The final grouping for this short work is what we shall call the Near wards. That is to say, enchantments that are similar enough in function as to be mistaken for true wards, but are not in the same classical definition as we know it.
Classic definitions of wards can be found in any textbook. Typical forms go back to the pre-Roman adaptations, in the Greek Thérmansi kai yperáspisi tou Spitioú, (Warming and Defending the Home) lessons. Herein we find: Wards are the occurrence of engravings upon the firmament, granting the blessing of the humors in the aether to that of Gaia's domain.
Rephrased in modern terms: Wards are a magic requiring physical interaction with a grounded element, in order to bring focus of thaumic (also defined as 'magical') power in a coherent and organized fashion.
However, there is clear evidence for traditional magics that provide similar benefits without requiring a physical element. Many high-priced specialists will construct wards without laying new stones or carving lines on domiciles Yet these other constructs perform functions identical to that of official Wards. Like that first Carolingian ruler Pepin the Short once wondered: if the king no longer possesses power, should he remain king? Brought to relevance, if such engravings are no longer needed, why should the title remain in the one practice's domain?
In answer, there are no true wards possible without at least some physical aspect. A high-level wardmaster is capable of modifying, improving, or even rewriting a currently existing wardscheme, but without some form of permanence the effect evaporates. Some few wizards have advanced the art of forming impressions without use of stylus or tablet to a nigh art form, enabling an almost mystical ability to create defenses out of apparently nothing (see Writing Without Letters, a study of the Impression Masters, by The Patron of Us). In reality, their magic seeks out hard stones at appropriate locations, impresses the desired runes upon them, and creates the necessary connection.
This practice of creating wards without wardstones remains a subset of Warding proper. But there are other methods that mimic wards without earning the title.
The Fidelius Charm is one of these near-wards. While requiring a massive amount of intricate power manipulation, and a deep comprehension of exotic arithmancy, the end result is concealment from all who seek out a position. The better known the place, the more difficult the charm. Hiding a small rock takes, by comparison, almost no effort in comparison to concealing a Family Manor.
Certain aspects of the Fidelius are similar to wards. It protects a physical location, incorporates a form of Source and Focus aspects, and can be energized again and again without loss of effectiveness.
The non-ward characteristics are more striking. There is no physical aspect to the Fidelius. If the Secret Keeper were to expire or reveal the location, there would be no feedback reaction. The Secret Keeper could choose to reside within the hidden place, but unless non-human interaction could periodically reduce the impact, it would drive him or her insane (see: Knowing the Unknown, by Lady Aichsdotter, 1634). In addition, the interaction of magic and the protection is of two widely different fields: wards gather power from their surroundings, needing only a small 'spark' as it were from the caster. The Fidelius requires a massive quantity of power from the caster, and then slowly adds to that power throughout its existence, absorbing it from the initial caster.
For these reasons the Fidelius is rarely used in modern times. A constant, if minor, reduction in available power is perceived as too close to sacrificial magics banned by treaty (see: Unmentionables, by Dewey Wana Gother, 1899), and its permanence far too reliant on a single individual's whims.
A focus on rendering a specific chunk of geography invisible and unknowable brings us to the Unplottable Ward.
Unplottable wards are, in fact, neither Unplottable nor wards. A better description would be a Forgetfulness Plinth.
Historically, there have always been places designed to be Unplottable. Since the beginning of time, jealousy and covetousness have plagued mankind. It is little wonder how various cultures developed their own variations of the enchantment.
Of particular note to European history are the multiple Unseelie records. Muggle thought reduces this complex hierarchy to fairy tales and legends, not realizing the vast history rooted in what they deem 'fanciful tales.' It is true there are non-human Courts, and those political entities still exist out of touch with the rest of reality. However, it is important to note that provenanced findings reveals the great Merlin as being a member of the Unseelie, and the infamous Morgana a frequent participant in various Court functions.
