Chapter Seventeen: Nobility

"And you are?" The boy asked when he saw that Ernie was awake.

"Andrew," Owen said quickly, "This is my cousin Ernest. He came last night to pay me a surprise visit. He is from New England."

Andrew snorted. "What game are you playing at? I would wager my father's estates that this boy lives not ten miles from here."

"Andrew?"

Andrew gave a look of disgust. "Fine. He is your cousin from New England. What title does he have, in case anyone should ask?"

"Baron?"

"If he is your cousin, you had better make him Viscount. Someplace obscure, in case someone checks."

"May I ask a question?" Ernie said.

"You were supposed to be a mute," Owen reminded him.

"Sorry, I've never been good at muting."

The fourth boy in the room stirred. "Owen? Andrew, what is going on? Who is the lacker in Robert's bed?"

"He is not a lacker," Andrew said. "He is Owen's cousin. From New England."

"Right." The boy rolled over and covered his head with his pillow.

"Viscount," Owen reminded Andrew.

"Chicago," Andrew said, pronouncing it Chick' - a(soft) - go. "It is a trading center near the end of one of the Finger Lakes. But keep him away from Master Barstel. He gave us that lesson in Geography only last week."

"I was there," Owen reminded him, and Andrew grinned.

"Are you ready, Ernest?"

"For what?"

"A tour of the school."

"Won't I be recognized?"

"If you talk like that you will," Andrew chided. "Talk slightly slower and do not contract your words." He paused. "Owen, is this worth it?"

Owen smiled. "He was under guard from someone at the Institute. They left him alone."

"Is he in trouble?"

"Not any more. The journeyman who let him get away is in trouble. I am merely testing the skills of the local security force at King's College."

"Does he have proper clothes?"

"He is almost your size," Owen countered.

"Stand up," Andrew said, and Ernie climbed out of bed. "You are a bit shorter. Some of my First of Year clothes should do. I have outgrown them, and mother told me to pass them on." He pulled out a small trunk from under his bed, and handed Ernie the key. Andrew then picked up a small bundle of his own clothes lying on a chair. "I will be getting cleaned and dressed if you need me."


Ernie was dressed in a variation of the attire that Robert wore when he returned to Hogwarts, except that his suit was blue velvet with what seemed to be standard laced collar and cuffs.

"The dining hall is this way," Owen told Ernie as they walked out of the dormitory building.

Ernie was amazed. "What is all of this?"

Owen stopped and pointed to a large three-story building on the far side of the field. "That is the Royal Thaumaturgical Institute. It is the greatest scientific research group in the world. They find out new things about magic every day. They are also supposed to do a lot of secret work for the Navy and the Army."

"That's, um, That is the building I came out of. It was dark, of course."

Owen nodded. "Things do look different at night." He pointed to the next building to the right. "That is the main building of the School of Sorcery. There are two others. That one to the right, and the one behind it. You can just make out the tip of the rear building. After that, we have the theological college of Saint Cathel which you can not see from here." Owen was next pointing to the large church that sat some hundred yards beyond the dorm building they had exited. "The college is on the other side of Saint Cathel's Cathedral. And this complex, with seven buildings is Saint Cathel's Academy."

Ernie was amazed. "This place is huge."

"And you have only seen half of it. But we should get something to eat before we do anything else."

Ernie wasn't sure of what to expect but breakfast was not the way he thought it would be. Everyone sat at tables of four or six, and servers brought the food. Each server gave a portion of what they had unless the student declined. Ernie was even asked how he liked his eggs.

Conversation was also easy. Anyone who asked about New England was told there were more trees, but most students said nothing, or pointed out their favorite places in the school for Ernie to visit. No one thought a surprise visitor unusual.

After breakfast, Owen gave a tour of the Academy, explaining the central purpose of each of the buildings. As they entered another building, Ernie couldn't help but comment. "I thought I would stand out like a sore thumb, but I seem to fit in."

"It is simple," Owen explained. "You have a name and a place and a reason for being here, and no one knows why it should be otherwise. That is why you fit in. You should enjoy this class, by the way. It is Modern History."

"Class? But it's Saturday."

"Yes. 'IT IS' Saturday. We have History. Then we will change for Athletics."

