Ouroboros

by Novus Ars

Salazar Slytherin woke up in the body of a three year old boy with the most ridiculous head of black hair & a runic scar craved into his forehead. The last thing he recalled was dying. Now it is over 900 years in the future. There are a million things to deal with between new inventions, lost knowledge, missing spirits, & parasitic dark lords. (multi-povs. Unreliable narrator. AU)

30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

oooP1ooo

(Harry)

Pre-dawn glowed off the thin layer of snow on the Gryffindor manor grounds. The ocean could be seen in the far distance on one side, a streak of blue against a dark gray sky, and some of the village with clouds of smoke rising from the various chimneys on another side. His brother grumbled quietly in the background as he slowly got ready. They needed to head to Hogwarts. It was Christmas and she was waiting for them. He could literally feel her attention through the bond.

It had been a long night with Cassiopeia. Moving this early was a drag. While the walk from the village to the manor was pleasant, they needed to connect the Gryffindor Manor to the floo. Trudging all the way back here after everything yesterday had been exhausting.

Salazar leaned his cheek against the cold glass of one of the many glass walls of the conservatory and sighed as his thoughts inevitably turned to the utter mess Arcturus made. After everything they had set up with the contract, it had still spread beyond the involved parties. Hannah now knew. The Blacks either knew or would soon. It was only a matter of time before it would spread.

He shifted to press his forehead against the soothingly cold glass instead. He should have just taken Godric's original idea: broken into the prison and ripped Black's mind to pieces as he pulled out the needed information. If he had, he wouldn't have had to deal with another child knowing the truth. He wouldn't have had to deal with House Black. Maybe he would have even avoided the Malfoy Ball too.

"Stop mopping. It's done with," Godric grumbled, pulling Salazar's gaze from the wintery scenery. Godric stuffed the last of his things into Salazar's satchel. "If it's the dancing lessons, I had to go through them too. Just when I was eight. And I certainly didn't have a gorgeous woman as my dance partner."

Salazar scoffed, "She's three times our age—physical age."

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view," Godric stated back.

"Really?"

Godric shrugged. "At least I don't feel like a pedophile. Obviously, the physical age difference is an issue—and gods we're not talking about this." His brother grimaced as he seemed to realize what they were talking about.

"I wasn't the one who brought it up," muttered Salazar as he picked up his satchel and led the way out.

Godric caught up after a moment as he pulled his hat on. "So…Floo to Hogsmeade and walk to Hogwarts?"

The brunet made a face and grumbled as he stuck his hands into his coat pocket, "We need to set up the floo. Or I should build a mirror door from here to Hogwarts."

His brother stilled at the remark. Salazar glanced back at Godric when he didn't hear the crunch of snow underfoot. The Gryffindor's hazel gaze gleamed with excitement. "Absolutely. What needs to be changed to allow a longer distant connection? Or would one work as is now?"

"If we do this, we should set it up for multi-to-multi destination which complicates things," Salazar offered as they headed out into the snow, "The original mirror pairs I created are each tied to very small spatial side dimensions enchanted for the short walkway, you're literally stepping into a pocket dimension when you step into a mirror. Very similar to what Rowena did with the hidden passages…"

He frowned thoughtfully as he considered what would be needed to expand the concept. "To do multi-to-multi, we would need a pocket dimension that had more than two openings and magic to…uh–" He looked up at the cloudy, still dark sky as he rambled. "–spin…yes, spin. We'd need it to spin the dimension so that the correct exit is in front of the person."

"Maybe we should test it out at Hogwarts before expanding the distance between mirrors?" Godric remarked thoughtfully, "Having the dimensional entrance stand before another dimension that spins to give different exits could allow multi-to-multi as long as no one attempts to exit through the same mirror."

Salazar hummed in thought and noodled over the idea as they tracked down the large hill, past the quietly rumbling shore, and down to the village. It was a peaceful, though cold, walk.

He wrinkled his nose at the thought of the floo. It was a nauseating experience he could do without. Whatever they came up with needed to be as different from the floo as possible and the spinning of the dimension made him think of the spinning of the floo network.

"Frankly, this sounds like the Floo except with it we're thrown into the middle of the dimension that spins all the exits until the one you want is freed up for you to exit through," Salazar complained before he paused and groaned. They had just figured out how the floo worked. The powder was likely a mixture to connect the traveler to the flow network and their desired exit.

Godric snorted out a laugh that carried through the silent little village. Salazar couldn't help but smile, both pleased at the sound after everything and reminded of similar mornings where the two bounced off ideas. It was these moments that had him forget how changed their lives were.

Knowing how the floo worked only made him grumpier using it. There had to be a better way. He groused, "If only there was a grove here about. We could just connect it to one of Hogwart's groves. The one in Hogsmeade would be the best…"

Godric glanced over at him with a raised brow. "Doesn't setting that up take at least two druids?... And doesn't that defeat the entire purpose of keeping the groves secret to help protect the wards?"

"You have the potential to be a druid if you'd like to learn," Salazar countered, "but yes, that is an issue…One I don't know is avoidable. The agreement with House Black will require a grove after all."

"Don't you have one near your relatives, though?"

Salazar paused as they reached the public floo and stared at Godric.

"What?" asked his brother as he slowed to a stop also.

"You want me to have these purebloods meet me in a muggle playground?" Salazar asked, incredulous.

Godric grimaced. "Nevermind."

Hogsmeade was as quiet but darker and more thoroughly blanketed in snow than Godric's Hollow. Stars still lit the sky. The village's main street was also vibrantly, magically decorated for the holidays with fairy lights in cheerful colors gleaming like tiny stars of their own, and shining off tinsel and snow. Only the sound of their boots crunching into the snow filled the space between them as they walked in companionable silence.

His brother made no jabs about giant spiders as they headed past the Hog's Head and the dilapidated little shack just beyond it to vanish into the forbidden forest. It was a peaceful trek around the perimeter of the inner wall until they reached the escape route he had hidden away. When they climbed in, they shared a look of amusement.

The bond with Hogwarts was thrumming through Salazar. It appeared to be the same for Godric. Their school's avatar didn't materialize before them, though. Instead, a tugging sensation filtered through the bond.

They shared another look before they followed where they were being pulled. At the end of the hidden hall, they stepped past the basilisk statue and headed to the hidden stairs to the suite of rooms Salazar had recently renovated.

"Merry, Merry Christmas!" shouted Hogwarts as she bounced in place, arms spread out over her head and stretched as if to emphasize the very, very brightly decorated sitting room.

There was gold, silver, red, green, blue, and yellow garland everywhere. The coffee table was overflowing with breakfast and dessert. Omorose lay in a cushy bed by the fire, her kittens playing nearby. Alfred sat on the fireplace mantel where he could see everything and feel included. Helena floated slightly separated from the rest and smiled uncertainty at them both.

Salazar smiled down at Hogwarts and greeted back, "Merry Christmas, Hogwarts."

She pounced at him and claimed a hug before doing the same to Godric.

Salazar dropped his satchel onto one of the chairs and walked over to Helena. "Niece."

"Uncle," Helena hesitated before offering another weak smile and said, "Merry Christmas?"

"Merry Christmas,' he agreed softly before grumbling out, "Next year will be Yule."

A true smile bloomed across her transparent features. "I'd like to be there for that. A Yule with my uncles after all these years."

"A proper Yule takes multiple days to celebrate!" Hogwarts stated with more bounces, "You both will have to stay at home next year to have a proper one!"

Home. Salazar smiled down at her at the thought. Seeing all the ruins and Godric's ridiculous manor had made him think about where his home would be after school. The Hufflepuff House didn't live at Hogwarts and neither had the Gryffindor House but they were the literal founders. Who could tell them they couldn't stay in the castle they had built?

"Then we'll stay," Godric agreed.

Hogwarts cheered, arms flying up toward the sky, "Yes!"

"So," Salazar glanced around at all the odd family before him, silently acknowledging that Alfred was part of it as much as the House elves that weren't there and all the people that had passed a thousand years ago. He asked as his gaze turned back to the apparent child in the room, "Food or presents first?"

"PRESENTS!"

The two founders tag-teamed pulling all the packages from the satchel. Hogwarts stood at their side and watched. She went a little bug-eyed by the number of wrapped gifts he and Godric pulled from his satchel. The pile was obscenely large once he saw it all out.

"Well," Salazar paused and then offered as he rubbed the back of his neck, "This is for all the centuries we missed. Next year will be for a single year so it will be only a few gifts. Understand?" He wasn't certain what he claimed would end up true in the end but if Hogwarts was a little like the child she appeared it would hopefully set expectations if it was true.

