A/N

Who supported Cullen will be clarified in this chapter. I hope you'll like the solution (no, it's not Lady Hogwarts).

This chapter will concentrate on Cullen's experiences in the new world, the differences and similarities with his own.

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A Year's End

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Hogwarts – Room of Requirements

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"Do you actually need to use words?" Harry asked while they recovered from the last round of training. "I mean: you sometimes kind of only mumble them, especially when you're distracted; and your gestures with the sword are a bit lazy then too."

"You're very observant, Harry," Cullen acknowledged. Since his arrival he had taken a liking to the boy and he now understood far better how he had been able to induce such a feeling of loyalty and trust in his friends. Harry was a natural born leader – without realizing it himself.

They had spent the last three hours in this weird room, alternatively training and recovering, with Cullen switching targets as often as possible. It was exhausting, both for him and for them. He had to seriously thank them later. It couldn't be pleasant for them to get hit time after time while he learned to control his altered powers in this different world. He had to be careful while using them. That boy – Malfoy – had been knocked out cold for twelve hours. After that he needed another twenty-four hours to fully regain his magic – more or less. There had been… scars. Cullen could feel them, the scars left on Malfoy's core. They would time to heal. His wrath attack was far more serious here than back in Thedas. Instead of a blunt fist, it was like swinging a mace meant to break bones. Yes, he was thankful for the assistance of Harry and his friends. They had allowed him to use his powers on them, slowly increasing the might of the attacks, to get a feeling of how much he could use safely.

"To answer your question: no, I don't. It was more for dramatics that I used words in the Great Hall, I have to admit. Back in my world, other Templars use words to enhance their focus. It's the same with the sword gestures." Cullen tensed for a second before he, still sitting, without making a single gesture or a whispered word, hit Harry with a low-powered Smite. "See? But even for me it's easier with gestures and words. It reduces the amount of energy and concentration it requires. The same accounts for our mages, by the way. They use staves instead of your tiny wands, but only because it makes casting stronger spells easier. It enhances their range and duration, but unlike your kind they aren't helpless without them."

"There is wandless magic too," Harry responded. "And wordless magic." He sighed. "However, it's very hard to learn, it seems. Hermione can use a bit of wandless moving objects around, like calling her wand into her hand though."

"Certainly a very useful ability." Harry nodded. Cullen narrowed his eyes: "have you spoken with her, yet?"

Harry nodded again, this time accompanied by a little sigh. "I have. She…" He grinned. "She hit me… on the head."

Cullen reciprocated the grin, looking far younger this way. "Let me guess: you said something stupid." Harry grimaced. "You told her something along the line 'it was all my fault'."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You already know me too well. I hope you'll never get together with her. It would be awful, no secrets anymore." There was a hint of tension in his voice. Cullen wondered if Harry had a crush on his bushy-haired friend and feared to get competition. Cullen had visited Hermione twice, but only out of medical interest. He wanted to ascertain that his curse cleaning had worked perfectly. To his relief all had been well. A thin white scar would remain but it was nothing when compared to the ugly one the girl would have had without his intervention. Despite all their healing abilities, the mages of this world seemed to lack in this regard.

"Don't fear." Cullen responded. For a moment his eyes went to Luna who was whispering with Neville a few steps away. Harry frowned for a moment before he had his face under control again. He wasn't certain how he felt about the foreigner being interested in Luna. He was kind of old. It was like back in fourth year seeing Hermione with Viktor Krum. Luna's crush was obvious, even for him, which meant everybody would notice. I'll keep this in mind.

While Harry was pondering about Luna, Cullen had something completely different on his mind. These magical teenagers were completely different to the ones he had got to know back at the Circle Tower. Or were they simply how young wizards and witches happened to be without Templars around, without being told fifteen times a day how worthless they were and how dangerous? Harry was a true hero, Hermione a sage in the best way; Neville was a paragon of a steadfast friend and Luna… Luna was special in the best way, without a single bad or malicious bone in her small body. Could all young magical be like them, normal? Cullen sighed. On the other hand Lucy Malfoy and those disgusting dung heaps he called friends were proof of how dangerous mages could be. They felt superior to non-magical beings and in a way they were, especially in this world with the non-magicals completely unaware of their existence.

Everything in him yelled: warn them, tell them and help them protect themselves. With a single sentence he could change this world forever – change and perhaps destroy. Cullen shook his head. No, he couldn't do that. He had to give them a chance. His eyes settled down on Luna again: someone like her would simply wither away in the Circle, imprisoned and forced to never fulfil her dreams. How many Lunas had died in the Circle already?

"Alright," Cullen thundered. "Time to continue."

Neville groaned but complied. He was still a tad uneasy about meeting his grandma and telling her about his father's broken wand. This training was a good distraction – if somewhat painful.

"I want to train on something different now: using my area abilities while exempting one of you." Harry and his friends thought about it and slowly nodded. That sounded very useful. "Let's begin."

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Hospital Wing

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"YOU!"

