Disclaimer: Blah

-Witchcraft-

-Lessons and Life-

'… During the reign of the Dark Lord Grindlewald, the fortress of House Weasley, The Weasle's Den was destroyed by Grindlewald's Dark Legions. Geoffrey Weasley, the then Lord of the House, and his son William were the only survivors. The rest of the family had been killed in the attack. With the loss of their ancestral home, Geoffrey rescinded his titles and lands, keeping with him the majority of the Weasley fortune. Operating out of this Vault, Geoffrey tracked down and hunted Grindlewald's lieutenants until 1945, when he was killed by Grindlewald himself, shortly before the Dark Wizard was felled by Geoffreys ex-apprentice, Albus Dumbledore. William Weasley never had an opportunity to re-instate his families name, and he died before the reign of You-Know-Who. His eldest son (of 12) Arthur, is currently Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office at the Ministry of Magic, he was married to Emily Prewitt in 19…'

Finishing the article, Draco Malfoy was in an excellent mood. He had just been to Gringotts where he was informed that his father had designated him as Lord Malfoy in the event of his imprisonment. Draco was also unfathomably happy about the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. Weasley was in the loony bin; there was nothing that could make this day better. As he strolled through Diagon Alley, the paper hooked under his arm, he looked at the faces passing him by.

'Fools, the Dark Lord will kill them all for opposing him. Disgusting Mudblood, don't walk so close to me! Who is that? Potter? This could be fun…'

Draco had spotted a wizard wearing rather expensive-looking robes walking towards the Leaky Cauldron. At first glance, the wizard appeared to be nobody of terrible importance. However, Draco quickly recognised those green eyes and wonky glasses, and readied himself for probably his finest moment in degrading the Gryffindor.

Draco threw the newspaper at the back of Potter's head – hearing it hit with a dull thwack, he smirked.

"Hey, Scar-Head, are you sad now that ickle Weasel-poo isn't able to service you anymore? It looks like the only person he'll have for company now is Lockhart!"

Potter turned around with an incomprehensible look upon his face. It was one of an old man, the thin lines around his mouth deepened as he frowned and picked up the paper.

Draco recognised a symbol on the breast of Potter's robe; a Thestral, the symbol of his mother's family. Draco wondered idly what Potter, a lowly Mudblood, was doing wearing the crest of a noble family on his robes. As Potter read through the paper, Draco noticed the slight tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the small vein in his temple that seemed to bulge with the beat of his heart. A sickening silence washed over him, and Draco felt suffocated as the air began to thicken with magic.

Draco saw the paper drop to the ground as he breathed heavily, still smirking. Potter looked up sharply at him as a sharp, cold wind began to spiral around him, making his shimmering robes flutter and wave about.

Draco's eyes flashed to Potter's hand, as his wand appeared as if from thin air, those same grey eyes widened as he saw the ring on Potter's hand. The ancestral ring of the Black family – Harry Potter was a Lord of higher station than he. Draco looked quickly back up to his Lord's face, watching as his eyes narrowed and became a solid emerald colour, literally sparking with electricity. A bright green light surrounded Potter, making him look as if on fire. Potter sharply raised his wand towards the sky, and in a booming voice said something that made Draco's teeth ache with pain.

"I, Harold James Evans Warren Black-Potter, do hereby decree as Lord of House Potter, Lord of Ancient House Black, and Lord of Ancient House Warren; the Wizard known as Voldemort is thus sentenced to death. The Families of Potter and Black hereby recall all subjects and Vassals to a state of war. May those who serve him feel the wrath of the ancients upon their souls!"

As Potter said this, a small, quiet voice spoke in Draco's ear, 'He is your Lord, as Head of your Mother's family you owe him allegiance over the Dark Lord. Family is the utmost power.'