"In my . . ." Ernie paused as Owen gave him a sharp look. "In my SCHOOL we have Saturdays free."

"Here it is a half day." Owen added with a grin, "although we may take more time with athletics than we need to."

They sat down in the classroom, and the teacher called the role. He then pointed to Ernie and demanded he announce himself. Owen reminded him to give the full title as rehearsed. Ernie stood up and cleared his throat.

"With your pardon, Professor." He bowed slightly. "I am Lord Ernest Macmillan, heir to the Viscount of Chicago in New England. I am here to visit with my cousin, Owen TyrConnell." He pointed with his hand to Owen.

"You are welcome to my class, young man. And I compliment you on your manners. I am grateful they teach respect in New England. It was not what I expected."

Ernie was confused as everyone laughed politely at him. It was obviously a small joke aimed at New England and at him but now Ernie was on the spot. He was expected to say something. He tried for politeness.

"Thank you, Professor," Ernie said slowly, "and while I am here I will try to act as respectfully as my cousin does."

This time the entire class, including Owen and the teacher, roared with laughter. Several students even applauded Ernie, but the boy from Hufflepuff had no idea why his statement caused such an uproar.

As everyone calmed down, The teacher told Ernie to sit, adding that, "I am glad to see the TyrConnell wit has not been diluted by time or distance. You are a welcome addition to this class, Lord Ernest."


Owen and Ernie were back in the dorm changing for the next class. Ernie was surprised to find himself wearing white shorts and a white cotton shirt with leggings and leather footwear that was a kind of cross between a sneaker and a boot.

Owen was giving him a quick rundown of what was expected on the field. "Remember, we are at school. Do not use anyone's title, even if you know it. But once class ends, remember who is a Lord and who is a Sir. And all of the help are called Goodman or Goodwoman."

"It sounds easy enough, but what will we be doing for athletics?"

Owen smiled. "Hopefully football. I assume you do not know the game."

Ernie grinned. He had always been fast on his feet but he had no knack for flying. That was why he would join his cousin, whose mother was muggle born, when he went to play sports. "You can only use feet and head?"

"That is it," Owen said, grateful for the coincidence of worlds. He explained the rules in case there were differences as they walked out to the field, but Ernie stopped him at one point.

"Owen, I wanted to tell you that I, uh, I AM having a great time, but I wanted to know why. Why are you doing this for me?"

"I wanted to know who you were," Owen said, seriously. "I wanted to know the type of person that Robert would choose as a friend. And, after our conversation last night, I owed you the chance to learn firsthand about this world." He paused. "Ernest, Robert made a good choice, in my humble opinion."

"About the journeyman?"

Owen's grin returned. "I have a reputation for testing the rules, although I will rarely break them. The Journeyman Sorcerer breached security by leaving you unattended, a fact you proved by your rash statements to me. That is why I did not tell anyone in authority that you were with me. I am curious how long they will take."

"But the journeyman will get into trouble."

"He will survive, and when the truth comes out, he will understand how fortunate he was that his error was not more serious."

Ernie nodded, and decided that he was going to enjoy himself as much as possible.


Captain Sir Mortimer Sheffield was not happy to be sitting across from His Majesty. He was only the messenger in this case but it was still an unpleasant circumstance. He handed over the report and explained the basics as the King handed the papers to Lord Bontriomphe. Lord Bontriomphe was there to act as witness to His Majesty and advisor as need be. The two reasons he was chosen were his eidetic memory, and his relationship to the Somerset children.

Captain Sheffield explained the substance of the problem facing them. "He is a wizard born child in their world. He was brought into our world because of the emergency resulting from the actions of Lord Robert de Somerset and his brother. His physical condition was such that it was decided to let him rest before he returned. Apparently he was used as a courier repeated times before delivering his final message. Professor Dumbledore noted that the boy is quick and sure-footed, making him useful in this chore."

His Majesty was not amused. "Her Highness is in Dover with the Prince of Britain and the Duke of Lancaster, enjoying the sunshine, and We are here because of this twelve-year-old boy. This matter is supposed to be kept as secret as possible. If that boy has told anyone about his origins, the damage will be irreparable. Even now, Our agents tell us that the Poles are beginning to doubt the stories from their own spies. We want them to keep doubting. Do everything necessary to find the boy."

