Harry Potter and the Era of Hogwarts

Chapter 5 - Gathering of Lords

August 19th, 963

Not a word could be deciphered from the long transparent black smears that used to be the words. Hurriedly I dropped the book and summoned the next in the series, frantically flicking through the pages. Every word of the text was blurred.

“Fuck!” I shouted and in my anger I threw my book against the wall as hard as I could, hardly causing the book damage, much to my relief…and regret.

The unwelcome discovery that the future was fuzzy was not at all appealing to me. Although I doubted that my presence in this time was having any true effects that weren't meant to be in the first place, I theorized that the future hadn't played out yet, though it was written. While comforting to know that the future would still exist when I found a way back, the fact that I wasn't able to read about it, nor did I listen in lessons which would still be valid now was rather disconcerting.

A theory is a theory though, and theories can be proved incorrect. It's also possible that the future is uncertain, and any large or small actions could have vastly reaching effects as the Butterfly effect suggests: a butterfly flaps its wings and a storm begins to form on the opposite side of the world. It's also possible that I was sent here for a reason, and that I had already been back into time, thus changing the world to the one I lived in today. Perhaps originally Hogwarts never started and my going back into time made it possible. It certainly was a possible theory, as it was highly likely that Rowena would have been administered the Dementor's Kiss.

Or yet another theory is that my arrival back in time split the timeline, creating an entirely new timeline in an effort to preserve time as it was. Then again Muggles had a theory that an infinite number of parallel universes were created each time a decision was made, all containing a different course of action that could have been taken. Such as I could have accepted Voldemort's offer in first year, Draco Malfoy's friendship, or Grindelwald could have defeated Albus and plunged the world into absolute darkness.

The fact was that I had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on. For a Slytherin, that was a very scary prospect indeed. I would simply have to find out which of my theories are correct when I returned to the future…that is if I ever did. One thing I did know now was that Hogwarts had not been built yet…or if the castle was built, there was no school operating out of it. As it is, Rowena is far too young and uneducated to run a school. Currently, she was simply an extremely smart, curious girl who was completing an Apprenticeship in Healing.

I also realized my mistake by telling Galena to have Rowena come to my home at four in the afternoon. As advanced as the times seemed to be, the wizards of the Middle Ages still used sundials, but as Rowena is extremely intelligent, I have no doubt that she'll easily put two and two together and determine that 'four in the afternoon' is four hours after midday, and if she didn't I'd be extremely surprised. After all, Alvin was a muggle and told me the time was eight in the morning.

After my little tirade I settled down and replaced the abused history book back onto its shelf and pulled out another on Ancient Egyptian and began to read, curled up on a comfortable emerald green love seat.

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August 22nd, 963

After reading in the library for almost two days straight I'm feeling a growing sense of restlessness. Fortunately, I had found references to a book called Magus Proelium, an ancient book on magical war tactics and spells employed by Aurors of old. The book should be an interesting read, not to mention useful against Voldemort and his band of merry men. From the book I had bought on (ironically) rare books, it said that the text resided in a manor somewhere near Dover, which was now my first place to begin searching for both Magus Proelium and additional tombs of interest.

Preparing for the trip into the medieval muggle world, I transfigured a pair of black robes into an emerald green tunic with silver trim, my shoes into brown boots, and a cloak into a long black coat. I had also brought plenty of pounds, shillings, pennies, halfpennies, and farthings for Muggles, as well as galleons, sickles, and knuts for Wizards. After all, one only knows when they might have to buy something.

I donned the transfigured clothing, and pocketed the two bags of assorted currency in two separate pockets, left for Wizarding and right for Muggle. Pulling my Apparition field around me I brought myself into limbo to attempt a point jump, or the use of an Apparition Point. Mentally, I concentrated on the name Dover and to my surprise I felt a tingly hand against the beginning of my tunnel which guided it to point in a direction I assumed was southeast. The tunnel expanded forward and I quickly accelerated to the end, where I appeared with a quiet pop at an empty room not a second after I began the process. It wasn't quite a silent apparition yet, but very close.