Cullen whirled around from his conversation with Madam Pomfrey. Since his arrival he was visiting her once a day to get examined. He realized that she shared the results with the headmaster, something he didn't appreciate. However, he needed to know if there were any changes about him. So far nothing had happened, the results were the same as with his first scan. Now he was face to face with one of the most beautiful women he ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on. She was in her thirties, perhaps forty with the slower aging of the mages in this world. She had the bearing and stance of a noble-woman like he had only seen at the Landthing – the gathering of nobles back home. He had visited it once, belonging to Commander Gregoire's entourage. Back then he had felt like a little clumsy boy. It was the same now.

He bowed slightly: "Milady."

This stopped her cold for a second and allowed Madam Pomfrey to introduce her. "This is Lady Narcissa Malfoy." Poppy eyed her warily. She had known Narcissa for decades and always regretted that she had been forced into that arranged marriage, prohibiting her from following her own dreams. In pureblood society it simply wasn't acceptable for a woman to work. It wasn't by accident that most successful women – like Minerva or Amelia – were single or had been searching a long time until they found a man agreeable to their plans.

"I assumed as much. I saw your picture in the Daily Prophet." He had actually seen a picture about her visiting her husband in jail. This tiny detail he hadn't to add right now, as it certainly wouldn't enhance her mood. "It certainly didn't do your beauty justice."

Poppy shook her head in amusement and Narcissa narrowed her eyes, her anger for a moment forgotten. While the words were gallant, his stance and voice made it clear that Cullen wasn't actually used to this kind of conversation. To be honest, he felt a little stupid using them and his ears turned a tad pink. It was something he had heard among the lovey-dovey mages at the Circle; they were words he had prepared to tell her without ever gathering the courage to actually pronounce them. He was only able to use them now without stuttering because he wasn't actually interested in this woman. She was certainly beautiful, but in his mind it was the beauty of a queen, not of a woman. Instead his mind was running a mile a second on how to treat her, how to use this moment to his best advantage.

"This young man," Poppy gestured towards Cullen "is Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Steward of Hogwarts." Not that Narcissa needed the introduction. The daily Prophet had been full of articles about him, containing all kind of rumours about him and his background as not much was known for certain.

"A pleasure," Narcissa offered her hand and Cullen executed a hand kiss. Execute was the right term because it was his first one and accordingly awkward it turned out. However, both women were slightly amused by the attempt. In Narcissa's case, however, it didn't last long, because she remembered the reason of her stay and why she had been angry.

"Because of you my son lost his magic," she growled.

"I'll leave you alone for a moment. Try not to get too loud," Poppy said and Cullen nodded farewell.

"It was only temporary," Cullen raised his hand to stop her interjection. "He already got his magic back and he'll be fully healed before the end of the term." Which was only in three days, Cullen had learned. He continued, very serious and a bit grave. "He will be alright far sooner than I would have been, recovering from getting hit with the spell he attempted to use on me."

Narcissa paled a bit and gulped. This conversation wasn't going like she had expected. "I was told he only tried to stun you."

"That was the first time. He actually hit me with the spell before he got his second warning – he and all other participants of the fight – in the middle of the Great Hall under the eyes of the whole staff, may I add."

"Not his cleverest moment," Narcissa admitted with a low voice. Not that she was surprised. Her son had always lacked in subtlety.

"I supposed not, but he's young." Cullen shrugged. After a small sigh he continued: "his second attack was far more serious. He used a spell on me that felt very dark. I reacted instinctively if a bit harsh."

"He would never…" Narcissa hesitated. Wouldn't he? Lucius had taught her son many spells she didn't appreciate.

"He wasn't able to finish the incantation, but it started with Messor…"

"Messorius," Narcissa paled and felt her knees buckling. Hastily Cullen supported her, his hand under her elbow, and led her to a seat. Narcissa had to brush away a few tears and blink strongly. She knew the spell well enough, had learned it herself from her parents. Cullen was right: it was a dark spell, a vicious variant to the not actually harmless cutting curse. This spell could kill, or at the very least cripple, its target. The use of it earned the caster a three-month stay in Azkaban even if it hadn't actually caused damage to the target.

"I didn't know," she whispered, feeling anger rising again, this time directed at her husband.

Cullen watched her closely. From her first look he knew what she thought about him – a non-wizard. In a way she certainly shared those opinions about "wizards are the better humans" but he had the impression that she was a caring mother too. Perhaps here was a way to help her son before it was too late. "I know about your husband – his service to Voldemort and what he did at the Ministry."

"Lies," Narcissa growled, not very convincing. It was more out of habit. She had to defend her husband more and more these days. It got exhausting slowly.

"Please," Cullen growled back. He had stood face to face with a beyond furious Commander Gregoire; this woman had nothing on him. "This is a conversation between us. I won't tell anyone." She still had doubts in her eyes. It lasted until Cullen raised his right hand: "I swear on Andraste and the Maker that I won't tell anyone about this conversation. What we exchange here and now will stay between us."

It wasn't a wizard's oath, not even a wand oath. Narcissa had no idea who this Andraste was and if this Maker was the same God those Christians believed in, but she sensed how serious this young man was about it and slowly nodded. "I accept your word."