Draco looked in awe as a bolt of lightning flew from his Lord's arm through his wand and into the sky. In a moment of quick decision he crossed his own wand over his heart and kneeled before the only person he would ever remotely serve. Another crash of thunder was heard, and when Draco looked up Potter was gone. Leaving only a smouldering crater in the middle of Diagon Alley, and a crowd that was quickly dispersing.

Draco quickly stood and portkeyed to Malfoy Manor, where he was immediately dived at by a small, regal looking owl.

Enchanter Lord Malfoy,

You are hereby summoned to a meeting of the Wizard's Council promptly at 3:00 p.m. on the 14st of June 1996. The council will convene at Salisbury Plain, tap the altar to descend.

Lord Emrys

Head of Wizard's Council

The Most Ancient and Triumphant House of Emrys

'Well,' Draco thought to himself, 'This should fare interesting.'

Jonas Trimble was a lonely man. After a small incident with a cursed teakettle falling into the hands of his Muggle neighbour, he was demoted to a lowly position in the Improper Use of Magic Office, under old Mafalda Hopkirk.

Earlier that week, the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, had approached him. Fudge had requested the Jonas report any magic in Little Whinging to him directly, without sending any notices. This was an odd request, as Little Whinging was recorded to have no wizards or witches in residence, except for an old squib relative of the McGonagall family. Jonas saw nothing wrong with the request, and seeing a possible promotion for a job well done he had immediately requested the monitoring position for Surrey, London, Sussex, and Kent. With the exception of one Master William Brook getting a hold of his mother's wand, nothing of importance had happened in the last three months, until now.

Jonas was sitting at his desk reading a copy of Teen Witch Weekly, a secret passion of his (the cover disguised as that of The Quibbler), when a red light began to flash on the oak desk in front of him. A second later, a loud siren began to buzz as various instruments activated and began taking measurements and recordings.

Jonas bolted out of his lounging position and activated the button in front of him to summon the Aurors; audible alarms only went off at an incredible amount of power, generally a sign of dark activity or illegal duelling. He ran over to the giant map covering the wall of his monitoring station and activated it.

A bright red blip was flashing in the middle of London for about a minute, before it promptly disappeared. The magical map registered it as an Apparition and tracked it to the most unlikely of locations, Little Whinging.

Eyes widening, Jonas copied down the address and sent it to the Minister's office.

'I wonder what that was, and how Fudge knew!'

Petunia Dursley, of Number 4 Privet Drive was worried. For the past fifteen years she had carefully watched her nephew, as he grew up malnourished, ignored, and oftentimes abused at the hand of her husband Vernon. For fifteen years she watched as he stayed strong and survived, for fifteen years she had begged Vernon to treat Harry as his own son, after all wouldn't Lily have treated Dudley as a son had the situation been reversed?

It had been Petunia's interference that kept Harry in the 'valuable' cupboard under the stairs, rather than the empty space behind the tool shed. It had been Petunia who petitioned Vernon to allow Harry into Dudley's second room, and to allow him to attend his school. She had watched as Harry came back each year with a weary look in his eyes, and a definite sag in his usually energetic self. She had received a report of the year's events in addition to the usual mark report given to every child's parents each year. Vernon had taken great pleasure in burning these reports, but not before Petunia had carefully copied his marks into her hidden journals.

When they had arrived at King's Cross to take Harry home, she had taken in what could not be recognised as her nephew any longer. The once bright-eyed energetic boy with an incessant spring in his step had changed drastically. He no longer looked forward when he walked, but slouched his shoulders and watched his feet as they shuffled along towards the car park.

Inside, Petunia's heart was breaking for the only remnant of her long-deceased sister. That night when they arrived home Vernon had asked Petunia for the annual report so he could burn it, she simply replied that she had anticipated and already done so, pointing to a few ashes in the now open fire grate. Satisfied, Vernon grunted and went upstairs to bed.

Petunia had received the yearly notice, sans grades after they had arrived home. She had felt tears well in her eyes as she read the reports of what happened to her nephew this year. She vowed to let Harry know that she did all she was able, to keep him happy and safe.