Hogwarts nodded, gaze still stuck on the pile.

Godric coughed and, when the cough didn't pull her gaze, lightly touched her shoulder. Her silver gaze slowly pulled away from the gifts to stare at Gryffindor. He held out a small box and said, "You asked for a surprise. Sally asked me to get that since he's gotten all the pranks."

She took the box and carefully unwrapped it, her expression intent as she undid the tape without ripping the wrapping.

Salazar raised an eyebrow at that, suddenly knowing how the morning was going to pass. While Hogwart opened the smallest of her gifts as slowly as possible, he pulled out two not wrapped items from his satchel and handed the first to Godric—who shot an annoyed look at him but accepted the wool scarf of gold and deep red—and offered the other to Helena.

It was a thick book about the history of the Library of Alexandria. She stared at it.

"You'll be able to hold it and read it without any of the implements I built." Salazar quietly explained even as Hogwarts cried out in awed thanks to Godric.

The book was out of his hands an instant later.

Hogwarts claimed his attention to show the golden necklace and pendant with her shield emblazon across it. The four animals were gold like the pendant and necklace but had jeweled eyes with their primary colors depicted. On the back of the pendant was the school motto about never tickling a sleeping dragon. (He suspected by her awe that it would end up being her favorite gift.—Not that that was surprising.)

The two eleven-year-olds lounged lazily on the couch and munched at the food as the little girl methodically unwrapped the mountain of pranks. They lost Helena to her book.

Eventually, as the morning slowly turned toward afternoon, a pop-click pulled them from their laziness. Mipsy skipped over to Salazar and dropped a lumpy wrapped present onto the couch at his side. "Heads master ordered it be delivered before he ran off."

"Ran off?" Godric asked in confusion as Salazar sat up and pulled the letter off the package. "Ran off where? It's Christmas?!"

"He's not been here much," Hogwarts explained as she paused in her careful unwrapping. "Something happened that had him check on that silly stone you destroyed. When he couldn't find it, he panicked and sent lots and lots of letters. All he does when he's here is send letters or try to sleep."

"But he be gone most days," Mipsy agreed.

Alfred announced from the mantel, "He had flooed an Arabella to ask about you, Master Salazar. And he ordered the potion master to hunt down you, Master Godric…do I need to return?"

Mipsy shook her head in a negative. "He came, order the gift giving, and then ran."

"This belonged to my father?" Salazar interrupted in surprise as he read the letter.

"Should you be holding that?" Godric asked in turn, "It could be cursed."

Salazar shrugged as he looked up at his brother. "I don't feel anything wrong with it."

Godric looked entirely unimpressed. "Do you have to touch things to tell if they're cursed? Because I sense something counterintuitive with this ability of yours if that's the case."

He stared at Gryffindor, unable to deny that. He supposed he should skip curse-breaking as an optional career this time around. He'd be too inclined to touch things to feel what the magic was like, even if he knew it was probably cursed.

Salazar frowned and then shrugged at Godric before he turned back to the gift.

Godric groaned but Salazar ignored him.

The ribbon wrapped around the lumpy present pulled apart with ease and the wrapping fell open. Silvery fabric tumbled toward the ground. He snapped a hand out on instinct and caught the edge of it before it entirely fell.

Magic exploded across his senses: Softest fluff of a lamb and puffs of warm air that condensed into clouds on cold days. Fog obscuring visions, muffling sound.

He struggled against the magic as it fogged his senses. A foggy tingle of fluffy sensation soothed his mind toward a sleepy state and had him float away toward lazy contentment.

Once he pulled past the sensory knowledge—and it felt like an age passed before he did so—the greatest fact that hit him was age. The second was that it was a cloak.

This cloak was nearly as old as Hogwarts. Or maybe it was a little older. He couldn't say for certain. The age of it sat heavily on his shoulders, like a particularly thick wool blanket.

Intricate enchantments weaved through his senses. He couldn't untangle it all, he couldn't follow all the details. There were too many layers and weaves across it all for him to understand instantly. Salazar was no master enchanter and this was a master enchanter's masterwork—the pinnacle of a master's ability placed within a single article.

Every master worked towards such a creation. Most never succeeded.

What he could tell after delving into the first layer was twofold. It would only work fully for blood relatives of the original creator, which was a normal aspect of masterworks. No foreign magic could easily tie itself to the artifact meaning Dumbledore had not been able to place tracking and other spellwork onto it but he had tried. Salazar could taste the faded lemon of failed spells Dumbledore had attempted to place on the cloak.

Godric pulled the cloak out of his hands.

Salazar snapped his gaze up to Godric. Godric had stood up at some point.—When had Godric stood up?—His brother stood over him with a frown of worry directed down at him.

It brought back the moment with the marauders' map where Salazar had somehow missed Godric speaking to him. How had he lost track of the world so much he had missed Godric getting up? What else had he missed that had forced Godric to pull the cloak from his hands?

Godric grumbled at him, "This ability of yours is dangerous. You have been unresponsive for a good twenty minutes."

Salazar swallowed at that. Twenty minutes of inattentiveness was potentially life-threatening.

"He would have snapped out of it, papa," said Hogwarts, who was unwrapping presents once more and entirely unconcerned. She had unwrapped a number of presents since he had last paid attention to her unwarping.

Helena spoke up from her seat. "Uncle Salazar must process the information to be able to use it."

"Use it?!" scoffed Godric, "Why the hell–"

"It's the Potter's invisibility cloak," Helena explained, "They've had it as long as they've been going to Hogwarts. We all know about it."

Salazar stared at the silvery fabric in wonder. "An invisibility cloak? It's around the same age as Hogwarts."

Godric snapped his gaze down to meet his gaze in shock. "That's not possible. Invisibility cloaks don't last that long."

"This one has. It's a master enchanter's work." Salazar explained, eyes stuck on the fabric. He reached out for it. "Give it here."

His brother scowled and moved it out of reach. "No."

"Godric."

"It's Christmas. You can analyze it later…as long as I'm around when you do." Godric insisted. Salazar frowned but ceased the argument. They were here to be with family, not so he could dig into the inner workings of an artifact. He would make Godric sit around while he investigated it later.

oooP2ooo

(Albus)

Albus smiled benignly at his little brother. Aberforth scowled back. The Hog's Head was as poorly kept as ever with dust covering everything and spiderwebs wherever convenient for the arachnids. Today the bar was technically closed for Christmas Day. Albus couldn't say he had ever visited when there were customers present so the empty room felt entirely normal.

"Upstairs," groused Alberforth as he locked the door back up and stomped back to his private rooms, tucked in the back of the building. Albus was sorely tempted to call after his little brother with a cheerful Merry Christmas but held himself back. It would only antagonize Aberforth more.

The stairs creaked as Albus climbed them. It was enough warning for everyone waiting for him. His oldest friend, Elphias Doge offered a smile and waved from a seat at the small table in the center of the private room. Dear Emmeline Vance sat stately at Elphias' side though a faint frown tightened crow feet wrinkles at each side of her eyes indicating her displeasure at the timing of this meeting. Alastor looked about as impressed where he stood with his feet, wooden and otherwise, spread in a confident brace. While he watched Albus enter, his magic eye was twisted about his head and likely locked on watching the ex-Death Eater. Severus, seemingly unaware of the magical scrutiny, sneered from a seat in the corner of the private room, separate from the rest. Mundungus Fletcher shivered in a rickety chair in the other corner. Most likely he had curled into it as if to avoid the ex-Auror and ex-Death Eater. Dedalus Diggle fiddled with his purple top hat as he stood between Mundungus and Alastor.

He had called in the majority of his Order in fear Tom had returned. Emmeline was likely the only one with family to rush back to for the holiday. The rest may have enjoyed having something distract them from the depressing nature of being alone on Christmas. Albus would have preferred being at Hogwarts himself. Alberforth didn't want to see him on a normal day, let alone a holiday.

Albus claimed a seat at the table, forcing Alastor and Dedalus to find seats too. Once everyone was seated, he opened the meeting. "Merry Christmas, I apologize for pulling each of you from the merry festivities of the day. It is an important matter though."

Elphias smiled benignly back. "Merry Christmas Albus, you know you can call on us no matter the day. The festivities will wait."

Emmeline made a disagreeing noise but didn't counter the man's claim. Her presence was proof enough that it was true. The rest simply stared at Albus and Elphias in return, all of them clearly unimpressed.

