A/N: Hi, sorry this is a little late - I was ill all weekend. Miserable, especially since its half term for me now. Anyway, that's the reason this chapter's a little shorter than I'd hoped for. The next one should be out next weekend as usual. Thanks for all your reviews, and especially to those people who offered to beta - I've emailed those of you who left be addresses and hope to hear from you soon.
James watched until they disapparated together, all of them looking a little put out at being excluded. He turned back again and looked around.
He was at the beginning of a series of fields, obviously well tended and producing many different crops, many of which were unfamiliar to him. Others contained archaic looking animals that must have been ancestors of modern sheep and cows. There, in the distance, was the castle itself.
It was an impressive affair, situated on the top of a hill and surrounded by a steep ditch. It was stone and, unlike at Hogwarts, it was quite obviously built for war, with only slits for windows. It certainly got the point across. A mud track led the way up to the castle, imprinted with small boots and horseshoes.
Following it through the fields, James crossed the narrow wooden drawbridge and came to the huge oak doors of the castle. They were shut. He stopped and thought about it; this was a moment when having someone like Severus along would have been extremely useful. Since inspiration failed him, James pushed the door in the hope that it was simply unlocked.
It swung open. The doors must have been perfectly balanced on their hinges since the door - standing at least five metres high and ten centimetres thick- was light and moved at the slightest nudge.
James drew his wand and stepped in. The door swung shut behind him and he jumped. It was shadowy inside, the only light coming from a high slitted opening high up in the wall above him.
"Lumos!" he murmured, holding his wand up and looking around.
He was standing in a huge hall, maybe four or more times the size of the Great Hall of Hogwarts and twice as high. Long wooden tables ran the length of the hall, benches running along side them. At the far end of the hall was a table perpendicular to the other and on a small dais, sort of like the teachers' table at Hogwarts. The floor was covered in a layer of some sort of plant, reeds probably, that rustled as he stepped on them and smelt . . . strange, unfamiliar. On the walls hung great shields and banners of coats of arms long since forgotten and the swords and axes belonging to the great warriors of ancient times. Small archways along the walls led off, presumably towards other parts of the fortress.
James found it particularly strange, since there were a few obvious design similarities with Hogwarts, yet it was so different, even more so in that this was a silent place, a memorial to times quite unknown to his generation. It was so well preserved, looked so lived in, that he expected to walk into a knight any minute.
He chose an archway at random and walked into a small, dark passageway that twisted and turned as if he was in a labyrinth. At last, he came to some uneven stairs and climbed up them. When he reached the top, he was standing in front of a small, wooden door. Examining it more closely, James noted the Slytherin snake carved into the centre of it.
He pushed the door open and walked into a bedroom. It was quite large but still simple - a bed in the centre of the room, a single shelf of books, a chest in the corner and a rail in an alcove (for clothes?). The walls were covered in tapestries for the most part and the floor held animal pelts that would have cushioned the room against the cold of the stone floor.
On one wall however, were two portraits. The first appeared to be a normal painting, a Muggle one, not moving at all. There were two boys in it, one of about nine years of age riding on the shoulders of a brawny young man. They were dressed in shirts and brown trousers but both wore a dagger in a sheath on their belt next to a wand holser and the older one had a ruby-hilted sword at his side that looked well-used and that he looked accustomed to wearing. They had been troubled times indeed. A carved message at the bottom of the frame read 'Godric and Salazar'. It was certainly a fascinating piece - James had never realised how much younger Salazar must have been. Since the records stated that Godric had been twenty nine when Hogwarts was founded, Salazar must have been a very young man, sixteen maybe.
There was a sudden 'POP'.
James jumped about a foot into the air, spinning around into a crouch to notice a house elf standing beside him. They stared at each other for a moment, then the house elf bowed deeply.
"Bienvenu Maitre," it said, its voice slightly gravely. James was no expert, but he thought the elf must be ancient, judging by the wrinkles around the eyes.
"Hello?" he tried, remembering with some panic that from 1066 for a few centuries, the nobility of England had spoken French. It was possible that it could present just a few problems. "Do you speak English?"
The house elf looked at him blankly.
"Tu ne parles pas Francais?"
James shook his head, guessing what it meant. He wasn't even sure if this was an archaic form of French. If so, the standard translation charm wouldn't work.
The elf narrowed its eyes and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.