"Excuse me, your Majesty." Lord Bontriomphe had looked through the report. "Captain, your report tells us that the Security Staff at King's College did a complete accounting of everyone who was supposed to be on the campus, including bed checks at the Academy?"

"That is correct."

"How many beds were empty?"

"Two, but both boys were in the Hospital ward."

"Only two?"

His Majesty smiled. "Lord Bontriomphe, do you know something?"

"Your Majesty, when Lord Robert returned to us, Saint Cathel's Academy restored his bed to his room, under the assumption that he would be returning to the school. If his bed is still there, it should have been empty."

Captain Sheffield nodded thoughtfully. "If memory serves me correctly, Your Majesty, O'Connell's heir is one of Lord Robert Somerset's former roommates. He is notorious for finding, and exploiting, errors and faults of operation. On his behalf I should note that he does not, usually, do this for personal gain, but to enhance his reputation with his father. If he is the one responsible, we may only need add him to our conspiracy."

The Lord Seneschal, who had stayed in the background until this moment, chose to make his opinion known. "Your Majesty, this boy does have certain qualifications that make him most appropriate to our plans, if the captain's suspicions are correct."

His Majesty nodded. "IF is the key word in this case. If O'Connell's heir is involved, and if it is as you say, bring both of them to Us. It is time to set the next phase of Our plan into motion."

"With your permission, Your Majesty. I would like to take care of this matter personally as I do know by sight the boy in question."

"Do so, and report back to Us as soon as practicable, regardless of which side of the coin is facing up."

His August Majesty, John IV Plantagenet, rose from his chair and left the room.


Harry woke up late in the day, as did almost everyone else. The midnight feast lasted well until dawn.

He remembered that Hermione and Colin were already in the hall when he entered. Robert was at the Hufflepuff table with Justin Finch-Fetchley. Everything seemed almost normal. Hagrid was still missing but he would be back shortly. Dumbledore had informed the Minister that Hagrid's diary was a forgery, and revealed the truth of the matter, to a degree. Harry's only regret was that his uniform was ruined. He had wanted to see Hermione's reaction.

Colin Creevey was as quiet as he was after Robert first appeared, but Harry was too busy to notice for quite a while. When he looked, Robert was talking to him, and Colin was laughing. That was when Harry remembered. Colin did not know, either. He looked for Hermione and she was talking to Ron. When she caught his eye, she stood up and curtsied. Harry laughed, then turned back to Cedric Diggory who was trying to tell him something about Ernie MacMillan.

That was last night, or early this morning. Harry dragged himself out of bed and opened his trunk, pulling out his uniform. Then he stopped. His uniforms were in his trunk. His Naval Uniforms. Hermione would be surprised after all. He dressed quickly and went down to the common room which was nearly empty, except for Colin sitting by the fireplace. Harry hesitated but Colin saw him and waved him over.

With a feeling of Deja Vu, Harry walked over and sat down next to the first year. "I did not, um, didn't get a chance to talk to you last night."

"I know," Colin said. "I had a lot to think about. I'm not sure I understand it all. Is that a real uniform?"

Harry nodded. "A new life for a new world."

Colin looked at the flames in the fireplace. "You're leaving. You're going to go back with Robert and stay there. I liked you better as Harry and Charlie."

"Yeah, so did I." Harry and Charlie were a pair of twins who were building something together. But now they were Robert and Henry, two brothers 'with new names for new lives'.

"It was easy," Harry said suddenly.

"What was easy?"

"I killed someone yesterday."

"Ron told me. He was coming back to see if he could help. He saw the basilisk die and, you know, the rest of it. That guy wasn't real. You didn't kill a real person."

Harry gave Colin a grim look. "He was not human but he was real, and I killed him. I did it deliberately. I knew what I was going to do, and I did it exactly as I intended. And when it was over, I felt nothing. I killed him because it was what I had to do."

Colin nodded. He knew there was nothing to say. For a brief time they had been friends, because Colin had changed. Now Harry had changed and that friendship was something in the past. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"What's it like to grow up?"

"Colin, I'm only twelve."

"Last September, I was walking out of the common room with you, and my life change. Then I had six months of my life taken away. The world went on without me." A tear rolled down Colin's cheek. "The world changed on me. And everyone is telling me to grow up."