The medium size room was made of a grey cement of some kind which completely bare save for a wooden door with a round iron handle. The room could hold about fifty people comfortably, and perhaps twenty inexperienced people could Apparate at once. A thin layer of dust was settled on the ground, suggesting that no one had been there in quite a while. I walked from the middle of the room leaving footprints in the dust with each step toward the door. I grabbed the door and pulled, wincing as the door gave a loud groan of protest at being moved.

As soon as the door had been opened I was immediately bombarded with scents of food and sewage. I wrinkled my nose slightly and cast a temporary air filtration charm which would purify any air within the body-sized invisible bubble that surrounded me. I took a deep breath as the lingering scents fled leaving me with fresh, clean air. The first thing I noticed about the town when I looked at what appeared to be the town's high street was how dark it seemed. The ominous, light grey clouds that blocked the sun may have had something to do with it, but the main factor was simply how dingy the entire town looked. Everything was faded, the wood, the stone, and the straw. It all looked so dead and lifeless, despite the fact the high street was nearly overflowing with carriages, people, and animals. The people were obviously peasants if their ragged, torn, and dirty clothes were anything to go by; Dudley's hand-me-downs looked good by comparison. The carriages held the rich and the royal, and all of them appeared to be heading in the same direction. Curious I stepped out of the door frame, closed the door, and walked after the carriages.

Once on the dusty road that was the High Street of Dover I began walking after the carriages, garnering a few stares from the peasants with my obviously high quality coat. I, however, was nonplussed and continued down the drive until the carriages turned onto a winding drive. About ten miles ahead up on a hill was a large, grey, castle like manor. Or perhaps it was a castle; after all it's very hard to see at ten miles.

I continued my hike, watching as the carriages sped past me up the drive. However, one carriage pulled up beside me and stopped. I turned toward it, and the small wooden door opened revealing a tall young man, about six feet in height with jet black hair, blue eyes, and the unblemished skin of an aristocrat. I inclined my head toward the man.

“Greetings,” I said.

The man inclined his head in return.

“Greetings, I am Lord Andrew Zabini,” he replied.

Outwardly I showed no surprise at the name, but inwardly my mind's eyebrows had nearly climbed into my hair. It was highly possible that one of my classmates, Blaise Zabini, was a descendant of this man. Blaise Zabini also happened to be part of a magical pureblood family, which also suggested that this man was a wizard or at least a squib.

“Lord Phineas Criterion, a pleasure to meet you,” I replied. It couldn't hurt to have the respect of this man as a fellow Lord.

Lord Zabini smiled a bit, “Would you like to share my carriage to the Hartman Manor?”

I smiled back, “Of course, my thanks Lord Zabini.”

I climbed into the carriage and sat on the red velvet seat opposite Lord Zabini, sighing in contentment as I sank into the comfortable seat. However as I used this stalling tactic, I located a long, round bump in Andrew Zabini's white shirt of a wand and the hard to miss sword scabbard at his side. Andrew Zabini's voice brought me out of my assessment.

“Lord Criterion, would there be a reason you do not have your own carriage?” Lord Zabini asked.

I nodded, “Indeed Lord Zabini, I simply wanted some exercise.”

He nodded in affirmation, but looked slightly suspicious. We sat in silence for some time before I decided it was time to let Lord Zabini know that I was magical, as he could possibly aid me in my quest for ancient books, or perhaps even become a powerful magical ally.

“Lord Zabini, you are a wizard are you not?” I said.

Of course I predicted his response well. His eyes went wide with fright and he paled dramatically before beginning to shake. He obviously thought I was going to expose him to the church or some nonsense. To placate him I raised my right arm and let my yew wand spring into my hand before returning back to its holster. Lord Zabini breathed a sigh of relief and color returned to his cheeks.

“You frightened me Lord Criterion, I believed you would tell the church of my gift,” he said.

I smiled a bit, “I apologize for frightening you, but the chance to talk to another Lord who is a wizard is a temptation hard to ignore.”

He smiled and nodded before rearranging himself in his seat.

