Year 0 Part 6

... ...

I watched quietly from my perch on a rooftop high above the muggle street below. Down there a group of muggle children were playing, boys and girls playing some game that must’ve either never existed in the world I’d come from, or faded from the culture as parents stopped allowing their children to play on the streets outside their home.

Beside me was Kadic, and to avoid questions, both of us were under disillusionment charms, though if discovered by another wizard, then they’d have wondered what in Merlin’s name we were doing here. Of course, those wizards didn’t know what I knew, and so wouldn’t be paying particular attention to a young girl with bright red hair.

“Is the MacLeod sure this one is important?”

“Yes, Kadic, I’m sure,” I replied as down below, Lily Evans ran around with her friends.

After pulling the town where she and Severus Snape were born to mind, I’d had Kadic borrow a phone book from a muggle home in the town. Evans was a fairly common family name, and the town of around eighty thousand was located close to the Welsh border and contained over a hundred listed families with that name. After travelling with Kadic each day for a few weeks to observe those families, I’d discovered the only one with a girl around my age with red hair and vibrant green eyes. Further observation, including spells to enhance sounds from far away and act as binoculars, confirmed the name and look, meaning I’d located one of the more prominent figures from this era of the timeline.

Or at least she, along with Snape and the Marauders, had been important in the other timeline. In this timeline, I couldn’t be sure of that. However, if she and Snape attended Hogwarts, then they had excellent potential and not attempting to exploit that for my benefit was foolish at best, to downright stupid at worst.

“You know your instructions?” I asked my elf as I pulled back from watching the girl play with her friends, glad that this little project had finished its first stage.

“Kadic knows the MacLeod’s orders, though Kadic is still uncertain over why the MacLeod is interested in the muggle.”

“Because she’s a muggleborn, not a muggle,” I replied with a chuckle. “One that, I believe, will grow into a very powerful and important witch. Earning the friendship of her and the wizard that lives nearby, if both attend Hogwarts, will be helpful for my plans.”

Severus had been easier to locate as Snape was an unusual name and with only a handful in Cokeworth, and working from the understanding that they’d lived in Spinner’s End, one of the more destitute areas of the city, it hadn’t taken long to locate him. The issue had been his mother, Eileen Prince. While an outcast from the Ancient House of Prince, and choosing to live in a muggle city, she was still a pureblood witch from an old and powerful family. Kadic had detected several wards around the house where she and Severus lived, meaning directly approaching the location hadn’t been possible. That had meant arriving before dawn to watch the house for Severus going to school, which was the same one that Lily attended.

I’d felt a little stupid for not considering the pair might attend primary school together, though given they’d known each other before attending Hogwarts in the other timeline, it did make sense. That would’ve saved me some effort for locating Lily, but given I was enjoying practising spells that I might not otherwise get the chance to use, I wasn’t complaining too much. As a bonus, it got me out of Dunscaith, and away from the various books I was reading for hints as to the language used within the tome. It’d been over a month and while I was all but sure of the intentions of the array the book had provided, I was getting almost nowhere in determining what language was used.

I shifted around, my legs growing stiff from sitting on the roof, while making sure to not slip. I knew Kadic would stop me from falling, but I’d rather not have the tiles on the roof loosen and fall, drawing attention from any muggles below. Even if they’d never be able to see me, the less anyone knew of where I was and what I was doing the better. As a child of a similar age to Lily and Severus, it was odd as fuck that I was watching muggle kids play. If anyone knew I had memories of being an adult, then this would verge on downright fucking wrong. Thankfully outside of Kadic, and Aien, if she had to monitor these two kids for their Hogwarts letters, no one would ever know of my actions. Or so I hoped.

While I’d told Kadic that Lily and Severus were important, I couldn’t be sure of that, but I was going to assume they were. Just as the various members of the Marauders, and other members of Dumbledore’s and Voldemort’s circles. I’d already spent years getting to know the various Blacks, though my focus had been on Sirius and Regulus. Those two, along with Narcissa, were in my age group – give or take a few years – and held the keys to House Black once Arcturus and Orion passed away.

The problem I was having was that, while he might not be showing it, Sirius was drifting away. Because I’d taken on what I’d been taught during Arcturus’ lessons, it meant I was used as an example by Walburga about how Sirius should act. While, when we were away from his mother, I made clear I only acted the way I did around adults because as Chief MacLeod I was expected to, it was clear I was losing ground. Even introducing Sirius to Bradley one day when I’d had both of them visit Dunscaith Castle wasn’t helping me restore the slowly growing distance between us.

Bradley understood and accepted the way nobles and those of certain social classes behaved, whereas Sirius was rebelling against everything to do with his heritage because of fucking Walburga. So much so that, so far this year, when he had the choice, Sirius had spent more time around James Potter than his family. While it made sense for the pair to spend time together, given they were going to be future Lords of their houses and would be in the same year at Hogwarts, it irked me that I seemingly wasn’t able to stop the division between Sirius and his family.

I’d only dealt with James Potter in passing, but from the very beginning, he seemed to dislike me. James liked being the centre of attention, and the fact he was the first-born son of the heir to the Ancient House of Potter whereas I was Chief MacLeod seemed to annoy him. I didn’t rub my title in his face, but whenever I was around his parents and grandparents, they’d ask my opinion on matters James knew nothing about. The only thing that seemed to refocus his parents’ attention was when he and Sirius – and a handful of other wizards – flew around dangerously enough that it drew the focus of his mother.

It was also clear that James held a dislike for me because of the perceived loyalties of Clan MacLeod. Most, though not all, of my family – at least those born of the Chief or Heir – had ended up in Slytherin. The Potters were very much a Gryffindor house, and James seemed to think that meant we couldn’t be sociable. Even words from his grandmother, Dorea – who was born into House Black – did little to dismiss James’ apparent loathing of Slytherin even before he attended Hogwarts. Because of that, and other personal traits I’d observed in the brat, I felt that it was because of him that the animosity between him and Severus became what it did in the other timeline.

Thankfully, while it seemed I was losing influence over Sirius, Regulus was far easier to ingratiate myself with. The younger brother lived forever in Sirius’ shadow – along with that of his cousins – and unlike the future Marauder, Regulus could not stand up to his mother. Because I was often at Le Domaine Noir, over the last year or so I’d started tutoring Regulus whenever Sirius wasn’t interested in studying, which was most of the time. Regulus, like Sirius, had an old family wand that he could practise on, and while he’d yet to show strength in any particular branch of magic, gaining his loyalty would remove it from Voldemort. Yes, that could mean that the Horcrux that he stole before his death, Slytherin’s Locket, might end up elsewhere, but that was a matter for further down the road. Plus, if Sirius was removed properly from the Black family tree, then that would place Regulus in a position to inherit the position of Lord Black. Having his friendship would grant me influence through one of the most powerful magical families in the British Isles.