"Yes, thank you Elphias," He continued, "The activation of House Slytherin and House Gryffindor seats is of interest to many. The mystery will be the talk of the country for months and I fear it may be a sign of dark times coming…I called on each of you to make certain that House Slytherin has not been claimed by the self-proclaimed Heir of Slytherin–"

"There's nothin' about him bein' back," Mundungus sputtered out, "Nothin'! I dunno what you think I know about anythin'–"

Albus opened his mouth to calm the dodgy character but Severus snapped out.

"For once he is correct," the potion professor announced, "The Dark Lord's mark is just as it has been since that Halloween night, fade–"

"And I suppose we're to believe anything you say?" sneered Alastor.

Severus glared across the room at the old Auror.

Albus cut in before it devolved into a fight. "This is good news. I too have received information that indicates he has yet to return to power. We need to confirm that to the best of our ability of course." He turned slightly to look over to Mundungus properly, "If you would put out feelers on Voldemort's location once more, Mundungus, that will help greatly. It would put any doubt to rest if all indications are that he is still slinking away in an Albanian forest."

"Right," muttered the crooked dealer, looking not entirely relieved by the turn of events.

Albus supposed one day Mundungus would decide Albus's protection wasn't worth the danger. He smiled as the man finally nodded. Today was hopefully not that day as Albus would be hard-pressed to gain the information as reliably as Mundungus could within the same short timeframe.

"I can do that," Mundungus stated louder, "I'll go do that right now, shall I?"

"Certainly," Albus agreed. The less the man was aware of the better and Albus was not about to stop him from leaving before the more interesting conversation could be had. Mundungus didn't have the right contacts to help with the larger mystery.

Mundungus scurred from the room with a mumbled, "Merry Christmas."

No one bothered to answer back.

Albus leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on top of the table before him as he continued the meeting, "This leaves two matters. Let me start with the less complicated. Elphias, would you do me the favor of taking up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for the next semester? We can make it clear it is temporary and must give allowances for your duties to the Circle, of course. And I'll continue to search for a longer-term option for next year."

His old friend beamed, "Ah, to return to Hogwarts once more…Yes, I suppose I could fill the role, though I haven't had to do anything related to the subject since the war. I'll read the set book—it is only one book for all seven years, isn't it?"

"I have the details here," Albus patted his robe's various pockets until he found the shrunken folder. A simple wandless dissolving of the spell returned it to the proper size and he handed it over to Elphias, "Their curriculum and what the substitutes have covered."

Elphias hummed as he flipped through it.

"And the other item," growled Alastor, "Or could I have continued investigating the Council room for meddling?"

"The other item is just that," Albus explained, "The activated seats and who the new Paters are. We need to find out everything we can. Voldemort will return and he will go after both men. He will kill Pater Gryffindor and Pater Slytherin—after he forces the Slytherin Pater to acknowledge him as the heir he claims to be."

Emmeline interrupted, tone sharp, "You don't think Pater Slytherin is one of his?"

"Even if he is," Severus offered slowly, "the Dark Lord will never forgive one of his claiming the Council seat. House Slytherin is his. No one else's."

Albus nodded grimly, "Indeed. Both Paters will need protection. We must find them and we must convenience them to trust us, least both lines truly die out like House Ravenclaw…Have you found anything Alastor?"

"No," grumbled the ex-Auror, "The damn Council room has no signs of anything odd, just like you feared. And no one seems to know a damned thing. I'll keep hunting though. Someone will slip up. Someone has to know something."

"And so we are at an impasse," muttered Albus.

A thoughtful silence fell over them all.

"What about," Emmeline slowly said, "the opening session on the third? Both would have to go to the Council meeting, wouldn't they?"

Dedalus added, "And the governors meet on the seventh to start budgeting for the next year. These Paters would have seats there also…I have a meeting set for the March meeting to do my part of negotiating."

"There are more meetings than that," Severus noted, "There's the final meeting about the explosion in a few days. Doge will have to attend that one also since they'll want to interview your choice of Defense professor before the semester starts."

Albus turned thoughtful. He hadn't considered either, he had been distracted with prophecies and dark lords and destroyed philosopher stones. The headmaster mulled it over for a moment before he nodded. "It is a place to start. Neither had a proper presentation yet but the seats should not have activated without the presentation…so they need not present themselves formally like normal. It is possible neither show. They could even send a representative…House Prewett has a representative since Dindrane is so ill. House Black has left their seat empty since Orion passed away…but it is a place to start."

He looked over to Emmeline as he asked, "Would you be able to claim a seat in the viewing section for the Council meeting?"

"Of course," she answered.

Albus relaxed in his seat, pleased he had called on part of the Order. He had feared that he may have done so too soon after learning the stone had been destroyed. "I and Elphias must attend the next board meeting and I am always welcome to sit in on the normal monthly meeting when I am able. Alastor please continue investigating. Dedalus, keep a look out for any hints. Both Houses may have business contracts activated and you would learn about them before any of us."

Everyone nodded, even Alastor seemed pleased enough with the plan.

"Thank you for coming," he concluded the meeting, "Now, please, return to your festivities!"

The crowd rose and headed out of the small room. Albus waved at Severus to hold off leaving.

Once the group was out of hearing range, Severus said quietly, "The boy was in Diagon Alley but has since gotten his mail redirected to a postal box. I have a potion brewing that should allow me to hunt him down though."

"A postal box," mussed Albus thoughtfully, "It is a good sign, I think. Perhaps one of his relatives has done the right thing and picked the poor boy up." He pulled the door open and waved Severus through it as he requested, "Keep me informed and enjoy the holiday, my boy. I have a fire to help smother."

Albus didn't bother to say goodbye to his brother. Aberforth preferred to act as if they weren't related on the best days—and Albus couldn't blame him. Sometimes he wondered if his little brother had figured out who was responsible for Ariana's death. Albus didn't—couldn't—find out the truth. Not when it was entirely possible he cast the spell. Certainly not when it was his fault entirely that Gellert had been there in the first place.

Those depressing thoughts followed him as he pivoted on his feet and apparated to Longwood Manor. Perhaps because of those thoughts and being dragged down memory lane as often happened when he attempted to interact with Aberforth, Albus didn't notice the change immediately. Of course, the air was filled with the smell of campfire. Snowflakes with the grit of ash clinging to their ice particles floated to the ground. Stimuli indicate all was expected, if he ignored the lack of the roaring and intense heat the fire had given off last he had been here.

It was, in the end, an exclamation from one of the Aurors stuck on duty that pulled his attention to the matter at hand as he wander from the protective tent surrounding the apparition point. He didn't pay attention to whatever the Auror said though. He was too busy staring out at the desolation of the grounds.

The fire was gone.

oooP3ooo

(Arcturus)

The door clicked shut as his younger cousin stepped in with a faint frown. Cedrella Weasley, the middle daughter of his namesake and uncle, stared across the study at him. He could see her expression shutter at his frail appearance.—He knew he looked half dead.—Unlike with Callidora, Arcturus didn't expect anything but hesitation and distance from Cedrella.

In many ways, the family had failed Cedrella. He may have given her permission to marry Septimus Weasley but Walburga had pushed her out of the family. The disownment had never been official, Orion had never said she was removed and certainly never spoke to Arcturus to remove her, but everyone in the family had taken it that way.

It was a small miracle he had gotten her to come to this meeting. And more so to have her come the day after Christmas when her mass of grandchildren must have been far more tempting to spend time with.

"Welcome, cousin," Arcturus said as he waved his hand toward the couch across from him. "Please, sit."

She slowly obliged as her gaze jumped from him to the surroundings and back. An enchanted teacup shuffled over to her but she ignored it. Her hands clenched in her lap and her gaze jumped from the teacup and back up to him.

"Arcturus," she finally greeted him.

He relaxed at the familiar greeting and took a sip from his teacup. The floral taste did nothing to mask the medicine within. Arcturus made a slight face of disgust before he set it down onto its floating plate with a soft click of porcelain.

Cedrella still didn't touch her own tea.

He sighed and asked, "How are your children? Grandchildren… Great-grandchildren?"

She stared at him with her sharp blue gaze. He could see her desire to demand answers instead of pleasantries. She wasn't here to gossip, which was emphasized by her continued refusal to take up her teacup. His cousin was only here to find out why he had finally deemed her worthy of his attention.

"They are fine," she stated stiffly.

"Hmmm," he considered her for a moment more before he noted, for a lack of anything else to say, "The Weasley line is secure, from what I've heard."

