I do not own Harry Potter or Fate/Stay Night. I am only writing this for fun and for nothing in terms of monetary gain. If you're looking to sue me then forget about it. I am writing this for the sake of writing.
Fate/Ingens Cor
By Ten-Faced Paladin
Chapter 2: Over your Head
Harry couldn't help but blink when the black knight, Saber seemed to proclaim Harry as his Master. To be fair, the moment had been rather surreal for Harry. Being chased by two Dementors while attempting to keep his cousin safe strained his nerves and when it seemed that one of the Dementors would get him, Saber appeared and beat down one Demntor with a cricket bat before piercing another one to a wall with a fire poker, killing it. The black knight actually somehow used magic to modify the two ordinary items and transform them into weapons which were capable of harming, and even killing a Dementor.
Naturally, suddenly finding yourself the supposed master of such a being would bring up one's mental facilities short.
"M-me?" Harry blinked. "Your…Master?"
"Yes Master," Saber nodded. "The Command Spells on your hand are evidence enough to me."
"M-my hand?" Harry blinked. Tearing his eyes away from Saber for the first time, he looked down at his hands to confirm or deny what the black knight was talking about. He quickly found what the iron-clad man was talking about, finding a red marking on his hand which appeared to look like a sword, with the blade, hilt, and handle all in separate pieces. Lifting his hand, Harry revealed the markings to Saber whom he couldn't tell if he was watching in patience or annoyance, "These?"
"Yes Master," Saber nodded. "Those are the proof of our contract. They mark you as my Master and as such, you can command me."
"O-oh," Harry breathed. Despite having been used to magic for some time now, he was finding himself truly floored by this intimidating knight, how he appeared, killed a Dementor, and then swore loyalty to him.
Still, part of Harry's mind reminded him that he was sitting on the floor and that he had dropped his wand. Grabbing it by pure reflex, he began to get too his feet even though the after-effects of his exposure to the Dementors was making his legs feel like wet noodles. The strength quickly failed and he was about to fall, but Saber's armoured hand quickly captured his wrist. Harry then felt himself pulled up to his feet as Saber rose.
"Thanks," Harry replied, mostly out of reflex. He received a nod from Saber in return. Once both were back on their feet, Saber gestured to where Dudley was laying on the ground, the close proximity to the Dementors having knocked him unconscious.
"What are we to do with him Master?" the black knight asked.
"That's my cousin," Harry replied, his awe over the situation quickly dissipating in light of the current emergency. "We need to get him back to my house! Uh…um…chocolate!" Saber's head quirked at the odd proclamation. "Oh never mind! Just pick him up and follow me!"
Saber nodded and quickly walked over to Dudley, his iron feet digging into the wooden floor. Grasping the boy around the sides and hefting him over his shoulder as if he were as light as a feather, Saber turned to look at Harry, silently asking for further orders. Harry was silently impressed at Saber's strength to lift a boy he was sure that was comparable to weight with a small cow. Rather than stand and gape at the sight though, he gestured for Saber to follow him as they headed for the door. Walking through the door with Saber in tow they headed for the sidewalk so they could get Dudley back home. Hopefully the people of Little Whinging would either be in their usual schedules and all be inside watching television or having dinner and wouldn't notice a black knight walking down the street with a boy slung over his shoulder.
"Don't move!"
'Bugger!' Harry thought with a grimaced as he turned to view who had spotted them. Who had called at him though was something of a surprise. "Mrs. Figg?"
Harry's eyes weren't lying to him. Directly in front of him was Mrs. Figg, the elderly woman whom the Dursleys would drop him off to when they went to take Dudley out someplace fun. She would usually give him stale sweets and make him look at all of the photo albums of her past cats while helping her feed all of the current cats she was the owner of. She was probably one of the most boring people Harry had ever met, even if she was leagues nicer than the Dursleys even on her worst day.
So, it was something of a surprise for him to see the old woman pointing what looked like a wand at Saber, whom was at Harry's back.
"Get over here Harry, quickly!" the old man spoke urgently before she looked at Saber. "You! Drop the boy! Now!"
Saber was not in the least bit intimidated, "My Master ordered me-"
"I don't care what You-Know-Who ordered! Drop the boy!" Mrs. Figg scowled. Her scowl hardened when she noticed that Harry had yet to actually move towards her and away from the black knight. "Harry, get over here now!"
"Mrs. Figg, it's all right!" Harry cried, trying to prevent any more violence for the night. Saber had killed a Dementor with what appeared to be minimal effort and he didn't want to see what would happen if he fought a grown witch. "He's not working for Voldemort!"
"Harry, you can't be sure!" Mrs Figg cried back, her wand still trained on the unmoving Saber. "Two Dementors and this fellow show up, I'd consider that pretty suspicious. He could have been the one who sent them for all you know!"
"But he isn't!" Harry insisted. "I'm the one who summoned him!"
That statement brought Mrs. Figg up short, making her wand dip down, "What?"
"My Master invoked the Third True Magic and called me to his side," Saber explained, showing an amazing amount of patience for someone who was being threatened. "I dealt with the threat and he ordered me assist him in bringing this boy home."
"The Third True Magic…?" Mrs. Figg blinked, he jaw beginning to drop. It was quite obvious from her tone that she didn't quite know what to make of the term, or she did know and couldn't believe it. Shaking her head, she returned to her stern face. "Fine, then follow me and heaven help you if anything funny happens."
The elderly woman tucked the wand into her dress pocket and began heading down the street. Harry, not really sure what to say merely followed with Saber obediently carrying Dudley after them. As Harry caught up with his older neighbour, he couldn't help but wonder if everything he knew about Mrs. Figg had been true or not.
"Mrs. Figg," he spoke tentatively. "How long have…"
"Have I been a witch?" asked Mrs. Figg. Glancing back at Saber, she sighed. "If this fellow is telling the truth then there's no harm in telling. I'm not actually a witch. I'm a squib."
Harry blinked, remembering the term to describe the eternally-sour custodian of Hogwarts, Argus Filch. Squib was a term used to describe someone who was born into a family of wizards and witches, but was unable to use magic themselves. It didn't matter to him if one was magical or not, but to a lot of the so-called upper society, it meant a lot and was more or less a declaration of the fact that your family line was dirty in some way, shape, or form. It was the kind of thing that Voldemort and the people like him wanted to 'purge' from wizarding society.
"Then why do you have a wand?" asked Harry.