As I had interactions with James and Sirius, and with time running down until I attended Hogwarts, I’d sought out the last two members of the Marauders. The foursome were, even ignoring the biased perspective the information came from, powerful wizards who’d stood against Voldemort, or at least had been in the other timeline. Gaining the support of some, if not all of the group would be greatly beneficial as I moved forward in this world. Sadly, while I’d located Remus and Peter, meeting the pair hadn’t occurred.

Remus should, if I had the timeline correct, have been bitten by Fenrir Greyback about five years ago. His father, Lyall Lupin, who was a minor member of the Established House Lupin, was reasonably well-known in Wizarding Britain, having helped the Ministry during the Wizarding World War. However, he had withdrawn from the magical world around the time Remus would’ve been bitten.

Peter Pettigrew was easier to find, as his house was a Vassal of the Ancient House of Bones. However, any meeting with the boy or his father was hard to arrange. As they were vassals of House Bones any attempt at meeting them, at least in an official capacity, required the approval of Lord Rickard Bones. Since I had no logical reason to meet the Pettigrews, as they’d never interacted with Clan MacLeod, asking for such a meeting could easily cause issues between myself and House Bones.

I had little interaction there either, having only met Lord Rickard at a few official functions that I’d had to attend, which meant I’d have to wait until Peter was at Hogwarts to see what, if anything, I could do about him. While there was no guarantee he or Remus would attend Hogwarts in this timeline, I was working with what knowledge I held to plan for the future.

That did, in a small way, bring my attention to House Bones. Far into the future of another timeline, Amelia Bones had become head of the DMLE. Here, she was the youngest of four children of Lord Rickard. Amelia was in Bellatrix’s year – that being Fifth Year from next term – and like many of her family a Hufflepuff. Her older siblings had all graduated from Hogwarts, meaning I’d struggle to have much interaction with House Bones, or at least the main line that controlled the Lordship. There was a good chance that, like with many other Houses and Clans, I’d interact with cousins and children of cadet branches instead of children of Chiefs, Lords, and Heirs.

That was true of Frank Longbottom. The potential father of Neville was a few years older than me, being in the same year as Andromeda, while his younger brother was going to start Hogwarts the same year as the Marauders, and his sisters a few years after that. I’d met the boys a few times at events, as I had with many other nobles and their families, but it was unlikely I’d have much interaction with the Longbottom’s until I took up my seat in the Wizengamot. Or at least with the main branch as Franks’ cousin, Margaret would be starting alongside me this year. That was provided she received her letter, as I’d not spoken to her since around March. The same was true of the other children of Houses and Clans, both those on and off the Scared Seventy-Seven, as I’d pulled back heavily from interactions with them to focus on other matters.

Merlin, the only reason I had spent as much time around Margaret as I had, and many of the daughters of other Clans and Houses, was because their parents, Chiefs, and Lords were likely angling to gain my attention for marriage. While that was something I’d known of for a long while, and sadly just accepted as something I couldn’t avoid until I was older, along with having to ensure that any food I was given was checked for love potions – something that I felt should be regulated because of the danger they posed – I’d discovered something in my research on the language of the tome that had concerned me.

Apparently, back before the Wizengamot was formed, and Scotland and Ireland wizarding communities had their separate governing structures, it had been accepted for a Chief to have multiple wives. The practice had fallen out of favour not long after the founding of the Wizengamot, and then all but disappeared after the Statute came into effect. Before then, many Chiefs had taken muggleborn witches as secondary wives, though some had also taken half- and pureblood witches who were far from the line of succession of their Clan or House to foster relationships between the Clans.

I’d been upset to discover that was possible, as I firmly believed that marriage was a commitment to each other and no one else, and complained about it to my ancestors. While my grandmother and great-grandmother hadn’t liked the concept, they had agreed with their spouses that, in theory, it was a way for me to restore the Clan’s numbers in a generation or two. The problem was, and one of the reasons it had gradually faded from happening, was that there were often issues between the wives and their children over which child should be Chief. While a duel to determine control of a Clan was acceptable and had, at least back then, been a semi-regular occurrence, the continual fighting between branches of the Clan risked weakening a Clan greatly, leaving them exposed to attacks from rival Clan.

Dorea had also mentioned that while most of Wizarding Britain might look down on a witch becoming a secondary wife, the position held greater influence and power than marrying some minor wizard of a spare branch of most other Clans and Houses. She’d also spoken how, outside of mainland Europe and the Isles, multiple marriages were common, though the vast majority were multiple wives to a powerful wizard than the other way around. My grandfather had mentioned that the practice was why many in Wizarding Britain looked down on the Norse League even though the League had a larger number of magicals, and carried more influence than Britain or the ICW.

That might be why so many daughters of second sons and cadet branches of other Clans and Houses were showing interest in being my friend. They, or more likely their parents, might see it as a way to elevate their status for the cost of a daughter with otherwise limited prospects. I was trying to ignore that issue, and courtship in general, for as long as I could, but I suspected things would grow worse once I was at Hogwarts. And not just with witches in my year, as I’d even have Abraxas Malfoy introduce me to his nieces, one of whom should be starting Hogwarts with me this year.

I had little interest in getting to know Vesta Malfoy but did use the meetings with the Malfoy children to spend more time getting a read on Lucius. Since he was already a student at Hogwarts, that meant I’d only met him this summer at a few functions that Arcturus had held. Until this summer I’d avoided those, but seeing as I was heading to Hogwarts, I felt I should attend, and thus through the Blacks met Lucius.

On the surface, he seemed cordial toward me, but I felt like with many pureblood heirs, and sons of heirs, he carried some dislike of me. As if they could only focus on me becoming the MacLeod of MacLeod at an early age and not the reason why that was the case. Of course, with Lucius, it could also be that he felt I was beneath him, as he carried himself with an air of someone who felt everyone, bar his parents, was beneath him.

While nothing had been confirmed, I’d heard enough suggestions that Arcturus and Abraxas were working on having a daughter of House Black betrothed to Lucius as soon as both were of age. The obvious choice would be Narcissa, as she was in the same year as Lucius, however, given the fact that it was Narcissa who seemed the most intent on spending time near me of any daughter of House Black, I wasn’t sure about that. Regardless, it was something I’d have to keep my eye on as whoever was betrothed to Lucius, I’d gain some connection to the Ancient House of Malfoy because of my friendship with House Black.