However, yesterday morning when she had been sitting at the kitchen table sipping her tea and waiting for him to come downstairs, she saw him come down the stairs with a silvery piece of fabric. She had watched as he looked at his surroundings, shook his head and disappeared underneath the cloak. She had let him leave, and now she was worried that he would never return. Petunia had made a grave mistake in ignoring Harry to his face, and she would never forgive herself if something were to happen to him.

As she stood washing the dishes from supper, she gazed out the window aimlessly, without any thirst for what Mrs Next-door was doing in the room visible to the kitchen. After drying off, she turned around to exit the kitchen when an almighty sound of thunder was heard. She turned to look at the sky, which was still clear and left no sign of a storm.

Petunia ran to the front door and opened it, hoping to see clouds in the distance, what she did see made her blood run cold. In the middle of a smouldering crater lay her nephew, his now long hair dishevelled around him and his eyes closed.

She ran out to him and dropped to her knees. The blackened dirt was burning her legs through her light dress. She picked him up into her lap and wiped the ash from his face, cradling his head she silently prayed that he wasn't dead. A few seconds later she felt him stir and open his eyes. She pulled him to her chest and hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face.

"A – Aunt Petunia? Are you alright?" He coughed.

"Don't you ever leave without telling me again, you had me so worried! He could have gotten you!"

Petunia let him go and helped him stand slowly. She was trying to help him into the house when a tall black man appeared from the side garden.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" She demanded of the tall man who was obviously a wizard.

"I'm here to warn Potter, the Aurors are coming."

"Wh – What? Why?" Harry said, looking up to see the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Someone tipped off Fudge, he's on his way to personally break your wand for Underage magic use with a small platoon of Aurors – they're expecting trouble."

"Well they should! What with that fool slandering my nephew in such a manner this past year, I have half a mind to take my pot-spoon to the side of his head!" Petunia snarled, her eyes flashing angrily.

"Yes, well, I'd best be off, I'm not supposed to be here. Dumbledore says to stay inside the house until he arrives and not to surrender your wand."

"Thanks, Kingsley, don't worry. Fudge won't get anything out of me."

With a small Crack! Kingsley disappeared from Privet Drive. Harry released himself from his Aunt's tight grasp as he stood upright, wincing at a small pain in his back.

'Probably from landing on my back I suppose…'

"Why are you so worried, Aunt Petunia, I know you hold no love for me. So why are you acting this way?"

"Harry… I… I'm sorry. I've tried my best for Lily, but Vernon won't have any of it. I'm not a strong person and I failed you. I promise you I'll be a better aunt to you, I love you like a son and I wish I could have told you before now." She said shakily.

Harry looked at his aunt with a dumbfounded expression on his face. His aunt, Petunia, had just told him she loved him as a son, as his own person, as Harry.

He reached out and pulled Petunia into a hug as she sobbed into his shoulder. She pulled away and looked at him, the eyes that were so dull a moment before had begun to brighten again. Both of them, aunt and nephew, smiled at each other for perhaps the first time they could remember.

As if on cue, a resoundingly loud Crack ran through the quiet street followed by whispered orders and the sounds of boots on pavement.

"Harry Potter, you are hereby under arrest for breaking the Decree for Underage Wizardry for the third time, and for Apparating without a license, there is also a charge for suspected use of the Dark Arts. You are to surrender yourself and place your wand on the ground!" Came the joyful voice of Cornelius Fudge, The Minister of Magic.

"Fudge, this is private property of the House Warren, you are trespassing on my land. You will leave the premises with your Aurors immediately!"

Petunia and Harry were standing on the front stoop of the house, watching the portly man walk up the lawn escorted by three Aurors. In a moment of rage, Petunia walked up to the Minister and promptly punched him in the face, breaking his nose. The Aurors, who immediately began listing her offences, grabbed her.

"You are under arrest for assaulting a member of the Ministry, and for aiding a wanted criminal in resisting arrest."

