It was a normal day at Hogwarts, or as normal a day as could be. Excitement thrummed through the students and teachers alike, filling the air with anticipation and feverish enthusiasm. In less than a week, the first task of the controversial Triwizard Tournament would take place. However, that was not the main focus for the day.

As in any other school, especially one containing unruly and quite hormonal teenagers, there was a group of students admiring one of their peers. Many blushed when the object of their affections looked up from his book, but his gaze did not even register their presence. While in any other circumstances they would try to approach him, the boy was not alone, something that was a rather common, if disappointing occurrence. Harry Potter was never alone.

The fact that he was sitting beside a single female instead of being surrounded by his entourage would not have been enough to stop the infatuated teenagers if only his companion was another person. Had the female been any other than the single student who possessed exquisite beauty and radiated allure through her pores, there was no doubt that they would make their move to gain the attention of the attractive student.

"This is a library, not the great hall!" Madam Pince admonished the group, blocking their view.

The glare the woman directed at them promised a terrible detention to anyone who remained. At last, the group of fans dispersed, though not before casting wistful glances at the person who managed to steal their hearts. The librarian huffed at the blatant disrespect the students showed to the place she considered sacred. That is without counting the fact that they were almost stalking her favourite students, two quiet and respectful kids who understood the value of a good book. She glared at the few students who were making noise and went back to her desk after they stopped talking.

"Madam Pince is our hero once again, protecting us from your evil fans," stated the attractive girl with a few dramatic gestures that made her companion smile.

"I have no fans, Miss Delacour," the boy retorted, imitating his companion's dramatic tone. "It is you who has attracted such a crowd."

"Oh my, Mister Potter, you flatter me," Fleur answered, directing a flirtatious smile towards him, "but we both know that only your charm is able to entrance all those students."

"I must disagree, Miss Delacour," he stated, giving his friend a charming smirk that would make the strongest person feel faint. "Your beauty is a mere compliment to your clever mind, which is enough to drive any mage to their knees," Harry whispered, enjoying the girl's unusual blush, but deciding he had embarrassed her enough. "Have I congratulated you?"

"For what?" asked the confused girl while looking at the table as if the answers to life's mysteries were written on it.

"Your English improved considerably, it's hard to believe that a month ago your accent was heavier than Maxime's."

"See what I mean? You say all those things and manage to seduce so many innocents," Fleur said, though there was still a slight blush adorning her cheeks.

"Shut up, I was complimenting your English, woman, not asking you on a date," grumbled an exasperated Harry. "Talking about dates, how was your outing with Mister Diggory yesterday?"

"Good enough," she shrugged, a smile tugging on the commissure of her lips. "He wanted to go to that hideous pink place but I convinced him to go to the Quidditch store instead. We got a few boxes of chocolate and came back. Marcus doesn't visit every day, you know?"

"So, when will I be giving both of you the shovel talk?" asked an amused teenager.

"Hopefully never," she replied with an easy smile. "I realized that I like him as a friend and, while he finds me attractive, he doesn't like me either... And if we are honest, he spends as much time as Draco on his hair. I don't think I have that kind of patience."

"You do have a valid point," Harry nodded at the smiling girl, "though not everyone has been blessed with good genes. Personally, I thank mine for choosing mum’s hair instead of my father’s. According to the pictures I've seen of him, he had a wild nest on his head."

"Well, I can't imagine the illustrious Mister Potter in such a dishevelled state. What a scandal that would be," she retorted with faux horror.

"Let's go to the headquarters already," the boy replied, feeling miffed, but overall amused at the girl's playful disposition.

"As the King commands," she said, curtsying with all the grace she could muster.

Feeling quite mischievous himself, Harry offered her his arm in order to guide her. The older girl gave him an impish smile and accepted the offered arm. The duo exited the library after engaging the librarian in a brief conversation and commotion followed their path when students caught a glimpse of the duo in what they considered a compromising position. People stared and gossiped as the news spread throughout the school like fire on gasoline.

"You know? By the time we reach our room they will be talking about our imminent wedding," Fleur commented, a smirk stretching her lips.

"Well, that depends," Harry said with a casual tone. "According to the rumour mill yesterday, Daphne and I have been engaged for a year... Though there is also the rumour that Theo is my long-time lover." While these statements were delivered in an almost lackadaisical manner, it was obvious that the teenager was somewhat vexed by them, but amused for the most part.

"I talked with Valerie yesterday," she said, deciding that it was time to change the topic. "She refused the uniform again and it is the last time I am going to ask her."

