the most powerful of us all, are called The Five, and one of these is a man called Erowin. About eight hundred years ago, Dark Wizards held a lot of power, so he created an organisation to stop them, called the Order of Purity.
"Eventually, so many people were joining, he made a sub-section called the Order of the Phoenix, comprising the ten most powerful Wizards and Witches in the Order of the Phoenix. These ten get their orders from DEUS, although they don't know it."
The man waited for Harry's approval to go on. "The reason I said I saw you before, is because I have. I saw you about fourteen years ago, when your father brought you here, one day."
Harry sat up straighter, and looked at the man in shock. "My father? Why was he here?"
"Because he too, had a power. It usually runs in families; something genetic. In fact, the power has been in your family for the past five hundred and two generations, starting from me.
"Godric Gryffindor."

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Well, not much plot this chapter, but I needed to put in a lot of introductions and information. My hand aches now, so I hope you're glad.
E-mail ryshora@hotmail.com, for comments, queries, or to ask me to give the short version of everything.
No-one's even asked about the glow that was surrounding the ring last chapter. *Sigh*.
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