Cullen bowed slightly, smiling inwardly about the irony of the situation. Here he was, trying to help a mage-mother and a mage-child avoid a situation that was, in his opinion, worse than death. Using this kind of magic would lose them their souls. Due to the spells Narcissa had learned, it would already raise suspicions towards her. She would be watched very closely and, at the slightest sign of her using that kind of magic, would be made tranquil along with her son. Here was another possibility, perhaps a better one. Perhaps not; he had to try, to wait and see.

Tranquil – Cullen's mind went back to the Circle Tower, back to the inhabitants and especially those among them that were called Tranquils. It had such a nice ring, hadn't it? He's calm. He's content. He's tranquil. Their bland voices, completely devoid of any emotion sent shudders down his spine. Cullen accepted that it was a necessary solution and sometimes an appropriate punishment but it was inhuman too. To make a mage tranquil, to cut his connection to the magic around him, had been a solution to the dangers of possession through demons if the mage wasn't strong-willed enough to protect himself. However, it did far more than only turn a mage into an unmagical being: it destroyed his ability to feel. It burned out any emotion, any own will to live. Perhaps the sacrifice was too big. Perhaps there could be another solution if he found a way to teach others his new-found abilities to burn magic in others. And if he found a way back. (1)

"There will be war," Cullen deadpanned. That she accepted his oath was a good sign, wasn't it? "War between wizards of all kind, between old families and – how do call them: Muggleborns. There will be a vicious war with many victims. Wives will lose their husbands and mothers their sons on both sides."

Cullen made full use of his voice, the voice Ginny had adored on their first meeting already. He captured Narcissa's heart with his voice and she had to fight back tears as her mind imagined pictures of those victims, asking who would die in this war. He was right, she knew. There would be war. People would die. She had accepted months ago that Lucius wouldn't survive this time. The Dark Lord was even more vicious than last time, less patient and far easier to anger. She struggled hard to suppress a sob, thinking about losing her Drakey too.

"I've seen your husband at the Ministry." Narcissa looked up from her terrible thoughts. "He had a dark aura around him. He used a large amount of dark magic in his life and he has this," he gestured towards his arm "this mark that binds him to his master."

Narcissa paled. How could he know?

"You don't have the same: no mark and your aura – while showing you learned spells you shouldn't have – proves that you don't use them, at least not regularly."

He is right, Narcissa shuddered. She hadn't taken the mark so far. The Dark Lord hadn't forced her to take it so far, simply because he underestimated her abilities – which were, to be honest, not nearly on par with those of her sister Bellatrix.

Cullen gestured towards Draco: "he doesn't have the mark either." Narcissa flinched for a second as she thought about the Dark Lord's plans. He had been incredible furious about Lucius' failure and had been pondering about ways to punish the Malfoy family. One of the ideas had been to force Draco to take the Mark right now, right this summer. Bella had told her, not actually realizing the harm it could do, seeing only the honour about receiving it.

Cullen's voice turned softer: "he shouldn't follow in his father's footsteps. I've spoken with him. Draco isn't evil. He is a spoilt brat without manners and far too eager to hurt others with words. But he's not vicious. I'm certain that after hitting me with that spell, he would have been the first one to puke on his shoes. He is only a frightened boy trying to please his father. The path of the killer is the wrong choice, Lady Narcissa. To become one to please his father is even worse. You'll regret for the rest of your life allowing it to happen. It will break him."

Narcissa was completely silent for a long time. Poppy came and left again after a short sign from Cullen. He watched her the whole time, his patience being trained by endless night vigilances. He fetched her a glass of water and she thankfully accepted it, trusting that he hadn't added any potion or poison. Only then did she speak again, her voice laced with concern and despair.

"I don't know how to protect him."

"It wouldn't be easy. You would certainly be forced to leave many things behind. You would lose most of your friends, I assume. It's your choice, what is more important to you: your life or his life."

Her look towards her son made it obvious how she would choose – not now but perhaps later, hopefully not too late.

"I don't know where to go," she whispered.

"Hogwarts will always protect you."

Narcissa flinched. "The Headmaster would certainly demand…"

"This has nothing to do with the headmaster. This is between you, me and Lady Hogwarts. Think about it and when you're ready, Hogwarts will be awaiting you."

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Interlude – a dream

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"Who made you Hogwarts peacekeeper?"

"I did."

The voice was calm but somehow dominating the Great Hall like no voice should have been able to. The speaker was a house-elf, older than any the students had ever seen. Her skin was wrinkled but her eyes betrayed a sharp intelligence. More than one student hastily glanced towards the staff table and back to compare this apparition with Professor McGonagall. A dozen more house-elves had arrived with her, the two standing at her side armed with a frying pan and a long kitchen knife. The sight would have been funny without their deadly serious faces. House-elves shouldn't be allowed to look this serious and threatening.

The bearing of Professor Snape instantly changed. His face softened and his lips cracked into a smile – if anybody would believe Snape was physically able to smile. "Matron Mathilda," he greeted with a bow.

"Hello Sevvy," the wrinkled face softened a little bit.

"Don't call me that," Snape scowled, glaring at the students who dared to snicker.