Meeting all of those figures had been relatively easy to at least locate, if not meet. Lily Evans and Severus Snape were harder as I’d meant exploring the muggle world. This place was so different from the world I’d once known, which did make sense as not only had one part of me come from another world without magic, but it had been around three-quarters of a century later. Still, it was jarring to see things such as post boxes and public phone booths all over the place, though hopefully, this might be one of the few times I had to enter the Muggle world.

I wasn’t anti-muggle per se, it was just that I held resentment for what had happened in my former life, and disliked how primitive this world was. Yes, many of the customs and methods of doing things in Wizarding Britain were odd, using appearances and styles that, to a muggle, would seem centuries out of date. However, because of magic, they could achieve so much more than a muggle ever could.

“Kadic will obey.”

I blinked, snapping my thoughts back to where I was, memories of watching Lily play down below with her friends for the last few minutes merging with those where I’d gone through recent events and actions. The ability to have two streams of thought at the same time was something I’d picked up from my Occlumency training. It was an odd ability, but one that had its uses, such as when something caught my thoughts, but I wanted to remain aware of what was going on around me. That said, when the simultaneous streams of memories merged it was always a little jarring.

“Good. If I’m right, the pair should get their letters in January, but I can’t be certain of that. Which is why you and Aien have to monitor the pair each morning from September.” According to my knowledge, the pair had birthdays in January, like I did. However, I was leaving nothing to chance in arranging the best opportunity to meet one or both before they boarded the train at the end of next summer.

Kadic nodded and then clicked his fingers. “Kadic will know when owls come.” I nodded, accepting that he’d done something to monitor the pair without alerting others – such as Severus’ mother – that they were being watched. Elf magic was different from wizard magic – be that with or without a wand – and it created loopholes in the way the Wizarding World, or at the very least, Wizarding Britain could be exploited. The wards around Dunscaith Castle had specific layers to prevent elves not linked to me from entering without permission, and to weaken any that visited to avoid them being a danger. The same was true of the wards around Le Domaine Noir, but according to how Kadic spoke of other places he’d visited when my father had been The MacLeod, most of those places didn’t have restrictions on what elves could do. That was something I’d have to investigate as if it were even semi-common that wards didn’t monitor and weaken outside elves, then potential avenues to exploit would be available to me in future.

“Good,” I said, shuffling back, up the roof. “Let’s get out of here,” I added, holding out my hand.

In theory, I could attempt to apparate. I knew the theory and understood, or so I felt, the principles involved. However, given the threat a failed or unstable apparition could cause, I was unwilling to attempt to apparate by myself. That placed it alongside several more advanced spells, charms, and jinxes – such as the Unforgivables – that I knew of but had not attempted to cast or use.

The only downside was that side-along apparating, be that with Kadic, Arcturus, one of my aunts, or the handful of other people I’d done so with, was discombobulating. Still, even for how much I struggled to contain whatever was in my stomach after apparating with another, it was safer than losing a limb.

As Kadic placed his hand on mine, I took one last look at Lily Evans. There was always the chance that she, and any of those I knew from her year – bar Sirius and James – wouldn’t end up at Hogwarts. This universe wasn’t one based on the one my knowledge came from. However, until it was confirmed that she, Severus, Remus, and Peter weren’t powerful pieces in the war to come, I’d keep my eyes on them, seeking ways to ensure their loyalty to whichever path I chose. It was perhaps a rather blunt approach to life, as I was talking about children around my age, but if I wanted to survive what was to come, and affect the changes I planned for further along the timeline, then I needed to treat everyone and thing as a possible resource until it became an enemy.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

A flick of my wrist sent a bolt of magic flying from the tip of my wand. In the distance, the bolt, crackling with intent, surged toward Xenocrates. As usual, Xeno leapt away from the bolt before it reached him, the tip of my wand tracking his movement and as he gracefully finished his leap, I sent another bolt, keeping him on the move.

I wasn’t actively trying to hit him, nor was the intent behind the bolts one to harm. What I was doing was testing out a basic attack spell – one that was something that First Years were taught in this universe – that relied entirely on intent while getting more comfortable with my Hogwarts wand. The bolt, in theory, could do considerable damage if it struck someone not prepared or had enough power pushed into it, and with intent if the caster to cause damage, but generally, the bolt was more akin to a stinging hex.

What I’d learnt from my ancestors though, and it wasn’t mentioned in the textbooks, nor taught to me by my tutors, was that it was possible to embus the simple bolt with other forms of magic. For houses whose Family Magic tended toward more outwardly displayed abilities, then it was possible to grant some of that magic into the bolt. In theory, Fleshcarving couldn’t be channelled into the bolt, however, I wondered if there might be a way to design a runic array that empowered all spells cast, granting them increased power. I’d not mentioned that with my ancestors, mainly as I still had to determine the setup of the array the tome had provided, but it was something I’d designated as a low-priority research project.

While Fleshcarving couldn’t be applied easily to enhancing the bolt, my ancestors – specifically my grandmother – had suggested that I might have some affinity toward more destructive forms of magic. That was something Clan O’Leary – my grandmother’s birth Clan – was known for. She’d said it was unlikely I’d have the inclination her birth Clan did, as family magic generally flowed through the paternal line, but it wasn’t impossible that I could grant a small sliver of extra power to my bolts. That had me wondering if perhaps I could apply Eradicator’s Grasp to the bolt, at least once it was unlocked. Without any way to determine that, I had to trust my instincts and I didn’t feel I’d yet reached a point of unlocking that Trait. Nor had I had much luck with Bloody Touch, however, I felt my affinities toward fire and lightning were beginning to show; the latter helped by my bond with Xeno.

Xeno, as always, was moving before the next bolt reached him even as my arm tracked him, readying another attack. I’d never hit him, nor did I want to, though I had come close. Instead of being angry about it, Xeno seemed to take it as a challenge, and since the one time a bolt had caught his tail, he made sure nothing touched him. That said, he always waited as long as possible before moving as if taunting me for my inability to strike him.

The raiju seemed to enjoy this training, though I felt he considered it a game, as it helped me with my casting speed, kept him on his toes, and acted, in an odd way, as a way to further strengthen the bond we shared. At times I could sense when he was going to move just before he did, and I suspected he could do the same regarding my casting.

While this was fun, it wasn’t the only combined practice/bonding game we played. On other days I’d levitate an object around the training area – which was where we were currently -for him to chase. That helped me with finer control over the Levitation charm, and other spells that could be used to do something similar while helping Xeno work on his tracking and hunting. While I’d yet to see him fully draw upon the magic raiju were known for, when we played the chasing game, sparks were beginning to dance around his fur, and his movements were accelerating; sometimes to the point where I struggled to separate the feline from the lightning. Actual movement by shifting into a bolt of electricity didn’t generally occur in raiju until they were three or four years old, but I and others felt that due to him being my familiar, and thus able to draw magic through me, he may show such an ability sooner.