Harry pulled his wand out of his robes as his anger rose again. Watching the men roughly grab his aunt and drag her off the drive, he pointed the wand at the two men holding his aunt as wind began to pick up again. Harry flicked it towards Fudge who was keeled over in pain, holding his bloody nose and immediately rose into the air floating towards Harry.

With an air of menace around him, Harry approached the Aurors who had stopped moving, a glimpse of recognition ran through his mind as he saw the face of one who was holding Petunia particularly hard.

"I suggest, Auror Dawlish, that you release my Aunt immediately. I also expect that your team will vacate the premises for violating the land of an Ancient House, and falsely arresting members of said House."

Harry saw the two Aurors eyes flicker from him to Fudge (who was still floating behind him), to his Aunt, who they promptly released. She proceeded to stand up, dust her self off, and slap each one of them.

"How dare you handle a lady that way? You despicable men! Harry, release the Minister please."

"I expect, Minister Fudge, that you will not intrude on private property again, the next time you do my wards will not be very pleasant for you. And I assure you as Head of House Potter, that the wards will leave you unable to sit behind your desk for the next month." Harry said, allowing the Minister to fall to the ground, "I should also point out that as Head of my Family I am exempt from Underage Wizardry Laws."

While Fudge was being helped away by the Aurors, who were systematically Disapparating, Harry and Petunia returned to the house. Before entering, Petunia turned to Fudge with a scowl on her face.

"Minister, please tell Madam Umbridge that she made a terrible mistake in crossing me, and that there shall be legal action against her in regards to my nephew's safety over this past year."

After a lengthy discussion with Vernon on the dangers and advantages of Harry being able to do magic, he reluctantly agreed to allow his nephew to stay for a few weeks (although, Harry was required to cast a few discreet calming charms to prevent his dear Uncle from soiling himself).

Harry had gone up to his room. Too tired to change, he pulled out the gnarled talisman that had been passed down through his family. As he held it, the Raven's Claw lit his small room with a visible aura of pale blue. The shadows cast almost seemed alive, and as he recited the incantation they grew as the light was pulled in tight to the now floating claw.

A loud raven's caw was heard as the claw attached itself to the base of Harry's skull. That was the last thing he heard as the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive swirled into darkness.

As he awoke, Harry noticed that there was no longer a sharp pain at the back of his neck, but a dull throb between his temples. He sat up, blinking his eyes, pulling brand new glasses onto his face he felt around for the object that had caused such pain in the first place. Lying beside his pillow were the Raven's Claw, a small parchment, and a small bottle. Picking up the note he read it under his breath.

Dear Harry,

Your father is an inconsiderate moron. When he let me use that thing he conveniently forgot to mention it left you with a throbbing headache by the time you woke up. I've charmed the claw to provide you with this note and a bottle of headache potion for the next morning. Take this as a lesson. Never use a magical device without thoroughly researching it first.

All My Love,

Mum

His breath hitched in his throat. Harry gentle placed the short note on the bedside table, and downed the potion. A warm feeling enveloped his head as the potion began to work.

Harry stood in the room and looked around at his meagre surroundings. Sighing, he enlarged his trunks and took out a thick book he had purchased the day before on Conjuring and Advanced Transfiguration.

When Harry had started on the fifth chapter he was pacing the room, book in his left hand, and practising wand movements with his right. Still muttering incantations under his breath, Harry had not noticed the elderly man who was sitting atop his rickety desk until a slight cough alerted him to someone's presence.

"Ahem, Constant Vigilance, Harry," said Dumbledore with a small smile. "I believe that last spell has emphasis on the second 'r'."

Spinning around, Harry apologised with a sheepish grin and put his book down.

"Albus, I've actually just woken up, do you think you could do a little… Erm… Re-modeling while I go shower?"

"Of course Harry, it won't take very long." The aged sorcerer said, rolling his sleeves. "Run along, there's work to be done today!"