"Fiddlesticks," Matron Mathilda waved him of. "I called you Sevvy twenty years ago and I won't start changing it now."

Snape's scowl deepened but he knew better than to squabble about it. In truth he respected her more than most wizards. She had been one of the few inhabitants of Hogwarts who had actually tried to help him in his youth. In the end, it hadn't been enough but he appreciated the gesture. And, contrary to most others – even Lily – she hadn't turned her back on him after his stupid decision. He wasn't a nice man and certainly hadn't many good sides, but Mathilda was able to see them.

Matron Mathilda turned around and took a long look at the young man in front of her: "you've been the one scaring poor Winky."

"I'm still sorry about that, Matron Mathilda," Cullen bowed. "I've never seen elves like you before, so I was a bit… surprised." He gestured towards Luna who was watching the whole scene with a dreamy smile. "Miss Lovegood already explained me your duties at Hogwarts. It is very honourable work."

"Ah, Miss Lovegood," Mathilda waved to her and got a wave in return, prompting some snickers and looney calls, which caused Cullen to glare towards the Ravenclaw table. The concerned students shrank back. They did it even more as he snarled: "Miss Lovegood risked her life to save mine a few days ago. She's therefore under my protection."

"And under that of the house-elves of Hogwarts," Mathilda calmly added, causing more than a bit of concern among students and teachers. House-elves rarely took sides and nobody in his right mind wanted to be on their bad side. A lot calmer Mathilda stated: "You're already forgiven, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Steward of Hogwarts."

Cullen narrowed his eyes. Steward of Hogwarts? "Matron Mathilda…"

To his disgust and Mathilda's annoyance they were interrupted by none other then Headmaster Albus too-many-names Dumbledore. "Matron Mathilda, there isn't such a position as a Steward of Hogwarts."

"You are wrong there, Headmaster," Mathilda snarled back. Cullen watched the exchange with a tiny grin. He liked her; he liked even more that she wasn't happy with the headmaster. He even had an idea about the reasons, especially after a few talks with Harry and his friends. "After the founding of Hogwarts, the four founders saw to it that the school turned into a secure haven of living and learning for the students of Great Britain, as Steward Cullen stated quite correctly. To ascertain this, they created a small force of defenders under the command of the Steward of Hogwarts. For hundreds of years they served and protected Hogwarts and were only disbanded in the seventeenth century when a former Headmaster tried to abuse them to strong-arm him into the position of Minister of Magic."

"Alright," Headmaster Dumbledore admitted with his grandfather face, not impressing Mathilda one bit. "Perhaps there has been a Steward in the past. Today however, it is the headmaster's job to secure safety at Hogwarts and…"

"Something at which you failed miserably," Mathilda cut him short. "Five years ago you allowed a troll to enter Hogwarts. It is only because of young Misters Potter and Weasley that Miss Granger didn't die. You used a Cerberus to guard an object that had no reason to be here in the first place."

"I only did a favour to a close friend," Dumbledore tried to placate her. "It was completely safe."

Mathilda only glared and didn't honour this nonsense with a response. "Four years ago a Basilisk was on the loose for months, endangering many students. It was poor dumb luck that they were 'only' petrified. Why did it have to be a student solving that riddle instead of a teacher ? Why did it have to be another student killing that beast in the stead of the "responsible" adults?"

"It was complicated," Albus fidgeted. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation…"

"Right here and now." Can a house-elf actually growl? More than one student wondered. This one obviously could. "Three years ago, Dementors were stationed around Hogwarts… Dementors… have you been completely out of your mind?" Mathilda actually screeched now, prompting Dumbledore to shrink back as the students had done from Cullen's glare.

"Apparently it's worse than I thought," Cullen muttered, loud enough to be heard by Mathilda.

"You have no idea." Mathilda narrowed her eyes: "I don't have to say anything about the tournament, do I? Setting students against dragons and other dangerous creatures, putting students into magical sleep and putting them under water as a task – without getting their consent or that of their parents," the last words were bellowed, an impressive task regarding the small chest of the tiny house-elf. "And this year…" Mathilda sneered and more than one onlooker wondered if Snape had gotten lessons from her in sneering. "You didn't stop this Ministry bitch from threatening students and teachers alike."

"That's not my fault," Albus interjected, struggling to regain a modicum of control of this conversation. "The Ministry…"

"The Headmaster isn't currently leading this school," Mathilda screeched. "It's however your duty and if you're not able to do that anymore, perhaps it's time for a new headmaster." Albus looked a bit ill now. Everybody watched as the old matron walked towards the Gryffindor table. "Give me your hand," she ordered young Colin Creevey. Hesitantly he complied and flinched as Mathilda showed his hand around, a flick of her magic allowing everybody to see the scars from the blood quill. "This is your work, Headmaster. You allowed bullies," she glared towards the Slytherin table and even pureblood arrogance didn't help overcome the burst of natural fear her angry eyes caused "to rampage through the school. You allowed bullying," she glanced towards Luna and a few others "mocking and insulting, especially towards Muggleborn, to be tolerated."