"It's a fake. Albus gave it to me to scare off some of the less-courageous threats who might come your way if they thought you weren't the only magical in the area," the old woman answered, wistfully patting the pocket she had put the fake wand into. Obviously she still wished it wasn't a fake. "To answer your next question, Albus helped station me here so to keep a better eye on you, more so after last year. I wanted to be nicer to you over the years, but if those awful relatives of yours suspected I was treating you well then they would have made sure I never saw you again."
"Oh," Harry blinked. Today it seemed was a day for revelations. On one hand he was glad that someone at least had his back during his time in Little Whinging, even if they were limited in their movements lest the Dursleys take him away from her and work doubly hard to make him unhappy. On the other hand though, someone had been more or less spying on him his whole life, working for Dumbledore no less. How the elderly headmaster seemed content to send him back to a household which didn't want him every year just couldn't compute in Harry's mind.
"I just can't believe bloody Dementors would come out into the middle of a muggle area. I am going to kill Mundnungus when I see him again." Mrs. Figg frowned. "I think it's safe to say that they were coming specifically after you since you're the only wizard in all of Little Whinging"
"Someone is trying to assassinate my Master?" asked Saber with a dark undertone.
"Nothing new there," Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Then perhaps fortune favoured you when you summoned me when you did," Saber commented. "The one responsible for this will think twice when one of those beasts returns with tales of the other being killed."
Mrs. Figg suddenly halted, turned her gaze to Saber, "You killed a Dementor?"
"It was but a simple task," Saber replied. "Perhaps a small challenge to my accuracy because of their robes, but again it was not difficult."
"Third True Magic indeed," Mrs. Figg sighed, looking back down the street. "Well, maybe if whoever sent those Dementors hears one of them gets killed, they probably will think twice about sending another to try a second time. I just don't fancy what the Ministry may try once they hear of it. Supposedly they are in complete control all of the bloody monsters. Someone's going to raise a stink over this." The old woman trailed off into mutterings about how the Ministry of Magic was going to raise a stink or do their best to cover up the whole incident, ignoring the fact that they weren't in control of the beasts anymore. Her mutterings became even more venomous as she listed what she was going to do to someone named Mundungus Fletcher when she got her hands on him.
Harry stopped listening to the older woman's mutterings in favour of glancing back at Saber. Despite being more or less recovered from the adrenaline rush, The Boy-Who-Lived was still unsure what to truly make of the black knight whom claimed loyalty to him. He was intimidating enough to be sure and could have easily been mistaken for being part of the dark wizard movement. However, despite this Harry just couldn't seem to find it in himself to be afraid of the knight. Maybe it was because of how Saber had saved his life or maybe it had something to do with the contract the pair had formed, the proof of which resided on the back of Harry's hand. Something about the knight just made it impossible to think of him in any kind of negative light. Harry just hoped that it was a kind of charisma or something rather than a mood-altering magic which the contract had put on him.
"Well, seems like we're here," Mrs. Figg sighed, snapping Harry from his thoughts. The soon-to-be fifteen year old blinked and saw that he was indeed back at Number 4 Privet Drive. The sight of his home made his heart sink. He knew that there was no way to play off what happened to Dudley since his aunt and uncle were going to blame him no matter what, and rightly so for a change since the Dementors were after him in the first place. They would throw him out in a heartbeat for this fiasco.
"Chin up Harry. It'll all work out," Mrs. Figg tried to reassure the young man. "I'll send word to Albus and see if we can't figure out just what the devil is going on," she then looked over to Saber. "As for you, might as well set the boy down and see if you can't hide anywhere. I suppose I have the space if you don't mind cats."
"I refuse to leave my Master's side," Saber retorted.
"Well I hardly believe that the boy's aunt and uncle will let you into the house," Mrs. Figg sighed. "They have a positively medieval attitude towards magic as it is and I sincerely doubt they'd accept you with open arms despite having saved their son."
"If Master allows me to astralize then I can," Saber replied.
"What?" the old woman and the young man blinked simultaneously.
"Master, your magical power is what fuels me," Saber explained. "Should you constrict the flow of magic between us, I will be reverted into a ghost-like state. I will be able to follow you anywhere and keep you safe at all times."
"Well isn't that convenient," Mrs. Figg commented. "Alright then, hand Dudley over and we'll see if Harry can't make that happen. Heaven knows I don't know how we haven't been spotted by the neighbours yet. They're particularly nosy around this area. I've caught them peeking over each others' fences enough times."
Harry nodded before he and Mrs. Figg retrieved Dudley from Saber's grip. Once the unconscious boy was secured and not in danger of dropping to the ground, Harry turned his concentration to what Saber had told him. Harry wasn't quite sure how controlling his magical energy was supposed to work, but he was apparently going to have to limit the flow to Saber in order for him to hide in plain sight. To that end, Harry imagined an image of himself and one of Saber with a glowing blue line connecting the two of them. With the image clear in his mind, Harry imagined a clamp appearing in the middle of the line, making the side Saber was on grow smaller. Not enough to cut the line off completely, but significantly restricted.
"Harry," the voice of Mrs. Figg gasped out.
Harry opened his eyes and immediately almost lost his concentration. Right in front of him, half of Saber's body had turned transparent and his upper half was quickly catching up with the rest of him. Right before his eyes, Saber had turned completely transparent, not looking out of place from the Hogwarts ghosts save for the colour. What was more amazing was the fact that it seemed like Mrs. Figg couldn't see him anymore
"Third True Magic indeed," Mrs. Figg blinked. Shaking her head, shaking her head she turned back to Harry. "Okay Harry, I'll see if I can't speak to Albus and try and figure out what is going on. Obviously if Dementors are running loose then something very bad is happening. You try to keep your head down until school starts or someone gets in contact with you. Hopefully Saber can keep you out of trouble in case something like this happens again."
"Right," Harry sighed.
"Stay strong Harry," Mrs. Figg offered as parting words before she began heading back to her cat-populated house.
Harry watched her go before heaving a sigh and looking back to Number 4. He knew that it was time to face the music, or at least his aunt's shrieking.
"Let's get this over with."
Granger Residence
Dan and Emma Granger liked to think that they were rational and tolerant people. They liked to get all of the facts and think things through before they made a decision about things. Granted, for most of the time their daughter had growing up, there were things they couldn't explain. Some events such as when she was a toddler and wanted her favourite teddy bear, it would suddenly pop into her arms. Another event was when she was being bullied by other girls in her class she suddenly vanished and after several hours of searching her school, they found her at home curled up in her bed. Needless to say, they just weren't sure what to make of it, but they adapted as best they could and tried to keep their lives going.