“I understand Lord Criterion, I myself feel the same way many a time, but I worry if I was incorrect when confronting another Lord I would be exposed and my family shamed, not to mention exiled,” Lord Zabini replied.

I nodded in comprehension.

“Indeed Lord Zabini, but I insist you call me Phineas,” I replied.

“Then I insist you call me Andrew.”

“Well Andrew, what is the event at the Hartman manor tonight?” I asked curiously.

Andrew looked faintly surprised.

“You mean you don't know? Tonight is the annual Gathering of Lords to discuss problems and solutions that many of us have,” Andrew said.

“Ah…I see. I was looking for a book Magus Proelium as it said one of the last copies was known to reside in manor around Dover,” I replied.

Andrew smirked a bit.

“I've heard of that book. William Hartman owns it, but he said that the book wouldn't open for him. Perhaps he would be willing to part with it. I'll introduce you tonight after the meeting,” Andrew said.

I nodded in thanks and thought a bit before asking my next question.

“How did you discover you were magical Andrew? Did you have magical parents to explain it to you?” I asked.

Andrew's eyes glazed over slightly and he smiled as if he were reliving a good memory.

“A wizard witnessed some of my accidental magic and I became his Apprentice for seven years. I'm what is known as a muggleborn wizard,” Andrew said.

I smiled and nodded, filing that information away for future use. We both sat in companionable silence for the remainder of the trip.

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We arrived in front of stone masterpieces that could be called steps, opposite a large marble fountain of an angel. A butler opened the door to the carriage and I let Andrew step out first, followed by myself. We were led to the large wooden door by the butler and he drew out a list. Andrew spoke before the butler could ask anything.

“Lord Andrew Zabini and my guest, Lord Phineas Criterion,” Lord Zabini said.

The butler nodded, crossed off a name, and wrote something before ushering us through into the entrance hall where another servant took our jackets. I stared in awe at the high, vaulted ceilings with frescoes and the walls covered by elegant tapestries. We were directed into a party hall of sorts with a large chandelier, hors d'oeuvre set upon a long table covered by a white tablecloth, and the end having assorted alcohols, though Champaign seemed to be the drink of choice for most.

The Lords stood in various groups, sipping their Champaign and laughing heartily at one thing or another while the Ladies all stood in one corner gossiping amongst themselves, giggling. Andrew and I walked to the end of the long table and each took a glass of Champaign. I myself had never had alcohol before, but with Tom's experience at many of the Pureblood Family parties I knew only to sip the sparkling drink or I would risk intoxicating myself prematurely.

I then followed Andrew to one of the smaller groups of Lords, though not nearly the smallest of them. Out of the four easily definable groups, there was a large group which had nearly half of the Lords currently in attendance, a smaller group but still commanded a large portion of the attendees, the group we were heading towards was slightly smaller than that group, and finally the smallest group which had very few people compared to the other groups. Andrew nudged me slightly.

“The large group is the Lords for imposing extra taxes upon peasants and the lower Lords, the next group is for leaving the taxes as they are, the group we are heading towards is the neutral group, and the smallest group is for lowering the taxes,” Andrew muttered to me out of the corner of his mouth.

I processed this information quickly and nodded. I would prefer holding a neutral stand in topic of taxes as I had no intention of revealing too much information. We arrived at the neutral party and I was pleasantly surprised to hear the Lords jesting with one another as well as discussing what were considered controversial topics with one another. Andrew stepped into the group and was greeting warmly, or as warm as Lords could amongst a group. I was content to simply observe the groups however and I proceeded to do so until Andrew and another person entered my peripheral vision and I turned.

“Ah, Lord William Hartman, meet my guest tonight, Lord Phineas Criterion,” Andrew said cheerfully.

I inclined my head in greeting and extended my hand, which Lord Hartman shook without hesitation.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance Lord Hartman,” I spoke as diplomatically as possible, my voice rolling out like velvet.

“No, the pleasure is mine Lord Criterion. I understand you are interesting in acquiring a certain book of mine,” Lord Hartman asked knowingly.