"You only had to ask her once," Harry deadpanned.

"Maybe, but I didn't like the idea of her being the odd one out," she said with a heavy sigh.

"You did your best. When people don't want to be helped, there's nothing you can do."

"At least Iwan agreed on the uniform... Though he chose red," Fleur huffed.

"Is it the same shade as yours?"

"Oh, no, that is why I am offended - that bright shade of red is hideous."

"When did you see it?" the boy asked with caution after a few seconds.

"Yesterday. While Cedric and I were in the village we saw Iwan entering the clothing store," she commented, not noticing how the boy beside her relaxed. It was good to not have a stalker in the Court. "...and I had to force him to try on a few things. One of those was a robe that complimented his features, so I bought it as a gift to him. You know, for being a decent human being unlike many others and all that. The thing is that Cedric was whining about also needing a new robe and I bought him one. Of course, he began nagging me about getting matching sweaters, so I ended up dragging him out," she finished her narration with an annoyed huff.

Harry just blinked at his companion, not knowing what the appropriate response to such a bizarre story was, a story he somehow managed to miss the beginning of, though his sense of self-preservation won over his curiosity and he remained silent. Much to his relief, he noticed that they were already at the doors to the Court Headquarters, which opened without aid. Fleur left his side and hopped towards Neville, who was so concentrated on his book that he did not notice the girl. Harry walked towards his usual place and took out the journal they found in the Founder's Chamber, along with his notebook. The boy spent more time than he felt appropriate in solving the puzzle that was left behind. He admitted without the slightest hint of resentment that the previous queen was a clever woman.

"I managed to translate the journal," he announced.

The room fell silent for a brief moment. Before his friends swarmed him, Harry raised his hand in a tacit cue of silence and signalled for a few to retrieve the members that were in the other areas of the room. After a few minutes, the whole Court was assembled. Every member was silent, paying attention to their leader.

"The last Queen was brilliant," Harry began explaining. "She not only created a code, but she also managed to charm every single word in her journal and all the books that we found with a potent and almost undetectable confundus charm. If that was not enough, most of the leads that we found in the room were false. The only way I could begin deciphering the code was thanks to the plaque that Viktor discovered."

With those words, he opened the journal and cast a silent spell on it. The letters morphed and moved through the pages until normal words were left. The group watched their King with amazement and more than a little reverence.

"My name is Helena Guinevere of Morgen, daughter of Morgana, supreme enchantress, and Queen of Hogwarts," Harry began reading and the air got thick with anticipation. "The world in which you are living now is my legacy, in one way or another. I hope my experiences are able to guide you throughout your journey to protect magic, because if that was not your objective then Hogwarts would not have chosen you as her protector. While now I am a powerful witch, I once was a student. During my Hogwarts years, I was forced to go through the name of Clarissa of Lowell for my protection. The times where I was young were turbulent and much resentment had built up over the years. But before I write my story, I will tell you about the situation the magical world was submerged in.

"History has vilified my mother and hailed Merlin as the greatest wizard that has ever existed. However, the real man behind that facade was nothing but a despicable megalomaniac who believed every decision he made was the right one. He was a young magician when he witnessed a prophecy. However, he believed that it was given to him and he did everything in his power to turn it into reality. 'For three moons, the king will covet. The fourth, the king will take. The fruit of pain and desire will be born, the innocent Saviour of Albion. In a land where peace reigns, the ruler will be crowned and magic will be safe. An oath the child of fear keeps with his final breath as the King receives the kiss of Death. By the hand of a man, the world will fall, but by the fruit of the Queen, it will be reborn.'" As Harry read the prophecy, Luna's eyes glazed over, acquiring that strange pale hue that still managed to surprise the group.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Morgana's mother was the wife of a rich merchant. The woman was so beautiful that the king coveted her from the moment he saw her," Luna narrated, taking out an empty parchment and beginning to draw. "The family was invited to the palace for a banquet and the king ordered his servants to drug the merchant, for he had rejected all the advances of the concubines and ladies of the court. The king forced himself on the woman. Morgana had always been clever and she managed to subdue all the soldiers that guarded the entrance to the chambers. What she was not expecting was another mage to be in her path. Her adversary was much more experienced and powerful, managing to subdue her. For hours, she listened to the desperate cries of her mother.