When Minerva McGonagall appeared on their doorstep one day and all but destroyed the Granger's notions of society as they knew it, they felt they took the news pretty well. The Deputy Headmistress calmly explained everything that happened to Hermione in terms of the odd things surrounding her and why. She even guided them through Diagon Alley, Gringotts, and all of the stores they needed to visit in order to get everything Hermione would need in her upcoming schooling. They were a little at odds with how Hermione was going to be missing out on non-magical schooling, but considering how she could have ended up a danger to herself as well as others without proper training they felt it was a good decision.
They still had her doubts when they kept hearing stories of how Hermione wasn't making friends like she had hoped. Then they heard of some of the dangerous things her friend Harry Potter kept getting up to while in school. Hermione vouched for Harry's strength of character over and over, which put to rest any relevant doubts in their minds about the boy. Still, hearing about what amounted to a giant snake attacking the students, a criminal teacher attempting to kill him, a terrorist disguised as a teacher just to get at the boy, and a tournament which had been cancelled due to numerous deaths only for it to be reinstated with little or no new safeguards was completely ridiculous. It seriously brought a number of doubts about the safety of their daughter, especially with the return of this Voldemort fellow who supposedly had made it his mission to remove people like their daughter from magical society simply because she was born to non-magical parents. The only reason they allowed Hermione to continue going to Hogwarts with all of this danger going on was because she was able to learn how to defend herself properly from such people.
Well, that and she could give an excellent argument in any sort of debate.
It was also why they permitted her to research into magic and experiment with potions while she was home. Since she really couldn't use her wand as decreed by magical law, they felt it was safe enough to let her go on her way. When she reported she wanted to try something she found in one of her books in the basement, they gave their permission for it. What they were expecting at the worst was a small bang or a foul smell of some sort from a potion which their daughter may have mucked up in her experiments. What they certainly weren't expecting was the flash of light which came through even their pristine floorboards and the sudden appearance of their daughter's new…friend.
So Emma and Dan were sitting at the living room table with ready-to-serve tea, sitting across from Hermione and her green-clad redheaded friend whom according to the fifteen-year-old she had summoned with the experimentation she had been doing in the basement. Calling himself Archer, he was happily enjoying the tea and making some attempt to calm the two adults' nerves and doing a rather splendid job.
"This is good," Archer complimented the Granger matriarch on her tea. "I never got to enjoy a good drink beyond some ale or water for a long time."
"Um, thank you," Emma nodded. She had to admit that the redhead was quite handsome and had a certain boyish charm which was more than a little enticing. He seemed to exude an aura of relaxation that put everyone in the room at ease, like you could trust this man to help you when you were in need. Despite wanting to grill him about who he was and his intentions towards her daughter, Emma couldn't help but be slightly taken with him.
"So just where did you come from anyway?" asked Dan, not wanting to get sidetracked.
"The Throne of Heroes," Archer replied, pouring himself another cup.
"Throne of Heroes?" asked Hermione, her natural curiosity rearing its head. "What's that?"
"In layman's terms, the place where heroes go when they die," Archer replied, helping himself to some sugar. "There, depending on our deeds and such we are given peace, relaxation, and maybe some new friends we can talk to until such a time we are summoned again for whatever reason. Your daughter just managed to snag me as her Servant."
"So you're some kind of legendary hero then?" asked Emma. "Would we have heard of you?"
"I should think so," Archer smiled. "That's why I'm calling myself Archer right now. Don't want the wrong kinds of people to figure out who I am and find out what I'm capable of."
"You say that like you expect to get into fights," Dan frowned.
"Oh I do," Archer replied, sipping his tea. "You see, if anyone could summon a Servant like me at any time, there would be a whole lot more magi who would be doing it. Sadly, that isn't the case. Only seven people can summon a Servant at a time and when those seven are summoned, a powerful ritual takes place."
"This Holy Grail you mentioned," Hermione answered.
"Yup," Archer nodded. "Basically what happens is; the seven Servants will fight each other until one is left. When that happens, the Holy Grail will appear and grant a wish for the winners. It's a cutthroat free-for-all with no holds barred. There are rules and regulations of course, but basically it's last man standing."
"And what makes you so sure our daughter is involved?" asked Emma, clearly not liking the idea of her daughter having to take part in such an awful competition. "What if someone else tried to summon you and you just ended up appearing in front of her by accident?"
"The Command Spells," Archer replied, settling his cup down. "Master has on her hand a marking which signifies our contract. So long as she holds those markings, she's my Master and thus a participant in the Grail War. Check yourself if you don't believe me."
Hermione flinched slightly when indeed her parents looked to her hand for confirmation to Archer's explanation. Reluctantly, she revealed the back of her right hand which was marked with three glowing arrows which were crossing over one another. Hermione could see her mother wilt under the faint light of the markings while her father grew sterner.
"Just how bad is this supposed war going to get?" asked Dan.
"Bad," Archer replied, no longer looking calm and friendly but rather serious. "Aside from having to keep it all a secret, we Servants have free reign to take out our enemies however we can. We're also empowered by our legends so you can bet that I'm stronger than I was when I was alive and capable of doing things I wasn't able to before. All of us Heroic spirits get that particular perk."
Dan frowned deeply and crossed his arms. This was getting to be too much for him. The whole magic school and becoming a witch thing he could get around with time, but being drafted for a war she had no intention of joining in the first place? Dan wouldn't stand for it. "Is there any way of getting her out of this competition? Can't she give her…Command Seals to someone else?"
"Doesn't work that way as far as I can tell," Archer sighed. "Even if she gave temporary command to someone else, she'd still be my Master, just with someone else acting in her stead as a representative. Sure, she'd probably be a bit safer but it would be harder for me to protect her since I'd have to look out for my temporary Master too. I'm sorry to have to worry you like this, but this is one of those things that when they start up, they're impossible to stop until it's over."
"No, it's better we get through this now rather than find out later when you drag Hermione home half-exhausted from fighting someone like King Arthur or something," Emma sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. "You mentioned there would be six others. Do you know anything about them?"
"Just their Classes I'm afraid," Archer shrugged.
"Classes?" asked Hermione, daring to speak up.
"Basically, the seven ways Servants are grouped together judging by their skill set," Archer explained, helping himself yet another cup of tea. "For example, I'm Archer. That means I'm good at long-range combat and pretty light on my feet if or when the time comes. I've also got some of the best technique among the seven Classes." He paused to take a sip of tea. "Oh, I'm also resistant to magic too. Low level spells won't work on me and it'll take some considerable power to get me with the medium-level things or else I can shrug those off too."