“Indeed I am Lord Hartman. Most recently I have been finding myself collecting books of all types and Magus Proelium roused my interest with such a strange title. Whom besides a writer of children's fantasies name a book 'Magical Battle'? However it does not seem to be a children's book,” I said curiously.

“You are correct Lord Criterion, quite curious indeed. Perhaps the book is about wizard battle tactics!” Lord Hartman laughed.

Both Andrew and I laughed heartily along with him. The irony of the situation was just too amusing, two wizards talking to a muggle about a book that he had jestingly suggested was about wizard battle tactics, of which he wasn't far off. The three of us stopped laughing and Lord Hartman spoke again.

“As fun as this has been gentlemen, I believe it is time to call the meeting to order. We shall have to speak again after the meeting,” Lord Hartman said before walking a short ways up a red velvet covered staircase.

The chatter immediately ceased and Lord Hartman cleared his voice.

“Greetings my fellow Lords, I would like to say just how pleased I am to see all of you here tonight for the annual Gathering of Lords. If you would please follow me to meeting hall now the Gathering is just about to begin, Ladies there is a sitting room for your use,” Lord Hartman said.

The Lords finished up their drinks and placed their glasses on the long table. We were then directed out of the hall by Lord Hartman while the Ladies were ushered out another door by a servant. Andrew and I walked side by side as we moved further into the castle and down sloping, dark passageways into the underground. Finally we walked into a large, an uncharacteristically bright room with three large crystal and gold chandeliers hanging off the ceiling to make a triangle pattern. A large rectangular table made of mahogany stood in the center of the room, though it had no center. On the floor was a raised platform made of stone for whoever was presenting issues, most likely a scribe. In one side of the table there was a walkway to the floor in between the four sides of the table. Each chair was straight, high-backed and upholstered in red velvet.

I followed Andrew and the rest of the neutral group to the end of the table closest the door and sat next to Andrew and another man who looked a lot like a Malfoy without the sinister disposition. I turned toward him and spoke.

“Greetings, I am Lord Phineas Criterion,” I said pleasantly.

The man turned toward me and gazed at me with bright azure eyes. He smiled cheerfully and replied back.

“A pleasure to meet you Lord Criterion, I am Lord Cirrus Valdez,” He replied jovially.

Well it appears that Lords can be friendly, perhaps only to their own, but friendly all the same. I was about to engage him in conversation but a scribe had walked into the space between the inside of the table.

“Ah, the meeting is about to start Lord Valdez, perhaps we can talk later after the proceedings?” I asked.

He nodded and the scribe cleared his throat.

“The Gathering of Lords, 22nd August of the year 963 is now is session,” the boy said taking a deep breath, “First issue is of the tax increase, Lord Salivant would you please explain?”

A medium sized blonde haired man at the opposite side of the table stood up and shuffled a sheaf of parchment.

“Lords, today I stand before you requesting that we as a civilized, collective body increase taxes on peasants. Recently rare items such as silk and spices have dramatically increased in price, and purchasing them has begun to wear heavily upon our incomes. From my assistant I have learned that with the consistent purchase of equal amounts of several rare goods for three months, the price has risen so severely that my family has sustained a seventeen percent drop in our income,” Lord Salivant glanced towards the other attendees, “this is unacceptable, and I have no doubt that this has already affected most if not all of you, so I urge you to vote to increase taxes at the next tax culling. Thank you.”

Frenzied murmurs broke out across the table, each Lord trying to get his say in with his group. The murmurs slowly grew in volume and before my eyes I watched as the conversations were overheard by other groups which quickly began a shouting war between them. However, the neutrals sat serenely, watching the proceedings with annoyance and some amusement. My ire also grew and unconsciously my hands balled into fists. I slammed one of my fists into the table, causing a sharp thump and high pitched ring of glass bottles hitting one another.

“ENOUGH!” I cried.

The shouting ceased and all attention was drawn to me.

“If you will, please attempt to cease your ungodly squabbling, for I and others grow tired of it,” I said to the collective body of Lords, “Had I wished to witness petulant school children fighting I would have done so elsewhere, not at the annual Gathering of Lords. If you wish to continue to do so, I will be taking my leave, and I doubt many will be far behind me. Now if you are done, act as someone befitting your station, as a Lord of the Gathering, not a child.”