"Don't," Harry said. "Don't ever grow up. The first thing you lose is your immortality. In exchange you get the knowledge that nothing lasts forever."

"You're quoting someone."

Harry pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Colin. "The Captain said that to me one day when we were sailing back to port. He was hoping he wasn't too late. He was."

He was too late the moment the body of the Brigantine captain hit the water.

Colin nodded but he couldn't think of anything to say. Harry's cryptic words described what he was feeling. Perhaps Colin Creevey was the one who had changed again, but Harry seemed like Harry one more. They were still friends but they would not laugh as easily as they once did.

"Harry, did you hear about Ernie MacMillan?"

"Cedric Diggory was trying to tell me last night, but I could not follow him."

Colin smiled. Harry was talking more like Robert. "Robert told me that Ernie actually went to the other world."

Harry looked surprised. "Why?"

"To save time. He had to tell Dumbledore about the Chamber."

Harry nodded. "I did not see him last night. Did he say how Ernie liked it?"

Colin couldn't help but smile. "Ernie hasn't come back yet."

"WHAT?"

"He never came back with Dumbledore. Rumor has it that they lost him."

"Maybe he'll show up with a twin brother," Harry suggested.

"It's happened before," Colin said, and they both laughed.


The athletic coach eyed Ernie then waved for him to stay with Owen. He sorted everyone into two teams, and began the warm up lessons. Owen was right. It would be football practice. It was strange, but Ernie realized he was having the time of his life. He was having a vacation from himself.

They had warmup, then practiced kicking and other skills for most of an hour. As the class neared the end, two of the boys began talking. Owen grabbed Ernie's arm and pulled him toward the two and they stood behind one of the boys. Ernie wasn't sure but he thought it might be the other boy from the dorm room. Andrew joined them as did a few others. In a short time, two teams were ready and they lined up on the field. The instructor pulled out a whistle, and the game began.

It went badly. Ernie, because of his speed, was playing forward, but he was either out of practice or the other side was very good. They were down by three goals when the whistle blew, announcing the end of the first forty. Ernie expressed his doubts to Owen, but was told not to worry. It was bad day for all of them. The remark was echoed by several other players. The next forty minutes were stronger play, and neither team was scoring. Ernie accepted that they were going to lose but hated the fact that they had nothing to show, a sentiment also echoed by the other players.

It was then that Ernie saw a chance, The ball was passed badly to Ernie's opposite number after it was intercepted. As the other boy tried to take control of the ball, Ernie rushed at him and dropped, kicking the ball though the other's legs, right to where one of his own teammates was waiting. He limped slightly as he stood up but he had the assist.

"How is your leg?" Owen asked as they walked off the field well after the end of the class.

"It will hurt tomorrow, but I will live."

Owen nodded. "It was a good move. You helped us save face."

"I only wish that someone I knew could have seen it." Ernie looked up to see an Armsman walking toward them. "Um, Owen, someone I know did see it."

Captain Sheffield walked up to the two boys. "Ernie, how nice to see you again. That was a good move, near the end. Did you enjoy yourself?" He bent his face down until it was an inch away from Ernie's. "Who knows?" he whispered.

Ernie whispered back, "Only Owen. He told me I should not tell anyone."

Captain Sheffield became overly friendly. "It is time to take you home, young man. Perhaps your friend would like to join us."

"I need to change," Ernie said.

"No, you do not," Sheffield hissed softly.

In as friendly a manner as possible, The Captain led the two boys from the field to a waiting coach.


Ernie was ushered into a conference room in whatever government building he was taken to, where he waited with everyone else. Captain Sheffield introduced them to Lord Bontriomphe, the other person in the room. Then they turned as the far door opened. A tall blond man walked in, dressed in the fanciest uniform Ernie had ever seen. He was followed by another man who was very well dressed and carrying a sword.

Ernie stared, oblivious to the noise around him, completely unsure of what to do. This was clearly the man in charge and he did not look happy.

"So this is the boy who has been causing Us such problems."

"I can explain, Sir," Ernie said, almost shouting as he rushed the words out. "I fell asleep and Owen found me and took me to a bed and I slept then we couldn't find . . ."

The tall man stopped Ernie from talking by putting his hand over the boy's mouth. "That is better. We assume you do not know who We are."