"And the others?" asked Dan, although he did like what he heard of Archer's Class abilities. Dealing with magic made a natural resistance valuable, not to mention he liked the idea of sniping while Archer kept his daughter out of harm's way.
"Well, next there's Rider," Archer continued. "Riders are Heroes who specialize at cavalry-style combat. You know, like the stories of knights who ride in on a white steed and things like that. Only it's not always easy to figure out what they ride sometimes. They could be riding chariots or mythical creatures and we wouldn't know until they bring those things out. "
"That's two," Emma frowned. Two classes and she wals already beginning to feel overwhelmed for her daughter.
"After that is Lancer. For as fast as I could be, Lancers are usually faster. They're specialized for speed fighting and their weapons of choice are spears or lances. Their range is pretty good, but its better suited for close fighting rather than real long range like I can fight. Oh, they can resist magic like I can too."
"I'm almost afraid to ask about the others," Hermione gulped.
"Well I'm going ahead anyway," Archer grinned, taking another sip. "Next is Saber, hailed as one of the greatest classes and obviously the best when it comes to swords. Anyone who takes part in the Grail Wars usually tries to go for Saber first. They're some of the toughest opponents and like me and Lancer, naturally resistant to magic thanks to our Classes. That's sort of what can make summoning Lancer, Archer, or Saber so difficult because they have a high resistance to the magic which is used to summoning them."
"Are all of the Classes able to resist magic?" asked Hermione with some slight fear.
"No, but depending on the Servant it may not matter," Archer answered. "Case in point, Caster. These Servants are the kinds of heroes who used magic as their mean weapon during their lives. Compared to modern magi, these guys are as tough as you can get. They are capable of using spells no one has seen in a long time, much less heard of. They don't have a magical resistance due to their Class, but they know their way around magic so well it probably doesn't matter."
"So three of the seven can resist magic while another can use it on a level of mastery?" asked Dan. "What about the other two?"
"Berserker, probably the worst to go up against but the hardest to control," the redhead replied. "These Servants are heroes who went mad at some point in their lives. They're summoned crazy and their madness enhances their strength and some of their abilities. It can also work against them in some of the more precision-oriented skills but they can get so strong that it doesn't really matter."
"Oh my…" Emma gasped. "You don't think someone like Hercules would qualify, do you?"
"Who?" asked Archer.
"He's a….he's a hero from Greek legend," Emma gulped. "He was the son of the greatest of the Greek gods, Zeus. His legend states that one day he was just driven mad for some reason and killed his family. When he returned to sanity, he saw what he did and begged for redemption. He got it when he completed twelve supposedly impossible tasks."
"If that's the legend, then this Hercules guy will definitely qualify. Hope he wasn't summoned for this War," Archer frowned, making Emma turn pale.
"What's the last one?" asked Dan.
"Assassin," Archer replied. "No clue which hero could qualify for that one, but apparently they are there. They have the ability to conceal their presence from others so it's pretty hard to pin them down unless they show themselves. Even I'd have trouble shooting one unless I had a clear view of the guy. All in all, these guys probably defined the term 'silent killing'."
"No pressure," Hermione gulped.
"Can't really sugar-coat something like this," the redhead sighed.
"Boy is that an understatement," Emma snorted.
"No kidding," Archer snickered. Reaching forward, he grabbed the teapot, but found it empty. Since the Granger's hadn't touched their own cups since Archer had begun his explanation, it was quite obvious who had emptied it. Glancing at the empty teapot, he placed it back down and looked to Emma. "More tea please?"
Lovegood Residence
Luna walked down the stairs and into the kitchen of her home with Caster following obediently. The green armoured knight looked somewhat out of place inside the modest home of the Lovegood family, but considering how Xenophilius and Luna chose to perceive the world and the various beings which may or may not exist in it, he actually fit in quite well with them. Speaking of the esteemed editor of The Quibbler, Xenophilius was having some of his evening tea as he read one of the previous issues of his magazine upside down at the dinner table.
"Hello muffin," Xenophilius greeted his daughter. Glancing up from his magazine, he spotted Caster following his daughter. "Is this your new friend?"
"Yes Daddy," Luna nodded as she approached the table. "Daddy, this is Caster. Caster, this is my Daddy."
"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Caster," Xenophilius greeted, nodding to the knight.
"Sir," Caster replied with his own nod, taking the father and daughter pair's personality quirks in easy stride.
"It's so good to see you making new friends Dear," Xenophilius smiled at his daughter as she and her Servant took a seat at the table. Xeno drew up (literally) a pair of teacups and presented them to the pair. Luna politely took the teapot and drew some tea for the both of them. Taking a cup for herself, she passed one to Caster who seemed content to enjoy the scent for the time being.
"I'm quite surprised that you managed to be summoned Mr Caster," Xenophilius commented from his paper. "My wife tried for many years to find a way to summon if only for a better idea how to reach Akasha. Is your appearance here a sign that a new Grail War is beginning?"
"I'm afraid so, yes," Caster nodded. "One your daughter has officially joined."
"Ah, how exciting," Xenophilius smiled. "Usually the Grail Wars are held in Fuyuki City all the way over in Japan and I'm afraid our travel budgets just don't have the ability to travel that far out these days. Even if we did have the capital, we just never know when one is going to begin. The Mage's Association has been awfully stingy about that information. Having a War occur here in England would be such a surprise for everyone," perking as if an idea came to him, Xeno turned to his daughter. "Moonflower, if you can manage it see if you can't interview some of the other Servants for the War. It's not everyday one meets legendary heroes on the street. Well, not these days anyway."
"I will Daddy," Luna smiled. "Do you think King Arturia was summoned this time?"
Luna nor Xeno really noticed Caster perk slightly at the name.
"I should hope so," Xeno sighed wistfully. "Interviewing her would be such a help to history as we know it. All of the mysteries she could clear up about Merlin and Morgan le Fay would possibly rewrite the history textbooks. I keep telling everyone and showing them the solid evidence that King Arthur was in fact born Arturia Pendragon. However, no one seems quite willing to believe that one of the most powerful kings in all of Britain was a woman. I wonder why."
Caster looked to the side, but the slight shaking of his shoulders told him that he was rather amused.
"They'll come around Daddy," Luna reassured her father.