Her jaw clenched and she snapped out. "After Septimus dies, Octavious will be the head of the Weasley Familia. He has given us five grandsons, all but the youngest have completed their Hogwarts education already. Titus, the eldest, has four boys with another on the way. And Sebastian, the second eldest, has a year-and-a-half-old little boy. His wife just gave birth to a second son on the 24th—health and expected to thrive, thankfully." She almost hissed her last words, "Need I go on? Poor Billus may have died after seeing that grim but Arthur has his own children. I have done well, not that any of you cared to consider it."

"You have," Arcturus agreed softly, counter to her harsh tone.

She flinched back in surprise. "Wha–"

"You were never removed from the family, Cedrella. You know this. I approved of your request to marry Weasley," He said softly before he looked out the window where the water of the Channel gleamed dark gray but visually peaceful at this distance.

He added regretfully and mostly to himself, "Orion should have controlled Walburga better…Perhaps he shouldn't have married her."

"There is no perhaps about that," Cedrella snapped out, "It was an utterly ridiculous pairing and you shouldn't have agreed to it."

Arcturus snapped his gaze back to her, outrage on the tip of his tongue. Of course, it was more than a perhaps. Walburga likely killed his son but Cedrella had no right to say such. She hadn't been part of the family for years.

She gave him a defiant look, jaw set stubbornly in a set line.

He couldn't help defend that charade of a marriage as he insisted, "Orion came to me to marry her–"

"Orion never got on with Walburga. If you had paid any attention to anything after the great war, you would have noticed that fact!" Cedrella countered hotly, "Walburga was never normal. I blame it on her parents having her when they were thirteen."

Arcturus startled at the claim and scowled at the scolding. "Now see–"

"That scandal should have never been allowed to happen!"

"I didn–"

She waved her hand at him as if to wave away his excuse before he could finish saying it and interrupted him, "Yes, of course, it was your father's fault at the time but still, Arcturus! He should have put his foot down and insisted on something else for punishment. Instead, he and the Crabbes forced Pollux and Irma to marry at thirteen years old to save face. Abortion in the name of them being thirteen and Irma not physically able to safely birth a child and allowing them to be expelled would from Hogwarts would have been the right route for saving face.—And it would have saved all of us the headache of Walburga and Bellatrix."

"You would wish away kin!"

Cedrella raised a brow in response. Her demeanor clearly stated a yes without her having to verbalize it.

He clenched his jaw as he found himself in a staring contest. His little cousin had grown bold and overly forceful in her absence. Her use of his first name was not a sign of warm familiarity but of disrespect. Arcturus thoroughly blamed the Weasleys.

"If you had said something," he couldn't help but point out, "Things may have been different."

Cedrella stared with contempt. "No, it would not have."

"I would have liste–"

"You have never done anything Melania didn't force you to do," Cedrella stated over him once more, "You've never done anything useful as Pater."

Arcturus flushed in outrage. "How dare you–"

She sprang to her feet as she hissed out, "I dare because of the utter insanity that took over the family when You-Know-Who rose to power! You fought against Grindelwald in the great war! Yet you let the House fall to ruin by letting the younger members join that monster! As–As Pater you could have forbidden it but–but, instead, you continued to hide away from the world because you couldn't get over what you experienced during the war."

Cedrella glared down at him for a moment before she stated, "You should have handed over the Patership to my father and gotten yourself help during the last years of his life. If you had, you may have been able to act like a proper Pater Black."

Silence filled the room.

Arcturus's jaw clenched and unclenched as he fought himself. Thoughts flew a mile a minute as he tried to remind himself why he needed to talk to her even as counterarguments jumped to mind.

She huffed and turned to leave.

There were only days left until the founders returned to Hogwarts. Arcturus had no idea how easy it would be for Slytherin to leave it once the semester began. He needed an heir now. He had been warned he only had so much time left to live. The purification rituals might not be enough. And there was an unknown count down to when others like House Hufflepuff found out about them. House Black needed this.

"I am looking for a squib woman of about Sirius's age who would be willing to carry his child. The child would be heir to the House. The baby would take the Black name." Arcturus explained plainly as his cousin walked away, "She would be compensated."

Cedrella stilled.

"House Black would live on."

She slowly turned around, her eyebrows high across her brow. Her nose wrinkled as she considered his words and stated, "Sirius has been in Azkaban for a decade. There is no way he could sire a child. Even if some of those potions were use–"

"I have a way that will not involve fornication. The woman's dignity will be preserved through the matter. And a child will be conceived," Arcturus quickly reassured her.

His little cousin mulled over his words for another moment before she countered, "The preservation of House Black is important. Weasley magick would almost guarantee a male but we've no way to know if the magick would influence a squib's pregnancy."

"It will," Arcturus answered as he straightened up at the fact surrounding the Weasley family magick. He only knew one fact. Everyone knew it. "Weasley's rarely have females…"

Cedrella looked down at him with a hard frown. He could see the indecision, the internal debate as she considered walking away.

"Please," Arcturus leaned forward as he stated softly, "I swear I won't speak of this to anyone else, Cedrella. The House is on the line."

A sigh escaped her and she glanced around the sitting room. Cedrella offered another counter half-heartedly, "One of my grandsons could be your heir."

Arcturus slowly shook his head and said, "No, they cannot. The magick pushes me in the direction I have found…But, not only that Cedrella, the disconnect that has happened between your family and the House could cause too great an internal struggle within the House."

"The only ones left are us old people. We'll be dead and gone soon enough," she scoffed as if to argue otherwise. Soon they would all be dead so there would be no infighting with her grandson if one was chosen to be the new Pater Black.

"It would be better for everyone if it does not look like House Black is being taken over by another House or Familia," he insisted, especially one so closely magically tied to House Gryffindor.

She glanced at the door. Her shoulders drooped. The woman turned back to him and walked back to her seat. "Why?" Cedrella asked, still standing. Her hands were clenched.

Arcturus hesitated for a moment before he admitted vaguely, "Something big is coming. You've seen the activation of House Gryffindor's and Slytherin's seats and I imagine the entire Weasley family has scrutinized the ranks to see if one of you claimed the House Gryffindor Patership–"

"You know something about that!"

"House Black must be prepared to weather the storm on solid ground. The upheaval of another family claiming the House power and seat would be…immense."

Cedrella looked over him with a frown that was on the verge of a pout. Finally, she sank back into her seat as she said, "Somehow, I doubt that's what's gotten you to actually do something for once."

He gritted his teeth but said nothing. She could have said there was no squib Weasley females and left. That she hadn't implied he might have finally found the woman. He would let her disrespect slide.

"Female Weasleys are rare. Arthur has his little girl, Ginevra. She's spoiled by the family since she proved her magic–" She pursed her lips together and grumbled out softly, "–on the rare occasion the rest of us see them."

He chose to ignore that last remark as she leaned back in her seat and explained louder, "You know House Malfoy used to have multiple branches even though it's been obvious for centuries something restricts the family to a single child per couple?"

Arcturus raised a brow and drawled out, "There are plenty of examples of Malfoys having a second heir when needed–"

"With another woman." She countered, "A Malfoy has one child per marriage…except for the one time a Weasley married into the family. The man had already had a child with another woman who died in childbirth. So he re-married to have a mother figure for his son. The Weasley he married had multiple children and suddenly the Malfoys had branches of the family. At least until Abraxas's first wife and child died…around when said child turned eleven."

Arcturus grimaced at the reminder of that frankly blatant murder. It was even worse now that he knew the two had been perfectly acceptable magicals. Abraxas had married his distant cousin immediately after, even though she was bearly of age and the last of the branch Malfoy family. Nine months later Abraxas had his new heir, Lucius.

He probably shouldn't bring up the entire horrible truth of that scandal to Narcissa.—Better the Malfoys come to their own realization of it when the squib issue eventually became common knowledge.

"Your point?"

Cedrella said, "The Weasleys have…examples that a female Weasley is able to birth children outside of any family curses that targeted the fertility or health of the family…Of course, it's all technically hearsay without various Houses and Familia's willing to give sordid family details."

That certainly wouldn't hurt the situation. Arcturus leaned forward as he asked plainly, "Is there a female Weasley squib of appropriate age?"

Cedrella searched his face for something before she answered softly, "One."

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep from slumping in relief.

She explained slowly, almost reluctantly, "Nimue Weasley is younger than Sirius but not to such an extent it would cause another scandal for the family….if–" She paused and gave him a judging look. "–you know, they were pursuing a relationship where Sirius wasn't a convicted criminal."