Nods broke out around the table as the truth of my statement struck a chord with most. The room settled down and looked at me.

“Now if we could discuss this like civilized gentleman, please begin with the counter-statement from the supporters of not increasing the tax,” I said smoothly.

A generously proportioned man with graying hair stood up and picked up a sheet of parchment.

“I, on behalf on the Lords who are against the motion for increasing taxes wish to say the following. We believe that increasing taxes will unnecessarily strain the finances of peasants further than they already are. As it is, they can hardly feed themselves and their children. Doing so would only further embitter them toward us, possibly sparking a rebellion amongst them. Thank you,” the man said.

There was some scattered applause and the man sat down. The scribe in the center of the room once more made himself apparent and other servants passing small slips to each of the gathering's attendees.

“Lords, if you will, please write your vote on the slip provided, using either 'for' or 'against' to state your standing on the Motion for Increase of Taxes. If you do not wish to vote, please leave your ballot blank and it will be counted as neutral,” the scribe said.

Quills at each place were quickly dipped in ink as the Lords scratched their votes onto the small slips of parchment. Soon the scribe picked up a wooden box and each of the Lords put their ballots into the box in turn until all were collected. I noticed that barely any of the neutral members had even bothered to ink their quills, which was rather surprising after the rather passionate speech Lord Salivant had presented. The scribe left the room to tally the votes and the Lords began to speak with one another awaiting the results from the vote.

Andrew apparently had to use the bathroom, and got up to leave the room when there was an ominous creak from the ceiling, centered from the chandelier closest the doorway. Before I knew it I had risen from my seat, and in six large strides crossed the room, linking my arms around Andrew's chest and pulling, sending him and I both skidding backwards. It was not a moment too soon as the sharp chandelier came crashing down in the exact spot where Andrew had stood not moments before. All eyes had been centered on me when I had risen so quickly, but their focus seemed even more intense after the chandelier had fallen. I pulled myself from the floor and offered my hand to Andrew, who took it gratefully.

“My most sincere thanks Phineas, I do believe you have spared me from a most gruesome death,” Andrew said gratefully.

“You are quite welcome Andrew, but no thanks are necessary, I was simply helping a friend,” I said truthfully.

He smiled at me and we shook hands, receiving a round of applause from the somewhat astonished Lords. We sat down, Andrew apparently losing his need for a bathroom. Lord Hartman approached Andrew and apologized, promising to find what had caused the chandelier to come abruptly crashing down. I myself believed it to be the work of foul play, someone wishing Andrew Zabini dead. however I didn't voice these thoughts. The scribe reentered the room and stared at the fallen chandelier but only momentarily before he remounted his platform and took out a sheet of parchment.

“On this day of 22nd August, 963 the Motion for the Increase of Taxes has been officially approved by the Lords of the Gathering by majority vote. Lords, your duty to the Gathering has henceforth ceased, though you are welcome to stay and discuss other minor matters. Refreshments will be served in the Ball Room at this time before the Gathering will recommence,” the scribe said.

The Lords filed out of the meeting hall back up the sloping passageways to the entrance hall and finally back into the Ball Room. More hors d'oeuvre and Champaign had been set out as well as padded seats. Andrew and I gracefully settled into chairs and began to speak to one another.

“Thank you once again Phineas for pulling me away from the path of the chandelier, if you hadn't I would have surely died,” Andrew said.

I nodded, “Yes, you would have died. I believe that is the point.”

Andrew looked faintly shocked.

“You suspect foul play?” Andrew asked.

“Of course I do. I find that the chandelier, apparently with no sign of damage would fall at the exact time that you were underneath it. It is too improbable to be a mere coincidence,” I replied.

Andrew nodded in acceptance of my logic.

“I suppose you are correct; however I do not have the faintest clue of why someone would wish to dispose of me? I have no debts or obligations I have failed to act upon, I don't hold any major position of power, the only possible reason would be the talent both you and I share,” Andrew said, stating the last part in a low undertone.