"Hwaet!" it instructed. James watched closely. It pointed at the wand and slowly articulated some words that were like no French James had ever heard. Might it be a spell? Worth a try. He gestured for the elf to repeat them again and copied them himself.
A shower of green sparks shot from his wand into the elf's body.
"You understand now master? The spell worked?"
"Perfectly, thank you."
"Welcome to Castle Firebreath. I assume you are the new master descended from the children of the last masters to reside in this place."
"Uh yes, I suppose so. My father was James Potter, I'm told he was descended from Godric Gryffindor. My mother was Lily Evans and I think that she was descended from Slytherin, but it's a Squib line, so hard to trace accurately."
"I am Wat, the chief house elf of the estate and I have to say that you do look remarkably like my last young master, Septimus."
"James Evans."
"That is not your true name."
"You can tell?"
"I am blood bound to your family, young master, I can always tell when you are lying."
"I wasn't lying!" James protested, feeling awfully like he had being pulled up by Professor McGonagall during his time at Hogwarts. "My true name is Harry James Evans Potter, satisfied?"
"Quite, Master Harry."
"I would really rather you called me James."
"Master James, then. Will you be staying here?"
"Not immediately. I'm teaching at Hogwarts at the moment, you know where that is?"
"I'm seven hundred and twenty three years old this Midwinter, not senile!"
"Yes, well one of my friends is in a lot of danger at the moment and someone found a description of this place, so I thought I'd look for it."
"A noble quest for a young man such as yourself. He is not related to Podmore, I hope."
"I don't think so, I think his family's French."
"Acceptable. You will be staying tonight, though. There is much you must see if you are to take control," Wat said. It was not a question. James had the feeling that he was only the last one in a long line of young wizards and house elves this being had seen come and go: he quite obviously didn't stand a chance.
"Okay then," he agreed hastily. One night wouldn't do his job any harm. "Is there are a bathroom."
"Bathroom?"
'Oh no, James thought, please let them at least have a decent bathroom.
"A place to uh relieve yourself . . . . " he said, gesturing towards that area of his body.
"There's the trench outside, or a jacks off the Great Hall," Wat said, sounding puzzled. That was obviously an answer in the negative. There was obviously quite a lot to do before Draco would agree to stay here. James loved him dearly, in a fraternal sort of way, but it was obvious why people tended to think he was gay. It had been an ongoing joke how long he spent on his toilette.
He thought for a moment about the austerity of the little of the fortress he had seen so far. The rushes and animal furs on the floors, the lack of toilets - this had been a fortress, not a manor house like the Malfoys owned. There was going to be a hell of a lot he needed to do.
The next morning, after some lengthy negotiations with Wat about the improvements he was determined to make, James Apparated back to Hogwarts. To his surprise, Severus and Draco were sitting at the Apparition point waiting for him.
"James!" Draco exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "What was it like!"
"Morning Severus. I didn't actually see all of it Draco, so I can't give you a full description. It is a little primitive though."
"It makes sense," Severus said, standing up and starting to walk back to the school.
"What does?" Draco asked.
"It hasn't been lived in for half a millennia, they didn't have lots of the amenities we have today."
"What sort of things?"
"Well, I'd imagine that they wouldn't have running water, so no bathrooms or toilets. I don't think magical portraits were often made until a while after Salazar Slytherin's death, so there would have been far fewer of those than there were at Hogwarts."
"It did surprise me a bit," James admitted. "There's a house elf there that's running things who I talked to, once we got the language thing settled out. He seemed perfectly happy telling me what to do, so I just agreed with him for the most part. I'm going to have a few things done to make it more habitable. I think I'd be constantly Apparating back here for a shower if I tried to move in now!"
"It's a plausible safe-house for the Malfoys then?"
"I'd say so, certainly Wat the house elf didn't have any objections. He didn't seem to mind who you were so long as you were relatively well born and not related to the Podmore family. You aren't, are you?"
"Of course not!" Draco retorted, sounding offended at the thought. "They were supposedly so inbred that they saw bunny rabbits instead of soldiers when they were last attacked. Besides, do I look like that idiot from the Headless Hunt? There is no resemblance whatsoever!"
"Take it easy on the poor little orphan boy," James said, amused at this rise.
"Hardly poor," Severus murmured; James glared at him.