Arcturus ignored the jab. It wasn't nearly as insulting as everything else she had thrown at him. "Has the family kept an eye on her? Where might I find her?"

She smirked as she noted, "Nimue never left our community." That smirk died as she added grimly, "Her older sister had…had an accident…she would have too but her father, Romulus, came upon the situation in time to save Nimue. Her mother, a Rookwood, is out of the picture now. Her relations to the Rookwoods—and their likely preference she was dead—may cause problems for your whole plans."

"Hmmm…I'll deal with that if it becomes an issue. Where would I find her?" Arcturus said, relief rushing through him even though he knew the girl could decline to bear him the heir.

If she declined—he would have to make certain she didn't.

Cedrella flushed pink across her cheeks and shifted in her seat before she reluctantly said, "I'm…not entirely certain. Her father would know but, well…the whole situation with her being a squib and the fact that her mother likely killed her sister…attempted to kill her…umhmm…and…well…you know, her not being sent away to the society she belongs in–"

"So I should contact Romulus?" Arcturus cut in, "or just send her a letter."

She swallowed and offered a slight shrug. "We don't keep in contact. Romulus is your best bet but I doubt he'd want Nimue to take your offer."

Arcturus fought back a groan of frustration and took a sip of his tea. He set it down and nodded at his cousin. "Thank you, Cedrella."

"I do want House Black to survive, Arcturus," she agreed and stretched her hand out to him as she added, "Bringing the family back together is the only way it will. Even a new heir won't mean anything if he has no support."

He reached out and grasped her offered hand as a sign of agreement, even if he suspected Cedrella planned to take charge of the heir. Not that House Black would be worse off if she did.—It would be more of an issue with some of the other cousins.

"Let us work to mend the family back together," he offered kindly in return.

oooP4ooo

(Harry)

Alfred primped at the front of his brim where Salazar had carefully embroidered golden threaded runes of protection, enhancement, and misdirection into his magic. It was safer to use runic magic than more enchantments to protect Alfred from further alterations. The hat already had an interestingly deep weave of evolved enchantments that had turned him sentient. There was no good reason to directly mess with it, especially now that they had cleaned it up.

Godric and Salazar had spent the entire morning of Boxing Day removing the last bit of foreign magic from the hat. The last four had been tied together as pairs, which had been the most annoying aspect of them. The easiest way to handle them was to work on them as a pair too.

Now, Alfred was clean of curses and alterations to his function and personality. Next year he would sort the children properly.

"You know, he's sort of cute," rumbled Godric from the floor by the fireplace.

Hogwarts giggled in the same general area, "Merlie is cuter."

That pulled Salazar's gaze from the runic work. He pulled the needle through the leather and paused from stabbing it in the wrong place.

Godric was playing with one of the kittens. It was not Merlin.

"If that kitten bonds to you…" Salazar trailed off, not certain what to actually do about that. Omorose had bonded to him when he hadn't meant for it also. He wouldn't have changed that for the world. But Godric wasn't an animal person. (He could have sworn he wasn't either before the kneazle.)

Hazel eyes jumped to him, slightly wide. Godric glanced back down at the little kitten and Salazar's gaze followed. The kitten had been black when he had first seen it but now it had more orange and red and gold than black in its fur.

"Uh," Godric said as he continued to hold the kitten, increasing the likelihood it would bond—if it hadn't already. "I'm not much of a pet person."

Hogwarts frowned in confusion. "But papa it looks like fire. It's perfect for you."

Salazar snorted at the look Godric sent their school and turned back to the runes he needed to finish around the entire brim before they headed out. The embroidery looked like an unending pattern of golden horizontal lines of various thicknesses. Repeated through the pattern were what appeared to be little x's in the upper right corner, matched by a little triangle in the lower right corner. It was actually a circular runic matrix with layers of algiz, eihwaz, ansuz, and various Ogham runes embroidered on top of each other—hence the lines varying in thickness—and repeated over and over until the circle was completed.

He had shrugged off Godric's jab about making the design visible and decorative but it had been churning in the back of his mind. He wasn't going to bother with learning how to embroider bleeding flowers or anything of the like but adding runes to clothing without having to worry about anyone realizing what they were for or having to hide them would be very useful. After everything that had happened, clothing that became enforced armor with a touch of magic would be convenient and possibly life-saving.

The druid didn't have time to create such a thing but the tailors and seamstress Cassiopeia had introduced did. That they didn't understand why two eleven-year-olds wanted gold or silver threaded runic shapes on all their clothing was their problem. He had a business proposition for the team if they successfully crafted the fire resistance and temperature adjusting matrices on their various formal robes, though. They'd understand then and House Slytherin would be making its first income ever.

For Alfred, the magic of the Ogham runes would hide the entire embroidered brim but, if that deteriorated in the future, it would only look like a little fancy gold geometric pattern around the brim. Someone would probably be able to tell that the runic magic was centuries newer than the original enchantment work but by then their reincarnation would likely be well known. There were too many people that had already found out for it to stay a secret.

Magic infused into the completed runic circle made the golden thread glow warmly for a moment. Alfred sighed in relief as the protective magic settled through his leather form.

Salazar set the Sorting Hat onto the back of the couch as he noticed Hogwarts' gaze dart to her pile of pranking material. She had been eyeing the pile more and more over the course of the day. He didn't ask who she wanted to prank—he had a guess. That she was choosing to laze about with them instead of doing what she wanted to was sweet but unnecessary. They didn't have to stay when they all had things to do.

"Well," Salazar said before he rose and stretched, "We should head out, shouldn't we?"

Godric set the little kitten back in the bed with its siblings and rose himself with a faint groan. "Suppose so."

Hogwarts hopped up and picked Alfred up to trace the golden thread. "Pretty, papa." She plopped Alfred onto her head where the hat somehow sat properly as if it actually fit her.

"Oh," breathed out Alfred, "Well this is certainly fascinating Hogsie."

She looked up at them with a soft smile. "It was a good Christmas papas. We'll be fine. Come back whole. No dying allowed."

His brother snorted and gave him a look. Salazar rolled his eyes and gave her a quick hug. "Of course, I'll endeavor to do that."

"We'll be back with the children," Godric added as he claimed his own hug before they headed out without any further fanfare. Helene had long left with her book. There wasn't anyone else to wish goodbye to.

Salazar considered everything they needed to do and everything he wanted to do as they traversed back through the hidden passage that led into the forest. Being back made the issues with the wards feel like a priority again though there wasn't anything he could do now—except, maybe…

"Godric," Salazar said thoughtfully, "You said something about a…a, uh-" He paused and turned to his brother who had his brow raised in amused query. "-some type of travel device? When we ran across the ground and ended up fighting Quirrell."

His brother blinked in a second of confusion before he blurted out, "Portkey. It's an enchantment that allows an object to transport anyone to a pre-designated location. Some are one-off and some can be used over and over again for years."

"Could you create some that took people to the Longbottom Manor? The one you set on fire?"

Godric's brow furrowed as he answered slowly, "Yess. Maybe just outside the area but my fire may have destroyed any outer protective magic…Why?"

Salazar smirked. "You'll have to end your flames but how would you like to send a belated Christmas gift?"

Gryffindor stared. "What gift?"

"A grove worth of gnomes and doxies," Salazar answered, his smirk becoming toothy and sharp. "Then we can visit the Ministry for the Archival and set up the floo to your manor."

His brother's expression twisted about before a laugh escaped. "Gods. Yes. I left the fire out two days ago. The land should be cooled enough to not harm any of them…We should make certain they can't be easily removed."

"Of course," Salazar agreed before leading the way up into the forest and around the border to the grove infested with vermin.

Between the two of them and having no need to keep the creatures around, it took only a few hours to clear the grove of the pests. Admittedly, that was most of the remaining daylight but it was nice cleaning up one of the groves desperately needing it and even more so with knowing where the annoying creatures were going. It took about as long to shift the protective barrier around the grove to include more trees so the little holes the gnomes and doxies had found were closed. By the end, they had one more fully protected grove in decent condition.

Once done they hiked all the way back around to Hogsmeade, which was approximately diagonal to the grove they had cleaned up with Hogwarts in between. They used the book of floo addresses at the public station by The Three Broomsticks to figure out how to reach the Ministry. It wasn't even slightly difficult. The first page included the most common public addresses. The Ministry of Magic's Atrium was the third listed, right after the Department of Law Enforcement and St. Mungos.

