Harry Potter
The Founders Four
By JadedofMara
The Founders Four
Chapter Three: A Matter of Arithmancy
The walk to the Headmaster's office was a short one from the central courtyard. Indeed, one could oftentimes look up from the south-eastern corner of the yard and see the Headmaster pacing his study, of lost in thought behind his large oak desk.
On that evening, however, anyone attempting to peer into the Headmaster's private rooms would have been greeted with a very shocking sight.
Three of the four strangers who had appeared seemingly out of thin air in the courtyard were now lounged in various chairs all across the room, each toying with a lemon drop given to them by the Headmaster. Their animals were either near or with them, and the green-clothed wizard was engaged in a hissing conversation with his snake. Only the witch in blue and bronze, her gyrfalcon perched on her shoulder, stood, and this she did with hands spread wide on the Headmaster's desk, leaning over the ornately carved piece of oak in animated conversation with the aged wizard. The Headmaster himself had a large sheaf of parchment before him, much of which was covered in the tiny purple markings of his phoenix feather quill.
"I obviously haven't had time to work out the particulars," the woman was saying excitedly, watching the Headmaster as he feverishly scribbled on his parchment. "But I think that—with the combination of the simple, though strong, Darkness of the Kedavra, and the equally straightforward neutrality of Expelliarmus against the complex impartiality of Priori Incantatem and the intricate variables of the inherently Light-oriented brother Phoenix wands—my theory might actually have some weight, at least with the Arithmancical community."
"Indeed it would," said the Headmaster, frowning at the parchment beneath his hands. "Provided, of course, that you take into account the breaking of the Incantatem by three powerful forces, rather than one, factor out the common Perfect Articles, assuming there are some, and adjust the equation for partisanship." He paused for a moment, staring fixedly at the equation. "Yes!" he said finally, his blue eyes lighting up. "Do you know, I think this will work!"
The Headmaster rolled up his sheaf of parchment and turned to the magnificent Phoenix which stood on the perch beside his desk. "Take this to Professor Vector-Black, will you, Fawkes?"
The Phoenix snatched the parchment and disappeared in a flash of golden flame. The Headmaster turned back to the four friends and their familiars. The woman in blue had taken a seat, and she and the others now sat attentively across the desk from him.
"All right," said the Headmaster. "You've convinced me. It is entirely possible that you may be from another version of this planet. Now if you will please inform me why you thought it so imperative for me to hear you out on that score before explaining your situation? (Although I did quite enjoy that Arithmancy; it is by far the most interesting equation I have ever seen)"
Taking her cue from the pointed glances of her friends, the woman in blue leveled her gaze at the old man. "Headmaster," she said quietly. "You know that, according to the laws of magic discovered by Merlin and laid down in the Book, it is impossible for anything to correspond with another at the same magical harmonium. If this occurs, the two—or more—objects will cancel each other out." At the Headmaster's nod, she continued. "You assumed earlier that we are the Founders. That is only partially true. We are not from the past in any way, shape or form."
The Headmaster frowned, the ends of the woman's statement not quite matching up in his mind. The woman leant across the table and looked him straight in the eye.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she said very quietly. "Do you believe in the reincarnation of souls?"