"The next day the merchant was murdered. Morgana was thrown in the dungeons while King Uther planned his wedding with the unwilling bride. Knowing her mother depended on her - the girl managed to escape her prison and, by a hair's breadth, rescue her mother. Both disappeared from the kingdom and lived in peace for a few months. Tragedy struck again when the women believed themselves free at last, for the mother was with child. Despite the origins of the baby, Morgana decided she would not hate an innocent. However, her mother did not possess the same fortitude and she fell ill because of her broken heart, perishing months later while giving birth.

"Years went by and, despite her tender age, Morgana took her father's place and went on with business, practising her magic, and raising the child as best as she could. It was hard, yet she found happiness in her simple life. One day, a disguised man invaded their home, demanding her brother. She recognized him as the mage that allowed such a heinous crime to take place and a battle ensued. Morgana improved but was defeated. Once more, she could only watch as the man took away the last member of her family. She swore revenge."

The soft voice of the girl entranced the people that surrounded her, so no one noticed Luna beginning another drawing. Harry listened to the story, and even though he read it a few hours ago, the cruelty of it did not stop perturbing him. The members of the Court waited a few moments for Luna to speak again, but she ignored them in favour of her drawing.

"Morgana trained herself for years, assuming different identities," Harry continued narrating, deciding to forego the reading. "During those years, she travelled the world and discovered it was a rotten place where death and bigotry ruled. In order to keep her father's business afloat, she disguised as a male. Actually, she was amongst the first recorded Metamorphmagi. Years later, she heard the rumours of the great Merlin and decided to search for him in order to learn, without knowing he was her sworn enemy. When she arrived at the kingdom that no longer hunted magicals, but where they were still hated and feared, she assumed the identity as Guinevere as a precaution.

"Perhaps she was a seer or she had excellent instincts because she met Merlin and knew she arrived at the right place. The man took her under his wing, enchanted by the talented witch who he was going to train to be the king's healer. When Arthur met her, he fell immediately in love and began courting her-"

"But they were siblings!" exclaimed a horrified Fred.

"That hasn't stopped pure-bloods before," said Hestia in response, though she looked as disgusted as the others.

"Morgana took the opportunity and she became the queen after brief months, and thus her revenge began," Harry continued narrating, dismissing the interruption. "She dosed Uther, the last king, with a potion of her own creation, one that made every breath excruciating torture. The man lived for years in endless agony until she killed him. During this time, she got close to Merlin. He was entranced by her beauty and charisma, soon enough, she became his confidant, but Arthur began suspecting the affections of the man he considered his mentor towards his wife. While both of them were engaged in a silent battle for her heart, she met Merlin's protégé and Arthur's greatest friend, Lancelot du Lac."

"They fell in love," Luna commented but kept drawing. "While her husband and her enemy were in a feud, she enjoyed years with the man she loved. However, this didn't mean that she spent her time idle. She practised her magic and searched for information about Merlin while she waited for the best moment to reveal her trump card...

"During her travels, she met an ill woman who claimed to be King Uther's wife. She run away with her son when the magician brought a child that, according to him, was the fruit from the woman the king wished to take as a wife but disappeared, leaving him heartbroken. Uther loved the new child more than he loved his previous one and the woman feared for her son's life. In the end, Morgana took care of the child, raising him to be the weapon of her revenge. She named him Mordred, and when he was of age, she sent him to the north in order to gather troops while she searched for Merlin... It was all a tangle of lies and deceit," the girl sighed and once again ignored her public.

"Once Mordred contacted Morgana to inform her that he had an army and a kingdom, she decided to expose her affair with Lancelot and a civil war erupted. While Arthur was the King, Lancelot was a brave knight who earned the loyalty of more than half of the troops. It was all a bloodbath. Merlin decided to side with Arthur because of the prophecy yet did nothing but the bare minimum to aid him. Morgana took a neutral stance and provided healing for her husband and her lover, biding her time. When they were at their weakest, Mordred attacked and the massacre began anew.

"Morgana took her opportunity and confronted Merlin, killing him at the end of their battle. The man died with the knowledge that he had created his own downfall, and not even death relieved him from his guilt. Her husband was left fighting a war he was already losing alone. She watched as Arthur murdered Mordred, but she shed no tears for he accomplished his purpose. Lancelot landed the killing blow on her husband and the battle was over. She destroyed all the journals that belonged to Merlin, erasing the evidence of the brutal ideologies of the man. As the queen, she announced that all children carried her blessing and disappeared, not to be seen again. Stories of her blessing being given in different villages circled around for decades."