After a brief shower, Harry had donned a pair of new black trousers, with a well fitting t-shirt. He looked almost Muggle, if not for the anti-wrinkle and self-cleaning charms weaved into the thread.

As he entered his room, the first thing he noticed was the newly painted walls, the second thing he noticed was the four-poster bed, and the third was the small training area, where Dumbledore was currently arranging the contents of his trunks, every so often he would pull out a book or an object and jump with excitement.

Sitting in a plush leather chair, Harry watched as his mentor pulled out a long, straight piece of wood with a purely clear crystal set at the top. With one look at the battle-staff, he nearly dropped it with excitement.

"H – Harry, do you know what this is?"

"It's a battle-staff sir, I've twelve in total. What's so important about it?"

"Harry, these are original battle-staves," Dumbledore said as he carefully put them in a large display case along the wall. "They were gifted to only two families by the Elves. The Blacks and the Weasleys, the Warrior Families. They are recorded to act as amplifiers for Battle Magics; this would allow one wizard to attack a large group of enemies at once without draining extra power. These could be very useful in the future. I will have to ask Arthur to search his vaults for the second set. Only 24 were made, it is impossible to create more."

Once finished setting up the training area, Dumbledore examined Harry's wand and nodded in approval. Motioning for him to sit down, they sat cross-legged on the padded grey floor.

"The first thing you must know about Magical Control, is that magic is everywhere. There is not one place on this planet that is entirely devoid of magic. Your nature as an Environmental is to utilise the magic around you, by supplementing your natural ability, it is far less likely that you will tire during periods of intense magical concentration."

"Excuse me, but Sir - how do you know all of this?"

"Harry, my boy, there is more to being a Hogwarts Headmaster than the title. Do you think previous Headmasters have not had similar situations?"

"Oh, of course, sorry. Please continue."

"Thank you, the first exercise we must use is a basic Occlumency preparation as I'm sure you're familiar with. Please close your eyes and begin the Flame and Void exercise."

After a moment's hesitation, Harry looked towards Albus with a hard look in his eyes.

"I'm afraid you will have to describe this exercise for me Albus, the only Occlumency training I've had is 'Clear Your Mind'."

"Indeed, I shall speak to Severus about this. This is the exercise to clear your mind. You need to close your eyes and picture the thoughts in your mind. Picture a spark among the thoughts, and slowly guide them into it, fuelling the flame. Allow the flame to grow until you see nothing, but a void, concentrate on the void. If you feel a stray thought, allow it to rekindle the flame and restore the void."

Albus watched as the young man's face grimaced within his thoughts, slowly he watched as the grimace turned into a slight frown, and then to calm face.

"I am going to slowly lower the Suppressor Charm. Visualise the magic that begins to seep inwards as a fog, a colour, water, anything. As it begins to cloud your void, I want you to visualise it leaving the void, let it create a wall around your void."

Harry was sitting in darkness, it was empty, and it was boundless. Occasionally, there was a small speck of dust, but it immediately flew towards him and incinerated. Slowly, he felt a coolness touch his feet, it began to slowly flow around him, and it began to suffocate him. He was lost in the void when he heard a distant voice.

"Push it away, make it a wall around you, you are in control."

With a small grunt he began to push the feeling away from him, he allowed it to solidify around him, caging his void. The coldness seemed to wrap around him, like a second skin. In an instant there was nothing left but Harry, his wall, and his void.

"You may open your eyes, Harry, I must admit this is very good progress. Not many have been able to so efficiently control their mind. I do believe that your Environmental shields will be quite sufficient as long as you are conscious. If you aren't very tired, I believe we can begin working on channelling magic for your spells… Harry?"

Still consumed with the calming feeling of the void, Harry absently nodded a silent yes. For the rest of the day, Harry worked harder on his magic than he had in his entire life.