What had amused me about the spell I was using today, though I missed Xenocrates again as he dismissively rolled away from one bolt, and then leapt over the next, was that it bore a striking similarity to the basic spell from the Hogwarts Legacy. I’d played that game, and other games and media based on the universe I now found myself in when I’d been a teenager, but by the time the part of me that had come from a non-magical world had died, I’d forgotten about it entirely. Even with Emotionless Recall activating once here, I’d not thought about it over the first few years, not until I’d learnt the spell I was using today.

After spending a few days cursing myself for not drawing on those memories – or even considering taking an affinity or trait for Ancient Magic when I’d shaped this new life – I’d dove into the history of the games, seeing what, if any, of that story was true here. While many of the professors at Hogwarts during the time Phineas Nigellas Black and Matilda Weasley were Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress respectively, weren’t the same – which made sense since we were talking about nineteenth-century Britain not, as when the game came out, early twenty-first century, the general lore was in the history books.

There had been a short battle – it wasn’t termed a rebellion – by a faction of goblins led by Ranrok, which had resulted in an attack on Hogwarts. The exact details of why he’d attacked the school weren’t in any of the history books I’d read, but because I could remember the game clearly, I knew the truth. Perhaps better than any bar the handful of Ministry officials with the position to potentially browse the restricted files on the incident. Still, learning that Ranrok had existed and that the attack on Hogwarts had taken place, opened up several new ideas for what I could discover at Hogwarts.

As I considered these thoughts once more, my arm continued to move, sending out bolts for Xeno to avoid. On one occasion, the bolt struck with enough force to damage whatever it hit. Thankfully, the magic enchanted into the room meant that any damage was quickly undone. Bar a few spells, which I took to mean ones like Fiendfyre and others with similar damage potential, my ancestors had assured me the room would recover. I was warned not to learn spells beyond my abilities currently, but once I had the power and ability to cast more aggressive spells, Kadic would provide me with access to a chamber designed for casting such chaos.

Returning my thoughts, or at least part of them, toward Hogwarts, and other sources of information about the school/castle, I felt the Hogwarts I’d seen in Hogwarts Legacy would be a closer representation than the one I’d seen in the movies. Not only would it need to be bigger – at least on the inside – due to the increased student numbers in this timeline, but if it was closer in setup to Legacy, then there’d be more than just the Room of Requirement and the Chamber of Secrets for me to consider as a place to create a secluded location for research and practising.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The Room of Requirement was the most obvious location to pick, as it had the potential to be multifunctional, and it would contain the first of Voldemort’s’ Horcruxes in the Ravenclaw Diadem. The problem was, with the sheer number of students in the school, the odds that it wasn’t a semi-open secret were slimmer than I’d like. Plus, with only one known entrance, it meant it was easier for others to discover where I was going.

The Chamber of Secrets, while having far more entrances, and then only allowing those like me who could use Parseltongue to enter, was far more dangerous. Even if the basilisk was dormant, getting anywhere near that any time in my first few years was just asking for trouble. Or more accurately, trouble that there was a good to excellent chance I’d not survive. The idea that the crow of a rooster was enough to defeat such a mighty beast had always struck me as odd, and the books I’d read that mentioned this claim were sceptical of its efficiency.

Because of that, I’d pulled apart every memory of Legacy I had, and the obvious choices from that source were the Undercroft and Hall of Herodiana – or one of her puzzle rooms if they existed. While both had the same issue as the RoR, there were other options to consider. The Undercroft, with the entrance being in a less obvious place, certainly held more interest. However, another idea for allowing me to have a secluded location in the castle, in theory anyway, had come to mind.

The vanishing cabinets that Draco had used were certainly options. The damaged one should, in theory, be in Borgin and Burkes, provided that shop existed. If it did, and I planned to at least determine if the store existed before heading to Hogwarts, then grabbing the other one in Hogwarts. Yes, one of the cabinets would need repairing, but it was a way to allow me to create a private location for my studies, and fix another issue of how to come and go from Hogwarts without relying on Kadic. While Dumbledore couldn’t stop me from using Kadic to leave the castle, due to my position as Chief MacLeod, I’d learnt, in a letter he’d sent a few days ago, that he expected me to at least inform him when I left the premises.

The urge to destroy the letter had taken some effort to resist, as I felt Dumbledore was stepping on my feet. However, after calming myself and speaking to my ancestors, I learnt that the Headmaster was required to be informed when a student left the grounds to go somewhere beyond Hogsmeade – which was a town in this universe – or one of the nearby magical villages. While the reasons given by my ancestors made sense, as I was under the Headmaster’s supervision while at Hogwarts, I disliked the intrusion. However, Dumbledore had only insisted that I was to contact him if I left via apparition – be that with Kadic, others, or once I learnt the ability myself – or Floo. There was no mention of other methods. Either he didn’t know of any, which I felt was unlikely, or he wasn’t going to mention them in case it made me consider alternate approaches. Which I had.

The stream of thought regarding Hogwarts, and plans for getting out and private locations within the caste, ended when, as Xeno dodged a flurry of bolts I sent at him, a faint pop sounded. At the same time, as the memories of training with Xeno merged with those about Hogwarts and were filed away in my memories, I turned to see Kadic had appeared.

“Already?” I asked, knowing why he was here, and having lost track of time.

“Yes. The MacLeod’s aunt had arrived. She awaits The MacLeod in the Main Study.”

I sighed, slightly annoyed at myself for losing track of time. Aunt Moire was here for another lesson on Occlumency. I’d passed the official grading to be regarded as a Level 3 Occlumens – which was where the ability to have simultaneous thought streams was taught – a while ago, but Moire wanted me to have the basics, if not more, of Level 4 before I headed off to Hogwarts. Given that was only a little more than a month away, it meant our lessons had increased to one a day.

While I didn’t mind the training, I disliked having to protect my thoughts; or more accurately, fail to do so. Moire was a far higher level Legilimens than I was an Occlumens, and with her training working as an Investigator for the Aurors, she never had any issue breaking my defences. The lectures that came after, which went over everything I’d done, or not, in our session, were far from enjoyable. Getting picked apart in such intricate detail was never great for my confidence. However, it did, as much as I might not always like it, drive me to become better.

“Fine.” I slid my wand back into its holster. “You coming?” I asked as I looked at Xeno even as I patted the holster for my Lordly wand. While I’d spent most of the year using my Hogwarts wand, I felt as if part of me was missing when I was without my Lordly wand.