"Every magical heard about the battle, and especially about Morgana," Luna muttered, looking at Harry. "She was heralded as the murderer of Merlin, the greatest wizard of their times. No one wanted to believe that such a feat was possible, but fear permeated all the magicals that heard of the confrontation. As a result, she was turned into a villain... There were rumours of her reappearing after a few years, when her name was still whispered in fear, but people forgot her blessing. A whole village was annihilated, except for the children, who all carried the mark of Morgana."

This time, Harry allowed for the silence to stretch. By no means was the information given easy to assimilate; knowing that the man who was named the greatest wizard of the millennium was not the white dove he was remembered as must be disappointing.

"It's official, I hate Merlin," grumbled Cedric, gaining the attention of the other members.

"While he was no angel, Morgana was not an innocent either," Flora said, frowning at the table.

"He turned her into the person she became," Adrian argued.

"She could have been the better person, but she chose revenge instead," claimed Daphne, scowling at the opposing party.

"It's an interesting story, but why is it important?" asked Theo, trying to avoid a debate that would take far too long for his tastes.

"Because the Queen was the child of the prophecy," Terrence muttered as his eyes widened at the realization.

"Indeed," Harry nodded at the bright male. "The prophecy was far too vague, but Helena fitted better than Arthur did. We don't know who her father was - it could have been King Arthur, Sir Lancelot, or any other man for the matter."

"Who, by being the Queen's lover and at the death of Arthur, would have become the de facto King," Hestia analyzed.

"Hogwarts may be the land where peace reigns and she was crowned here," Fred added.

"And all that disaster was because of one person," muttered a still shocked Viktor.

"What else happened?" asked Fleur, interrupting the analysis.

"Those were shaky times and there was still no other safe place for the magical people aside from Hogwarts. Helena decided to change that. When she was in fourth year, she began the Slytherin Guild and when she was in sixth, the Court was created," Harry explained, and no one asked for more details. After the story of Morgana, the life of her daughter seemed rather dull in comparison. "As you know, they placed the protections for Hogsmeade and created Diagon Alley. I will give you all a copy of her journal - there are interesting things about the school and how they built the Alley."

"You know, I always thought Diagon Alley was a bit antiquated and, let's admit it, the entrance doesn't give the best impression to the people that arrive for the first time," Justin commented, looking lost in his thoughts.

"There's no way to refute that," Harry agreed, frowning at the memories of his first impression of the magical world.

"Let's build a new one then!" exclaimed an excited Hestia, hitting her complaining sister while a maniac smile stretched her lips. "We have the information and you have the money," she chirped, imploring Harry with her eyes.

"That's a solid possibility, but we need to think about the location, the design, the protection, the entrance-" Harry was interrupted by the squealing Carrow twins.

"Mister Filch!" they announced in unison.

"You said you were thinking of buying one of those Muggle places that have cats and hire him," Flora babbled in a single breath.

"If that's common for Muggles then that can be the entrance," Hestia declared.

"I'll think about it, but I need to speak with Ragnok," Harry told the young girls.

"Of course you do," Draco teased. The boy was silenced when the two balls of energy began nagging him, much to Harry's delight.

"When will you mark us?" asked Luna. Her eyes had yet to return to her usual shade. Harry noticed Blaise was at her side, ready to aid her when the trance was broken.

"What do you mean?" retorted Harry in a dismissive tone, not ready to broach the topic.

"All leaders have a symbol, but the one you have been planning will be the turning point," she commented while still drawing, her words brought a heavy silence to the room and every member of the Court paid attention.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Terrence with caution.

"Marks are not only a sign of loyalty but a sign of utter trust," the girl answered. "Our king is designing a mark for our protection. By placing it on us, he is giving us his trust, and by accepting it, we are showing him our loyalty."

"I would be honoured to take it," announced Fleur in a soft voice, breaking the prolonged and quite tense silence that seemed to vanish when she spoke.

The members of the Court looked at each other and their decision was made. The Court would change the world and the mark would be a sign of their loyalty.

Harry could only smile at his friends, and think of how much Marcus would nag him for not being present.

"The mark isn't finished, there are a few details I still need to fix," Harry explained.

"Soon," Luna sighed and stopped drawing.

The girl leaned on Blaise and closed her eyes, allowing exhaustion to take over. Harry approached them without wasting a second, worried about her health. However, when he caught a glimpse of the parchments she was using, every single thought fled his mind and he froze in his place. On those pages, the life of Morgana was drawn, from a frightened child bound on the floor, observed by a stoic male, to a beauteous woman who watched those who wronged her perish at her feet.

'And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.' After all, Nietzsche was right.