He hissed profanities under his breath as he stumbled out of the spinning torture device wizardkind insisted was appropriate transport and flips Godric off when he spied his brother's grin. The inventor of the floo could have chosen a different medium for opening the spinning dimension. From what he could tell, the green flames did something to the air. It only lasted an instant but Salazar was certain he wasn't imagining the uncomfortable loss of something in the air now that he knew to pay it any mind.

His gaze was drawn to the atrium they had flooed into—specifically, its ceiling. It was a long, large hall with dark wood floors, elegant marble walls, and a blue-toned ceiling with runic markings dancing across the top.

Salazar frowned as he stared up at the dancing markings. Eyebrows rose, impressed as he realized what they were for. "We're in a pocket dimension."

Godric turned his own gaze up to stare at the symbols also. "Interesting," he remarked quietly after a moment before straightening his felt hat more securely over his head.

"Most definitely," Salazar agreed as he also pulled his hat back into place, "I wonder how many realize this isn't actually in London."

"Not many," Godric offered before he headed away from the fireplace.

Salazar followed as he took in the nearly deserted hall. A couple of older wizards hurried by, quickly snagging a pinch of floo powder and leaving by the fireplaces on the right side. The fireplace they had come through had been on the left and none of them had a tin of powder on their mantles. It must be to manage the flow of traffic, keeping incoming and outgoing crowds in clear sections of the atrium.

At the center of the hall was a ridiculous golden fountain made up of a golden wizard and witch surrounded by golden magical beings admiring them. It rose almost to the ceiling with water spotting out of the wands of the two humans. The glint of coins danced in the watery depths. On either side of the statue was a large empty space with a few potted plants and a couple of tables and chairs.

They continued past the statue and finally saw the entrance of the ministry. Golden gates with a security station were set into the far wall. As the two walked closer, Salazar spied a young man slumped at his desk clearly bored out of his mind.

"Hello," Salazar said as they reached the desk.

The young man, unfortunately wearing robes of a similar blue to the ceiling, said without looking up from his book. "Tap your wand here." He pointed at a golden disk centered on the front of the desk.

Salazar did as asked and a parchment slip popped out. The security officer read out in bewilderment, "Quez…Queezzalcoat feather?"

"Close enough."

The man grumbled about strange words, stuffed the parchment into something, and pulled a gold rod out. He finally looked up and paused at the sight of the two short people before him. "What are you two here for?"

"Visiting," Salazar answered, "Why else would any of us be here when it's a holiday?"

He nodded with another round of grumbles about senior members getting preference on holidays as he waved the rod at Salazar. The rob thrummed softly in the air and Salazar could feel magic slide across him, tracing his height and weighing him, literally. The parchment popped out of the device it had been stuffed into and the security officer nodded at the results.

Salazar rose onto his toes to lean over. Eyebrows rose at the sight of his actual height and weight described on the parchment. A final line stated his purpose of the visit as 'Visiting'.

It took only a few moments to have Godric checked in also. The security officer didn't bother reading Godric's wand core, likely due to how normal it was comparably, and for some reason never bothered with either of their names. Though maybe he didn't think it necessary. Their hats' magic might have enhanced his boredom and caused him to not care. Either way, Salazar wasn't going to complain.

Past the golden gate was a smaller hall with multiple lifts, their doors just as gold as the rest of the metal present. They stepped into a lift as another opened, letting a throng of wizards and witches out. Godric was the one to press a floor button as Salazar took in the various officials.

The lot looked exhausted, worn, and more than a little panicked: he had a feeling it was partly his fault.

"–us Dumbledore."

"Someone has to know how to find Paters Gryffindor and Slytherin! If not Dumbledore then…Where's Mater Hufflepuff?" cried out a stout man who was waving a bowler hat about emotionally.

Someone answered, "She was pulled in when the seats first activa–"

The elevator door slid closed.

Salazar and Godric shared a look. It had only been a few days since they activated their seats so maybe it shouldn't be surprising but it was also a holiday. The lot should just go home and be with family at this point. Neither founder would reveal themselves if they could help it.

Loud jangling and clattering of the lift kept the two founders silent. An abused paper airplane flew repeatedly into a corner of the lift, crinkling its paper nose. Christmas music played, though not loud enough to be discernable over the clattering. Besides the gold tint to everything, it wasn't a particularly well-kept feeling to the place. It felt abandoned, which it was in a way. Nearly everyone had fled the place for the holiday season.

A ding announced the slowing of the lift and a female voice pronounced in a cool, no-nonsense tone, "Floor Five for Magical Standards and Practices Office, The Archival, and Judiciary Courts One through Five."(1)

They stepped into a long, empty hall with signs hanging from the ceiling to denote doors along the long hallway before it ended with a set of double doors parallel to the lift. The first door was to the office for Magical Standards and Practices. The window set within the door showed a darkened, deserted room. The five other doors leading to the end were windowless, protecting the privacy of any court in session. The doors at the end of the hall were for the Archival and also had windows that were darkened, hinting at an empty room beyond.

As soon as Salazar stepped into the end room, fairy lights pulsed to life across the ceiling and walls scones. The Archival was a large library with no windows. A front desk with a wooden barrier and locked gate stood in their way.

"We should be able to access our House documents without anyone here," Godric said as he looked over the clearly empty front desk with a frown, "It's supposed to be publicly available."

Salazar reached out and tapped the button on top of a bell sitting on the desk. The bell reverberated without any sound. Salazar frowned down at it. "Is it brok–"

A pop-click announced a House elf. It was a tiny, young little House elf with absolutely huge eyes. "Yous be calling the Archival? Yous be wanting paperwork? I be helping yous! I be in charge." The little creature puffed up his chest at that last, loud announcement.

"In charge, huh?" Godric remarked in amusement. "You've done a great job."

The juvenile House elf beamed.

Salazar fought his grin, having the impression the child wouldn't appreciate any impression of being laughed at. He said with as straight a face he could, "Would you get us the papers for House Slytherin and House Gryffindor?"

Large eyes blinked twice before he bounced excitedly. "I be doing that!" He pop-clicked out before they could say anything else.

Godric shifted to lean on the desk with an arm and grinned over at Salazar, "Tight security here."

"I imagine we'd have more issues if we tried to get past the desk." Salazar countered.

A pop-click announced a House elf. Large portfolios dropped onto the desk with a clatter and the little House elf poked his head out from behind them. "I found them! I be needing your signatures before yous be reading them. Yous be needing to pay for any copies to be taken from the Archival. Originals are strictly forbidden from leaving. Lost or damage to your copies is not refundable. Yous have to pay for new copies."

"Understandable," Salazar said with a nod, "Where do you need us to sign?"

The elf unstacked the portfolios, pulled out two pre-printed forms, and laid one onto each portfolio. The forms glowed. He pulled them off when the glow faded away and pushed them across the table to the founders. Then he snapped his fingers, causing a quill and ink bottle to appear on the desk.

It took a moment to glance over the forms to determine which went to who. Then they each took a moment to read over the form. It was simple enough and there was only truthfulness magic on the parchment and quill.

"We can sign however we want, as long as it's truthful," Salazar remarked.

"Correct!" chirped the little House elf, "Yous need one name that yous have full claim to. Some sign with just their last names."

Godric chuckled. "That sounds perfect…does anyone review these?"

The elf nodded, his ears he hadn't grown into yet flopped about. "All forms will be reviewed by the manager when she comes back from Holiday. Your forms will be added to the stack."

With that information, and an amusing image of the manager's reaction, Salazar signed his contract with just Slytherin. Godric signed his parchment in a similar manner. The elf took the forms back with a nod and jumped off the desk.

The gate at the side slid open, revealing the elf as he waved them through and said, "Yous may use any desk. They be spelled for privacy. Taking any other document or book from a shelf is prohibited. You'll be asked to leave."

"Understood," Godric stated as he stepped through and claimed the Gryffindor portfolio.

Salazar nodded and followed suit. The two claimed desks near each other. None were close enough to allow snooping. Magic folded around Salazar as he sat, blurring the area around him. He could see Godric at his desk and the little House elf watching them by the front but he couldn't see any detail. There was no way he would be able to read any of the documents Godric was pulling out.

He smiled at the precaution. It was appreciated.

His Slytherin portfolio looked as large as the Gryffindor's but the vast majority of documents were for the Familia of Potter. He separated the large stack of Potter papers from the smaller stack of Slytherin ones with a faint frown.

During the ritual vision, the viper had sucked in—for a lack of a better description—the cloud of Potter magicks. He hadn't realized that had been a literal claiming of the familia as an aspect of the House alongside him claiming his magicks and headship.

