The last chapter was my favourite chapter so far. Let me know if you agree. Reviews help me see how I'm doing and are quite motivating, positive and constructively negative criticism is always welcome. This chapter closes the set up of the Alternate Universe, from here on out we see how this change will affect the story.
P. S. We know who owns what by now, I'll stop with the disclaimers.
Chapter 7 – The Forgotten Founder
"Hello Praetor Virinius Sphinkus, my name is Maxximus Alexander Sphinkus. My mother asked me to come looking for you."
Initially, Peeves was staring at the boy, his wicked grin widening from ear to ear. He opened his mouth with the intent to spew some nefariously poetic slander, surely. But no sound came out, his mouth closed, his eyes widened and, his colourful jester's hat disappeared. In its place was revealed a very bald translucent head. His shoes, with curled tips adorned with bells also vanished and were replaced with strange sandals. Then, Peeves the thousand-year-old Hogwarts poltergeist convulsed, twisted, and warped in and over himself. While this scene was not necessarily gory, it was nonetheless quite unsettling as it looked like Peeves was dying and being born at the same time. Silence reigned in the hall, except for the few quiet gasps every so often at the strange sight. No one dared to speak, aware they were intruders or coincidental onlookers to what was clearly an exhibition of never-before-seen magic.
After what felt like a moment extended into an eternity, the poltergeist's metamorphosis was complete. What stood in his place was a bizarre sight to each and every person present in the Great Hall.
Where once was a whimsical being in eccentrically colourful transparent clothing, there stood an imposing ghostly figure, similar in constitution to the Founders that had previously appeared. Instead of Peeves, there was a man, clad in ancient leather sandals, metallic greaves and arm guards adorned with engravings representing some intimidating beast or other, long since faded, evidence of extensive use. Above the dark tunic rested a brilliant chest plate, luxuriously decorated, and equally marred. Held beneath the ghost's right arm was a spectacular gleaming helmet crested by a well-kept mane of horsehair. This was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a very important man plucked from a bygone era. Only muggleborns who had seen historical films with their parents were in any position to place the apparition before them. One particular muggleborn first year, however, was processing the significance of such an appearance and how its existence contradicted with her understanding of history in the British Isles.
While Hermione Granger was fixated on this peculiar detail, the rest of the hall, Maxximus included were drawn to the striking blue eyes ensconced in the ghost's face. Blue eyes that have only ever been seen once before. Maxximus finally understood why his village was constantly commenting on his eyes. The clarity of the blue that was gazing in his direction mimicked a most calm ocean and could shift to the colour of an especially violent lightning strike. It took quite the effort to look away. His eyes, like the rest of those seated in the hall, shifted to the next curious sight, all in unison, as if in a trance. Held on the apparition's left arm was a curved, rectangular wooden shield, about half the length of the man carrying it. This accessory would have largely gone unnoticed if it were not for the crest emblazoned upon it in vivid colours, greatly contrasting with the translucence of ex-Peeves. The crest was unmistakably a precursor to Hogwarts' own. The top left corner, home to the proud lion, on its right, the cunning serpent. The bottom right corner of the bright red wooden shield saw a sharp-witted eagle, paired with the resilient badger on its left. At first glance, one would assume the shield identical to the Hogwarts insignia but one would be incorrect as the signature H was replaced with a dazzling bronze scale. Maxximus immediately recognized this scale, a mirror image laid clutched on the cover of the book in the palm of his hand, his only remaining piece of his village and his mother.
Snapping everyone out of their trance, the ghost cleared his throat. Whether a ghost needed to clear their throat in order to better speak was not a question on the forefront of anyone's mind on this night of unexplainable events.
"Apologies for my prior disposition. The circumstances of my interment have driven me to madness during my afterlife." The ghost bowed on one knee and continued. "Greetings, Praetor Virinius Sphinkus at your service, General of the Second Magical Legion." Finally, the Praetor raised his azure eyes and absorbed his surroundings. "Again, apologies, I know not this place."
Rowena Ravenclaw, quickest to compose herself, approached the ghost of the Praetor and began to answer some of the questions the entire assembly were harbouring.
"Praetor, it is good to see you again. Godric, Helga, Salazar, and I finally built the school you envisioned. The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It has been over a millennium, but your heir has finally arrived to finish your work. I introduce you to Maxximus Alexander Sphinkus. With him, your House will at long last join ours as it should have long ago."
The words of the wisest Founder had the desired effect and recognition flickered into the eyes of the undead general.
