Chapter One.

The fire raged through the hall as he ducked under a wild swing of a bloody fist, about him he could see the grisly remnants of the beast's handiwork. His friends ran between the lumbering monstrosities as they sought to escape the rending claws and gnashing teeth, but one by one they soon found themselves snared by the brutish Trolls.

Callian could do little more than stare stupidly as the bellowing roars seemed to pierce him in place as he looked up into the wide, fanged maw of one of the ugly faces. He could do little more than scream as the beast's greasy, cold hands clamped around him and brought him screaming to its mouth.

He woke with a cry and struggled desperately against the tight fingers that held him, a few desperate heartbeats passed before he realised that he was merely tangled in his sheets and not in danger of being eaten alive by a thrice-damned Troll. A flicker of thought and he conjured a small globe of light to hover in the air above his head, he squinted against the sudden light and took a few moments to focus his eyes enough to read the small clock that sat upon his bedside table.

He groaned as he pushed himself up enough to swing his legs over the edge of his bed, and shot a dark look at the small clock that revealed it was only half-past four in the morning.

Pushing himself from his bed he stumbled from his room after managing to pull on a simple pair of linen trousers, it was not long before he was making his way out into the quiet halls of his home.

His bare feet made quiet footfalls as he made his way along familiar corridors, he was content to let his feet wander. He had no set destination in mind, he merely sought the peace that the early morning offered him.

It had been two days since they had left the school. Two days in which his family were left to deal with the fallout of all they had learned. Harry and the remnant of his mother's soul had sequestered themselves in his rooms and only left for food when both his mother and Callian's urged him to. Yet his friend seemed to be revelling in his cohabitation, and he had never seen Harry this happy in the short time that he had known the boy. Draco had barely left his mother's side and Narcissa had seemed to become a permanent resident of the Castle overnight. Adria and Hermione had tried to stay out of everyone's way as their parents tried to make sense of just what was happening.

Callian could only shake his head at the madness of it all, but the one thought that lingered most upon his mind was that of his father's innocence.

Ever since he had learned of the man's supposed crimes he had hated Sirius Black, it had been one of the most defining and guiding points of his life. He had strived to be better than the man that had sired him, to never turn his back upon his friends and family as the world believed the man had done.

He found himself nearing the kitchens when he, at last, paid attention to where he was, it seemed that whoever was working the kitchen detail among the apprentices was already hard at work if the noise was anything to go by.

Stepping into the light and noise of the Kitchen proper he found himself staring at the small form of Keeky standing upon a table as the House-Elf waved her hands like a conductor at work. A multitude of boiling pots and sizzling pans, dicing knives and skewered meats whirled about her in an incredible dance. He found his control of his globe of light winking out, as he stared in wonder at what the small creature was orchestrating.

As soon as the young House-elf spotted him the dance froze before everything slowly lowered down, yet still they moved just with a more subtle pace.

"Young Master should still be sleeping. Mistress Amerytha said there are many things to do today and you will be needing your strength."

Callian just summoned a stool to sit upon as he sat down before Keeky. "I know, but I was having trouble sleeping." He picked up a teapot hoping to find something soothing and hot to drink, only to find it empty.

Keeky let out a little squeak before her arms moved in a frenzy and in short order he had a plate laden with seasoned bacon, cooked to perfection along with slices of warm bread, jams and a small mountain of scrambled eggs. Two steaming pots of tea flew from the other side of the room and had to duck to avoid a flying mug from the piles of cleaned plates and dishes. He could only laugh as Keeky gave a great cry, but it quickly disappeared as the House-elf made to throw herself from the table in horror, and had to catch the House-elf in mid-leap.

Setting her back down, he stared down at the bowed bald head of the creature.

"Look at me." His words carried with them all the authority he could muster and Keeky's head snapped up to stare at him with wide and terrified eyes.

He stared at her for several long heartbeats and felt his skin crawl at the thought of the power he held over her. With a word, he could demand her death and she would do everything in her power to make it come to pass.

Whatever Magics had gone into the creation of the House-elves was a thing of wonder, but it made them utterly subservient to Magi they were bound to. He was both awed and horrified at the Magics that made up the small form before him.

"You are never to punish yourself. Ever!"

A few of the pots and plates spread out about them began to shake as his tired mind brought the full weight of his power crashing down upon the world about them and Keeky began to tremble in fear as his blue-grey eyes bored into her.

Softening his tone once he saw the fear and panic in her gaze he offered her a small smile. "You may serve this family, Keeky. But you are a part of it just as any other and I will not see you come to harm."