It was interesting to speculate what magic was set up on the Archival to move and combine paperwork like what had clearly happened here. But it was also not the time to think about it. Salazar turned back to the paperwork before him.

The most prominent type of documentation for House Slytherin were copies of wills and court cases where family of the deceased fought and won the right to whatever the dead person had left to House Slytherin. A couple of the filed wills hadn't been contested and were waiting for House Slytherin to accept the willed property, which was going to be thrilling to deal with when some of them had been pending for centuries.

Notations of failed attempts at claiming the seat on the Wizards Council made up the rest of the Slytherin paperwork. Most of those were attempted by people with the last name Gaunt.

Salazar glanced at Godric. His brother had stacks and stacks of paperwork surrounding him. They were going to be here for a while.

He turned back to his own stacks and tucked the Slytherin paperwork away. He could wait to deal with the pending wills for a few years and no one would be able to attempt to claim the seat with it active. This was likely the only case where leaving no heirs had been helpful—basically no paperwork. He was going to take it.

It took longer to organize the Potter paperwork. He made one pile of certifications—marriage, birth, Hogwarts graduation, masteries, healer practice, O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, and more were all dumped together. He created another pile for all registrations and permits for animagus, apparition, floo network setup(and deactivation), and breeding various magical beasts (mostly curps). The shortest pile he created was for property ownership.—The cliffside did look like his property. He also owned some land on the Isles of Wight, and a townhome in Brixham.

Patent filings were set together and he dug through them for a little while. They were fascinating as they detailed everything about the process of discovery to the creation of the patent, the testing stages for safe usage, and proof of the timeframe of the original concept to completion.

The selling of property, businesses, and patents was another pile. The only contract he looked at in depth was an odd-looking one where the government purchased the Godric Hollow cottage for 200 galleons so they could set it up as a monument. The Wizengamot had somehow pushed it through without a Potter involved. That looked like something to fix.

He hummed thoughtfully before he put everything back in the folder and requested a copy made of it all from the little House elf. Salazar glanced over at Godric as the elf vanished with the folder for copying. His brother was going to be going through the file for ages yet.

"Is there," Salazar asked the House elf when it returned with his copy, "anything else a newly activated House should do while here? Once Gryffindor's done, we're going to reactivate a floo but he's going to be a while."

The elf lit up in excitement. "I be doing floo reactivation paperwork! I be able to help here." The little guy pop-clicked away before Salazar could respond to this enlightening fact. He guessed most departments were still "open" but run by House elves, or a single House elf.

When the elf pop-clicked back with a small stack of paperwork and at Godric's side. His brother jumped in surprise but accepted the paperwork after the elf said something to him. Salazar couldn't hear due to the protective magic around each table. It took only a few minutes before the elf pop-clicked away with everything signed for the floo setup.

Eventually, the House elf reappeared before him and announced, "Floo be set up now. Yous be wanting to do other things?" At Salazar nod the young elf hummed thoughtfully and offered, "Yous be wanting apparition license or Animagi license yous be having to come back when other wizards are present…Yous be allowed to read council transcripts. They be public access…Yous, uh, yous be allowed in part of the Mystery department but yous need a guide to avoid hungery brains and love room and I not be allowed as guide. I be able to ask unspeakable to guide yous, though!"

"Mystery department?" Salazar repeated slowly, curious.

"Fuck this," Godric announced as he interrupted, "Sally would you mind paying to have the entire thing copied so we can get out of here?"

Salazar shrugged. "Not at all."

The utter relief emulated from Godric was entertaining though Salazar couldn't really blame him for the reaction. There had been far too much paperwork over the holidays where they were supposed to not do anything. Copy made and paid for, it took a few minutes to make it back to the atrium.

Salazar looked to Godric as he stopped before the exit. "Floo address?"

Godric grimaced before he mumbled. "Griffinsthrone."

"What?"

"Griffin's Throne," he groused out, "I had to accept the existing password since I didn't want wizards to come by and reset it all."

Salazar choked out a "right", even as he tried not to laugh at him. Gods the Gryffindor's descendents had been full of some interesting personalities.

oooP5ooo

(George)

George dropped into a seat at the Hufflepuff table beside little Ronald. "Whatcha doing?"

Their little brother was the only Hufflepuff around, just as they were the only Gryffindors. Well, besides Perfect Prefect Percy but the older Weasley didn't count. He was too obnoxious and rule-abiding to be a proper Gryffindor. Neville didn't follow the rules at all between killing professors, destroying property (most of which could arguably be his), and eating at the wrong house table. So their older brother wasn't a proper Gryffindor at all and didn't count when considering the remaining students at school over the holiday.

Ron mumbled something.

Fred dropped into the bench on the other side of their little brother and asked, loud and horrified, drawing the attention of the one professor stalking through the Great Hall this late evening. "What?!"

George grinned behind his hand as Snape stalked in a circle toward them. Ickle Ronniekins had no clue he was falling for the easiest of pranks. It was too difficult to do these with him during the school year since he was in another dorm. At least they had the holidays to make up for it.

Their brother flushed red and said clearly, "History homework."

That got them and Professor Snape to pause.

Fred helpfully repeated, "What?" though his tone was more bewildered now.

It was the day after Christmas and their little brother had betrayed them and all the good in the world by working onhomework. It was almost as disappointing as the book Bill had sent them.—It was fascinating and looked like it would give them plenty of pranking inspiration but it had a single chapter with stories about exorcisms. None of the stories gave any details on how to complete one.

Ron became a beacon of red before he blurted out in a rush, "I've gotta get this done so I'm not last place again! All the Slytherins are beating my grades, no matter how much work I put into these bloody essays. Even Harry's getting better grades and he never comes to class!"

"Mr. Potter," drawled out Snape, spooking Ron (which under different circumstances would have been a lovely little prank successfully executed), "has been skipping class, has he?"

Their little brother turned pale in horror. Fred turned paler and George wasn't certain he was looking any better. He didn't feel great that their little brother had just gottenPotter in trouble, no matter that it had been an accident.

"Well?" demanded Snape.

Ron made a helpless noise, his gaze darting about for an exit.

The man sneered and stated, "Speak up Weasley or have a detention for disobeying a professor."

Their brother, proving that he could have been in Gryffindor, clamped his mouth shut and took the detention. In turn, Ron decided to blame them for what had happened and immediately began the silent treatment. Ron wasn't exactly wrong about that but it left the two out of immediate distractions for the issue at hand.

Bill had not come through for them. Their only remaining option was to work with Peeves. The twins wandered the school, dearly missing their magical map, as they searched for the poltergeist. They didn't have the money to buy the specific pranking pack Peeves had wanted but they could negotiate something.

A shout of surprise drew the twins around a corner on the seventh floor. The headmaster stood before the gargoyle griffin that guarded his office drenched in what appeared to be black ink. His vibrant holiday robes were ruined. The jolly hat and his grey hair and beard looked black. The old man glared about the apparently empty hall, missing the redheads peeking around the corner.

The headmaster cast multiple spells, none of which got rid of the ink. With a scowl, the old man snapped at his statue, "Lemon drops!"

Ink spewed out of the griffin's mouth.

George's mouth dropped open in surprise. He heard a snort escape Fred.

It was a snort too loud as the usually jolly headmaster's gaze snapped over in their general direction. The boys bolted and fled to the closest hidden passage they could reach. They didn't stop fleeing until they heard peeves cheerfully singing a twisted version of Joy to the World.

Twin gazes met as they paused at another corner, Peeves likely just around the bend.

_Poltergists can't do that with statues._

They couldn't without possessing the statue at least. Peeves didn't sound like he had fled the scene of a prank either.

Fred nodded. _Never seen Peeves prank the headmaster._

The two boys shared a look, silently sharing in their confusion.

Peeves had never pranked the headmaster before, so who had? The only people at school were teachers and Weasleys. Everyone else had gone home. Even Potter and Neville had gone off somewhere.

"Peeves!" cried a very excited, little girl—a little girl that shouldn't be at school. She sounded utterly gleeful as she explained, "You have to come see! I got him good. And he's not gotten past my prank yet!"

They shared another look, eyes wide as they listened to the conversation.

"Hogsie you got the headmaster without me?" The pout Peeves had to have could be heard in the whine of his voice.

The twins chanced a glance around the corner.

Peeves had been painting the wall and had clearly been at it for a good hour or more. Even if the little girl hadn't claimed the prank hers, they would have known Peeves hadn't done it.

George didn't notice details of the painting beyond it being elaborate and insulting. The glow around the little girl drew his gaze. She was transparent but full of color. Her features weren't exaggerated like Peeves's so she probably wasn't a poltergeist. The color made it highly unlikely she was a ghost either.