"Little Rowena, truly it is you! Young Godric and Miss Hufflepuff! A great shame it is to have not been able to witness the pinnacle of your lives." His eyes now carried an icy quality as he found the fourth Founder, hidden away in the shadow of the corner of the hall. "Slytherin, when your Praetor beckons, you heed the call or have the years dulled your honour?"
With a clench of a ghostly jaw, the Founder in question marches towards Virinius, falls to one knee and mutters a greeting. Praetor Sphinkus, apparently adequately appeased, turns to address his heir:
"Gratitude Maxximus, for travelling all this way. Your arrival liberated me from the shackles of my madness, made real through Peeves. While the passing of moons will reconcile my memories and possibly return me to madness, I must stay true to my purpose. Before my passing, I enchanted this shield to be interred with me a fortnight after my death. I did not foresee the consequences that would ensue on my afterlife. Nonetheless, I am to pass it to you, my heir. You must take it, promptly now."
At these strange words, the headmaster interjects:
"Good evening, Praetor." Dumbledore inclines his head slightly. "Surely you are not suggesting the boy attempts to retrieve a magical artifact from a ghost. Such an occurrence is not possible. Now, while today has brought on much of the impossible, I must insist that such an artifact be carefully inspected for harmful magic before being given to our prospective new student." The end of his inquiry saw the old headmaster approaching the Roman soldier, an arm extending towards the shield.
Maxximus, who was now firmly staring at the scale on the shield was prompted to act by the advance of the headmaster in his periphery, for some reason he did not want to risk losing the shield, obviously linked to his family somehow.
"I accept the Sphinkus Shield!" and with a POP, the shield vanished from the arm of the Praetor and appeared on the arm of the boy. It was also magically resized to better accommodate his shorter stature. As soon as wood touched flesh, the castle rumbled for the second time this night, however much more aggressively. Professors were losing their footing and candelabras were falling off the tables. The floor felt like it was shifting beneath them and in fact it was. The Great Hall was getting longer. There was now quite the space between the Head Table and the four House tables. From the ground, another table emerged, parallel to the Head Table yet level with the House tables. The table began and ended in line with the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables respectively. What the professors and students did not yet know however, was that this was not the only change to have taken place in Hogwarts. A new tower was magically erected, accessible via the third floor such that it was an equal distance from all four original common rooms. Also, a fifth House Hourglass materialized in the Entrance Hall, this one was filled with white moonstones, contrasting with the Gryffindor rubies, Hufflepuff yellow diamonds, Ravenclaw sapphires and Slytherin emeralds. The Sphinkus House had officially integrated into Hogwarts.
Back in the Great Hall, once the rumbling stopped, the Sphinkus Shield began to shrink. It continued to shrink until it was no more than a band about three centimetres wide. The shrunken shield then wound itself to the top of Maxximus' left arm, beneath the shoulder, before sinking into his skin akin a tattoo.
The Five Founders, immaterial and consequently unbothered by the rumbling. waited patiently for the living attendees to regain their composure. First was Maxximus, stabilized by being the center of the magical ripple. Next, Professors McGonagall and Snape were helping the Headmaster to his feet as he took the brunt of the initial shockwave. Finally, the rest of the staff and students regained their seats and took turns staring at the new table, new ghost, and new student, unsure which was the strangest event of the night.
Rowena Ravenclaw once again took to the podium for the final time this year.
"Members of the faculty and members of the student body, the fifth Hogwarts House has joined our esteemed history. The castle's construction is finally complete. Our work is done. We will rejoin you next year for the Sorting, should you heed our earlier instruction."
As quickly as they appeared, the Founders, minus Praetor Sphinkus, returned to the Hat. At this moment, a small rumbling was heard originating from the Gryffindor table.
"I'm bloody starving, can we eat now?" moaned Ron Weasley. This earned chuckles and grumbles of agreement from the rest of the students. The theatrics of the last Sorting having taken the better part of two hours, it was very late, and the students have largely gone hungry since they embarked the Hogwarts Express at eleven o'clock that morning. Dumbledore, having smoothed his robes and straightened his beard, made his way to the podium to address the school.
"Students, my apologies, had I foreseen the unforeseeable events of the evening, I would have begun the Feast during the Sorting rather than after as is tradition. Alas, I have not, without further ado, echoing the sentiments of young Mr. Weasley, let the Feast… Begin!" At once, a veritable banquet appeared on all six of the tables in the Great Hall.