I too found it odd. Was it possible that somebody had discovered that Andrew was a wizard and was attempting to remove such an abnormality from the Lords of the Gathering? Or was another wizard in the Gathering making an effort to remove any magical threat to his own power? Regardless, I doubted Andrew wished to stay after the attempt on his life, and I had little interest in the minor politics of Lords, therefore I walked over to Lord Hartman with Andrew beside me.

“Lord Hartman, both Lord Zabini and I are intending to leave before the Gathering resumes, if you could would you please show us the book?” I asked.

“Ah yes, I will only be a minute Lord Criterion, I must retrieve the book from my private study, however you are welcome to join me and we could discuss my findings thus far,” Lord Hartman replied.

“That would be acceptable Lord Hartman, please lead the way,” I said.

Lord Hartman spun about and walked toward the set of red velvet stairs with Andrew and I in his wake. We turned left down a stone hallway and up a passageway until we had reached what I assumed was one of the towers. Blocking the entrance to the room beyond was an old wooden door with a polished silver lock, of which he opened with a surprisingly small key. The door swung open on well oiled hinges and we followed Lord Hartman into his study, sitting in the two chairs in front of his well polished cedar desk.

“Welcome to my study gentlemen, would you like a glass of brandy?” Lord Hartman asked.

I shook my head, “Thank you for your offer Lord Hartman, but I believe I will abstain from more alcohol tonight.”

Andrew answered much the same way, though in not so many words. Lord Hartman just nodded and poured himself a full shot and drank it.

“Now, down to business,” Lord Hartman said, walking over to one of his bookcase's.

From the bookcase he pulled a small, silver covered book with the words Magus Proelium embossed on the cover in gold. He handed the book to me and I slowly felt it, turning it about and making sure not to open the old tomb. I set it on the table in front of me after a careful examination of the book.

“How much money will it take to part you from such an item Lord Hartman?” I said.

Lord Hartman appeared to think for a moment.

“I will give you the book in exchange for three schillings, which is what I had paid for it when I purchased it from a traveling merchant. I have no use for the book, however I hope you do Lord Criterion,” Lord Hartman said.

I reached into my right pocket and extracted three schillings from the bag of assorted money and handed it to Lord Hartman who took it without comment.

“Lord Criterion, Lord Zabini, I will escort you to the entrance hall and from there I trust you can find your way to the door,” Lord Hartman said.

We followed Lord Hartman back down the stairs and through yet more passageways before emerging at the entrance hall where several Lords and Ladies were preparing to depart, not wishing to stay for the remainder of the Gathering. I greeted Lord Valdez once again, and we made plans to speak at the next Gathering, however he had inadvertently brought something to my attention with his statement.

“Yes Lord Criterion, that would be splendid, or perhaps we could arrange a dinner at one of our manors,” Lord Valdez said.

I did not show any change in my facial expression, but inwardly I sighed. I would have to purchase a manor in the Muggle world if I was to continue my façade as a Lord. Even though I was quite rich in this time period, I was but a mere commoner in the Muggle world, and a manor complete with a town of commoners built around it would go a long ways toward verifying my status as a Lord. Besides, a retreat from the Wizarding world in the Muggle world would a valued commodity if politics, especially in the future, became too much to handle.

Andrew and I retrieved our coats from the servant after bidding the Lord Valdez a pleasant night, then called another servant to notify Andrew's coach driver that we were ready to depart. The coach came trundling up the driveway to the door not five minutes after it was called for and we both entered the coach, sitting on the comfortable, red velvet seats. We sat in silence for a while before Andrew spoke to me.

“Phineas, would you care to spend the weekend at my home? It would be the very least I could do for you after you pulled me out of the way of the falling chandelier,” Andrew said.

I thought for a moment and nodded, smiling at him. It appeared besides an ally, I had also gained a friend in Andrew Zabini. A weekend in a medieval muggle home would do wonders for my somewhat limited knowledge of the Middle Ages, and while I was at it I could try to find any useful magical books in his library or simply ask if he had any useful magical tombs. For some reason, I had a feeling that I would find some extremely useful information at the Zabini Manor, and so far my intuition has never let me down.