"I can't be everywhere, Mathilda," Albus again tried to placate the irate house-elf, again to no avail.

This time she showed her sweetest smile. "I know, headmaster. That's the reason we want to help you." Turning deathly serious again she continued: "for years we've waited for someone able and willing to change things. We think Cullen is the right man for the job. Because of this," she snapped her fingers and a small package appeared in her hands, some kind of cloth apparently "we offer you the position of Hogwarts' Steward. Do you accept?"

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Hogwarts Express

Something roused Cullen from his slumber. He needed a few moments to actually leave the dream behind – a memory actually. Cullen had only known Mathilda for a few days but he already adored her for her strength of character and her dedication to the school and its inhabitants. While he trusted Professor Flitwick, Madam Sprout and Madam Pomfrey, it was only Mathilda whom he believed to always stay on the students' side, even against the Headmaster. Dumbledore had tried to stop her from bestowing this new-old position for a long time, declared that she didn't have the right. It only ended when Matron Mathilda, obviously getting annoyed with his resistance, growled "try me."

So, he was Steward of Hogwarts now. Cullen glanced down to the book in his lap he had been reading before falling asleep. It belonged to a number of books he got from Mathilda before his departure. He was accompanying the students on their way back, wearing some really strange clothes – Muggle clothes, Hermione had explained. Even she didn't know about the scabbard he wore on his left forearm. It looked like a sheath for a dagger. The content however was his usual sword, only enchanted by Mathilda herself to shrink and enlarge on command. Harry had told him about Lucius Malfoy and his cane – that according to rumours contained an epee. Swords however weren't in use anymore, especially among Muggles and he intended to spend some time among them.

Someone chuckled and Cullen looked up to see six pairs of eyes watching him with amusement. Ginny had enlarged the compartment to allow him to sit with them and for Hermione to lie down. Poppy had demanded that she took it easy for a while before allowing Hermione to leave the school. Cullen was still a tad uncertain about this incidental use of magic but it had its uses, he had to admit.

"You looked cute, drooling on your book," Harry mocked.

"I don't drool," Cullen glared.

"You do," Luna voiced. "But you're cute."

Cullen blushed but didn't deny it anymore. Luckily Hermione changed the topic. "You know, I would kill for the chance to lay my hands on those books?"

She had uttered something along that line before and it spoke volumes of her bibliophile side. Apparently these books – books about the history of Hogwarts and traditions in times long past – weren't even possible to find in the restricted area of the library anymore. After the dissolving of the "Hogwarts Defenders" the house-elves had stored them away – against the wishes of the new headmaster back then who wanted them destroyed, erasing any memories of that part of Hogwarts' history.

"I'm certain you'll get them some day," she smiled for a moment "as soon as you change your behaviour." Hermione blinked, her friends frowned. "They aren't happy with you right now, you know?"

"But why?" Hermione whined. A look into the faces of Harry and Neville told Cullen that they knew.

"Ask your friends. It's their duty to tell you the truth, even if it hurts." He didn't want to hurt her, but she had to know. She wanted to help, but her actions of the past had alienated the house-elves.

Hermione looked around and noticed, like Cullen, that Harry and Neville were hiding something from her. "Tell me…" She demanded hoarsely.

.

"That was nice," Luna said, shortly pressing his hand. She didn't let go and Cullen didn't object.

"Then why do I feel like an insensitive ass?"

Luna actually giggled. "It will help her. She'll find another way to help them, this time a better way."

Hermione was sleeping again, feeling exhausted after her heated discussion with Harry and Neville. After Harry had explained the affair with the hats and socks for the house-elves – how only Dobby had dared to visit the tower anymore because the rest feared her over eagerness – Neville had spoken about the bond between house-elves and magical families, how they needed the bond to survive, how much they liked to serve because it made them happy too. It was something a well-meaning Muggleborn couldn't know.

"The house-elves of Hogwarts are happy, Hermione. They served the castle for hundreds of years. There are others serving bad families, but house-elves don't want to be free, they want caring families at most. Dobby was an exception and even he bounded with Harry as soon as possible." Harry had flinched under Hermione's glare but confirmed the statement.

"It is wonderful that you want to help them, Hermione," Cullen had declared to lighten her mood as the girl was obviously depressed. "I hope you continue to better the lives of all humans, beings and creatures. Your friends will certainly support you." The others eagerly nodded, Ron only after Ginny kicked his shin. He had returned from St. Mungo's two days before and apparently wasn't certain what to think about the strange man. "However, you first have to learn about them, speak with them, and read some books to learn how to do it the right way."

"Wonderful," Ron rolled his eyes "someone actually encouraging Hermione's book mania."

That Hermione threw her pillow in his direction showed that Cullen had been successful in his endeavour. "Perhaps you should speak with Winky," Cullen suggested. "Harry told me how unhappy she was after her former master gave her clothes. She's far better now since Luna bonding with her." Hermione shortly glared at her blond friend – which Luna patiently ignored – before she sighed: "perhaps you're right."

.