"Why don't you go and tell Blaise?" he suggested. Draco nodded and stalked off.
The two teachers walked in silence for a bit, then Severus asked.
"Was it really interesting?"
James nodded.
"I found a portrait there of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Did you know that Godric was so much older - he looked about ten or fifteen years older at the least. There's not that much personal stuff there at all though - anything like books was removed when the family moved out and it was a primarily a fortress anyway, very plain furnishings and the like. I thought I'd see if I could borrow Dobby from Dumbledore for a bit and see if he can modernise the place. As soon as I've got it presentable, I'll invite a few people who might be interested."
"Won't that be a security risk?"
"Shouldn't think so - only someone with the bloodline can get through the wards. It's even stronger than a Fidelius charm, since killing the Secret Keeper can break that. Even if I'm killed, the wards should hold."
"Clever."
"Isn't it. Have you thought about what you're doing over the holiday?"
"Same as usual, I expect," Severus replied. "I'll stay at school, do some research perhaps. A crowd of old pupils and friends generally come in for Christmas day and then of course Albus has that Ball of his."
"I'd almost forgotten about it," James lied.
"Hogsmeade weekend next week, last opportunity to buy a costume. I assure you that there is no chance Minerva will be allowed to forget. She, of course, managed to get out of chaperoning and I really don't want to know how."
There was a long pause.
"Eww, I really didn't need that mental image!" James said, pulling a face. Severus checked the vicinity for students, then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, his black eyes twinkling with mischief.
"You didn't know? I thought everyone did by now. There was a betting pool on until he kissed her on the lips after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort. We decided that was good enough evidence. I don't know why they maintain the fiction of having separate quarters either. . . "
"Can we just drop the subject," James interrupted, blocking his ears. "He's old enough to be my grandfather's grandfather."
The next morning, James was enjoying a well deserved rest. Not that he was going to lie in or anything, he had classes to teach, after all. Still, he was intending to get a full night's sleep. That's when he was not impressed when he was roughly shaken awake.
He opened his eyes blearily and scowled at the offending person. It was Severus.
"Read this," he instructed calmly, as if rousing young men from their beds was a common occupation for him. He then watched as James sat up and skimmed through the article pointed out to him.
THE NEXT DARK LORD?
A highly placed source within the Ministry of Magic itself has today informed us that an intelligence report has confirmed the identity of the wizard behind the recent attacks as being Lucius Malfoy, a former politician and aristocrat who is a convicted Death Eater from Lord Voldemort's regime. Lucius Malfoy is a widower (wife Naricissa Black was executed eight years ago) and has one son, Draco Malfoy. The younger Mr Malfoy, reputed to be an Order of the Phoenix member and a close friend of heroes such as Ron and Hermione Weasley, was unable for comment this morning.
Lucius Malfoy is known to have taken part in the attacks on the Ministry during Voldemort's rising and paid hefty bribes to former Minister, Cornelius Fudge (convicted as a traitor to the Ministry, 1998). It is unknown how much of his money remains in his possession. Auror Commander Kingsley Shacklebolt had only this to say to our readers:
"Lucius Malfoy is a very dangerous man who will stoop to anything to achieve his ends. It is the opinion of many that his time in Azkaban rendered him more than a little insane. Our only advice is to take care and avoid going into disreputable areas such as Knockturn Alley alone or at night. The Ministry of Magic is doing its utmost best to ensure that he is apprehended with all possible speed. Any sightings should be reported immediately."
At that, James stopped and looked up.
"Its certain?"
"The intelligence report was compiled by an Order member; we're sure it's him."
"Draco?"
"He's not taking it well. I think he knew it was coming but it's a shock seeing it in print so soon."
"I'll come through, just let me get dressed. Could you see if Albus would excuse me from teaching today? If that's what it takes, I'll stay on the Quidditch pitch all day to keep him occupied."
"Certainly. I'm sure he could cover them himself should it come to that. I'll join you out there when I'm not teaching."
James pulled on a heavy winter cloak and stuck the warmest pair of gloves he owned into his pockets. He was going to help his friend the best he could, but he'd do them no favours if he got ill doing it.
A/N: I don't think I even need to say it, but I would really appreciate it if you'd click the little purple/blue/mauve/whatever-you-want-to-call-it button and review this fic. It makes me feel happy about my story grins and of course,the more I enjoy it, the more I write in each chapter.