Ernie shook his head no. "Should I have said My Lord, uh, My Lord?"

"It would have helped. Captain, from the way he is dressed, was he playing football? Did he win?"

"It was a very poor first forty, Your Majesty, but he made an excellent assist near the end of the second forty."

Ernie's eyes went wide when he heard the words, Your Majesty. He did not know why but he now knew who the man was. "Oh, God. I'm dead."

"NOT YET. You are dead when We say you are dead." His Majesty smiled. "As it is, you have proven yourself useful to Us." He turned his head. "Owen. There is no reason to frown. We know the why and wherefore of what you did. We thank you."

"Yes, Your Majesty," a shaky voice said.

His Majesty turned back to Ernie. "Do you know what you are supposed to do when We walk into a room?"

"Um, Should I . . . Am I supposed to kneel or something."

"Under these circumstances, yes." Ernie quickly got down on his knees. "On one knee." His Majesty was grinning as he saw Owen give a confused look, and turned to the man behind him. "Do you have the list?"

The man, the Lord Seneschal, handed a folded sheet to His Majesty. His Majesty pointed to a name on the sheet of paper. The Lord Seneschal frowned. "Are you certain of this, Your Majesty?"

"It is a formality, My Lord Seneschal, and this lad is in the right place at the right time. May We have Our sword?"

His Majesty turned to Ernie, who was staring at floor, afraid to look up. "Do you accept Us as your judge in this matter?"

Ernie nodded.

"You must answer, yes or no."

"Yes," Ernie said, consigned to his fate. Then he quickly added, "Your Majesty."

"Goodman Ernest MacMillan. First I must inform you that you are not in ill favor with Us. It has come to Our attention that, because of quick action on your part, two of Our subjects were saved from certain death. This gains from Us Our thanks as both of these boys are dear to Us. It has also been made clear to Us that, when faced with discovery, you acted with diligence, if not good sense, in keeping your origins a secret. This pleases Us as well. In gratitude We choose to make you one of Our own, to have a rightful place in this world should you chose." The sword was tapped once on each shoulder then on Ernie's head. "Rise and stand among your equals, Ernest, Baron MacMillan of MontClaire."

His Majesty handed the sword back to the Lord Seneschal, and waited for Ernie to rise. The fear was still there but confusion was taking its place. "We are in military dress, Lord Ernest. You need only bow when we enter or leave. Otherwise you will genuflect. Ignorance once is amusing. Ignorance twice is an insult."

Ernie nodded and bowed as instructed, until he heard the door close. He was alone in the room with Owen and Captain Sheffield. He asked the only question that he could think of.

"What just happened?"

Captain Sheffield smiled. "You have been made a peer of the realm, My Lord."

"And I, Captain?" Owen asked.

"Owen TyrConnell, you have been added to the conspiracy concerning the other world, the key point of which is to limit the knowledge that we have made contact with this world, a world which appears to be more advanced in scientific research than we are. This world is also willing to share their knowledge with us. You are now part of that secret, and if you reveal that fact to anyone it will be considered an act of treason. Do you understand?"

"I do, Captain. Please know that I have already sworn an oath not to reveal this secret. It was safe from the very moment I heard of it."

"That's true, Captain," Ernie added. "I thought he already knew when I told him where I came from. He corrected me at once."

"And the rest of it was for fun, My Lord?"

Owen smirked as he answered for Ernie. "In part, Captain. Lord Ernest told me about his world. I tried to show him what our world was like." Owen became serious. "Captain Sheffield, I must report that the Journeyman Sorcerer responsible for him left him unprotected. It is my hope that he will not forget his responsibilities again."

"Duly noted," Captain Sheffield said. "We will inform the proper authority of your complaint." He turned to Ernie. "My Lord, you looked comfortable when you were on the playing field. Did you feel like you belonged?"

Ernie nodded. "I did, Captain."

"I can not tell you the why of what happened today except that you made a strong impression upon His Majesty. And now, My Lord, it is time to take you home."

Ernie nodded as he was led back to the waiting coach. On the way back to Kings College he thought to ask. "Where is MontClaire?"

Captain Sheffield laughed. "MontClaire is not anywhere, My Lord. It was a peninsula of land that fell into the sea centuries ago."

"Then why am I a Baron of, of nothing?"