The small elf bowed her head and Callian felt his heart lurch as he spotted the first few glittering drops fall onto the tabletop before him.

Reaching out he lifted her small face to stare up into his own. "Promise me, Keeky. You will not harm yourself again."

With a sob, Keeky made her promise and Callian found himself with his arms full once the small creature launched itself at him. "I promise, young Master. Keeky will never hurt herself again."

Callian just offered her soothing words but eventually, the House-elf managed to regain her composure and with a blush and small curtsy went back to work without another word. Returning to his food he found his mind wandering as his thoughts once more turned to everything that he had learned only a few short days ago.

While thoughts of the man that had sired him still troubled him, it was his interactions with Delvaryn that lingered at the forefront of his mind. He had explained to his family all that had transpired within the forest, and Belor and Tyrna had been ecstatic at the news that Delvaryn wished to commune with the Clan. They had begun to issue instructions to summon leaders and priests from as many neighbouring clans as it was possible too on such short notice, but it seemed that his mother and Grandfather were not so keen upon the idea of their son and heir acting as a conduit for a power far beyond anything they had experienced before.

He knew his grandfather had begun to search for any information about these Accords that bound the so-called Gods of the world, but as of yet had found almost nothing of worth.

A commotion behind him had him turning away from his now empty plate to stare back into the darkness of the corridor that led from the kitchens, he could just make out the silhouette of someone with their wand aglow with light.

He smiled when he saw that it was Harry that stepped into the light of the kitchens, yet it was Harry's open-mouthed shock expression that reminded Callian he had forgotten to put on a shirt.

"They said you carried scars from what happened in the forest, but I didn't think it was this bad."

Callian dearly wished he had not forgotten to wear a shirt and sent a silent curse at the summer heat.

He looked down at his own body as Harry continued to stare. Great silvery scars ran across his body, he idly pressed a hand to the largest rent in his abdomen. They carried a residual ache when he pressed them and he jerked as an echo of the pain he had felt flashed through his mind. Thankfully, whatever Magic Delvaryn had used was still at work and the scars were fading, but he doubted they would ever truly disappear.

"They're not as bad as they look." He lied while offering his friend a small smile. "I did not think to see you up this early." He said, seeking to change the subject.

Harry gave his head a shake as he took a seat beside him, his friend looked weary and Callian recognised the look from staring in the mirror.

"Nightmares." That was all Harry said by way of answer. Callian could only nod as he shot his cousin an inquisitive look.

"Voldemort?"

Harry nodded with a haunted look before he turned back to Callian. "Was it him for you too?" He asked, that haunted look still upon his face.

Callian just shook his head, earning him a small frown.

"Trolls again." He grunted, eliciting a grim laugh from his friend.

He shot Harry a frown as the dark-haired boy only laughed harder once he saw Callian's expression.

Harry could only wave his hands in his direction as his laughter took on a lighter and freer quality, eventually, he managed to calm enough although a few small chuckles still escaped him.

Looking into Callian's frowning face Harry let out one last chuckle. "Of all the things we went through last year, between the conversations with Gods, fighting Dark Lords and corrupted students on top of more near-death experiences than I care to admit. It's the trolls that seem to bother you the most."

Callian could not stop the sardonic smile that twitched at his lips, his friend had a point. Of all the things that they had faced over the last few months the trolls lingered most in his mind, he would always remember the gruesome sight of the troll bringing the screaming impaled professor to its maw and silencing him forever with one bite.

He had never been a stranger to death. He had seen more than his fair share of it over his short life. Yet there was something inherently different when he had been in the thick of things, and he knew with a certainty that if not for the vileness of the Dark Lord that he had sensed and caused him to tumble then it would have been him skewered upon the Trolls claws.

He could only shake his head to try and dislodge the memories of that night, the damn things haunted his dreams enough as it was he would not let them bother him during his waking hours.

Looking back at Harry once more, he shot the boy a questioning look. "I thought since everything happened." He waved his hand in the direction of Harry's head as if that would explain it for him. "your nightmares have stopped."

This time it was Harry's turn to smile grimly. "They have for the most part. Mum's been teaching me what occlumency she can, and between her and your mum it is helping but occasionally things still get through."

Callian shot him a sideways glance once he turned back to his tea, "And how is your mother?" he asked carefully.

Harry shot him a knowing look, he had never felt easy that Lily Potter's Spirit seemed to be rattling around in his friend's head.