For a week, Harry was subjected to the most intense magical training since the worldwide threat of Grindelwald. Over this week, Grand Sorcerer Albus Dumbledore had given Harry training equivalent to his last two years at Hogwarts, and helped the younger sorcerer gain mastery over his Environmental abilities.

During his nineteen-hour long days, Harry had been studying the hereditary magic of the Potters, Warding. By combining his wards with cast runes, Harry was able to set specifics of a ward more efficiently than a simple warding spell. If he used full concentration, it took Albus about ten minutes to full dismantle Harry's Anti-Apparition wards.

Although Harry had been learning at an alarming rate, he was still having trouble with Blood Magic. To successfully cast this magic Harry would have to perform a blood ritual with a member of the Black family. The one spell he had been successful with was the Tutela ex Minuo, the Shield of Blood. It was a lesser form of the blood wards that were protecting him from Voldemort at Privet Drive. The shield required the caster to bleed on themselves, or whosoever they are to protect. After reciting the incantation, it protects against physical (force, flame, lightning, etc…) and chemical (such as acid) damage.

One of the most interesting lessons Harry had been given by Dumbledore was the one of Sorcerer's Apparition. When he asked Albus why he had Apparated in a bolt of lightning, the man's eyes lit up and he began to smile. During that lesson, Harry had learned that Sorcerers, if they so choose, are able to Apparate with the aid of an element (in Harry's case, Chaos) – Dumbledore himself had an affinity for Fire. While Harry was learning these skills from Dumbledore, he had also been secretly studying the books of Atlantean Battle Magic, which Albus had forbidden him to read. Due to their sheer power and destructive force they required and caused. While practising with these magics, Harry had also begun to practise duelling.

At the current moment, Albus Dumbledore was sitting in the now familiar seating area of Harry's room. He had been watching Harry's progress over the past week. Harry had dedicated himself to working, just as Albus himself had after Grindelwald killed his own parents in 1940. The question he had just been asked was one he was not expecting, it was not possible for Albus to teach Harry the skills he had requested.

"Harry, I'm afraid that you cannot learn Wandless Magic."

"But Sir, you use it, why can't I!"

"It isn't as simple as that Harry. Usually when an Ancient Blood comes of age, at the age of 20, their father will perform a ritual with them that allows them to use 'Wandless Magic', which is in reality Elemental Magic." The elder sorcerer explained seriously. "We are unable to cast spells with this magic, but are able to manipulate the elements, for example, to conjure or transfigure wandlessly, I utilise the Earth element and tell it to create an object, or change one into another. Likewise, any levitation or summoning is done with the Air element. In normal circumstances your father would have performed the ceremony after the discovery of your heritage. There is no one else who can perform the ritual."

"I see," Harry replied lightly, sighing he leaned back in his chair and silently entered his void, when he was in his void; Harry felt nothing, no pain for Sirius, no remorse for his parents.

"However, I have contacted Bill Weasley and he has agreed to train you with your battle-staff. He will arrive sometime tomorrow morning. I'll stop by in a few days to discuss the Council meeting, goodnight Harry."

And with that, Albus disappeared with a slight Pop. Harry took a deep breath, it was a great disappointment that he would be unable to perform the wandless ritual, but then again, as he saw it Voldemort had no father to perform the ritual for him either. A small tapping at the window snapped him out of his thoughts. Walking over to the window, he remembered the letter that he had received the first night of his training.

Wardmaster Lord Potter,

You are hereby summoned to a meeting of the Wizard's Council at promptly 3:00p.m. on the 14th June 1996. The Council will convene at Salisbury Plain, tap the altar to descend. As a representative of three houses, you will be referred to as Lord Potter, but still control the other two seats. You are required to have a Magical family member (usually next in line) as a second. Narcissa Black Malfoy has been chosen as yours. Any questions may be forwarded to your Headmaster.