Xeno tilted his head, looking at me as if I’d suddenly grown a dozen arms, and then after a moment, turned and sauntered away. “Traitor,” I called out without any venom. Since our bond was strong enough that he could go most of the day without being around me, he now chose to avoid me whenever I had lessons. While that was a relief as it meant he’d be fine at Hogwarts while I had classes, I disliked him not being present. I found it comforting and relaxing to have him resting nearby, if not, as he preferred, on my lap.

I walked toward the door, choosing the slow method of reaching the study over asking Kadic to apparate me around the castle. While I didn’t dislike the sessions with my aunt, the sooner I was on my way to Hogwarts the better.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

“This… it isn’t what I expected,” I remarked as I walked into the Ritual Chamber of Dunscaith Castle. The Chamber was located on one of the basement levels, not far from the training rooms I visited daily, but until today – and after saying an incantation my grandfather had just taught me while placing my hand on the torc, I’d never even known the room was there. I knew I shouldn’t keep being so easily impressed by magic, but when rooms could appear from thin air, and be far larger than they had any right to be, I always felt a little giddy at getting to experience all this. Thankfully, after years of training, I knew how to keep most, if not all, of that enjoyment hidden if I so wanted.

Still, discovering another new room, even one I’d expected existed beforehand, in my home was amazing, and had me once more asking how much more was there to the castle, and just what secrets I’d never considered might exist elsewhere in the magical world. Most of that focus was aimed at Hogwarts, which given I was less than a month away from boarding the train, wasn’t unexpected, but there were still mysteries closer to home that held my interest.

The most obvious one there was whatever lay in the depths of the forest that surrounded Dunscaith. It was dangerous, that was clear from the way my ancestors made clear I shouldn’t venture too deeply into the forest, and the torc warning of danger whenever I entered the woods. So far, I’d not seen the source of that great danger, but I had spotted a group of Redcaps.

Those little creatures, which were called Powries by my ancestors, were common around abandoned castles, dungeons, and larger caves. The group I’d seen might have been permitted to stay in the forest to act as a deterrent, but frankly, I felt they were a problem. Redcaps had few, if any, redeeming features, bar perhaps, the use of certain parts of them in some more unusual and exotic potions. I didn’t know any of the potions personally, but that was what was mentioned about them in the various books I’d read after the encounter.

The issue was that, while I felt I could handle a small number of them, it was unlikely the group of four I’d seen were the only Redcaps in the forest. If I failed to take that group out, or when hunting them encountered a far larger party, I’d be in trouble. Yes, Kadic would come to my aid, but I would be embarrassed to need to be rescued because those creatures had overwhelmed me. Also, Redcaps had some general resistance to magic, meaning many of the basic spells I knew might not work well against them.

While all that meant I was ignoring the group of them for now, I planned to remove them, and the rest of their gathering – the name for a Redcap nest – next summer, once I had unlocked more of my magic and had a year of formal education under my belt. In the meantime, I’d left an order for Kadic and Aien to monitor the creatures, and if any ventured too close to the castle, to drive them back, and see if they could determine the Redcap’s base. At least without risking themselves as I wasn’t willing to sacrifice one of my elves to clear the creatures. Especially not Kadic who was the only link to my family from before the Summer Solstice Massacre.

“And what were you expecting?” My grandfather asked, snapping my focus back to the Ritual Chamber. “Something more akin to a dungeon that one would find in a castle?”

I turned, looking back at him as he and my grandfather floated in their Greater Portraits. Kadic was just behind them, keeping them afloat as I led us into the Ritual Chamber.

“No. Something older, perhaps similar. Like Stonehenge,” I replied as I returned my attention to the Chamber.

It was, amusingly, a stone wall-lined room, one circular in nature. Those walls were engraved with glowing shifting runes, and from what I could understand of the arrays, they were safety measures, designed to protect the room and its occupants. That didn’t fill me with confidence that Fleshcarving was safe, but it did make sense as the more powerful an array was, the greater the risk that if it were created even fractionally incorrectly, the more devastation the blowback could be. In the case of Fleshcarving, that would, gruesomely, mean blood and guts lining the walls.

There were a few ornate tables around the walls, though most were bare, and in the centre of the room, dominating proceedings, was a, by comparison, simple wooden table. On the floor around that table was a circular inscribing of runes. Like those on the walls, the circle was designed to contain whatever happened inside while also enhancing any magic cast.

“While Stonehenge has a purpose, it isn’t for fleshcarving,” my great-grandfather replied as I moved toward the central table. “The shape of this room, the materials used in its construction, the arrays carved into the walls, tables, and floor, and the very instruments needed for Fleshcarving, were designed to extremely specific standards. A standard that outside of the Wizengamot, the foundations of Hogwarts, and a handful of other locations, I’ve rarely seen in the Isles.”

I reached the central table as he finished, my hand moving out to brush against the dark stained wood. It was warmer than one might expect of a table in an underground room, but that would be the work of the runes carved into it. Here, unlike the rest of the room, the runes were mainly those of the tome, suggesting that the table had been created at the same time as the tome. Perhaps even by the same person. The room would’ve been added later, more standard runic languages used in the arrays that encompassed it.

The wood the table was made from was another oddity. It appeared at first glance to be hazel, but the colours of the wood were too bright and intense to be from that tree. The majority was a brilliant, though not overpowering, burnt orange while the knots where branches had once extended outward from the tree were a darker, almost the colour of blood, red.

“What tree was this made from?” I asked as I turned to face my ancestors. I’d not studied wood in much detail, but there was something about the table that suggested it might even be difficult for the Ollivanders to indemnify the source material for this table.

“As with the tome, the tree used for the table is unknown. The knowledge lost to the ravages of time.” I bit back a sigh of annoyance at my grandfather’s response. “Yes, we feel the same as you. However, there is little we can do about it. The knowledge of the exact source of where our Clan’s unique magic comes from was lost in the generations between the Clan’s founding, and the creation of the first Dealbhan Nas Motha.”

I turned back to the table and bit my tongue, not wanting to curse at another mystery of my Clan to add to the small, but important list I held in my mind. As with learning the truth of the tome, it would be a mystery I didn’t think I’d learn the answers to for a long time, if ever.

In theory, I could use the Resurrection Stone to summon the Clan’s founder – the first Dòmhnall MacLeod – back to the land of the living and question him. However, there were several issues with that idea, the greatest of which was that, was the location of the Stone.