"One day," Xeno nodded. Sighing to rid himself of doubt, he looked to Caster. "So Mr. Caster, is there anything we should be made aware of about the upcoming Grail War? We're in the middle of a Dark Lord crisis ourselves at the moment and we wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes after all. We must take our turns with our wars."
"I…would say there was an official to mediate the war…" Caster began. "But…the Grail has not alerted me with even a hint."
"Hm, do you think it might be an unsanctioned War?" asked Luna.
"Maybe. How strange," Xeno replied. "Well, if we're going to get to the bottom of this, we're going to have to make like journalists and see what we can learn about the situation."
"I thought that the Ministry didn't want to admit that the Grail War exists since that would mean the Mage's Association managed to take magic to a further level than they had," Luna commented idly with a sip of her tea.
"The Ministry won't admit it, but Unspeakables will," Xeno answered with a dreamy smile. "After all, who would believe that one of them said anything?"
"Oh, how clever," Luna smiled.
Caster merely watched the father and daughter pair interact. They were rather odd, but endearingly so. They took in everything he told them with ease and seemed to have a fair bit of information of their own. They didn't seem to care much for the Grail itself, but rather the chance to meet Heroic Spirits like himself.
"Well then, business aside and all that," Xeno smiled as he set down his magazine. "Are there any adventures you had which you might be able to regale us with Mr. Caster?"
The green knight smiled behind his helmet. Oh yes, he might truly enjoy his time here.
#4 Privet Drive
Harry's return to Number 4 Privet Drive was just about as bad as he had expected it to be. With Dudley just barely returning to consciousness and brought in the door by Harry, his Aunt Petunia unleashed a most horrifying shriek. She was instantly at Dudley's side, pushing Harry aside and fretting over the large boy and constantly asking what had happened. Dudley seemed able to speak, but he didn't say anything to condemn or defend Harry, which seemed to make Harry guilty by default…as usual.
That was when Uncle Vernon came down the stairs and grabbed Harry by the back of the neck, pushing him into the living room with what felt like the force of a train.
"What happened!" the man growled out, his face turning into an interesting shade of red. "What did you do to my boy!"
"It wasn't me! We were attacked by Dementors!" Harry cried out, clawing at Vernon's hand.
"Dementors? What the bloody hell are Dementors?" the walrus-like man bellowed, pushing Harry into the living room where Petunia had placed Dudley onto the couch and was fanning him. Well, the woman had been fanning him until she heard mention of the Azkaban prison guards. Her shocked face distracted Harry for a moment, surprising him that she knew about the creatures.
"I asked you a question boy!" Vernon bellowed, his face turning purple at the edges.
"They're prison guards…" Petunia gasped out, causing Harry and Vernon to freeze. Both of them turned to look at the woman who had a growing look of horror over her face.
"Pet, you know those…Demento-things?" Vernon blinked.
"Dementors," Petunia shivered. "They're…they're prison guards for a place called Azkaban. It's a prison…for them. They…they suck people's souls out. Make them relive their worst memories. My sister…warned me about them…before she disappeared."
It was probably supposed to be scary to an extent and part of Harry's mind hoped that it would relay just how horrible the Dementors really were. However, Vernon quickly grabbed Harry by the lapels of his shirt and yanked him up close.
"You dare bring this FREAKISHNESS to my house?" he bellowed, his facing going absolute crimson from his rage. "Prison guards no less! I knew you were no good! I knew bringing you in would bring nothing but trouble! That's it! I've had enough! I want you and your freakish ways OUT! NOW!" He punctuated the statement by throwing Harry into the main hallway. The fifteen-year old stumbled and tripped across a misshaped floorboard and landed heavily on his back. Vernon didn't seem to care as he advanced on Harry with a bellow which wouldn't have sounded all that off from an enraged bear and his arm rearing back for to Harry was a quite recognizable signal for an approaching slap/punch.
Harry was sure he lost all feeling in his body waiting for the blow to come.
POW!
A punch did land, but it wasn't one that Vernon was aiming at Harry. Instead, it came from a black armoured arm that was floating in the air. Spreading from the shoulder joint was the rest of the body which Harry associated with Saber. The black knight fully materialized on the hardwood floor, lowering his fist. Harry blinked at the sudden appearance before he realized that Vernon had actually been launched down the hall and through the kitchen door from the force of the punch Saber had landed on him. Petunia was already screaming at the sight of the nightmarish knight, almost as if her screams would be able to drive him away from her and Dudley.
"You will not harm my Master," the knight growled, not really caring if Vernon was in any condition to listen to him.
"Saber…" Harry gasped, looking at his Servant.
"I apologize for not dealing with this cretin sooner Master," Saber commented, glancing at Harry over his shoulder. "I would have come to your aid faster, but it seemed you had forgotten to unleash your magic into the bond again."
Harry felt his face heat up slightly, feeling like he had made a rather silly mistake. Saber didn't seem to wait for a reply as he turned his gaze on Petunia and Dudley, the former of which clammed up as the knight's gaze landed on her. The black knight didn't make any threatening moves towards her though. Instead, he decided to speak to her, "Go check on your husband. I am very sure I broke his nose if not his jaw with that one blow."
Petunia gulped and nodded rapidly before she managed to somehow get Dudley back to his feet and race for the kitchen where Vernon had landed. Her sobbing over her husband was quite clear even through the closed doorway of the room. Satisfied that the Dursleys were not going to come near them, Saber finally turned his attention to his Master.
"Are you all right Master?" he asked, approaching Harry.
"Y-yes," Harry nodded. He attempted to stand up, but Saber somehow managed to gently grasp his arm despite the clawed form his gauntlets took before pulling him back onto his feet proper. "Thank-you."
"You are my Master. Your health and safety are my highest concerns," Saber replied.
Harry, easily guessed that he was probably not going to see his relatives for the rest of the night and decided to head for the stairs to his room. He had enough excitement for one night. Seeing no reason to return into his spectral form, Saber followed. The added weight of his body and armour made the stairs creak in protest. Both made their way to the second bedroom where Harry called his private space. It was quite noticeable since it had several locks on the outside of the door and a dog door which the Durseleys had slid food into during his second year when they tried to lock him up so to prevent him from ever going back to Hogwarts again.
Inside the room wasn't much better. It was filled with the toys and such one would have when they were growing up, but not one of them belonged to Harry. All of it was the toys and such that Dudley broke growing up so they just tossed them into this room while Harry had to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs. Every single toy in the room was destroyed in some way shape or form save for the posters on the wall and the books which Dudley had tossed in there since he didn't want them. It had gotten a few of Harry's personal touches since he was allowed to move in be it his trunk, some books from previous years, but the most treasured spot was a loose floorboard which Harry kept his most precious mementoes from his friends. The only other company Harry had was Hedwig, his snow white owl who was currently in her cage, staring at Saber quite sternly.