Lord Emrys

Head of Wizard's Council

The Most Ancient and Triumphant House of Emrys

Opening the window, he let in an elegant looking hawk owl, which dropped the letter clutched in his beak on the nearby desk and left. Slitting the unfamiliar red seal he opened the letter to find a familiar neat print.

Dear Harry,

Sorry we haven't written before now, as I'm pretty sure you know Ron is in the Hospital, you should go visit him. My parents and I are staying at the Burrow this summer. I'm not sure if you were aware, but the Weasleys had their name re-instated on an Oath of Vengeance.

The fortress is coming along quickly with all the help we've had from the goblins. Apparently, an old Wardmaster family is going to be at the Wizard's Council next week, I think Mr Weasley is going to ask them to help ward the Weasel's Den.

Harry, I – I'm sorry about Sirius, I know you were close but please don't push us away, and I need you now that Ron is… Try to stop by the Burrow sometime; Headquarters has been relocated here after the old one shut us out.

Mr and Mrs Weasley have been training Ginny, Percy, Charlie, the Twins and I. Apparantly Mr Weasley trained Bill shortly before he began his Curse Breaking apprenticeship. The twins were given a book that belonged to their uncles, they haven't been seen around lately and I'm not sure what they're up to. I have to go help strengthen a ward, please write back.

Love from,

Mione

Reading over the letter he sighed, he had hoped it was from Remus, since the first letter Harry had sent, nobody from the Order had seen hide or hair of him. Hastily scribbling a reply, he sent it off with Hedwig when another four owls flew in and dropped letters. Harry slouched into his chair and began to read again.

My Lord Potter,

As Vassals to House Potter, we the Houses McGonagall, Goshawk, and Greengrass affirm our allegiance to the Ancient and Beloved House of Potter. As Vassals we are at your command. We have jointly agreed to meet on the date of 20th June at Godric's Hollow, if it is agreeable with your Lordship's schedule.

Honour and Life,

Michael McGonagall

The Elder and Honourable Clan McGonagall

Miranda Goshawk

The Elder and Loyal House of Goshawk

Constantine Greengrass

The Elder and Valorous House of Greengrass

My Lord Black,

As Vassals to House Black, we the Houses Snape, Vector, and Bulstrode affirm our subservience to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. We await your will. If it is convenient, we are prepared to meet your Lordship at the Black Manor on the 21st June.

Toujours Pur,

Severus Snape

The Elder and Malevolent House of Snape

Wilhelm Vector

The Elder and Shrewd House of Vector

Petrus Bulstrode

The Elder and Temperate House of Bulstrode

My Lord Warren,

As Vassals to Ancient House Warren, we the Houses Flitwick and Viridian reaffirm our alliances to the Most Ancient and Powerful House of Warren. A meeting has been scheduled at the Ruins of Castle Warren for the 6th August. If this is inconvenient please reply.

Blessed Be,

Filius Flitwick

The Ancient and Nurturing House of Flitwick

Vindictus Viridian

The Ancient and Vengeful House of Viridian

June 5th 1996.

Dear Harry,

It was pretty surprising, waking up to an owl delivering mail, but then again when your days are spent fighting demons and warlocks you tend to become a little immune to weirdness. We've only been aware of our powers for about 2 years. They were unlocked after our Grandmother died.

We would be happy to have you stay with us for a while. It is kind of a big house after all. We're also interested in this Wizard stuff, it could be useful. Our Book of Shadows is only dated 1634, We're sure yours has a lot more to say than ours does. If you can be here between noon and 1 o'clock on July 1st, it would be great.

Your Cousins,

Prue, Piper, & Phoebe

With a loud groan, Harry jumped into his bed and decided to deal with the rest of it tomorrow. As he fell asleep, his mind was turned to his friends, when would he have time for Hermione and Ginny? When would he see Ron? A small tear escaped his eye as he thought of his fallen friend.

'Never Again.'

Author's Note: I'll say it again here... I NEED A NEW BETA, somebody who is good with grammar and formatting, and who i can bounce ideas off of.