"She is currently sleeping, it's the oddest feeling I have ever felt. If I look closely I can see what she is dreaming about." A flash of horror flitted across his face so fast that Callian almost thought he had been seeing things.

"She dreams about him sometimes…" It came out as a whisper, so soft and quiet it was barely audible above the clamour that filled the kitchen.

"Voldemort?" He asked, already knowing in his heart that he was right.

Harry nodded once, his voice so quiet that Callian struggled to hear him.

"She held him for ten years, every second she fought him to keep me safe." Harry's eyes were closed now as his face twisted with some unseen pain before he continued. "I see flickers of what she went through sometimes, images of what that fragment of him did to her. He made her relive her death again and again. Showed her images of my dad covered in blood, cursing her for her muggle parents, cursing her for being the reason he was dead. She has tried to hide it from me, but I can see she still is not free of him."

Opening his eyes, Callian could see the unshed tears that threatened to fall. Gently he rested his hand upon Harry's shoulder, "Have you spoken to her about all this? What about my mother?"

Harry just gave a slow shake of his head but did not say anything further. Callian just gave his friend's shoulder a gentle shake. "Give it some thought, they may be able to help her."

Harry remained quiet and returned to the food on his plate, although his friend did little more than pick at his breakfast.

Seeking a way to cheer his friend from his melancholy-ridden thoughts, Callian abruptly stood before pulling Harry to his feet.

His friend only had time to look momentarily alarmed before he began shoving Harry in the direction of the servants' door that let out onto a covered walkway that connected to a small vegetable garden.

Eventually, he stopped pushing his friend onwards and Harry stumbled when he removed his hand, he ignored his friend's questions of just what was going on but was silenced when Callian began to draw upon his Magic.

Closing his eyes to the material world about him, Callian reached for that place of power within himself. His Reservoir glowed brightly to his mind's eye, and as his mind touched upon that power he felt energy flood his body. It coursed through him like liquid lightning, pushing back the weariness that still clung to his mind and he took a deep breath of the cool, clean summer air. He smiled as the pleasure of his Magic coursed through him before turning his focus to his Spellweaving.

Carefully he wove his spells, a complicated knot of Magic that he imbued with the image of what he desired. To his mind's eye, it resembled a many-legged spider, its great body wrapped about the image he had placed within before he sent it out into the world.

Opening his eyes once more he found Harry following the path of his spells as they flew through the air.

His friend just shot him an inquisitive look as he asked. "Summoning spells? They're different to the ones you've shown me before"

Callian gave his friend an approving smile. "Very good, but can you tell what was different about them?"

Harry just shook his head in exasperation and Callian had to fight back a smile. All their lessons had been like this, whenever Harry asked him a question he would lead Harry into solving it himself.

It took him a few minutes to puzzle out what he had seen, but eventually, Harry answered him. "The heart of the Weave is the same as what you have shown me in the past, but the rest of it is unlike anything I have seen before. It felt almost as if it was designed to search more than anything else?"

Callian nodded his head as a faint whistling could be heard, steadily growing louder. Looking up he pointed at two brooms that were hurtling towards them at high speed.

"You are spot on. The central weave is designed to act like any other summoning spell, but the outer Weave I layered over it is in simple terms, a seek and deliver construct."

Holding his arm out he gently pushed Harry back as two brooms suddenly came to a halt where they had just been standing.

"I have yet to learn how to imprint a person as the recipient, I can never seem to get it to work right."

Harry barked a laugh at that as he plucked the broom from the air. "It's good to know that even you struggle sometimes, I was starting to think that you are perfect at everything."

Callian just snorted at that as he mounted his broom. "I've had control of my Gifts since I was eight, when it comes to using Spellweaving things just seem to click. I can study a Weave for a few hours and replicate it almost exactly, but when it comes to things like potions and herbology I have to slog through it just like everybody else."

With a grin, Harry shot up into the air like a rocket, before he called over his shoulder. "And don't forget flying, Cal!"

With a laugh, he too shot upwards hurtling towards Harry, his friend's skill on a broom already far surpassing his own. Back at the school, they had taken every opportunity they could get to fly, both of them had enjoyed the feel of the wind tearing past them as they raced at breakneck speeds. Yet it had become apparent very quickly that Harry was the better flier, his friend would always normally win their races. Often, by pulling some nail-biting stunt that would have given his mother a heart attack if she had seen them.

Together the two of them tore through the skies. Each wrapped in a thin layer of Weaves to ward off the winds but slowly putting the nightmares of the past behind them if only for a time.