She continued to ramble excitedly, "I took some ink from presents papa gave me and stored it in the statue. I set it to release whenever he said his password instead of moving the griffin statue.—I have to show you the rest of my pranking material!"

"That's bloody brilliant," whispered Fred, "We should have thought of that."

His brother's whisper should have been quiet enough. Teachers had never heard either of them when they had whispered similarly before. It was definitely quieter than the earlier snort. But the little girl's red curls flew through the air as she twisted around to look directly at them.

An "eep" escaped her and she was gone. Entirely, utterly, gone as if she had never been there. There was no sound of a pop like a House elf leaving, not even the bang of an apparition being done. She had been there, glowing, and then she wasn't, making the room a little dimmer.

George blurted out in surprise, "What the–"

"What you want?" snapped Peeves, his exaggerated features exaggerated further by him puffing his cheeks up in outrage.

"Uhhh…" George glanced helplessly at Fred.

His brother straightened and stepped out from behind the corner, "Evening Peeves, we were looking for you about that deal–"

"Not interested."

George scrambled out to join Fred and frowned at the poltergeist. "But you wanted premium dungbombs for knowledge to exorcise…uh…Binns."

"Don't need more now, " Peeves countered with a shrug before he jumped into the air.

"Wait–"

Peeves vanished.

oooP6ooo

(Arcturus)

Cassiopeia swept into the small dining room he had decided to use for once—He had been using more and more of his home lately. It was both refreshing and bittersweet as the last time he had used most of the rooms was when Mellie had been alive.

The dark woods of his study were reflected within the octagonal-shaped dining room. Dark blue with stylized silver constellations were painted across the walls and high, arched ceiling. Tall windows looked out over the little island. They framed a garden gated by stone walls and a copse of trees. Even with winter taking all the greenery, there was no hint that there was a beach a few minutes walk down the gravel path that cut through the manicured landscape. It could have been a country garden somewhere in Britain or Northern France.

"Malfoy is a one-minded fool," announced Cassiopeia as she swept to the table and gilded into a chair, "Narcissa all but demanded the Black seat to vote against the passing of department budgets because there are rumors the expanded law enforcement budget would be used for raids!" She leaned forward and added in a hiss and an eye roll, "Or worse."

She lifted the starched napkin from the porcelain plate before her and flicked it out at her right so it lost its geometric folded shape before she laid it on her lap and added dramatically, "There are no rumors of any of the right sort of families being disgraced with squib girls in recent years. And it's entirely too vulgar to speak of such things now that it's all done and over with."

Arcturus raised an eyebrow. "Was that last part from Narcissa or her mother?"

Cassiopeia sighed. "Narcissa. Druella has been cooped up in bed with a nasty cold for the last few weeks…which usually means she's avoiding me…Though, supposedly, Cygnus has also come down with whatever it is."

"Sounds like he's also avoiding you," Arcturus noted, amused. Most of the younger flock of Blacks avoided Cassiopeia.

She sniffed disdainfully.

Delicate wine glasses popped into existence before both of them. Deep red glistened in the sunlight. Arcturus picked up the glass and swirled it thoughtfully.

He would need to return to the Council seat. Lucius would be disappointed. The younger man had attempted to have Arcturus blindly vote with him through coercion—Narcissa and even little Draco had often brought up concerns Arcturus couldn't believe they cared about. Arcturus had stopped meeting them entirely to avoid hearing about all the ridiculous, meaningless dealings of the Council.

It wasn't so meaningless when he would have an heir. He hadn't lied to Cedrella about needing the House to be on solid ground. Whatever Mother Magic had planned with reincarnating Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor would rock the world.

Cedrella's snark about him not doing anything jumped to his forethought before he could squash it. He hadn't bothered with his seat since he gave the duty of it to Orion. And his son had not been suited for it. That he hadn't noticed that fact until recently, long after Orion's death was…was what it was.

It didn't mean he had done anything—Orion had been dead for nearly twelve years and he had just recently realized the issue.

An insidious thought nagged at the back of his mind since Cedrella's visit—since the confrontation with Pater Slytherin even—it popped a question to mind: When was the last time a Black sat in their Council seat and did their job?

He set the wine glass down without tasting it, taken with an ill feeling.

A delicate bowl of soup appeared on the porcelain plate before him. Arcturus stared down at the artistic drizzle of olive oil over the creamy puree of potato and leek, no longer hungry. His mind churned with thoughts he consciously pushed aside. He couldn't stop their effect on his appetite.

"Did you have any luck with dear Callidora and Cedrella? Or Lucretia?" Cassiopeia asked after a sip of soup. Her tone implied that she didn't expect a positive answer.

Arcturus relaxed and focused on his favorite cousin. He smirked across the table at her and finally spooned soup into his mouth. Her slight pout lightened his mood further. He set the spoon down and leaned back in satisfaction as he considered the positives of his meetings.

"In fact," he said, "I did."

Cassiopeia's eyebrow rose as she tilted her head in skeptical inquiry, "Oh?"

"The Longbottoms have…a history of squibs, all of which have been tossed out to the muggle world," he explained, choosing his words carefully to keep himself from speaking poorly of both family and squibs. Speaking poorly of someone too often could affect how you treated them and he had a lifetime to shift his natural reaction in regards to squibs. The Longbottoms could be a strong alliance again, one day, and their squibs may be brought back into the family by then.

Arcturus finally took a sip of his wine and hummed as he swished the liquid about, taking in the rich notes of cinnamon and clove. He closed his eyes at the memories that flavor brought. The House elves had popped open one of Mellie's Holiday wines.

His cousin made a deliberate noise that pulled him from quiet Christmases with just his wife and him. He set the glass back down.

At his returned attention, Cassiopeia asked, "And Cedrella? You were able to meet?"

"She has given us the girl," Arcturus confirmed, "All the other leads head to the muggle world but that will take time, so they must be our secondary option. Nimue Weasley, daughter of Romulus Weasley and a Rookwood…She lives in our society still. Cedrella wasn't certain where she was but I've sent a letter to Romulus."

Cassiopeia sniffed and leaned back in her chair. "I'll find her."

"Cassie–"

"I doubt she's protected from scrying."

"Her mother is rumored to have killed her younger sister and attempted to kill her," Arcturus countered.

A pop-click announced a House elf. The elves knew better than to disturb a dinner. Arcturus frowned over to Elmore. His senior elf held out two envelopes. The thicker envelope was filled with photos of a muggle street. It took a moment for him to recall having Elmore photograph the place he had left his squib cousin, Cassiopeia's little brother. That was something to investigate later and something Cassiopeia could do without knowing about for now.

"Ah," Arcturus broke the seal on the other envelope. The pop-click of Elmore leaving was background noise as he flipped the letter open with a faint smirk. His smirk died. "Romulus will not tell us where his girl is…and I do believe I could have him arrested for threatening a seated Council member."

She frowned from across the table but shrugged as she said, "Probably for the best to avoid that…I'll see what I can do. This Nimue cannot be that difficult to find."

Arcturus nodded, annoyed at the added complexity to this entire mess.

His cousin leaned forward. "Don't you worry, I found our founders easily enough! A squib couldn't possibly be more difficult…Annnd–" She grinned at him as she dragged out her 'and' for a second. "–let me tell you about our dear founders. I've had a few lovely meetings with them now, while you keep putting your foot in your mouth around them."

He huffed in annoyance but couldn't really deny it either.

oooPooo

1. The ministry levels have been tweaked by me. I mostly expanded things since magic makes a floor potentially infinitely large. The atrium and the Department of Mysteries can be found on the canon floors. Everything else may have shifted as I grouped things together and on close floors where it seemed to make sense.

Sorry for the delay in publishing everyone! I didn't fully process June being here and ended up having a rather busy weekend. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter all the same.

I have also shared the extended, though consolidated, family tree over in the Misc Maps & Information for Ourborus on Ao3.

A quick thank you to everyone that helped with the French in the last chapter. It has been updated.

Last, Chapter 31 is the beginning of chapters with some scenes in their first drafts. It is a 50/50 chance that Ch31 will be delayed by a month as those scenes have been pending me figuring out political stuff due to the holiday parties all being politically oriented. While they are politically oriented, the scenes may stay away from it even if I do figure things out as Sal is going to the parties to hang out with his fellow first years, not all the adults. So while I'm not promising any political shenanigans, I need to know some stuff to decide if there will be such or not before finalizing the chapter for publishing.