In theory, it should be in a Gaunt family ring, and by now passed into the possession of Tom Riddle. The soon-to-become Lord Voldemort would use that ring as a Horcrux, and thus keep it well hidden and protected in the home where his branch of House Guant had lived. The issue was that, when researching Voldemort’s family, I’d discovered that the Ancient House of Guant wasn’t extinct. The branch Voldemort came from had been ostracised for some time, and was now dead as Voldemort didn’t carry the family name. However, the main branch of the family was still around, and in theory, the ring might never have passed to Voldemort’s grandfather and uncle.

The Ancient House of Gaunt was regarded as the weakest and poorest of the Ancient families in the Isles. Given the status of my Clan, which consisted of only three underage members in the main branch and, according to Ranlor were far lower than expected of an Ancient family, we were still considered more powerful and influential than House Gaunt was an indicator of how low they’d fallen.

While all that made the exact location of the Resurrection Stone an issue, the other problem was that the founder of Clan MacLeod might not know the language the tome was written in. The more I dove into the Clan’s history, and other old magical histories for Scotland and Ireland, the more I’d grown to suspect that the language wasn’t one designed by Humans. Something about the runic language felt different, and far more powerful, than any other runic language I’d encountered. If that was the case, and the legends about the First Dòmhnall MacLeod having been married to, of the child or, a Fae princess, then the odds on him knowing anything of use regarding the tome’s language were limited at best. All of that, however, was a matter for another day; one far into the future. Turning again, I looked back at my ancestors as they waited – their paintings floating in the air in front of a silent Kadic – for my next question.

My grandmother and great-grandmother weren’t present as, while they were aware of the Clan’s magic, they weren’t of the blood. In theory, that shouldn’t have stopped either of my male ancestors or those that came before them, from granting flesh-carved runes to their wives, however, it wasn’t something either had done. I’d wondered if some taboo or rule was preventing them from granting the same benefits they had to their spouses but hadn’t asked either about it. That was a topic for far into the future once I was either betrothed or married.

“Why exactly am I being allowed into this room today?” I asked. That question had been in my thoughts ever since learning they would be revealing the Ritual Chamber to me. “I haven’t deciphered the core language used in the array.”

“No, but you have deduced its intentions,” my grandfather replied with a knowing smile: As if he’d expected that question and was surprised it had taken me this long to ask it. “That, along with you soon heading to Hogwarts, we felt was enough to allow you the opportunity to apply your first flesh array. Otherwise, once you left, your mind would remain here, on what you hadn’t done, instead of building bridges with your house and yearmates at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t hear any comment on that distraction causing an issue for my studies,” I said, not bothering to deny they were right. There were less than two weeks until the end of the month, at which I’d be boarding the Hogwarts Express and not deducing the meaning of the language behind the runes in time. That fear had been growing daily, and continually gnawed at me no matter what I was doing.

“Dòmhnall, you could’ve gained Outstandings in all your First-Year exams by the time you were ten. Merlin, we suspect you could, at this very moment, enter the Third-Year runes class and emerge with at least an Exceeds Expectations. Your skill is beyond where many, though not all, of your yearmates are, and will be in a year’s time.”

I nodded, accepting the praise, though I did note that my great-grandfather was suggesting that even with all the tutoring I’d received over the last few years, I wouldn’t be far above everyone in my year. That was oddly encouraging, as it meant I’d have some challengers in my classes, which should push me to work harder, even if the coursework was beneath me.

There is also the fact, as you should understand, that no MacLeod of MacLeod knows the full details of the language used in the runic arrays the tome suggests. If it was required that a MacLeod could read and understand perfectly the language used by the tome, then none since the founding of our house would have been able to flesh carve.”

“Then telling me I wasn’t going to apply the array until I understood the language was what? A joke at my expense?” I wasn’t overly angry, but annoyance did slip into my tone.

“A joke that has been played on every heir to the Clan since the tome was written. One that, in time, we expect you to play on your children.” I ignored the jibe about me having children from my grandfather. That was far, far into the future, and no amount of hinting that I should get married young and have offspring as soon as I was able from my ancestors was going to change that intent. I had things other than securing the next generation of the Clan to handle first, such as simply surviving the coming decades as Voldemort rose in power and Wizarding Britain drifted to the brink of war.

“How exactly am I meant to have this array applied to my skin?” I asked, drawing a line under any discussion about the future of the Clan. That could wait for a long time, or at least until my grandmother and great-grandmother decided to subtly – or not subtly – hint at the matter.

“Traditionally, the first array is applied by the MacLeod of MacLeod to the children of the Clan when they turn sixteen.” My great-grandfather glanced at the table, his eyes seeking out a small metal bowl – likely forged by goblins – that rested slightly under the edge of the table. Given the way thin strips of metal flowed toward the bowl, I suspected it was designed and runed to gather any excess blood that came from the carving. “After the first array, which as you understand, is one every MacLeod gains as a base, any future arrays are added by the child. Generally, to ensure the safety of the main branch, only the children of the current MacLeod of MacLeod can apply more than three arrays, and only the current MacLeod and their direct heir have the right to apply as many arrays as the tome suggests, though only when they are capable of understanding those suggestions.”

“I see an issue with that approach,” I muttered, looking at the table with a small pit of anxiety forming in the base of my stomach.

“Yes. Without your father, or either of us, holding the title of MacLeod of MacLeod, you will have to apply the array yourself.”

“Look on the bright side,” my great-grandfather cut in, offering a weak smile, “because you are The MacLeod, you’re beginning your understanding of the tome, and what power it contains and offers, years before you otherwise would.”

“Lucky me,” I grumbled as I placed my hand on the table. There was magic in it, and it flowed through me via the torc meaning the magic of the room was linked to the ward core. That, in theory, should make it easier to apply the array, though given it was designed to be placed at the base of my spine, there was still the issue of figuring out how I was meant to see myself applying the room. The obvious answer was to use a charmed mirror, or some combination of them, to see what I was doing. However, in that same growing pit of concern, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

“The process, on the whole, while sounding concerning is relatively simple.” I didn’t even attempt to hide my disbelief at my grandfather’s words. “The magic of the room, through the various arrays, and as part of the ward core, is linked to you. The magic imbued into the table, while not connected as fully, shares a trace of blood magic, meaning it recognizes and accepts your connection to it and the instruments under its control. The torc adds another layer of safety, as the magic of the castle understands you are its master, and without it, entry to this room isn’t even possible.” He paused and glanced toward one of the tables at the far side of the room. When I’d entered I’d seen that table held a handful of vials and bottles of what I’d hoped was pain numbing or cancelling potions. “The only minor issue is that, as you are the one controlling the magic to carve the rune into your flesh, you cannot be under the effects of any potions or charms.”