Owen looked at Captain Sheffield, then grinned. "So that you can be a Baron. You said you were a friend of Lord Robert. If he were here, you would have to bow to him, and . . . My Lord Baron, I think I understand the why of this. Captain, Is Lord Robert returning to the school."

"Perhaps, but he will be returning for the summer months. It has not been decided."

Owen nodded to Ernie. "Do you see? If he comes, he would surely invite his friends, if he could."

Ernie smiled at the thought. He also smiled at the idea of visiting the school again. Perhaps the next time they will win the match.


Ernie said his goodbyes to Owen, and to Andrew, who made him a present of his old clothes, although they were far from old. Ernie thanked him for helping out a poor relative. Andrew laughed and said they were hand-me-downs to him. He himself was a poor younger brother.

At Owen's suggestion, Ernie changed back into the blue velvet suit for his return home. It saved the trouble of revealing his own clothes and their different style. Plus, Owen noted, it always payed to impress people. They bade him farewell and Captain Sheffield led him away as politely as he could.

After he left, Andrew asked. "Who is he, really?"

Owen laughed. "He is the Baron of MontClaire. Do you believe that?"

"And how did he get here?"

"He came to visit friends of the family and became lost."

"Lost?"

"It is useful on occasion. Becoming lost."

Andrew nodded. "Do you think he will return? We could use a good forward."


"Your Majesty," the Lord Seneschal said. "The Captain has delivered his report. The boy is being returned to his own world. He seemed to accept the reasoning that the Captain hinted at. And your judgement was right about TyrConnell's heir. He even made a formal complaint."

"We have been very lucky this day, My Lord," His Majesty said, "and now we must decide what to do about the rest of the cast of characters we are dealing with. Dumbledore has been most helpful in supplying Us with the information we need."

"The entire matter was explained to him, Your Majesty. He agrees with our course completely. He sees this, rightly I think, as a mutual effort. He also loves the boy, Lord Henry, and will do everything he can for him."

"Do you think we can get the boy to give up magic and stay with us?"

"Your Majesty, if the right person would ask him, Lord Henry would say yes." The Lord Seneschal paused. "I have talked with the Marquis of London. I think Lord Henry has already said yes. The Captain's report says that when he last saw the boy, he was still in uniform."

His Majesty laughed. "I do love irony, William. We have what we want from the boy, but now we must tell him he has to stay at his school, for at least one more year."

"John, Is this because of the prophecy that Professor Dumbledore spoke of?"

"It is. We do not know the strength of prophecies in their world. If we brought the boy here to stay, that could lead his enemy to find a way to cross the planes and create havoc on myriad worlds. We must leave Lord Henry at the school until we have a chance to resolve this matter."

"There is no need to rush," the Lord Seneschal added. "Our research will take years to complete as it is."

"Then you do understand Our motives, My Lord."

The Lord Seneschal bowed as he was dismissed.


Professor Quirrell smiled as the young boy was escorted into his office. "I see you've changed your hat for a headdress, Ernie Macmillan."

Ernie was surprised by the statement but understood it was a reference to his clothes, then his eyes lit up. "Do you mean I've gone native, Professor?"

Quirrell laughed. "I think I do. I must ask how you did it. Anyone would take you for a lordling dressed like that." He paused and asked facetiously, "You are not a thief, are you? Is that why you are with the Armsmen?"

Captain Sheffield gave Ernie a polite cuff on the back of the head. "Go ahead. Do it."

Ernie looked at the Captain and nodded, then he turned back to Professor Quirrell. "Professor, I do humbly apologize for the inconvenience I have caused the Institute by my untoward disappearance."

"Keep going." There was amusement in the Captain's voice.

"I ask you to forgive me," Ernie paused to look at the Captain, who nodded, "and I will willingly submit to any punishment you may set."

Professor Quirrell smirked. "I am two pounds richer because of you, dear boy. I have no reason to punish you."

Ernie said the only thing he could think of.

"HUH?"