Platform nine and three quarters

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"Where will you stay, Cullen?" Neville asked as the group trotted down the platform. They had left Ginny and Ron with the twins and their parents, after they greeted them and Cullen got to know them. He especially had an eye on the twins – certainly appropriate after Harry's stories about their pranks. The short meeting went smoothly as both twins seemed to be somewhat frightened by his presence or at least unnerved.

"Steward Cullen will stay with us, Neville." Neville whirled around and stared wide-eyed at the imposing figure of Augusta Longbottom. "Hello grandma," he gulped. "You already know each other?"

"I met him as a member of the board of governors," she explained. "Greetings, Steward Cullen."

"Greetings, Lady Augusta. Thank you again for your hospitality." He gestured towards a young woman waiting a few steps apart. She had blonde hairs today instead of her usual lime green or violet and wore Muggle clothes. "I have some errands to do first. Auror Tonks will accompany me." Cullen had only seen a picture of her until now, but Sirius had told him that he completely trusted her. Needing someone to take him around in this strange world, this was enough for now.

"I understand. Neville and I have an errand to do as well – we have a wand to buy."

Neville gulped. "You know about… ?"

"I told your Lady Augusta about the fight and mentioned the broken wand." Neville's tension lessened a bit. He had been afraid to tell her about this. Her knowing already would make it easier – he hoped.

"Steward Cullen told me how you defended Miss Granger while she was unconscious. Your father would have been proud of you." She curtly nodded towards Cullen and departed. Neville certainly walked taller than before as he followed her down the platform.

.

If Cullen noticed the stares, he didn't show. There had been enough rumours and articles about him to assure an enhanced interest in the weird man wearing Muggle clothes. More than one family was whispering about him as he accompanied Harry and Hermione down the platform. Hermione felt Harry tense as her parents came in view. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. They will understand."

He smiled bravely, not completely convinced, and watched how Hermione enthusiastically greeted her parents. She must have flinched a bit because of her wound, but Cullen stopped any questions. "I'm Cullen Rutherford, Steward of Hogwarts. If you are agreeable, I'll accompany you to your home and explain everything. I'll have to examine Hermione's injury and tell you how to treat it this summer in any case."

The Grangers accepted, her father's look clearly telling that he wanted answers. Hermione fidgeted a bit and hastily hugged Harry farewell, before following the adults.

When will I see you again? Harry wondered, before he turned around with a sigh and left the platform to have a look for his dear uncle Vernon. What a wonderful summer this will be, he groaned silently. Can't wait to see my prison again.

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House Granger

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"I can't believe it."

Benjamin Granger was sitting in his small study together with Cullen and a half empty bottle of Single malt. They had been there for hours, his anger rising higher and higher as he watched Cullen examine the long scar on his daughter's chest. It didn't help that Hermione explained that it was far better now. Ben was thankful that this young man had been able to mostly prevent an ugly scar but was still furious that his daughter had been in a fight at all.

"Yeah, too bad that your daughter is brave and loyal, isn't it," Cullen mocked lightly. "A selfish coward certainly would make things easier for her parents."

Ben glared but got the message. "So this Harry…"

"I don't know," Cullen sighed, sensing the real question. "They feel at least like siblings towards each other, perhaps more. Whatever you decide: don't make her chose between him and you. It may be that you wouldn't like the result."

"Blasted," Ben put his glass down with a tad too much force and filled it again.

"She's happy there," Cullen explained, continuing despite Ben's frown. "Magic is an important side of her, something you can't take away. I understand the difficulty, I really do. In my home country I more than once had to take a magical child away from his or her family as we don't allow mages to live freely. It's different here, perhaps better." It was one of the things Cullen had spent hours thinking about. If he ever got home, he wasn't certain that he could accept things as they were in Thedas anymore. "But far more importantly: she'll be in danger simply because she is a talented Muggleborn. She is everything the old families hate and fear. Most of all however, she'll never betray her friendship to Harry and the others."

"I know," Ben groaned. "She got that from her mother." He rolled his eyes but actually smiled. "It's something I loved about her from the first day I met her."

"She needs your support and unconditional love. Hermione fears that you'll take her away from her new life. She could use someone to speak about everything. It's not healthy to bottle this up. I won't trivialise this: Hermione nearly died there. She'll have nightmares this summer, I'm sure. But it won't stop her. Help her as much as you can. Speak with Harry, your ears and mind wide open. He's a wonderful boy and he cares much about her."

"How much?" Ben growled.

Cullen grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised to get an invitation to their wedding one day. But that's only a speculation. They're too much dancing around each other right now for them to realize that." His grin deepened: "don't hurt him too much at your first meeting."

"I'll try but I can't promise anything."

.

"Can this house be protected? Like Hogwarts I mean?"

They had left the manor and intended to make their next visit, as Cullen had stopped Tonks to ponder about something. He looked around, allowed his senses to feel around. This house felt… good. Hermione and her parents would need a while to agree to disagree about Hogwarts and everything, but Cullen had no doubt that they would find a way in the end.

Tonks shrugged. "Not as well as Hogwarts. Hogwarts has been warded for centuries by some of the mightiest wizards and witches alive. The magic of its students is empowering and strengthening the wards even today. However, there are so-called curse-breakers at Gringotts. They should be able put some wards on this house."