“Wonderful.” While I’d been expecting that, I’d hoped I would be proven wrong. Even with magic involved, cutting into my flesh was going to hurt, but I’d already accepted that it was needed. Anything that, in theory, could grant abilities beyond the base level for a wizard – which was above that of a muggle – was worth enduring pain for. That said, I hoped that because this first array wasn’t anything seemingly major, it wouldn’t be excruciatingly painful. “So,” I continued, lifting my hand from the table, “how exactly do I go about this? I mean, I know that I have to lay face-down on the table, but do I have to remove all my clothes, or just my shirt to expose my back? Also,” I continued before my ancestors could answer, “is there a way to hide the array, and any that come after it, or at least some charm to cause others to ignore the array if they see it?”

My grandfather chuckled and gave a rueful shake of his head. “Once again you display the need to understand shines through. A legacy of your mother and grandmother.” I smirked, aware that the two women had been Ravenclaws. While my Clan, or at least the main branch, tended toward Slytherin, many had appeared in Ravenclaw. Strangely, children of the cadet branches leaned more toward Gryffindor than Slytherin, though since those children had to have the drive to make their way in the world without the backing of The MacLeod, I guess that was understandable. “Regarding your questions, you will have to remove all your clothing or at least everything that is in any way charmed.”

“Which is everything,” I muttered with mild annoyance. I’d seen that coming but had hoped I was wrong about it.

Turning back to the table, I pulled on the drawstring of my shirt. Over the last year or so, I’d transitioned to ghillie shirts, finding something about the traditional shirt of the Celtic Clans more appealing than the formal style worn by most English nobles. I’d probably keep wearing them at Hogwarts, as a student’s year and house were determined by the robe and the markings upon it, with what was worn underneath entirely up to the student. Still, I hoped that by the time I reached fourth or fifth year, I’d have bulked up enough for the shirts to stop hanging from my shoulders.

“Once you have undressed,” my grandfather continued, “you will lay face-down on the table. For other arrays, how you lay on the table will depend on where the arrays are to be added, but often they are intended to merge into the base array you shall be adding today. Once the array is applied, it must be left unencumbered for a minimum of twenty-four hours.”

“So, I’ll be walking around naked from the waist up for a day?” I rhetorically asked as I fiddled with my belt. “Good thing the castle is charmed to be comfortably warm.”

“Indeed. As for hiding this array, or any you apply later, there is little concern. While you live, you can channel some of your magic into the array to ensure others cannot see it, or that it appears indistinct. However, this comes at the cost of weakening the effectiveness of the array in question. It is possible to add a section to an array to ensure this is the case, though again it will weaken the purpose of the array. Along with requiring you to alter the arrangement of the various glyphs and runes used in the array. And before you concern yourself, the arrays cannot be discovered by others upon your death. When it is time for you to leave this mortal coil, the arrays, due to magic that I and my ancestors do not fully understand, burn away; leaving nothing for others to examine in the hope they might discover the purpose of any flesh-carved arrays.”

“Morbid, but useful,” I remarked as I pulled down my trousers and worked on getting socks off my feet. I’d already expected the arrays to be hidden, otherwise capturing any blood member of the Clan, and examining their body would reveal the secrets of the Clan’s magic. The fact it was also apparently impossible to determine the arrays used after death was another advantage, though one I had little intention of testing or using for a very long time.

“Aye, and it’s a question that, from what I understand, every child of the Clan has asked a similar question when it was time for their first array to be applied.” I nodded, having expected that. “Now, up you go,” my great-grandfather added as I pulled down my underwear.

“This would be awkward if you weren’t dead,” I muttered as I turned and climbed onto the table. “probably still is,” I added as I lay face-down on the table. The table warmed slightly, adjusting to my presence, and ensuring I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable lying on it.

“Good, now take your wand.”

I reached over and grasped my Lordly wand, which I’d placed on the table while undressing. I knew I’d need it for carving the array into my flesh, and had placed it on the table before I’d begun undressing. I could summon it to me, though I’d rather not do that and reveal I had some skill with the Summoning Charm before attending Hogwarts to my ancestors. The spell hadn’t been covered in any of my tutoring sessions, however, knowing the spell from my metaknowledge meant it and other spells were already part of my repertoire. At least where I had the skill, unlocked potential, and capacity to cast them.

It was unlikely my grandfather and great-grandfather would betray my trust, but my concern lay with their spouses. Cassiopeia had already proven she could contact House Black through other paintings that existed of her, and in theory, Áine could do the same with Clan O’Leary. As I didn’t want Chief Kyran or Lord Arcturus aware that I knew spells required for OWLs, if not NEWTS, I kept the truth of my abilities hidden from my family.

Shifting slightly, I saw the table generate a hole where my face rested over it. The edges of the hole were softer and understanding why it was there, I placed my head onto the padding, my gaze now locked on the floor below.

“What now?” I asked, expecting a series of magical mirrors to appear so I could see the base of my spine and thus carry out the carving.

“Close your eyes and lock onto the magic within you,” my grandfather replied. “Find that spark that forms the root of your connection to magic.” After years of meditating on just that, using the practice to better understand myself and how magic worked through and around me, and to slowly open pathways to help me move closer to fully unlocking my potential, it was easy to find the spark. The only difference that had occurred this year was that the spark had altered slightly. That had come from the tome and when I’d first opened it. As if somehow, it had merged in a small way with the spark of magic that was rooted deep within my soul.

“Good, now, keeping your focus on our magic, reach out. Feel the magic that flows through the table, the circle surrounding it, and the very room. Ease your way into their designs, spread your influence through them until they bent to your will.”

It was odd doing that, as the magic that lay in the Ritual Chamber, or more specifically the table and circle of runes around it, was part of the ward core and tome, and yet wasn’t. It was as if whoever designed them wasn’t a MacLeod, and yet was. Still, the magic I could feel flowing around me easily accepted my supremacy, and soon I could feel my presence encompassing every part of the Chamber.

“Impressive. It seems your lessons on unlocking your pathways have advanced further than we’d expected.” I heard my great-grandfather’s voice, but my focus was on the magic that I now controlled. The odd, familiar yet not, ripples in the runes of the table and circle array around it. The similarities to the tome were clear, and yet, somewhere deep in that new, ancient magical language, I swore I heard something. Almost as if someone or something was singing or calling to me.

“Now, with the magic under your control, think about what you want to achieve. Don’t concern your thoughts on the exact process. Instead, think about what you want to achieve. Intent, as with almost all magic, matters more than specifics here.”