"The match," Professor Quirrell said, pointing out the window. "Your play was pitiful for the first twenty minutes, but your teammates made every effort to hide the fact by playing just as badly. I had the pleasure of watching the match through one of the scopes and I must tell you, it was a terrible thing to watch." He paused to laugh as Ernie blushed. Then he leaned forward as though to conspire. "I saw it though. I saw your team start to clique, and I told Professor Gregory that if they were to score you would surely be involved. You are fast on your feet." He put his hands up with an air of resignation. "The pity is that poor Professor Gregory doubted me, and is now poorer Professor Gregory because of it."

"Then you're not mad at me?" Ernie asked in relief.

"NO. I am mad at that journeyman for not taking his task more seriously. Captain Sheffield took the liberty to explain the situation to me and tell me where you were before he went out to fetch you."

Ernie stared in surprise. These people had known exactly what happened to him. Professor Quirrell had just revealed that Captain Sheffield had known where he was before the match even began. He turned to the Captain with a questioning look and received a smile in response. He asked the question anyway. "Why did you let me play?"

"I was curious, My Lord, what type of person you were. Anyone who was curious learned a lot from you by watching you play." The Captain smiled again, leaving Ernie to wonder what the Captain had seen in him.

"My Lord?" Quirrell asked.

Ernie looked to the Captain but the Captain remained closemouthed. He continued to smile but refused to say anything. Ernie turned around, knowing it was up to him to explain.

"Professor, I was . . ." He paused, trying to think of what to say and how to say it. "It seems . . . .Professor, how do I refer to the King?"

"In what context?"

"Well . . . He made me a Baron."

Quirrell's eyes lit up in surprise and humor. "In that case you would refer to him as His August Majesty. If he honored a friend of yours, you would say His Most Nobel Majesty. Would you care to try?"

Ernie nodded. "I think I can do it. His August Majesty saw fit to make me . . ."

"Elevate me," Captain Sheffield coached.

" . . . to elevate me to, um, Captain?"

"To elevate me to the peerage by appointing me."

Ernie smiled. "His August Majesty has seen fit to elevate me to the peerage by appointing me Baron of MontClaire, in honor of duties I have performed in his service."

"Well done," Professor Quirrell shouted as he applauded and Captain Sheffield grabbed Ernie's shoulders to give him a friendly shake.

"That was well said, My Lord. And well thought out," the Captain told him. "You even thought to ask, rather than guess how to make your announcement. You will make a good Baron with training."

"Perhaps I should put in a word to Saint Cathel's, My Lord." Professor Quirrell offered.

Ernie smiled at the offer but was assured it could be made real, should he ever choose. Then the Professor mentioned the need to return to his own world and Ernie faltered. He remembered the teachers deliberately closing the doors to the Great Hall as they had done during every meal since the last attack, and then the reaction that Robert and Harry received when they entered. He asked if he could return just after the evening meal began.

The journeyman, David, was called over and asked to give Ernie a tour of the Institute until it was time to leave. He was also given the admonishment not to leave or lose his charge again. David grinned his embarrassment and led the boy away to explain the various scientific experiments.

"Did I play my part well, Captain? The Baronage was a complete surprise, but I see its purpose."

"A curious boy," the Captain said. "I watched him as he played and I could see the way his mind worked. He was grateful to play, then upset that he could not do his part. And he was happy to be of help as he caught his footing."

Professor Quirrell nodded. "The school he attends has four houses. As you know, he is in the house called Hufflepuff after one of the four founders of the school. Hufflepuffs are generally described as. . . how did that poem go?. . . patient, just and loyal, unafraid of toil."

"Noble virtues," the Captain agreed. "Lord Robert is in that house"

"He and Lord Ernest are 'best mates'. That is why I agreed to his request. He has to explain himself. Why not do it all at once. And he has the perfect excuse to show off. May I ask, do you know of MontClaire? I am not familiar with it."

"I was ordered to tell him it was a peninsula which fell into the sea ages ago, that it was a title of courtesy. We will let Lord Robert de Somerset correct him." At the Professor's confused look, the Captain shrugged his shoulders. "His Majesty will have his jest."


Ron was sitting with Susan at the Hufflepuff table. While they were waiting to eat, he decided to ask Cedric firsthand about what happened to Professor Lockhart. Cedric was just mentioning Azkaban when the hall went quiet. Susan looked up and said, "Merlin's Beard! Ernie's back."

Someone at the Slytherin table was heard to mutter, "not another one."