“Yes Andrew, I would love to. Tell me, do you have any family?”

As the carriage trundled along the battered, dusty roads we discussed various topics such as his lack of family, my family, and more well into the night and early morning.

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A/N: Yes, it is a new chapter. Your eyes do not deceive you. I also will not apologize for a late chapter, as had I not spent my time on this I highly doubt it would have come out nearly as good as it would have. To be truthful, I didn't write most of the chapter until about three weeks ago when I wrote bits and pieces but I started seriously writing at the beginning of the last weekend, when I had a spark of inspiration which grew into the chapter you see now. School, a two week trip to Europe (which helped my ability to write about England and London in particular to increase in leaps and bounds) and the simple fact I didn't have the inspiration all contributed to this, though standardized testing also was a blow against my creative mind. In the future I will be attempting to release a chapter every one to two weeks and get my writing on a better schedule.

Now, before you ask or even suggest, this will not be a Harry/Blaise (f) or Harry/Any other Zabini. I simply found Andrew Zabini an interesting character and the fact that he is a muggle-born is all the more controversial, however I will let you draw your own conclusions. I also realize the error I made in the first chapter when he paid with a pence piece. I now have the currency of this time correct, and soon I will make it apparent just why Phoenix's Den is so modern, now without further adieu, on to the review responses!

Or not. I decided it would be a perfect time to notify all of you about a HP forum I'm currently an administrator at. It isn't very big yet, but it has much potential and it needs actual posting users to help get it off the ground. You can find the forum at darklordpotter DOT net.

Khadon: Yes, the founders begin to make their way upon the stage, but this will not be a Founder based story. They will be involved in the story, and some may even play major roles in the plot, but it will not be based around them.

Uten: Yes, I agree. I do tend to get somewhat annoyed when people create a Dementor killing spell or find one in the pages on a book; I prefer the actual Patronus to any of them. The fallout of his actions will become more apparent in the next chapter when he returns to Phoenix's Den. I partially addressed the future issue in the beginning of the chapter, but it will all be revealed by the course of time.

Bobboky: I intend to use his money wisely as to make sure he has a sizeable sum in the future to use to fund the war or buy anything his heart desires while making sure it is not overkill.

Gaul1: I have no idea where you got the idea of teacher/student. They are the same age, and if by chance they were to seek companionship with one another it would be a normal relationship, not some screwed up Snape/Hermione type thing.

Demonic Psycho: Thou shall see. Thou shall see.

fanficfreak35: I do not bend to the whims of anyone. If I wish to take three weeks, I will take three weeks. Telling me to 'hurry up' however, is a prime way to invoke my ire.

Nogoalielikeme: You'll just have to see when the time comes eh?

Thefirstphoenix: Its hard not to reply truthfully to faithful reviewers such as yourself, but I fear I must invoke the fifth. The warding is simply standard warding, no specialized blood warding. It is possible that he could build a passageway to Hogwarts when it was built, but it is highly likely that the passageway would be miles and miles long, thus removing the worth of such a passage.

Dumbledore: Yes it would be entirely cliché and I don't like too many clichés. I can assure you now that Harry will NOT be Godric or Salazar, though Helga sounds promising. The old magic issue will be covered in future chapters.

B-A-HPlova22: For future magical endeavors (including returning home) I envisioned that he would need some upgrades to handle the strain, not only that but to become Voldemort's equal he needs more knowledge. Knowledge is power, and even with extra power Harry is NOT as powerful as Voldemort. He needs knowledge to survive. Also I appreciate your review. Tell me what you didn't like instead of showering me with praise is constructive criticism and all great authors need it.

CANADIAN-COOLIO: Indeed and they will be included. Phoenix's Den is an isolated place away from the ravages of the Middle Ages. In future chapters more of this type will play roles.

Maxennce: You'll have to find out in future chapters won't you? I will assure you that Harry will play a role in Hogwart's history, though perhaps not the founding.

Thank you all for reviewing, and waiting patiently for the next chapter.

-Lord Ravenclaw