Cullen nodded deep in thoughts. "Why wasn't it done already? Hermione has been one of Harry's best friend for years and those Death Eaters have been after Harry even longer. It makes sense that they could try to harm both through an attack on this house, don't you think?"

Tonks nodded slowly. "I agree. We should ask Sirius about it."

"Alright, let's go."

.

Grimmault Place

.

"You know, Harry asked me the same thing after Voldemort's return one year ago. He was worried that Voldy would go after Hermione and her family, wanted to protect her."

Cullen waved him off, as Sirius offered a glass of Firewhiskey. He still felt a bit light-headed because of Ben Granger's single malt. The three of them were sitting together in Sirius' salon, with two other members of the Black family. Andromeda Tonks reminded him very much of her crazy sister, at least physically, and Cullen actually went for his sword as he first saw her. However, a few minutes together were all he needed to realize how different they were. Andy Tonks was nothing like her older sister. She had been deeply moved as he told her about Narcissa's visit and her younger sister's inner struggle. "I'll help her if I can," she had promised.

The last occupant of the salon was one Marius Black. Sirius had explained how Marius Black the older, the grandfather of this young man and Sirius Great-uncle, had been expulsed from the family because he was a squib, disowned for being a dishonour to the proud House of Black. It reminded him far too much of what happened to magical children in Thedas not to be moved by the story. One reason of their presence was Sirius' determination to get them back into the folds of the Black family. As Head of the house, Sirius could do this – as soon as his little legal problems were solved.

Cullen leaned back in his seat. He didn't feel comfortable in this room – or this house. It was creepy and too much like his last hours in the Circle tower. While the Granger home spoke of love, good dreams and hope, this house felt wrong, completely wrong. He was certain that more than one murder had happened here. The nights were certainly filled with nightmares and he wouldn't be surprised if ghosts haunted its corridors. While the layer separating this world and the Fade had been calm and strong at Granger manor, here it was restless and stretched to breaking point. The darkness was overwhelming. It was everywhere and dripped into the souls of its inhabitants. The differences between the auras of four Black family members were disturbing and least partially caused by this house, Cullen was certain.

Marius was a pure soul. There was not a hint of dark magic about his aura. Tonks and her mother were similar to Narcissa, if on a lower scale. Cullen assumed that Andromeda had, like her sister, learned dark magic from her parents but never used it. Tonks certainly had been forced to learn things in her job she never wanted to see. His own aura was like hers, white but with speckles of experience. Sirius Black however was dripping with dark magic. It was nearly as bad as Professor Snape – without the Dark mark – however it dripped in a different direction mostly. He certainly, like Andromeda and Narcissa, had learned dark magic in his youth. Like Tonks he had experienced even worse growing up and living the life of a warrior. What truly disturbed however, was the amount of darkness that slowly encroached his heart and soul now. Cullen had heard about Sirius' time in Azkaban. It had to be as bad as Aeonar and after that time he should be living somewhere else. Certainly not in this manor, this gathering point of dark emotions.

Cullen sighed. "And why…"

"Apparently there are legal issues."

Cullen groaned. He heard that excuse far too often from Gregoire and Irving in the past. "Let me guess: Dumbledore."

Sirius nodded gravely, while Tonks looked up. She belonged to the Order – like Sirius. Unlike Sirius she adored the Headmaster very much, perhaps too much even. Until the events at the Ministry and the words of Matron Mathilda about his wrongdoings, she would never have believed Albus could do anything wrong. Now she was more cautious, still struggling to process the news. "Her parents are Muggles. Apparently there is a law about Muggles houses that prohibits warding them. The same applies to underage Muggleborn."

"So, the Grangers can't even sign over the house to their daughter?" Tonks asked, glancing towards Cullen who was browsing a book he pulled from his back.

"No, they can't."

Cullen seemed to be content about his finding as he looked up. "What about their magical guardian?"

Sirius frowned. "I don't know. Do they have one?"

Cullen pointed towards the pertaining paragraph. Sirius frown deepened: "Minnie is their magical guardian?"

"I remember," Tonks nodded. "Madam Sprout was magical guardian for the Muggleborn of our house … if they didn't have one," she added after a moment deep in thoughts.

"Minnie could have done this. She could have allowed Gringotts to ward the Grangers' house. Albus must have known… the old bastard."

"Why should he…" Tonks started, uncertain if she really wanted to know.

"More interesting," Cullen interjected "is the question: what do we do now?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Andromeda," Cullen deadpanned.

"Sorry, Cullen," Andromeda smiled, her expression telling the other Black that she was a tad mischievous right now. "I'm not interested and you're too young."

Cullen blushed deeply, to the endless amusement of Sirius and Andromeda. He was so mature about most things but still so naïve in others. It was truly refreshing.

After a healthy amount of chuckles, Sirius continued the conversation. "What about Andromeda?"

Cullen coughed and avoided to look in Andromeda's direction. "The Grangers need a magical guardian, one without connections to the Ministry or Hogwarts. Tonks has connections to both, Marius… sorry but I had the impression that Squibs face some legal problems as well."