They spent several hours just enjoying the flight, content to let the winds take their worries from them if only for a time. Unfortunately, they could not spend all of their time in the air, and soon the weight of their duties carried them back to the ground once more.

His mother found them soon after they had landed; she had already dispatched Isson Gravius to the Ministry to fetch their guests.

His thoughts turned to what he had learned lay buried far below the streets of London, his stolen memories he had acquired from the Unspeakable had revealed the existence of an ancient structure far below the earth. The Department of Mysteries had been trying to uncover the secrets the Archway contained for centuries with little luck, but that had all changed only a few short days ago.

The Unspeakable that had been trying to peer into his mind had inadvertently revealed many of the department's secrets to him after he had returned the attack in kind. He could still recall the woman's heart-stopping fear of the strange entity that had been trying to break through the breach into their world.

It had not taken him long to piece together just what the Archway represented after his conversation with The Seeker of Secrets, Delvaryn had explained that the Gods were barred from the realms of men following these Accords that had happened millennia ago. Many had been driven mad after they had become trapped in the Veil. The same Veil that the Archway hidden the bowels of the Ministry seemed to be connected to. Somehow they had in their possession a literal doorway into or through the Veil, and what he could only surmise had been one of the Mad Gods had come knocking.

His mother with his insistence had none to gently informed Elspeth Moore, the Unspeakable that had tried to breach his mind that she and one other of her department were to come to the Castle so that they could discuss all that had transpired.

It was not a meeting that he was looking forward to, but nonetheless, it was necessary. He and his family had no love for the Ministry, but with the return of the Dark Lord, they could not risk leaving a potential danger at their backs.

Once he was dressed in a simple but quality tunic and trews he set off for the entrance hall where his family awaited the new arrivals. Using the many Portal Circles throughout the castle he was at his mother's side in a matter of minutes.

He found himself oddly nervous as they waited for the arrival of the Unspeakables, from his position beside his mother and grandfather he watched as the familiar form of Gravius walked alongside two black-robed individuals through the great doors of the Castle.

He recognised the angular features of Elsbeth Moore and at her side walked a small man who he could only describe as utterly bland and unassuming.

Round-faced with mousy brown hair, there was nothing about the man that stood out. He would not even have noticed the man if he had been standing in a crowd, yet the longer he looked the more he began to sense something was subtly off about the man.

His grandfather let out a growl as he stared hard at the smaller Unspeakable, who merely smiled genially and bowed his head in Denevan's direction.

"Croaker."

Callian could only blink in astonishment at the anger that filled his grandfather's voice.

It appeared he was not the only one to be surprised by the hostility that oozed from his grandfather, as both Gravius and Moore eyed the powerful figure wearily. His mother, however, eyed the man with just as much anger as her father.

"Lord and Lady Blackwood. It is a pleasure to see you again, if once more for the actions of a member of your House."

He felt a swell of such power from his grandfather, that the world seemed to become a darker place as his anger seeped into the world about him. The full weight of it crashed over them all, and he watched as Harry shrank in on himself as did Elspeth and even he moved closer to his mother's side. His grandfather's anger only grew hotter until Callian felt the man's rage like a burning brand hovering at the edges of his mind, the only ones who seemed unaffected by it were Gravius, his mother and the Unspeakable known as Croaker.

The man merely continued to smile politely as he looked at the Lord Blackwood expectantly, with an effort Denevan seemed to control his fury as he suppressed his Magic until it was as if it had never been there.

The man seemed unable to speak though so his mother stepped forward after placing a comforting hand upon her father's arm.

"I bid you welcome to our home, we have much to discuss so if you will follow Isson he will escort you to somewhere a little more comfortable."

The Unspeakable gave polite bows of their heads before following the Italian wizard deeper into the castle, once they were out of earshot Callian shared a quick look with Harry before they turned to stare at the rest of their family.

His grandfather remained silent and just continued to glare at the retreating back of the Unspeakable, his mother however took pity on them and explained.

"Saul Croaker is a loathsome little man. It was he that the Ministry sent to investigate what happened on the night-"

She cut off as a flash of pain danced across her fine features before taking a deep breath and continuing. "On the night that my mother, your grandmother was taken from us. His insinuations about her and what she had been orchestrating had nearly caused your grandfather to- "

"I wanted to burn the little shitstain to a crisp. If Belor had not thrown him from our lands I would have."

With the way that his grandfather's fiery gaze continued to try and bore its way through Croaker's retreating skull, he believed the man. With a last nervous look at Harry they followed his family after the retreating Unspeakables.