Maxximus, who was sitting by himself at his table while the Praetor appeared to stand guard, could not believe what he was seeing. Food beyond his wildest dreams lay in front of him. Never before had he seen such bounty. Only the food at his table would surely feed his entire village back home. Such a thought resurfaced sadness at the way he came to this castle. The Erumpent stampede probably left nothing for him to revisit one day. His friends were gone, their families were gone, his mother was g-. No, he would not explore that avenue. He placed his book beside him on the wooden bench and added a leg of lamb, some roasted vegetables, and some bread to his plate before taking a bite out of the meat. As much as he wanted to indulge in his melancholy, he could not deny that this was the best food to have ever tantalized his palate. His hunger, accumulated throughout the day, finally caught up to him and he began eating with more gusto. Meanwhile, conversation was running rampant around the other tables. Maxximus, however, failed to notice the pointed stare from the young turbaned professor, his guardian did not and tapped his fingers soundlessly on his helmet.
Once dessert was served the Headmaster, again, made his way to the lectern for his welcome speech.
"It is with full bellies, light conversation, and now heavy eyes, that I would like to welcome our new students to Hogwarts and to everyone else, welcome back. Before we recuse ourselves for the night, I have a few important announcements to make: First, a warm welcome to Professor Quirinus Quirrell, who has graciously taken on the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts this year." The man with the turban briefly stood and inclined his head slightly towards the room. "Secondly, a reminder that the Forbidden Forest is indeed Forbidden. Thirdly, I caution all of you to avoid the third-floor corridor on the right of the castle, misadventures may have severe consequences. Lastly, I would urge all of you to treat our newest student and reborn ghost with the same courtesy as any of your peers, and, in honour of such a momentous day, tomorrow morning's classes are all cancelled, and breakfast will be held until noon for those of you who wish to dream a little longer tonight. Go forth students, sleep soundly for this year will surely be filled with lessons for us all."
Dumbledore's speech concluded, Prefects from the other houses took their cue to begin escorting the students to the dormitories leaving Maxximus alone with the Professors. The old wizard, having not yet left his position on the podium turned to address the boy himself.
"Young Maxximus, am I correct in assuming you have not been informed as to the materials required to complete this year's curriculum?" A quick nod urged the Headmaster to continue.
"That is quite alright, Professor Quirrell has already volunteered to accompany you to Diagon Alley, after breakfast, tomorrow morning. I would surmise your relative will be able to guide you to your dormitory for I confess I do not know where it would be. It seems the castle has yet a few secrets for me to discover as well. Dream of better days Maxximus, this day has been quite an ordeal for all of us and you, especially. We will meet again soon."
"Boy! Follow now! The day's burdens weigh heavy on heart and mind. Retreat to the comfort of slumber to face the coming day with renewed vigor!" The reborn ghost barked as he turned on his heels and began marching out of the hall, not bothering to check if Maxximus was following.
Maxximus, not wanting to stray from this last, very strange, member of his family, and more importantly not wanting to get lost in the massive foreign castle, needed to follow at a light jog. The Praetor, never needing rest, did not change his pace until they both arrived in front of a door on the third floor.
The door in question was a sturdy, large, dark wooden construction. In its center was another bronze scale, identical to the one on the cover of his book and on his shield now hidden on his arm. Beneath the scale, however, was a glass panel. Behind the panel, was a rectangular space, carved into the wood of the door but not going all the way through. Four flasks of varying shapes and sizes rested in the space behind the glass, all containing an equal amount of bright white liquid. The door was not locked.
Maxximus, eager to finally rest his head anywhere, pushed the door open. First, he was greeted with the smell of fresh air not unfamiliar to him. Stepping inside the room, he was surprised to see a miniature replica of the oasis from his village, the entire setting scaled down to fit in the center of the common space. The water behaving as a small pool surrounded by fresh grasses and short fruit producing trees. A small piece of home in this foreign land. Around the oasis, the floor was a barren compacted earth with large stones seemingly naturally shaped into tables and chairs scattered around the walls of the circular room. Atop the seats of the chairs was a very comfortable looking carpet of mosslike plants.
After taking a quick bath in the oasis, the smell of fear and sweat replaced with a light citrus aroma saw Maxximus take the steps upwards to what was surely the dormitories. On his left he found another much smaller door labelled 'M. A. S.' and opened it. In the center of his personal bedroom was a large four-poster bed with sandy coloured bedding, folded neatly atop the bed was a perfectly sized, clean shenti, identical to the one he wore upon entering the castle. Changing quickly and climbing into bed, he was too tired to notice that he also had a small desk and empty bookshelf in the room. Maxximus was asleep almost instantly and dreamt of his village, magic sticks and savoury foods while the ghost of Praetor Virinius Sphinkus explored the castle where he would have to call home.