Marius nodded. "I can't be a magical guardian."

Cullen continued: "Sirius has his very own legal problems. Harry told me about that Pettigrew." He stopped shortly as he noticed Sirius' deep growl. "Until we catch him, you can neither invite the others" he made a roundabout gesture, "back into your family nor be a magical guardian."

"This leaves Andromeda," Sirius agreed.

"It would solve her ward problems, but isn't that a bit too much?" Andromeda frowned. "I would do it, I heard so many good things about her, but…"

"It would be helpful in other matters as well," Cullen explained. "Her parents weren't informed when Hermione got petrified in her second years." The story had enraged Cullen on a whole new level. Luckily he had been a dozen floors apart from the Headmaster when Mathilda explained the details. "The headmaster never asked her parents if they allowed her to be taken as a hostage during the second task. He did nothing when Muggleborns were tortured with blood quills this year. Most of those things could have been prevented with a magical guardian."

Andromeda agreed whole-heartedly. She had heard rumours about those events, but until now hadn't been certain if they were true or greatly exaggerated.

"Last but not least: she could really use your help." Cullen smiled softly. "Miss Granger is a wonderful young woman with wonderful dreams. However, she lacks knowledge of the magical world. She could use a… a mentor, a female friend experienced in this world. Else will she fail hopelessly. Tell her about this world, explain to her the inner workings and the magic behind, things like that magical bond between house-elves and wizards, things she needs to know to survive and prosper in this world. Help her turn into the kind of woman she could become."

.

Cullen was content so far. Andromeda had given her consent to the plan. Tomorrow she would visit the Grangers and arrange everything. Tonks had agreed to accompany Cullen to the Dursleys in a few days. Now he only had one other problem on his mind. He didn't know that Sirius would offer him a solution right now.

"When you entered this world, Cullen, your arrival had a very special side effect: you saved my life."

Cullen frowned and wanted to interrupt but Sirius continued. "I would have died going through the Veil of Death, I'm certain. Your timely arrival prevented that. You put yourself in danger, stepping into the middle of a fight, if unknowingly."

"You're welcome," Cullen tried to lighten the mood as he didn't want to get thanks for something he never intended to do. To be honest, he mostly wanted to forget the experience of staying in the Fade for weeks.

"You don't understand;" Sirius sighed. "My magic… it accepted that you saved my life while endangering yours. Irrespective of what you feel and think about it, my magic is certain: I owe you a life debt."

"That's the other reason we're here today, Cullen," Andromeda added softly. "A wizard is able to feel such a debt. It's like a deep seated urge to protect you, to obey you. It will continue until the debt has been settled."

Cullen opened and closed his mouth a few times. He had never heard of something like this. Was it the same with the mages on Thedas? He had heard about a few very close and trusting friendships between mages and Templars. Until now he had assumed it was simply coincidence but perhaps a life debt had been in play there too, at least for some of them. "And how do we solve this little problem? Do you want to hang around until you have a chance to save me?"

Sirius grinned: "possible but not too simple, not with me bound to this house." Cullen looked very thoughtful. "What?" Sirius asked.

"What could I ask in return?" Cullen asked slyly. "What are the limits?"

"More or less anything," Sirius shrugged, uncertain where this was going. "Money, an oath of alliance," he grinned mischievously "the hand of Tonks."

"You could certainly try," Tonks growled under the chuckles of Andy and Sirius. Cullen looked at her like actually pondering the idea. "Nah, don't think so," he rejected the offer in the end.

"What do you mean… nah?" Tonks watched him through narrowed eyes. Only Sirius saw the similarity to her mother's humour. "Don't you fancy me?"

"It's not…" Cullen fidgeted on his seat. "You're bad, all of you." For a while he pouted with everybody mocking him. In the end he stopped them with his surprising demand: "this house. I want this house."

"This house?" Sirius' eyes widened funnily. "What do you want with this disgusting peace of shit?"

"So you don't love your parents' home?" Cullen grinned. This got easier than expected: "no sweet memories?"

"Merlin, no. But still: what do you want to do with it? Live in it?"

"Andraste, no." Cullen got serious again. "Tear it down, I want to tear it down… completely. I want to cleanse the area of the dark magic lingering here. I want to salt the earth and annihilate the last hint of it. And I want you out of this house." His voice turning softer he tried to explain: "this house is full of dark magic, Sirius. I can feel several concentrations of it and the whole aura is disturbing. I'm certain you have nightmares almost every night." A single glance in Sirius' eyes told him he was right. "This house is destroying your soul. It is corrupting your mind and heart. How many of your family members died young or got mad while living here?"

"Many, far too many," Sirius admitted. His father had died fifty years before his time and his mother…

"It's, at least in part, due to this house. You should never have been forced to live here again. This house is unnatural and shouldn't be allowed to exist. Allow me to cleanse this place. Leave this house and allow your soul to heal, and your life debt will be settled."

.

A/N

Next time: visit the Dursleys and a Horcrux or two.

(1) Tranquil is the word used for the magical lobotomy used in Cullen's home.