These various Courts once held sway over much of Europe until the early 1500s. The Winter Court claimed parts of Denmark, Scandinavia and Poland, while the Summer Court occupied large swaths of Gaul, Brittania and southwest Europe.
Each Court made its own rules regarding interaction with what they termed 'Outsiders', and a great portion dealt with remaining Unplottable.
According to Thoughts on the Past by Ronald McGonagall (12th Ed., 1772), "… our path twisted verily'round the great trees as the Great Road wot. Such fantastic sights did I see 'ere stopping for the night that I did beat my manservant for adding mushrooms to mine fare. The greatest surprise came when upon retiring for the non I did search my map for the valley through wich I had passed, and it were not there (sic)."
The work goes on to explain: "… and a most curious folk didst enter mine camp after the moon was risen. 'twas only through the great cunning of our enchantments that we did see them, and glad was my heart that we did pay the uncouth folk (goblins) their blood money (reference to religious texts rather than blood sacrifice - Editor). For the evil repute for which these Unseelie are known is well-earned; their invasion did cleave a path straight to milady's chambers where the twins didst slumber. Straightaway we raised the hue and cry, and I slew two of the leaf-eared folk even as they sought to overwhelm the wards I did place in fear of such a fate."
Key points to take from these excerpts are this:
A traveling party entered an unknown forest, despite being equipped with maps. Cartography was a well-established art even by muggles at this time, which shows there had to be a way to render entire forests from records – ergo Unplottable similitudes.
The Unseelie identified here are called 'leaf-eared', an Old English affection for Elvish folk, and were infamous for being both hard to see and kidnappers of children (see: Impotence and the Great Works of the Summer Court, by Murray Tylerson, and Fate of the Fae, by Jacob the Black, 1812). The Summer Court especially was fond of being unseen, whilst the Winter Court preferred a method that gave a 'sporting chance' to their potential victims (see: Games of the Northern Fae, by Onov Demriley, date unknown)
Continuing, we must address Blood Wards.
Blood Wards were once a part of the Ward definition. Their construction, which shall be covered for educational purposes alone, is almost identical to that of the standard ward. A key difference is that the individual creating the ward must be spiritually or biologically close to the area under protection. Another key difference is that instead of using silver, gold or even mithril in quenching the runic inscription, the creator must use blood.
(Note: the following is for educational purposes only, and as such is exempt from the 1701 ICW Sanguine Sanction H-392)
Deriving power from blood is perhaps the oldest magic in existence. The most ancient sorceries claimed 'Life is in the blood' (cited in: Sanguis Magia, by Nigrum Dominus, 115 BC), and a truer statement has never been written. All sacrifice is of life, whether it be taking time to help a friend write a paper or intercepting a spell with your own body. Many others have written this in far better phrases, but the summation can be derived as thus: Sacrifice is the greatest power in existence.
Certain spells change from effective to devastating with the addition of a single drop of blood. It is a primal energy, untamed and irrevocable. To use it in the past was a means of survival, a place where strength to defend superseded what drawbacks might make such stratagems unpalatable.
Usage of blood in wards was once a popular practice. All of the Old Families in England still use a form of Blood Magic in their Heir rituals, and the oldest Manors as a rule are protected by wards erected before the Sanction of 1701. As wards only grow more powerful as time progresses, only a fool would attempt breaching their defenses. Gringotts of the Goblins, the Floating City of Ayers Collective and the Forbidden City all continue to use these practices despite international law, and as such are either fully or partially under Interdiction. No one may enter or leave unregulated sections at any time, and entire fortunes have been spent creating safe zones where individuals may visit the handful of regulated localities.
In conclusion, whether creating defenses for homes or improving the quality of life, wards are an assured answer. What we can learn from history shows we must continue building upon what is known; a ward is only the superlative defense so long as it remains intact. We look forward to seeing what new defenses will be made in the creative genius of the next generation!