"It's okay girl. He's with me," Harry sighed, sitting down next to the cage and opening the door so Hedwig could hop onto his arm. As much as Harry wanted to hear from his friends, they never sent Harry a letter nor was Hedwig able to get a reply whenever he tried to send a letter. Hedwig would always come back looking rather irate or insulted. She wouldn't have the letter anymore, but there would be no reply either.
The white owl seemed to take Harry's word for Saber's character and settled down on her perch. Harry was just glad that somebody wasn't overreacting or going insane over Saber's presence. Sighing, he flopped back onto his bed and just started staring at the ceiling.
"Do you always live like this Master?" asked Saber as he examined the room.
"Everyday save for when I'm at school," was the boy's reply.
"Then why stay?"
"Because I don't have anywhere else to go," Harry sighed, turning his head to look at Saber. "Or rather, everyone in the places I could go would just send me back here. Apparently there's some kind of protection over this place that's keeping me safe from anyone in the outside world who wants to hurt me."
"But not from the people within," Saber added. He walked closer to the opposite wall with the rising moon illuminating his dark armour, almost like it was absorbing it. "I sensed the wards when you and the woman led me here. I profess to being no true master in the magical arts, but these wards do not seem to be very good."
"Some days I didn't think so either," Harry sighed. "They're tied to my blood relations or something. I think it's supposed to be powered by how my relatives 'love' me."
"Master, I have seen true love and what those people show is most certainly not it," Saber spoke. "I must admit they have some compassion to take you in and raised you since it seems to me that you are adopted, but compassion can only go so far and it is a very far cry from love."
"Don't I know it," Harry sighed, looking back up to the ceiling. "It seems like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and everyone is just happy to heap more onto me to see if I'll break or solve their problems for them."
"I know the feeling to an extent," Saber nodded, crossing his arms. He looked over to the bed where his young Master seemed to be burrowing into depression. "A friend once told me that it is good to speak about your problems. If it doesn't help bring a new solution, then it would at least a feel a little better to let it out."
Harry had to admit that it was good advice, but more often than not he didn't try to follow it. Harry had grown up more or less independent and wasn't used to having anyone to rely on for his problems. Now that he did, he didn't like burdening them with his problems. Of course lately it seemed that when he did try to get help for his problems he only ended up being disappointed by the result not being as helpful as he hoped or just getting more frustration for it. Still, Saber had literally dropped into his life from nowhere. He would probably not be too great of a help, but he couldn't be any more harmful either.
"I suppose you can say it all started back when I was a baby…"
Malfoy Manor
Lucius sat in his personal sitting room as he pondered the events of the day thus far. A lot had happened to say the least. Einzbern's plan to force the Holy Grail down to Earth was a failure, but in the end what they triggered was another Grail War in England rather than getting the Grail itself. The Dark Lord had summoned the mad Servant Berserker. Just looking at the white-haired madman brought shivers up the hardened Death Eater's spine. Few things could intimidate or scare him, the Dark Lord being among them. However, Berserker managed to force himself onto that list with just a deep look into his eyes. With the plan proving not to be a complete loss, the Dark Lord ordered all of them to make their own summoning arrays and summon the remaining six Servants. Einzbern had summoned Rider, his 'dear' sister-in-law summoned Lancer, and Lucius himself had called forth Assassin.
Lucius had to admit that Assassin was a very fine woman. Were it not for the fact that she could kill him in at least ten different ways, he would have had her service him regularly and often. Oh he could force her to do such with his Command Spells, but he only had three of them and using one for such a frivolous order would no doubt bring about a dire punishment from the Dark Lord. The Command Seals were meant to be used in case of emergencies and using them up would more or less mean death should the Servant not like you.
Assassin did definitely not like Lucius, the Dark Lord, or any of the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters had been in their robes and masks when they summoned their Servants and ever since laying eyes on them, Lucius could feel a glare on him whenever Assassin would turn her eyes towards him. She hid it on a level which Lucius found astonishing, but Lucius was used to people glaring at him behind his back so he knew it was her. Why she disliked him so suddenly, he didn't know nor did he really care. So long as she remembered who was the Master was he really didn't care all that much.
At the moment, he was watching Assassin amuse herself as she waited for an order much like how Lucius was waiting for word with the Dark Lord who was in conference with Einzbern. The black-skinned woman had her back turned to him, showing off her smooth behind and devilishly toned legs. Her hair looked incredibly soft as it brushed against her body as she dipped her head to examine something. When she turned her head slightly, he could see her smooth back and bare shoulders. In fact, the only mar against her beauty he could think of was the skull-like mask she wore at all times and even then she somehow made it look just as alluring, desiring to take her just to take off that mask and see her face beneath.
"Do you like what you see Master?" Assassin asked coyly, her fingers trailing across the mantle of a fireplace while turning her gaze to Lucius.
"Hn," Lucius grunted, ignoring the flirtatious tone in Assassin's voice. Against any other man, Assassin would be playing with them like toys. Lucius knew better though. He knew what she was and what she was capable of. Despite knowing this, despite having a wife and son, despite all of that his body still craved her. His urges demand he go over and turn her into his pleasure slave. Despite all of his knowledge and control, he was finding it most difficult to resist.
"I could truly be yours," she continued. "Just order it."
Lucius grit his teeth and tried to ignore the perspiration on his forehead. He looked to his hand to try and ignore Assassin's voice and body. He let his eyes gaze deeply into the skull like marking which was split into three sections with the right side, left side, and the jaw separated slightly into three different parts. It helped calm his mind and keep his thought away from carnal subjects, especially the teasing and offerings of his Servant. Taking a deep breath, he allowed his posture to reassert itself.
Assassin, seeing that her Master had resisted, dropped her aura of seduction and returned to her more professional and cold stance. Lucius could already hear the words 'your loss' ringing in his ears. He didn't mind too much though. He knew who Assassin truly was and her legend help him remember why he refused her quite blatant advances.
She was one of the 19 leaders of a cult of assassins known as Hassan-I-Sabbah. Muggle and magical alike in during their prime had enough sense to fear them. Their legends were quite numerous, but what made them so terrifying in so many ways was how they managed to execute their targets with such phenomenal ease that it made even experienced wizards gape at what happened. The leaders were supposedly immortal, but Lucius knew better though with most of the leaders being men or perhaps in his Servant's case just well-disguised it would be hard to dispute especially in the days of silly superstition. She was probably one who helped define the word assassin. Lucius knew that cunning and ambition didn't begin to describe one of the Hassan-I-Sabbah. He would have to remain especially sharp lest she find a way to betray him. All she would need was one opening and he would be dead, Command Spells be damned.
As Assassin and Lucius stared at one another, he felt the Dark Mark hidden on his arm begin to burn. He was being called by the Dark Lord. Rising from his chair, Lucius headed for the door to his sitting room, "Come."
"Yes Master."
#4 Privet Drive—Harry's Room
Harry didn't hold anything back. He told Saber about Voldemort, his subsequent abandonment to the Dursleys, discovering magic, and his adventures in Hogwarts. He told Saber about fighting the troll, defeating the challenges for the Sorcerer's Tone, facing Voldemort, the Basilisk, the possessed diary, Sirius, Wormtail, the truth about his parents, the Triwizard Tournament, how the school seemed to turn against him, Voldemort's revival, and finally his all around frustration with Fudge and the Ministry's denying the reality of said return.
Saber patiently listened to everything, not moving from his spot. Listening as Harry talked about his time at the school which became a second home to him. He listened to the things which Harry found amazing and wonderful about it and again listened to the things which drove Harry out of his mind with frustration. Harry knew at times that he was sounding childish while other times he talked about things that a fifteen-year old should not have to worry about. Thick and thin, Saber listened to all of it patiently and without a word to condemn or condone anything Harry had done. It was well into the night by the time Harry's story wound down.
When Harry finished, he waited for some kind of word on Saber's opinion. Even if the knight didn't really have much of an opinion over what had happened in his Master's life, Harry strangely felt much better after telling the story. Maybe the advice Saber's friend had given had some weight to it after all.
After another moment of silence, Saber spoke, "You have led quite an interesting life for one so young. My adventures didn't begin until I was well into manhood."
"I've never been considered normal I guess," Harry smiled weakly. "I just wish there was a way to stop Voldemort now before he starts another war."
"…" Saber remained silent for another moment. "Then it seems fate is weaving an intricate tapestry indeed."
"What do you mean?"
Saber looked up at Harry from where he was leaning against the wall, "Master, surely you can agree that abruptly summoning me is not something usually seen before." Seeing Harry nod, he continued, "That would mean that you summoning me serves a great important in the future ahead and maybe it will involve both this Voldemort and the Holy Grail War."
"What?" Harry blinked, sitting up for the first time. "Holy Grail? You mean THE Holy Grail?" He paused again. "Wait, what war?"
"No, it is just a name," Saber answered. "As for the War, summoning one such as myself is reserved for only seven individuals. The rules state that we will do combat with them and the last one standing will receive the Holy Grail and a wish for anything they desire."
"A…a wish?" Harry blinked. "For anything?"
"Anything," Saber restated.
Harry blinked again. His mind barely registered the war part, but the wish was mainly playing in front of his eyes. If Saber was telling the truth, and Harry had no reason to distrust him this far, then this could be his chance to put an end to Voldemort once and for all before more innocent people like Cedric got killed because of the madman. The War part seemed to be the only snag in the idea, making Harry wonder if he was about to get into another fight for his life. At the very least, it seemed that this time it might have more in it for him than simply stopping the bad guy from getting anything and receiving little to no thanks for his actions. While Harry was by far everything atypical of the definition 'glory hound' he would have appreciated a little more thanks from more people than just his friends every once in a while.
"So…what should I do?" asked Harry.
"I am but a Servant. I exist to follow orders, not give them," Saber answered.
"Then what would you suggest, as someone who knows about this?' Harry pressed.
Before Saber could give any kind of answer, a brown owl quite suddenly fluttered up to the windowsill, apparently as far away from Saber as it could. The bird scanned the room and spotted Harry before fluttering across the air and landing on his bed and sticking its leg out expectantly. Attached to said leg was a brown section of parchment sealed with wax, indicating that it was a letter and likely addressed to Harry.
Confused, Harry untied the letter and let the owl fly away before he opened it himself. Once the parchment was opened, Harry scanned over the words scrawled inside.
Dear Mr. Potter
It has come to our attention that a powerful magical discharge was released inside Little Whinging several hours ago. In accordance, you are hereby under investigation for breaking the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy as well as underage magic use. In accordance with this investigation, you are expected to cooperate fully with any and all investigators during this time.
Your cooperation is highly appreciated
Mafalda Hopkirk
Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office
"Great, just great…" sighed Harry.
"Master, what is wrong?" asked Saber, standing up properly at hearing the tone in his Master's voice.
"I'm basically being investigated for underage magic use outside of Hogwarts," Harry, replied as he reread the letter again. "I guess when I summoned you the magic used was detected and since I'm the only wizard within the area, they want me to 'cooperate'." That was basically saying Harry was guilty before being proven innocent. It was also giving him flashbacks of when Dobby tried to frame him for using magic. Again, he was blamed since he was the only one in Little Whinging who could use magic.
"It was not like you had any choice in the matter, Master," reasoned Saber. "Your life was in danger. I think self-preservation is much more important than obeying a law that would sooner have you killed than defend yourself."
"The world isn't a simple place, Saber," the bespectacled boy replied, dropping the letter. One of the things about the wizarding world he didn't like was the fact that common sense didn't seem to apply when it really needed to. That aside, Fudge was probably personally against him for daring to try and claim Voldemort had returned and that several of the Minister's important friends were in fact still active Death Eaters. "Indeed it isn't, Master. So, what will you do now?" asked Saber.
"Find a way to defend myself, I guess," shrugged Harry. It would be tough though. He had next to no idea how a wizarding investigation was carried out much less a court hearing if it went that far, which he didn't doubt it would. Add to that how obviously biased against him it would be with Fudge at the reins then things were going to get very difficult in the future.
"Perhaps I can assist you," volunteered Saber.
"Hm?" Harry blinked, looking up from his downward spiral of thoughts. "What do you mean Saber?"
Malfoy Manor
Lars sat in his room, looking over the numerous texts he managed to 'liberate' from both the Einzbern Family Library and Clock Tower on the subject of the Grail War. As one of the three founding families of the War, the Einzberns had a lot of knowledge on just how the whole thing started up. Clock Tower's knowledge of the subject wasn't as complete as the Einzberns' was, but it had lots more theoretical work done to it to try and figure out how to replicate it elsewhere besides Fuyuki City. It was all that theory work that the Americans put to use in their own attempts at a Grail War, but they ended up making a mockery with it in the end. Honestly, those incompetents had completely lost the Saber Class save for the Master who would be forced to Summon a Saber during battles, and not all of the Servants were actual heroes. One was Jack the Ripper as Berserker and the other was the fecking Black Death as Rider. And the Americans dared claim they had an official Grail War on their hands? Lars certainly didn't think so.
Right now, Lars was looking into why his Confoundus Ritual failed and instead triggered a new Grail War instead. The Dark Lord wasn't pleased that it failed and got Yaxley killed in the process, but since he still had a chance at the Grail still as one of the Seven Masters, he was willing to let it go. Since Lars was the only expert they had on the Grail Wars, he was allowed to still be alive without even torture since Yaxley's sacrifice brought out Berserker. An unexpected reprieve from a man not known for his restraint or his control over his temper, but Lars was certainly not going to complain about it. Still, he had to figure out even if the Grail War was won, where would it appear? It wouldn't do if the Dark Lord won the entire war but missed out on the Holy Grail because it appeared in muggle London and used up by some homeless piece of trash.
"Can we kill anything yet Master?" Rider's echoing voice sounded out from behind Lars.
The bastard Einzbern turned and glanced at the hooded Servant that was leaning against the far wall examining his sword like he hadn't just asked for bloodshed. It was the Servant's actions that made Lars doubt that he had gotten the strict line of what defined 'Hero' down properly since he had never heard of a Heroic Spirit being so bloodthirsty. Okay, so Anti-Heroes were allowed into the Throne of Heroes too, but the only kinds he had heard about were from the 5th War such as Medusa or Medea. They weren't bloodthirsty per say, but definitely not known for heroic deeds. They were more known for doing horrific things in the name of good…sometimes.
"We're not fighting yet Rider," Lars frowned. "Control yourself."
"My collection is gathering dust. My sword craves blood," Rider retorted. "Do not make me wait for very long."
"You will do as you are told Servant!" Lars snapped back. "Know your place!"
Lars could feel the glare from his Servant from across the room. Still, the bastard Einzbern kept his cool. He had read the reports of previous Wars which Clock Tower managed to throw together from those who managed to survive. He knew that some Servants could be unruly and if the Masters had a weaker will, they could very well become the ones manipulated by the those they were supposed to be in control of.
"Only if you remember yours," Rider spoke back in a most ominous tone. The statement was punctuated by him running his fingers across his blade. Lars knew from his time growing up in the Einzbern family that he was being threatened. Still, Lars also knew that so long as he had the Command Spells, he would be safe but he would also have to be incredibly careful on how to use them if or when the situation which warranted them came up. It seemed that Rider already didn't like him and without protection, would cut him down if he could.
Just another day in the life of Lars Von Einzbern.
#4 Privet Drive
"Stupefy!"
Harry was out of bed in a flash. He had just gotten to sleep after Saber told him of an idea he had in regards to the investigation Harry was about to be put through. Now he was suddenly under attack as someone began casting spells. Rolling away from his door and dropping to the side of his bed, Harry grapped his glasses and slapped them onto his face, preparing to face whoever it was that was attacking him…
SMASH!
"Bloody hell!" a female voice cried out.
Harry blinked, suddenly realizing that he wasn't alone in the room in the first place. Looking over to where Saber was seated while he slept, Harry saw that his black knight was missing. Daring to poke his head over the bed, he saw that the door frame of his room was effectively broken like something bigger than it had forced its way through rather than squeezing itself in. Across from his room, the railing which would protect people from falling over was missing, broken clean off. Down on the ground floor, spellfire was going off as Harry heard a number of jinxes and other disabling curses. Judging from the cries of those below, they weren't working all that well either.
Cautiously walking towards his door, Harry peered out to see what the bloody hell was going on and actually discovered a familiar face leaning over the rail, apparently trying to curse something down below, "Mr. Weasley?"
"Harry?" the redheaded father of seven blinked, glancing to see The-Boy-Who-Lived. "Oh thank Merlin you're all right! Just stay back! We'll deal with this!"
Under normal circumstances, Harry may have obeyed if it seemed that things were in hand. However, the bespectacled boy also knew that Saber was likely in the middle of all of it and likely might not stop until everyone was down. So, he ran up to the railing and looked down to the main hall. Sure enough, Saber was approaching a pair of people Harry had never seen before. One was a man who seemed rather ordinary looking save for his foreign appearance while the other was a woman with shocking pink hair. Both of them were sending several curses, jinxes, and other spells but no matter what they cast, all of the spells were just bouncing off of Saber's steel armour.
Behind Saber and clearly unconscious on the ground was none other than Alastor Moody, the retired auror who had been hailed as one of the best. Harry was quite willing to guess that Moody must have taken one look at Saber and decided that he was a possible threat and moved to stun him so they could interrogate him. It certainly fit with the man's paranoid tendancies. Saber quite obviously didn't aim to go quietly and was aiming to eliminate everyone so to protect Harry.
"Saber, stop!" Harry called down to the black knight.
Saber did indeed stop and glanced up to his Master, but keeping the two wizards in his sights, "Master, these assassins came for unknown reasons. They snuck inside the house before one tried to incapacitate me. I am eliminating a threat to your life."
"I know two of them!" Harry retorted. "The one who attacked you thought you were a threat to me! They aren't assassins!"
Saber glanced back at the pair in front of him, making both flinch as they felt his stare on them. Seeing that the situation was calm for the time being, Harry walked past Mr. Weasley and down the stairs so to approach his Servant.
"Harry, step away from that…thing!" said Mr. Weasley cautiously, following the young man.
"It's alright, Mr. Weasley," said Harry calmly. "Saber here is…harmless." Well, as harmless as a knight in dark armor could get. This was like déjà vu all over again when he told Mrs. Figg that Saber was his Servant and that he'd summoned him. "Saber, please stand down."
"As you wish, Master," said Saber obediently but he still kept his guard up.
"Harry, what's going on?" asked Mr. Weasley, confused. "Who is that and why did he call you 'Master'?"
"Mr. Weasley, a lot has happened," Harry answered with a weak grin.
A/N: Well, I felt like writing up a second chapter for this since I was particularly inspired by the concept. This is a progression of events as well as some of the activities of the participants as well as their interactions with their Servants. Obviously, some are having an easier time of it than others. Also, seems like the Lovegoods have stumbled onto a supposedly hidden truth which no one was supposed to know.