Ernie walked slowly to his table, enjoying the surprise he had caused, knowing that no one knew what to make of him. His grin grew as he saw Harry wearing his uniform. When their eyes met, he made it a point to salute the Gryffindor. Then he turned to sit down next to Robert who had as big a grin and was eager to ask for an explanation.

"MISTER MACMILLAN." His name was said in an overly loud voice by the headmaster, who was now standing. "You are late. May I ask why?"

Ernie looked up and noticed the priest, Father Maurice, was trying to stifle a laugh. It was obvious that the teachers, at the least, knew what had happened. Owen's words came to mind at that point: 'you will enjoy this'.

"With all due respect, Professor," Ernie called out as loudly as he could, "I have not yet foresworn my titles. I must ask that you refer to me properly"

"We've lost the house cup for sure," Susan muttered. "He'll take away ten thousand points because of that."

Dumbledore smiled. "My apologies, Lord MontClaire. Will you foreswear your titles now?"

Ernie couldn't help but laugh. Everyone he could see was looking at him with questions in their eyes. "I foreswear, Professor."

"Thank you. MISTER MACMILLAN. You are late."

"I'm, uh, I am sorry, Sir. I was delayed."

"And Hufflepuff will lose ten points because of that delay. You may sit down."

Robert made room for Ernie and immediately asked his question. "Why are you a Lord?"

"It is an amusing story," Ernie said. "Oh, Owen said to say hello."

Robert stared at him, openmouthed. If Ernie had expected the reaction, it would have been his best joke of the night.


"MontClaire? Are you sure?" Robert asked, as they sat in the common room. He had gone to his trunk to get a book and returned with it to sit at the table with Ernie. Several others kept quiet as they listened in.

Ernie frowned at the way Robert asked the question. "Captain Sheffield said it was some piece of land that fell into the ocean ages ago. It's an honorary title."

"Why would he tell you that? It makes no sense."

"He didn't actually say, but I had the impression that it was so you could bring your friends to visit, when you go home."

Robert patted the book in front of him. "This is the book of lineage, revised as of last June. It lists all titles and who holds them as well as the known heirs. There is also a listing of vacant titles. Ernie, there are a number of courtesy titles around. Before I was declared dead, I was the Earl of Cahill. The Cahill district, west of London was incorporated into the Marquisate that my bother Roger now holds. For all practical purposes, Cahill does not exist. My father gave me the title as a courtesy. It was his way of saying that I would be his heir. Do you follow what I am saying?"

"Yeah, but that's exactly what my title is."

"That can not be, Ernie. Under the Rules of Title and Nobility as revised in 1728, no lord may hold more than one active fief, but they were to be dispersed generationally. Some lords at the time had as many as thirty titles. The record was thirty-seven. Each Lord would give a title to each of his children, the eldest son receiving the excess to distribute in turn to his children. On the other hand, there were also numerous inactive fiefs, such as the Earldom of Cahill. The Marquis of London may continue to hold that title, because it signifies nothing. But if the line should be broken, and the Marquisate return to the King, all miscellaneous titles are automatically extinguished. Do you understand that?"

Ernie was perplexed. "Does that mean I'm not really a Baron, or," his eyes took on a glow, "or that I am a real Baron?"

Robert smiled. "You are a Baron. I have no idea why you were made one, unless it was a diplomatic courtesy, but it is a real title." Robert opened the book and inspected the index. He shuffled through the book until he came to the appropriate page and began to look for the name of MontClaire. He thumped the book with his hand. "There it is."

"And."

"The Barony of MontClaire is the northeastern part of the Lesser Gloucester Island."

"And where is that?"

"New England, of course. South of the mouth of the Gateway River, which leads to the Finger Lakes."

"I know that New England is North America but . . ." Ernie shrugged his shoulders.

Robert turned to the back of the book, which held a foldout map of the world, and he pointed out Prince Edward Island. Anthony Goldstein smiled, noting that the Gateway River was the Saint Lawrence Seaway and the Finger Lakes were the Great Lakes. He had to ask, "How did they get the name, the Finger Lakes?"

Robert held up all the fingers of one hand. "Because there are five of them."

A/N: A quick apology to I wasn't trying to rant. I was trying to be philosophical. I will not try to do that again unless I have been awake for more than a half hour. On the other hand, you did say it was a nice rant.