I faintly heard the sound of something metallic moving, dragging itself across the stone. I understood the magic of the table was summoning a blade, one likely covered in runes and made by goblin metal or some other magically imbued metal, with which to carve my flesh. There was a small part of me that feared doing this, that felt cutting myself was a mistake or a step too far. That part, that tiny voice, was drowned out by the understanding I held that without access to my Clan’s magic, without learning everything I could and using it, my intentions, goals, and dreams would never come to pass.

I could sense the blade, no blades, coming closer, their purpose controlled by my intent. What I was about to do would hurt, I was sure of that, but I accepted that. If one wanted power, one had to be willing to endure hardships to grasp and control it.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

I rolled over slowly, not wanting to wake Xenocrates who was curled up nearby, a stray thought wondering about my flesh array. It didn’t hurt any more, the pain having passed, as I’d been told it would, inside of a day. Still, I was cautious about laying on my back whenever I thought about the array. I’d spent some time using mirrors to see the array, it only appearing when I wished it. It was hard to judge exacts even with a magical mirror that zoomed in on the array, but it appeared that I’d done an excellent job carving it into my flesh.

The changes brought on by the array were minor at best, as I’d only felt slightly stronger, faster, and more durable, but as this array was designed as a base for later ones, that made sense. Still, even a slight increase on the base physical standards of other wizards – which were considerably above a muggle’s – wasn’t something to sneeze at.

The tome had when I’d next opened it, revealed a new page. However, unlike the first page which contained the array now carved into my flesh, there wasn’t anything clear-cut on this new page. Instead, there were sections of an array. On their own, the small combinations of runes the tome suggested didn’t seem important, yet I suspected that combined they created something far greater than the sum of their parts. The issue was, apart from them not being joined to indicate how that array would work, the notes on the new page were entirely in the language of the tome; something I’d not made any real headway in discovering where the language came from, to say nothing of translating the pages. Merlin, even some advanced translation spells I’d discovered in books in the Inner Library, or in books I’d ordered from suppliers, failed to provide insights. It was almost as if the language used in the tome was inherently magical itself, and thus was able to resist attempts to force it to reveal its secrets.

Still, while the lack of progress on the new page, even going so far as to have a clear indication of what was being suggested rankled me, I accepted it. The knowledge of the book had to be earned, and that felt right. The idea of simply being granted what I wanted or desired had never appealed, so working to determine what the tome was suggesting, and how to create the array, called to my need to understand, for the sake of both knowledge and power that knowledge would grant.

The other upside to the tome working this way was that, while there was a good chance the page I could read was one other members of my Clan had seen, the way I created the array being hinted at, and how I applied it, was entirely my creation. Each member of Clan MacLeod used what the tome provided differently, in ways that benefited their desires and needs, which was something I could approve of. Even if it meant asking my ancestors for advice brought less than I might’ve initially hoped for.

Yet, for all the time I’d spent over the last two weeks scouring over books, scrolls, and other sources of older, possibly ancient knowledge, the knowledge the tome was hinting at wasn’t why I was unable to sleep tonight. That honour, as had been the case the last few nights where I’d also struggled to enter Mobius’ domain, belonged to what day tomorrow was.

September first, and all that pertained, awaited me in… well, it was already here according to the clock in my room as the face revealed it was about twenty minutes past midnight. Today then, was the reason I’d been struggling to sleep for a week.

After breakfast this morning, and after several of my cousins, including Iona O’Callaghan and Adele Lambert who were starting at Hogwarts at the same time – would arrive, I’d head to King’s Cross to board the Hogwarts Express.

Those cousins would be those who were in the first three years of Hogwarts, along with the prefects from Years Five through Seven. Due to the sheer number of students at this Hogwarts, which was somewhere between two thousand five hundred and three thousand – the start dates were staggered. New students and those in the lowest years started on September First, while Years Four through Seven – bar the prefects – returned the following Saturday with classes beginning on the next Monday. The idea there was so that the younger years could settle in first, with the First Years needing time to acclimatise to the school, and during the first few days would have introductory classes with the staff for the subjects covered in the first three years of school.

That made sense and would allow me to get a read on my year and younger housemates before the older students arrived, and reestablished whatever hierarchy existed in the school. I was clear on which house I wanted to join, and if given the chance to convince the Sorting Hat, would do so. However, there was always the possibility that I’d not have the same freedom to choose as had seemingly existed in the other timeline.

Regardless, a week – September first fell on Monday this year, so I had six days before the senior students returned – to determine the hierarchy of Years Two and Three and locate a prominent place in the Year One system, was something I felt I’d need. An average of a hundred students per house per year meant time was needed for those with the will, power, and skill to rise above the rest. Each house would have different standards on how someone would gain influence in the house, but I felt I was ready to exploit whichever house I was placed into. Though if the Hat sorted me into Gryffindor, I’d probably spent the next seven years seeking a way to turn that thing to ash.

The week or so of introductory classes, along with – I hoped – time to explore the castle and grounds, meant I’d be able to locate the entrances to the Room of Requirement, Chamber of Secrets, passage to Honeydukes, and other such hidden features. Along with, perhaps, discovering others that existed only in this version of Hogwarts. The challenge was going to be slipping free of the prefects, especially Bellatrix Black and Fergus Lambert.

While Bellatrix was likely to not care what sort of chaos I got up to, if Arcturus had instructed her to monitor my progress during the first month or so, then she’d have an eye on me whenever she was free. The same might be true of Narcissa, Andromeda, and Lyra, who along with my cousins, Magnus MacLeod, and Genevieve Montague, were in the first three years. However, with most of them having classes during that first week, it was unlikely they’d be much of a challenge to avoid.

My thoughts returned to my room as Xeno lifted his head, his sleep-addled eyes glaring at me for disrupting his rest. “Sorry,” I muttered, lifting a hand to gently stroke his fur down his spine. The raiju lowered his head as I petted him, accepting my apology, and my attention turned to how he’d spend most of his time in either my sleeping quarters or the house common room. Other students would have pets, probably even familiars for the older years, so it would be interesting to see what creatures Xeno would be around, and how he’d handle the increased number of people and animals.

I’d spoken with Deputy Headmistress McGonagall about Xeno, and she’d assured me he would be fine. Normally, younger students didn’t have familiars, but the groundskeeper – which I expected to be Hagrid – and Professor Kettleburn who was head of the Department of Care of Magical Creatures, were aware of Xeno and would help ensure he settled into the castle.

Sighing, though not loudly enough to disturb Xeno who continued to enjoy my pets, I looked up at the ceiling of my room. Tomorrow would be a long and interesting day, and I’d prefer to face it at least partially rested and not needing to rely on Pepper-up potions or similar magic to be sharp and alert to everyone and thing I’d encounter.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …