Chapter 50: 1534AD Erased History

He was running through the night. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, his breathing was laboured and his feet tired.

He stumbled, caught himself and continued running.

It was dark already and the longer he ran, the darker it got.

He was inside a forest, far away from any kind of civilisation he could see, but he dared not to stop, dared not to relax his guard and give his body the rest it needed.

"Ralston, please!" a young girl's voice begged him when he stumbled again. The voice sounded even more tired than he felt. "Please! I can't run anymore!"

"But you have to, Móna," he replied while forcing himself to keep running. "We're still far too close. They will find us if we don't keep running."

"But I'm tired, Ralston," the girl replied.

Then she stumbled as well and only Ralston's grip on her hand prevented her fall.

"I know," he huffed. "But we have no choice. We have… to get… away from here."

"But -"

"If we stop, they will come and drag us back there," Ralston argued. He felt the girl shivering behind himself when he said that and for a moment he regretted his blunt words.

He knew that she was terrified of them - and he couldn't fault her.

If they had done to him what they did to her, he would have been terrified as well.

"I'm… sorry… Móna," he apologized anyway.

"'S alright," she answered instantly. "You're right anyway."

But Ralston wished he wasn't.

She was only a girl of eleven - she shouldn't be running through the night in search for safety.

"But then," Ralston thought bitterly. "I'm twelve, going on thirteen - I shouldn't be running as well."

And yet, here they were, running through the night, fearing even the shadows on their way.

What if they were caught by them?

What would happen to them if their pursuers would catch them?

And pursued they were, Ralston couldn't hear them over the wind, but he knew they were there. He had seen their shadows not too long ago.

How long would it take until they were caught?

Their pursuers were close. One false step, one second of hesitation and they would be caught.

But they couldn't go back - not Ralston, and especially not Móna.

Ralston shuddered inwardly.

Even yet, hours after they fled, he could hear the Headmaster's voice cutting through the wind to reach their fleeing forms.

"Running away, my boy?" He had called after them. "That's not the Gryffindor thing to do, Ralston!"

At those words, Ralston had faltered for a second.

He was a Gryffindor.

He was proud to be a Gryffindor - and yet, he was running…

Then Móna had stiffened next to him and he was reminded of the eleven-year-old girl who had suffered at the hands of the man who should have shielded her.

Ralston picked up speed, pulling the girl with him by their clasped hands.

He wouldn't sit by and watch her suffer again!

Yes, he was a Gryffindor!

Yes, he was proud to be sorted in the House of courage!

But sometimes… sometimes it needed courage to run away as well - and Ralston had shown that courage that day.

He would not force Móna to return to people who tortured her!

"Ralston, please," she pleaded again with him.

"Just a bit longer," he reassured her. "Just a bit! We just need to find a place where we can hide from them… we need to stay safe… we can't return to them… we can't!"

But it was fruitless, and Ralston knew that.

They were still far too close, with their pursuers right behind them. They had no chance anymore. Even if they kept running, their pursuers would get them soon.

In that moment Móna stumbled and Ralston was too late to catch her.

She tumbled into him and they both fell to the floor - and down a steep slope to their left.

In the end their fall was broken by the most unexpected thing.

A body.

A human, living and breathing body.

The man - because the body was definitely male - had been walking until the two children basically tumbled on top of them.

To Ralston's surprise the man beneath them actually grabbed both children and broke their fall with his own body deliberately so that they wouldn't get hurt further.

They ended up in a heap on the floor, the man mostly buried by Ralston's and Móna's limbs.

"Meh," the man said. "That's not how I imagined my not quite allowed trip onto the Isles would go."

Ralston blinked confused at the man, but before he could even think about saying something, other voices could be heard in the wind.

"We're close," a voice that send shivers down Ralston's neck called. "I heard them over there!"

They were done for.

Next to him, Ralston could hear Móna crying and whispering. She was praying while at the same time apologizing for her clumsiness.

The man on the other hand didn't seem amused at all by the voices.

"Are those beasts pursuing you?" He asked, outrage in his voice.

"They are," Ralston said before he stiffened further.

He could hear footsteps on top of the slope now.

Just a second or two and they were caught…

"Pursuing!" The man hissed in outrage. "Children?!"

And suddenly the temperature around them fell until Ralston could see his breath fogging in front of him.

Then feelings creeped up inside him, telling him that he was in immediate danger.

The footsteps on the slope faltered and stopped.

"Why are you stopping, you moron?" Another voice hissed. "We have to catch those two brats and bring them back to the castle."

"Th… there's something there, boss," the man who had been on the way towards the slope stuttered.

"Of course there is, moron! Those two brats are there!"

"S… something else, boss," the man replied, his voice shaking more and more. "S… something d… dangerous."

Ralston couldn't object to that assessment.

The unnatural coldness in the air and the feeling of dreed surrounding him told him as much.

He shivered and the man pulled him closer before patting his hair as if Ralston was a pet.

"Don't worry, little one," the man beneath him said. "Old Ekrizdis will look after you."

The man patted his head again.

"Even without my pets I will make sure that nothing'll touch you," the man crooned. "Don't worry, little ones. Old Ekrizdis knows what he does!"

And with that, thick, unnatural fog started to well up around them.

Ralston shivered even more.

His whole being was screaming at him that he was in danger.

Then the coldness seeped into his clothes, flesh and bones.

He gasped and his breath was even whiter than it had been before.

Then he heard the boss's voice again.

"Something dangerous?" He scoffed. "Something dangerous?! Are you a baby that you're afraid of a small slope in the dark?"

"No, sir!" The man replied immediately. "But there's something else -"

"Nothing in this forest is even the slightest bit dangerous for a wizard," the other man barked out. "This is a non-magical forest!"

"O… of course, sir," the man stuttered and then his footfalls could be heard again, making their way through the dried leaves on the floor towards the edge of the slope.

Ralston wished that he could stand up and run, but the coldness was paralysing him and the man's hands kept him in place as well. He shuddered again and buried his head into the man's chest. He wasn't willing to watch them being found and dragged back from where they came from.

Silence reigned around them, the only thing moving were the dried leaves beneath their pursuer's boots while he climbed down the steep slope.

The footsteps came closer and closer.

Ralston shivered again.

He felt cold to the bones - and yet, there was something oddly… soothing in the coldness of his body. It was like coming home after being away for a long, long time. And yet, at the same time it felt like a sledgehammer coming down upon him, trying to knock him out and he had to actually fight to keep his consciousness.

There was also the fact that the longer he stayed entrenched into this unnatural cold, the more the whole experience gained a dreamlike essence.

Then the boots of his pursuer crunched down the dried leaves just two or three steps away from them.

Ralston shivered again.

They were found.

Ralston pressed his eyes tightly together.

One second went by, the next.

Silence.

"Th… they're gone, sir," their pursuer said stuttering. "I… I can't see them anywhere."

The voice of his boss could be heard a second later from atop of the slope.

"That's all your fault, moron!" The boss accused. "If you had followed after them immediately they wouldn't have been able to flee!"

"But, boss!" The man objected.

"Shut up, moron!" The boss's voice cursed. "We're going further and try to catch up to the brats. Join us as soon as possible!"

And with that, the whooshing of several brooms could be heard when the other wizards returned to their search which led them further and further away from Ralston, Móna and the man who rescued them.

"Sir!" The pursuer who had been forced to go down the slope cried out. "Sir! Please don't leave me here alone!"

Ralston opened his eyes.

Just two steps away stood the man who had followed them down the slope, his face terrified, surrounded by unnatural fog and coldness.

"Those other thirty to fifty might be too much for me alone," the man beneath Ralston whispered. "But you alone, my dear, are easy prey even with my pets so far away!"

With that, the fog around their pursuer thickened even further until Ralston couldn't see the man at all.

"No, no, no!" He could hear the man praying. "Please no!"

Then there was a gasp, hitched breathing.

The fog and cold got even stronger and took on an unearthly shine.

The breathing hitched even further.

Then a muffled scream, nearly silenced by the fog around them.

And suddenly silence.

Utter and undisturbed silence.

Then the sound of something heavy falling onto the dried leaves and the earthy ground around them.

Ralston stared blindly into the night.

"What… what happened?" He whispered fearfully.

The answer was as soft as his question.

"Nothing I will ever regret, little one," the man beneath him said while baring his teeth in an expression which could have been a smile if not for the utter wilderness in the man's gazes. Like it was, it looked more like a challenging grin than a true smile. "Nothing I will ever regret."

Ralston shivered.

"You killed him," he accused.

The man beneath him shrugged, Ralston could feel the shoulders shifting.

"They're guilty," the man said. "Like every other adult they're guilty. I don't mind killing the guilty."

Then he send Ralston another fearsome smile.

"Guilty?" Móna asked in that moment confused. "Guilty of what?"

The man bared his teeth.

"Of prejudice, of arrogance, of self-centredness. It doesn't matter. They're guilty - that's all you need to know," he replied unconcerned and absolutely self-assured of his beliefs.

Ralston frowned.

"But," he started to say and the man laughed.

"Don't worry, little ones," he said. "You will learn soon enough."

Ralston doubted it - but at the same time he couldn't object that the man who had pursued them had been dangerous and maybe even evil. As much as Ralston abhorred needless killing, he could understand that the man had to die.

If he had found them, it would have been them who had died at his hand, after all.

Then the man beneath Ralston and Móna shifted and tried to sit up.

He had removed his hands from Ralston's body and was now using them to help him sit up.

Ralston took that as his cue to scramble to his feet.

Móna, next to him, did the same thing.

"So," the man who had been beneath them asked them with an interested gaze while the fog and coldness surrounding them slowly vanished. "How did you two end up here on top of Old Ekrizdis?"

Ralston and Móna exchanged a glance.

Then Ralston squared his shoulders and answered.

"We ran away from Hogwarts," he said while fearing the man's reaction. Most adults never asked why, they simply wanted to bring them back there.

Would this man be the same?

"Ah," the man said. "Seems logical to me."

Ralston blinked in confusion.

"Logical?" He asked with a scrunched up nose. It wasn't that he wasn't thankful for the man's reaction… but logical?!

The man, Ekrizdis, nodded.

"Of course, logical," he said. "Adults are in charge of that school. It's quite logical that children with brains flee from there."

Somehow Ralston got the feeling that the man didn't like adults for whatever reason…

"It's not because of the adults that we decided to flee," Ralston objected. "Well… not all adults, I guess. It's mostly because of the Headmaster and his cronies!"

"Sounds like I was right, to me," Ekrizdis pointed out and Ralston rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Believe me," he said. "If it had just been because Hogwarts has adults in it, I wouldn't even have thought about running. Those people - they might look like adults, but they're actually monsters."

That made the man blink.

"Monsters?" He repeated before looking at Ralston thoughtfully. "I know about monsters. I met a monster child some years ago. He's the reason why my pets refuse to even set one foot on the Isles, you know, little one?"

Ralston wasn't quite sure what the man was actually talking about.

Ekrizdis on the other hand tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"I understand the fear of monsters. I wouldn't dare to tell the monster child that I was walking about on his Isles without his permission… and I'm even abbeding his rules while walking here!" Then the man looked into the direction of the fallen and dead body of one of the pursuers.

"Well," he amended. "I at least try to follow his rules…"

Ralston just looked back at the body in confusion.

"Huh?" He asked while grimacing at the body. At least it was intact. It even looked more like the man was simply sleeping instead of dead - if he had been breathing, that is. Even from three feet away and in darkness Ralston could see that the man's chest wasn't moving anymore.

"No killing," Ekrizdis explained and grimaced himself. "The monster child doesn't understand that adults are all guilty by default."

Then the man shrugged.

"Oh, well," he said. "I guess there is a reason why my pets still call him a 'child'. I wonder how long a monster like him needs before he's grown up? Not that he will ever be an adult. He's a decent born creature like me - even if he had the audacity to be born with phoenix blood in his veins."

The man looked at Ralston.

"Your Headmaster," he said. "He was born with phoenix blood in his veins, wasn't he?"

Now Ralston was utterly confused.

Somehow, he got the impression that the man wasn't… quite right in the head.

"No," he finally decided to say. "Why did you think he was born like that?"

The man shrugged.

"You called him a monster," he pointed out. "The only monster I know about is the monster child - and he is a monster because of the phoenix blood in his veins."

Why would somebody be labelled as a monster because he had phoenix blood in his veins?

Ralston decided to ignore that direction of thought.

"I called the Headmaster a monster because he decided to experiment on us children!" He said instead. "Some of them even died! And Móna…"

He stopped and looked at the girl with him.

She returned his gaze with her now calm and dreamy eyes.

Ralston hadn't seen that expression on her face for quite some time - not since the Headmaster had put her under that curse…

Her silver-blond hair was a bit tussled and her robes were dirty, the Slytherin crest nearly lost within the dried dirty surrounding it.

And yet, she looked better than she had for months…

It had been Samhain in his second year at Hogwarts when Ralston finally made the decision to run. Before that he had never even thought about running before.

Ralston wondered if it had something to do with potions.

In his first year, he definitely hadn't even considered running and telling somebody. He was a Gryffindor and Gryffindor's shouldn't run.

They should stay and fight.

They should show true courage.

Yet, on Samhain, the day of the dead, his decision to stay and endure broke suddenly like a potion's induced haze fading.

In the morning the day before, Ralston had been sure that he would stay and act like a true Gryffindor.

It was his legacy to act like that, after all.

His family had been brave for generations.

Ralston had gotten the heir's ring of his family last summer.

His parents had told him that 'it was time for him to get it', but Ralston had known the true reason: He had finally proven that he was brave enough and grownup enough to bear a burden like the heir's ring all by himself.

His life in Hogwarts was just part of that burden.

At least, that had been his thoughts just the day before.

Then Samhain had happened…

And suddenly, nothing was like it had been before.

"Bravery sometimes also means to run away and get help," his ring whispered to him the moment he woke up after Samhain. "Didn't you feel the dead reaching out to you last night and urging you to run?"

"I'm a Gryffindor, I don't run," Ralston had tried to tell himself, but his sudden and odd connection with the dead made him falter in his beliefs.

Ralston's family had always been special. They were descendants of the first. Descendants of the grim. No rules bound them like other immortals. No creature-born was ever like them.

Ralston knew that as Olde ones, his family had lost a lot of their power and only the heir's and lord's ring was capable of rekindling the flame that made them Olde ones - but it didn't matter.

His family was different and even while trying to hide their differences towards the world, they still stood out in one way or another.

"But sometimes, bravery means running," his ring whispered, relaying the words of the dead. "Sometimes running is the bravest thing you can do."

And this time, Ralston couldn't find it in himself to object to those words.

Whatever potion or spell it had been that had kept him at Hogwarts and made him decide to suffer in silence had been broken by the protection his ancestor Peverell Grim had woven into the heir's ring.

So that evening, on the day after Samhain, Ralston confronted his dorm-mates with his plans…

"We have to get out of here," he said while looking at the others in his dorm. "We have to go and find someone who will believe us!"

"Ralston," one of his dorm-mates said with a sigh. "There's no one who will believe us. Don't you think that others haven't tried? Those who ran died - and those who talked were silenced before someone believed them."

Ralston, a young second-year Gryffindor frowned.

"But someone has to believe us!" He objected. "We just have to get away and speak up for us - then someone will believe us!"

"You're a dreamer, Ralston," another one of his dorm-mates said sighing. "Believe me - others tried to tell their parents or somebody else! Not one of them listened!"

"But what about the dead?" Ralston asked confused. "What about -"

"All explained away as accidents and whatever," the third dorm-mate said darkly. "I didn't even think about questioning it before coming here, you know?"

Ralston frowned.

"But we are Gryffindors!" He objected. "If we aren't brave enough to run and get help - who else is?"

They argued back and forth afterwards, neither giving in, neither giving up. Ralston, for whatever else he was, was a stubborn child of twelve.

He was the heir of his family and he had grown up with the burden that came with his family name. For him, thanks to the unique inheritance of his family, the fear of dying was nearly non-existent and he simply couldn't understand why others feared people who threatened them with death.

So of course, he couldn't see the point his dorm-mates were trying to make.

In his eyes, you should respect death and live your life to the fullest - but you shouldn't fear it. When it was your time, you should accept it and greet it like an old friend.

This was something his dorm-mates couldn't understand at all.

"Just let it be, Ralston!" One of his dorm-mates finally snapped after minutes of fruitless arguing. "Nobody is stupid enough to go through with your plans and get themselves killed! Just be glad if we don't go to one of them and tell on you!"

Ralston just frowned at the other boy.

"Go and do it," he said. "I won't back down - and if I have to do it by myself, so be it. You are the ones who will have to live with the fact that you acted like cowardly lions."

And yet, it would take another week and a revelation he had previously not known about that finally forced him to go through with his decision.

Ekrizdis was now frowning at Ralston.

"So… that Headmaster," he said slowly. "Killed some children?"

Ralston nodded while making himself a little bit more comfortable on the ground. It seemed like the man wasn't in a hurry to go his way or let them leave, so Ralston could at least be comfortable if he had to sit on the ground for a while.

"That he did," he said.

"He's experimenting on us," Móna added nearly silently. "Those new spells - he's the one who created them. He's trying to find out their limits. He's hoping that he's right and there are no counters for them nor a way to make counters."

She shuddered at that and Ralston reached out to take her hand in his and squeeze it.

He knew what she was thinking about.

Her suffering had been the reason why he grabbed her and run in the end.

Oh, logically he knew that others were suffering ad well - but he couldn't take everybody. So he decided to take her and run.

He was sure that if they just escaped he would find a way to stop those monsters permanently.

"Experimenting?" Ekrizdis said, not sounding put out at all at those words, but then his mien darkened. "On children?"

Ralston didn't know what Ekrizdis had against adults - but whatever it was, it didn't seem to affect his belief that children were… good.

"Yes," Móna said shivering. "Experimenting. It's horrible!"

Ralston had been on his way to the dorms when he heard the voice coming out of one of the unused class rooms.

"Imperio!" The voice said. It was male, belonged to an adult and definitely sounded like the Headmaster's.

Ralston frowned.

For a moment, he wanted to close his eyes and just walk by and ignore the classroom, then his suspicion forced him to take different actions.

He pulled out the invisibility cloak he had inherited from his father and slipped beneath it.

Then he creeped towards the unused classroom.

"Don't scream," the Headmaster's voice was heard commanding through the door.

"Do you truly want her not to scream?" Another voice spoke up in that moment. It was the potion's professor's voice and Ralston shivered at the tone of voice the man was using. It was beyond creepy and implied a wish for pain, suffering and worse.

"You can make her scream after I'm done with this experiment," the Headmaster replied dismissively. "But I want this done first. I'm not sure how much longer this one will make it and I want at least some data before I need to find another one. So, let's see which one of those two spells is stronger. Will you?"

"Of course, Headmaster," the potion's professor replied.

For a moment, there was silence, utter silence.

Then "Crucio!"

Ralston reached the door and looked inside the classroom.

On the floor was a girl.

Silver-blond hair.

A fair face and grey eyes.

Ralston had seen her before but never truly interacted with her.

She was a first-year, and a Slytherin one, that is.

With the slight rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin he would have been teased mercilessly by his dorm-mates if he had interacted with her - especially since she was a girl as well.

Nevertheless, he knew her from seeing her in the hallways.

Over the last two months her once so dreamy eyes had dulled and lost its dreamlike condition.

Until now, Ralston had never noticed that little fact.

But watching her from the hallway while she was trashing around, silently crying in agony made him notice her like he had never noticed someone ever before.

It also made him angry.

Very, very angry.

"Alright," the Headmaster finally said in that moment. "I think we can safely say that both spells are about the same strength. We can finish this experiment for today."

And with that he released his spell.

The potion's professor released his spell as well and the girl slumped onto the ground as if her strings were cut.

Neither of the two man looked at her.

"I'm going," the Headmaster said. "Finish up here and then leave her wherever. Just don't kill her tonight."

"Anything else I'm not allowed to do?" The potion's professor asked and Ralston shivered again. Whatever that monster had planned to do - it would only increase the little girl's suffering even more. And increasing her suffering was what the potion's professor wanted to do…

"No," the Headmaster replied uncaring. "As long as she lives, I don't care what you do."

With that he turned and strode towards the door.

Ralston hurriedly stepped aside, suddenly very glad that he was hidden beneath his invisibility cloak.

For a moment, Ralston wanted to attack the Headmaster, but then logic stayed his hands.

He had no chance to win against two grownup wizards with only a year of learning magic beneath his belt.

But there was something else he could do.

He could do what he should have done a week ago.

He would flee.

And he would do it tonight.

Somebody would listen to him - and if it was just Ralston's father.

Ralston would find a way to end the suffering of the children who were basically imprisoned into Hogwarts.

But first he had something else to do.

He had to end a suffering immediately tonight.

The moment Ralston was sure that the Headmaster was well and truly gone, he took a deep breath and then threw open the classroom door again.

It had been hard to way the minute he gave the Headmaster to leave. From the inside of the classroom, the desperate begging of a girl's voice was heard.

Still, Ralston forced himself to wait long enough for the Headmaster to be out of earshot before he entered by throwing open the door.

Ralston had not yet any spell in his arsenal that could take out another person permanently, but with his fury empowering his stunning spell, the potion's professor was nevertheless catapulted through the classroom and against the opposite wall as if Ralston had used a banishing charm instead.

The potion's professor hit the wall hard and slit down to the ground unmoving.

The tortured girl on the other hand stared at him dazed and confused.

She was obviously in no condition to act on her own, so Ralston grabbed her wrist, pulled her up to her feet and then forced her to follow him running down the hallway.

He felt his invisibility cloak dislodging while he rounded one of the corners in the castle, but before he could even think about grabbing it, a voice could be heard at the other end of the hallway.

"There they are! Get them!"

Ralston doubled his speed, his hand grabbing for the invisibility cloak, but missing it.

The cloak sailed to the floor and beneath one of the armours and Ralston had no time to pick it up again.

The Headmaster who obviously hadn't been away far enough to truly not hear Ralston rescuing the girl was behind them and shooting spells at them.

Ralston forced himself to double his speed, running away blindly while dragging a bewildered girl with him.

They rounded another corner and another - and suddenly there was nothing but stone at the end of the hallway they were in.

"Now we have you cornered," the Headmaster behind them crooned. "Let's see what kind of punishment I will be able to think up for you…"

Ralston shivered, and he shivered even more when he turned around and saw that the Headmaster wasn't alone.

There, next to the Headmaster was the potion's professor who was bleeding from a head wound.

Both adults smiled at them nastily.

The girl next to Ralston whimpered.

"Please, no," Ralston pleaded - not with the two adults but with fate. "Please, no! We can't stop here! Our flight can't end here already! Please!"

With that he pressed himself against the wall behind him, the girl still shielded by his body and now trapped between Ralston and the wall.

Ralston's empty hand touched the wall, his other pointed his wand at the two adults.

Those two smirked, one of them raising his own wand to disarm Ralston.

The next moment, Ralston and the girl fell backwards through the wall and into darkness.

The last thing Ralston saw before the wall closed in front of him was the shocked face of the teachers who had chased them.

"We need to get help," Ralston explained to Ekrizdis. "We need to get to London. We tried Hogsmeade already, but those people… they belong to the Headmaster and those who don't are far too afraid to do something."

"You want to get help," this time, the man sounded incredulous. "From adults?"

"Not all adults are bad," Ralston argued while wondering what the man in front of them had encountered when he was young that he thought all adults to be… 'guilty' .

Meanwhile, while Ralston was trying to figure out Ekrizdis, Ekrizdis was trying to figure out Ralston.

In Ekrizdis' eyes, Ralston was an odd boy.

Here was a child who had been betrayed by the adults who should have cared for him exactly like Ekrizdis - and yet, unlike Ekrizdis he was still willing to reach out to other adults for help.

"Meh… It's a pointless wish," Ekrizdis thought, feeling a bit sad for the naivety the child still displayed. "Adults - adult wizards, that is - are only good for one thing: food for my pets."

Regretfully, Ekrizdis couldn't call his pets down upon them anymore. The dementors were far too afraid of the monster child to step out of line.

But then, until tonight, Ekrizdis hadn't stepped out of line as well. His eyes went towards the dead man lying basically next to them.

"I think he might forgive me for that one," Ekrizdis thought. "He's all for saving people, after all…"

It was the thought of the monster child that brought another idea to Ekrizdis' mind - one that would be less fruitless than running to London to ask adult wizards to help.

Ekrizdis already knew how that endeavour would end: They would be left standing, as alone as before.

It had always been like that, after all.

Ekrizdis had learned his lesson after being thrown away by his wizarding, mortal mother and her family. They had cursed him, called him unnatural and a demon child. The only one who had never seen his unnaturalness was his older cousin - until the day she grew up and changed.

It was then that Ekrizdis had fled home in search for his father.

He had never found his father, but he had found his father's race. The dementors had taken him in and welcomed him as one of their own even if he was but half a dementor-child.

So Ekrizdis had gone and embraced his unnaturalness and had started to hunt with the other dementors for the souls of those they crossed. In his eyes, adults, especially adult wizards and witches weren't good for anything else.

Ekrizdis couldn't understand that the boy in front of him was still fighting this universal truth…

"We could do something less fruitless than running to London," he finally suggested. "We could write the monster child. I'm sure he will come if we tell him that something horrible is going on inside this school you came from."

Ekrizdis wasn't about to suggest that he could handle something from this magnitude alone. Well, maybe he could - but then the chances of having the monster child after his hide would be quite a bit higher than they were now… and frankly, Ekrizdis liked to live.

The boy just shook his head.

"My father or someone else will help us," he said with sureness in his voice. "We just have to get to London first."

There was no reasoning with the boy…

"Reminds me a bit of the monster child," Ekrizdis mused. "Wonder if they're related somehow…"

"Alright," he said aloud. "I help you to get to London."

Normally, Ekrizdis wasn't the most helpful of all people, but these were children, so Ekrizdis guessed that he could make an exception for once.

The boy looked at him in surprise.

"How do you plan to help us to London?" He asked.

Ekrizdis waved it off without saying anything and the boy's eyes narrowed.

"Apparation?" He asked a little bit fearfully. Ralston definitely wasn't fond of apparition. The last time his father had taken him side-along, Ralston had… decorated the very expensive carpet of the Slytherin family new. They had to throw it away afterwards. Some smells couldn't be gotten rid of with cleaning charms and the carpet had not been made to be washed…

"No," Ekrizdis replied before pulling out a thin chain from beneath his clothes. He searched the chain and then removed one of the little charms that adorned it.

This charm he offered Ralston and Móna.

"What -?"

"Put your finger on it. Make sure that you touch it," Ekrizdis replied and Ralston noticed warily the half-insane grin the older man spotted.

"What's this?" Ralston asked hesitatingly while reaching out and did what he was told.

"I call it a port-key," Ekrizdis said proudly. "I can teach you how to make one later if you're interested, little one. It's a good way to get away from adults before they hurt you. London. "

And with that they were off.

Whirling and twirling through the air, only kept together by the little charm and their fingers attached to it.

Then their wild ride ended and Ralston and Móna tumbled to the ground.

Móna blinked and looked around dreamily.

"What a splendid way to travel!" She exclaimed while standing up.

Ralston on the other hand groaned and hugged the ground.

"I'm never doing that ever again," he said muffled.

This was as bad as apparation.

Ekrizdis just snorted and returned the charm to his chain before hiding it away again.

"So," he said. "We're in London, as you wished, little one. Where do you want to go now?"

Ralston blinked and then forced himself to look up and actually search the street they were in for something known.

He had no trouble finding it.

They were within the entrance to Diagon Alley which had been shielded from non-magicals for a few years now.

"We're not far from home," Ralston finally said. "We should go there first."

The man nodded, but when Ralston finally stood, he spoke up again to say something Ralston hadn't expected.

"If it's near, I will stay here," the man looked around with a grimace, clearly unhappy that he was anywhere near adult wizards. "If they believe you, you can come back here and fetch me. If they don't come back and we find another way."

With this, the man grimaced again as if he couldn't fathom that he was even thinking about rescuing anybody. Ralston was sure that the man would have long since left them if the victims weren't children.

But then, Ralston had long since understood that the man he was dealing with wasn't one of the sanest people around. He guessed that he should be happy that the other man was helping at all.

"Alright," Ralston said and then dragged away Móna towards his parents' house.

It nearly felt like when they had fled the castle and he had been forced to drag her with him - just that this time around they weren't running but walking and Móna wasn't hesitating because she was dazed but because she feared to leave their protector behind.

Ralston grimaced at that thought.

Oh, how he wished he could have protected her earlier than he had!

Oh, how he wished he could have left her behind in the safety they found unexpectedly within the school itself!

When the shock of them falling through a wall had worn off, Ralston had forced himself to stand up and then pulled the girl he had saved to her feet.

The moment he moved, the narrow hallway they were in lit up in one direction.

Ralston frowned at that, but in the end shrugged and decided to follow the light - hopeful that it wouldn't lead him into another trap after springing him from the last.

It took another twenty steps until the girl next to Ralston finally spoke up.

"Where are we going?" She asked him fearfully and Ralston shrugged.

"Following the lights," he said. "Hopefully they will lead us somewhere…"

So they started walking.

About fifteen minutes later Ralston finally recognized what kind of narrow hallways they were following.

"The servant's stairs," he thought surprised. "I didn't even know that Hogwarts had any!"

But then, you obviously couldn't enter them that easily, so Ralston guessed that it was no wonder they had been forgotten.

"I wonder who hid them," he mused. This answer he gained another half an hour later.

At that time, they suddenly ended up at a door.

Ralston hesitated and first listened on the door to ensure that he couldn't hear anything behind it.

There was nothing to hear.

So Ralston opened the door slowly to take a look inside.

Behind the door was a huge chamber, lit in green light and adorned with snakes.

It also was empty.

Ralston opened the door and they slipped inside, the girl's eyes widened when she saw the chamber.

"The Chamber of Secrets!" She whispered in awe. "There's a legend in Slytherin that our Founder build a chamber inside the school to ensure that his children could find safety. I never thought that it was real!"

"It obviously is," Ralston said dryly.

The girl shot him an amused look while Ralston looked around.

"So this is built to keep the students safe?" He ensured and the girl nodded.

"Yes," she said. "It also has a tunnel to somewhere outside the wards if you believe legend."

Ralston nodded and looked around.

He needed that tunnel.

"Do you know where?" He asked her interested.

She shook her head.

"No," she said. "But it's password protected."

"Password?" Ralston asked with a little bit of dread in his voice.

She nodded.

"According to legend you have to say: Father, give me passage!"

The next moment there was a grinding sound of stone meeting stone and then a door opened at the base of one of the snake bodies.

"Huh," the girl said surprised. "Guess Daddy was right when he told me the legend of the Chamber."

Ralston on the other hand couldn't feel more thankful that the girl was with him.

"Thank you," he said before hurrying towards the exit. "I go and get help. You on the other hand stay here and keep your head down, alright?"

"I'd actually prefer to come with you," the girl replied in a dreamy but oddly enough at the same time steely voice.

Said voice stopped Ralston in his tracks.

He stopped, turned around, blinked in surprise and then stared at the young girl in Slytherin clothing who was now in front of him.

"What?" He asked confused.

"I said that I'd prefer to come with you, if you have me, Potter," she replied.

It was the first time that she actually acknowledge that she knew who he was.

Ralston could only stare at her.

She was tiny, blond haired and grey eyed - more like a fairy than an actual human of blood and flesh - and yet so determined to come with him.

There was an expression on her face that told him that she would follow if he left her behind - and that was something he couldn't risk if he didn't want her to be caught again.

So Ralston stared at her some more.

Then he opened his mouth and she frowned.

"Don't you dare to object just because I'm a girl," she said.

That stopped Ralston in his tracks for a moment or two. It actually wasn't the fact that she was a girl that disturbed him, but the fact that she was tiny, ethereal and looked like a doll and the knowledge that she had been tortured barely an hour ago.

"You're…" he finally started to say but was interrupted by the girl in front of him.

"Móna Lovegood," she said airily. "And I'm not willing to stay anywhere inside the castle any longer. I'm coming with you - if you want it or not."

He eyes, still full of pain, now also filled with determination fixated on him.

Ralston shuddered.

There was something supernatural in her eyes now that she actually stared him into the eyes.

In the end he could only do one thing: He gave in.

"Alright," he said. "But we will have to run long and far."

She nodded and together they left Hogwarts.

Barely another two hours later the Headmaster's cronies found their trail and the prowl was on.

Another half an hour later, Ralston nearly faltered when the Headmaster called out to him.

"Running away, my boy?" He had called after them. "That's not the Gryffindor thing to do, Ralston!"

And yet, Ralston would never regret that he decided to run away that day.

While the children were fruitlessly off begging adults to help them, Ekrizdis decided to do something useful with his time and wrote and sent a letter.

" My dearest opponent," it said.

" I came by some information that I thought you should know. Don't worry, I kept our treaty, neither I nor my companions set a foot on the Isles at all. We stumbled over this particular information near Rouen. I am also quite aware that you have no reason to trust me, but then I have no reason to write you as well. It doesn't actually concern me, after all.

Yet, there is one thing I truly abhor. I don't mind killing people, I actually enjoy it, if you remember - but I abhor the mistreatment of children.

There's something grave going on in that magical academy on the Isles. My informant spoke of 'the head doing things and using children for things that should never be done - let alone to children'.

I wouldn't have bothered if it had been an adult against another, but even I draw the line with children.

I urge you to take a look. I'm even willing to help you, just this once, monster child.

Sincerely

Ekrizdis of Azkaban ."

After he had written the letter, Ekrizdis looked it over again.

"Meh," he said. "That should do it. I'm sure that as long as he doesn't find me here, I'm safe from his wrath."

With that decision he decided to send the letter off like it was. It was after all never too careful if you decided to lie about your whereabouts to the man who was the magical lord of the Isles and who had basically banned your pets, even if he hadn't truly banned Ekrizdis…

"At least he will be willing to help," Ekrizdis thought while waiting for the children. "Unlike the wizarding adults he truly cares."

Then Ekrizdis frowned.

"But then," he thought to himself. "He's still a child, according to the dementors - and not human on top of it. I couldn't count him as an exception even if I wanted to!"

Ekrizdis was quite happy with that reasoning.

He didn't trust wizarding adults, after all…

When the letter reached one Salvazsahar Emrys, now known as Salvatio Malfoire, the man was currently in London.

He frowned at the owl who had delivered the letter.

He had been wandering for the last ten years. His daughter and wife were gone and he had drowned his grieve by taking up his wandering and helping out people.

When the letter reached him, he had just returned to London with the idea to integrate himself into London's society again.

But the letter changed everything.

Sal again frowned at the owl.

"You don't come from France," he accused it.

The owl hoot.

"You're far too well rested to come from France," he said.

The owl hoot again.

There was just one conclusion Sal could make from that.

Ekrizdis of Azkaban was in London.

"Rouen - as if he could deceive me with a few simple words," Sal murmured with a tired head-shake. He wasn't too put out that the man was in London.

Of course, if the man was there to kill people, then Sal would have something to say to him, but considering that no unexplained deaths had been happening, Sal doubted it.

The dementors, Sal knew, weren't on the Isles. Unlike Ekrizdis they were bound by the contract and Sal would have been notified that they entered the Isles.

"Guess it looks like I have to deal with 'clinically insane' again," Sal said frowning to himself.

Then he looked at the owl which was wheeling around him happily and not at all tired - which just confirmed to him that the other man had to be in London or else the owl would have been at least a bit tired.

"Alright," Sal said to himself. "Where did he get you from?"

Sal looked around, then he shrugged.

"Best guess is Diagon Alley," he settled on. It was the most important wizarding district around London - and one of the only places near here where you could rent owls.

Sal shrugged and decided to apparate to the other side of London to Diagon Alley. Sal was quite fond of apparating even if every time he did it he was remembered of Andromeda's insistence that apparating was a death trap.

It hurt still, but unlike with his brother's death, Sal was actually dealing with it.

Nevertheless, apparation was quite useful - not that Sal used it too often considering how fast the world changed in his eyes and his norm of not coming to a place too often within a century.

But since he had been in Diagon Alley reasonably close in his past, Sal guessed that he could take the risk of apparating into something and apparated.

The first thing he actually saw when he landed in Diagon Alley was the insane half-dementor Ekrizdis losing his footing thanks to a young girl barrelling into him crying.

The boy that followed after her not too far looked as unhappy as the girl but refrained himself from throwing himself in top of the two others lying on the streets.

Ekrizdis on the other hand looked for a moment as if he wanted to curse the girl before a resigned look crossed his features and he patted the girl's head instead.

"There, there," he said. "Meh… It's exactly like I told you: Adults won't listen to you."

"It's not that," the boy replied while kneeling down next to the still lying Lord of Azkaban and the girl. "It's more as if they're all unable to actually listen to us, you know? It's as if they're under the same influence of a potion that the other students of Hogwarts are under. And Father isn't home, so I can't talk to him."

The downed man frowned at the boy.

"You think that your father would be different?" He asked.

The boy shrugged.

"He's the Lord Potter," the boy replied and Sal's eyes widened. "As the descendant of the grim and the wearer of the head's ring he should be able to throw the potion of like I am as the heir."

Sal's eyes widened further at that second sentence.

He knew of only one family who was descended of a grim - and that was Peverell's. It was startling to hear that the Potter's were descendants of a grim as well.

"On the other hand, you knew that," Sal reprimanded himself. "You know your own heritage, after all…"

And yet he had never connected Peverell's heritage with his own - even if parts of it were identical.

Thunderbird and grim.

Peverell had been family.

This boy barely a few steps away was family - and not just because they shared a last name. No, the boy was family because he was a descendant of Peverell Grim.

"Hmm," Ekrizdis said in that moment. "Ah, yes. The Potters."

He crooked his head and looked at the boy thoughtfully.

"At least you won't grow up into an adult, little one," he said, sounding satisfied. "The Potters always managed to prevent that from happening as far as my pets told me. Something about having the ashes of the first grim's blood in their veins. What a shame that you can't use those gifts anymore. Having Death's son assisting us would be a blessing if we have to assault that castle of yours…"

Sal raised an eyebrow at that and decided that it was time to speak up.

"Before you plan to assault anything, could you please explain to me a thing or two?" He asked sternly while staring at the still downed man coolly.

Said man yelped, half-jumped into the air while still lying down before landing in another heap on the floor when the girl's weight on top of him acted like a sledgehammer.

"It was an accident!" The downed man exclaimed in the next moment and Sal raised an eyebrow.

The man blushed.

"Ah, well, not an accident," he corrected. "More like an act of self-defence or whatever!"

But it was the legilimency probe that Sal send out towards the other man that slipped through the man's mind's defences and told him what the man was actually talking about.

Sal pulled back immediately after he had received the information.

"I'm not here to punish you," Sal said with hidden amusement in his eyes. "You wrote a letter - I came."

The other man blinked at him blankly.

"But I send that letter barely half an hour ago," he said slowly. "And I tried to make sure that you thought me to be in Rouen…"

Sal just raised an eyebrow.

"That lie was quite hard to believe considering that the owl who gave me the letter was far too lively to have flown such a long time," he replied.

"Huh?" the other man looked at him blankly and Sal sighed.

"I was already in London," he elaborated and the man groaned.

"Why did you have to be in London," he whined. "I didn't want you to think I broke the contract! It's not as if I brought my pet or killed someone - well, I did, but it wasn't actually… well, it was deliberately, but I did it in defence of me and the children!"

Sal just looked on in amusement.

"You haven't grown up at all, have you?" He said while at the same time feeling relieve that the man in front of him - while still being quite hateful towards other adults if Sal interpreted the looks the man send them correctly - wasn't acting as unreasonably as he had when Sal had met him the last time.

Sal could work with insane - but never with deliberately evil.

"Tell me what that letter was about," he finally demanded of the spluttering man.

The children looked at him warily.

Ekrizdis on the other hand set up and rearranged the girl inside his lap.

"Er… monster child, these are my… informants," he introduced the different parties awkwardly. "Little ones, this is the monster child I talked about."

The children looked at Sal with unsureness clear in their eyes.

Sal sighed.

Then he wrote a quick rune sequence into the air and activated it to keep their conversation quiet to the other people who walked through Diagon Alley. Immediately the onlookers who had stopped when the girl had barrelled down Ekrizdis started to continue with their shopping.

Sal loved the modified confundus he weaved into his rune sequence.

After ensuring that their conversation was private, he spoke up.

"I am Salvazsahar Pendragon," he said, using the same name he had used back then to introduce himself to Ekrizdis. "Ekrizdis and I… normally don't see eye to eye - but I guess I will have to make an exception to that for now."

The boy started when he heard Sal's name.

"Pendragon?" He asked, surprise and hope waring in his voice. "As in King Arthur Pendragon?"

Sal grimaced but nodded.

"Pendragon," he agreed. "As in Prince Salvazsahar Pendragon, heir to King Arthur."

The boy just stared at him after his confirmation.

"I… didn't think that Britain still had a royal line," the boy finally settled on.

"Oh, I knew that we had," the girl spoke up airily and suddenly a lot less nervously. "Daddy spoke about them. He said that our Prince is simply giving us a chance to live our lives without his interference. If we muck it up too much he will come back and take control again."

Sal winced a bit at that.

He had no, absolute no wish to take up the crown!

"Something like that," he agreed. "That's why I normally don't use Pendragon as a last name."

The girl nodded gravely.

"Then I call you Basiliskson," she said airily. "Salvazsahar Basiliskson, I'm Móna Lovegood."

Sal blinked for a second when the girl called him 'Basiliskson' but in the end decided to just let it go. He had no intention to connect his old name 'Malfoire' to Pendragon and he actually didn't want to go through the whole trouble with explaining himself as 'Emrys' again…

"Well met, Miss Móna," he said instead and she smiled. Then he looked at the boy next to her. The boy had brown eyes, and the typical black Potter hair. Sal was sure that even without him knowing that the boy was related to Peverell, Sal would have seen it. The boy's nose and chin definitely just cried 'Peverell' to Sal.

"I'm Ralston Potter, my Prince," the boy said stiffly and a bit nervously.

Sal waved the title off.

"Master Sal or something akin to that is truly enough formality," he told the boy. "Like I said: I normally don't tell people my family name."

The boy smiled hesitatingly at him.

"I guess you have a good reason for that," he acknowledged.

Sal snorted amused before his face turned serious.

"And now, please tell me what's going on in Hogwarts," he said, his serious eyes fixing on the children.

Ralston looked at Móna.

Móna looked at Ralston.

"You won't believe us," Ralston said bitterly. "The other adults didn't believe us as well. They're all acting as if they were under a potion."

The image the boy projected was so strong that Sal even if he wouldn't have wanted to see it, would have seen it anyway.

From what he saw through the boy's eyes, the boy was right.

But Sal doubted that it was a potion.

In his eyes it looked like a modified version of an Imperius curse - and wasn't that a dark thought considering that the Unforgivables hadn't been part of the wizarding world until now?

He also didn't think that the curse was on the adults, but on the children to keep them from telling anybody.

Sal could basically watch through the boy's eyes that every time the boy brought up the school and the students treatment some kind of haze lowered itself over the other person's eyes.

It was an ingenious curse - and Sal would make sure that this was the last time this particular curse would be seen ever again. He knew that he would already fail with the Unforgivables - not that he wouldn't try - but he would make sure that at least this curse would be erased from the history books…

"I will believe you," Sal said instead and looked at the boy steadily. "Just tell me what's going on inside the castle and I will try and help you."

The boy looked at him sceptically, but spoke up anyway.

The moment he brought up the school, something seemed to reach out to Sal's mind - just to shatter before even reaching his Occlumency barriers. Whatever curse it was, it wasn't constructed to work on the mind of a Firbolg-born like Sal and Ekrizdis.

When the boy was done, Sal was angry.

Very, very angry.

Sal couldn't even remember when he had been that angry the last time. Maybe never.

That man - the man who called himself 'Hogwarts' Headmaster' dared to practice the Unforgivables on children! He dared to experiment with the Unforgivables on children!

Worse, that man dared to experiment with the Unforgiveable on Sal's children.

Children that grew up in Sal's home.

Children that were Sal's to protect - as a teacher, as a prince, as the lord of the castle.

It was his responsibility, bound by his oaths as he was - as a ruler, as a guardian, as a healer.

Oh, Sal had fought before. But normally he fought with desperation, normally he tried to protect. This time on the other hand he had to attack to even be able to protect - something Sal had never done before.

But then, he had never been as angry as he was now before as well.

Even the letter hadn't made Sal as angry as those innocent words from Ralston and Móna did.

That was the moment Sal understood that he would do everything to eradicate that man from history. When Sal was done, Hogwarts would bear no remembrance of said man.

Sal would make sure of that.

Sal was surprised when his gaze met Ekrizdis at the end of the report Ralston and Móna had given.

"Will you let me help you?" The other man asked him earnestly.

Sal returned his gaze with the same seriousness as Ekrizdis' face showed.

"I will allow it," he said. "Just this once."

Ralston's eyes widened at that.

"You believe us?" He exclaimed surprised and happy.

Sal's gaze wandered to the boy.

"I do," he said. "And I will countervail his actions."

Ekrizdis answered that exclamation with a smirk.

The boy on the other hand looked at Sal with determination in his eyes.

"I want to help," he said and Sal knew that the boy wouldn't accept a 'no'.

Seemed like stubbornness might be a Potter gene…

"I want, too," Móna spoke up at that.

Sal sighed and closed his eyes.

"I could send for some of my pets," Ekrizdis suggested. "The little ones could look after them and ensure that other little ones aren't harmed by them."

Sal looked at the other man incredulously.

Sal had been right.

Ekrizdis was insane…

"You want children to command the dementors," he said blankly.

The Lord of Azkaban shrugged.

"The boy has the ashes of the grim in his veins," he said. "He's an Olde one - and the one who isn't bound by the immortals' rules. I'm sure that he can control them. And the girl? Meh, she's weird enough that she'll get along with them splendidly."

Sal wondered if insanity was infectious, because he actually started to truly think about the offer.

In the end he sighed and inclined his head.

"I allow one exception from them as well," he said slowly. "If they do this, I will give them one boon - one time I will close my eyes and look away when they enter the Isles. One time when I won't kill them but only force them to leave after this time. If they come again afterwards, I will go through with my threat and destroy them all without mercy."

Ekrizdis nodded.

"I will ensure that they won't kill any of the little ones and I will make sure that they know to obey those two little ones orders," he told Sal.

Sal closed his eyes and slowly nodded.

He couldn't believe that he was about to enter a pact with an insane man so that two children could go to war and were safe at the same time.

But then, Sal also couldn't believe that he was about to assault Hogwarts.

"Do that," Sal said, knowing that if he didn't give the children the possibility to work with them, they would do everything in their power to come anyway - and that might just end with the children being hurt or worse, dead.

So he turned to the children to look at them seriously.

"If you are the ones to command the dementors, I don't want you to take an eye off of them. You are responsible about who they will and won't attack - that's not something you can take lightly, do you understand?"

Ralston and Móna looked at each other.

Then both nodded.

"We will ensure that only those who are guilty are attacked," Móna said dreamily. "Everybody else whose loyalty is in question or who is innocent we will make sure is either just apprehended or not harmed at all."

At that Ekrizdis pouted.

"It's not as if the adults aren't guilty anyway," he said slowly.

Sal stared at the man.

"We will do it as the children said or not at all," he replied. "If you want to do it differently, I will stop you and do it alone."

It was mostly an empty thread - at least until Ekrizdis reached Hogwarts. Thanks to all the time Sal had lived there and all the magic he had cast there Hogwarts was one of the few places all over Britain where Sal could act like he had more power than an above average witch or wizard.

Adding to that that Sal was the master of the wards… well, it might be a better idea to challenge a dragon in their nest than Sal at Hogwarts.

Regretfully, that was exactly what the current Headmaster had done…

"Go and get your dementors," Sal finally instructed Ekrizdis. "The rest of us will meet you tomorrow at the gates of Hogwarts."

It was late autumn in 1534, when Sal reached the outerskirts of Hogwarts' surrounding grounds.

Now, he was standing in front of the front gates of Hogwarts, contemplating his past. It had been years since he had been last seen the castle in front of him - and yet, throughout all his life, all those centuries, millennia he had lived, he had always returned to it. It was his home - and it felt definitely odd that he was now thinking about breaking and entering into it…

"But needs must," Sal thought darkly, his eyes searching out the one tower that once had belonged to Peverell. "Needs must…"

Nevertheless, it was odd to Sal that after all these years working at Hogwarts, after all these years learning and living at Hogwarts, after all these years defending Hogwarts, he had now come to conquer it.

"A healer on warpath," Sal thought amused. "That's not what you'll see every day."

And yet, here he was, ready for battle…

He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile.

"But then," he thought. "Sometimes it needs to be a healer who goes to war. Sometimes, only a healer will be the one to do the right thing, not the easy."

And today was a day like that.

Sal squared his shoulders.

"Ready?" The man next to him asked.

Sal took a deep breath.

"Ready," he affirmed.

His hands touched the black iron of the gates of Hogwarts.

"Hello, atr," he greeted Hogwarts. "I've come to take your master down."

And the old, black iron gates slowly opened.

Once again, Sal took a deep breath, then he stepped forward and entered the grounds.

The moment he crossed the wards, they settled heavily on his shoulders.

A wind caressed his cheek, welcoming him home after the decades he had been away.

Sal smiled, but his smile was more the goblin expression of baring your teeth in challenge than an actual smile.

Then an alert went through the wards and told the Headmaster that somebody had entered the sanctuary.

Behind Sal the children and Ekrizdis stood silently.

Sal's smile broadened and then he started his way up to the doors of the castle.

The others and the ten dementors they had with them followed him silently like guards.

Not even ten minutes later they were intercepted by the Headmaster, the Deputy and the potion's professor.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" demanded the Headmaster.

Sal looked at him, his face still adorned by an insincere smile.

"I am Salvazsahar," he said. "And I came to take you down."

For a moment, the Headmaster actually gawked at him - then the man burst out laughing.

"You?" He asked amused. "I can feel your magic, moron! You don't even have enough magic to be considered at an adult's level and yet you want to take me, one of the most powerful men on the Isles, down?"

Sal bared his teeth further.

"It doesn't matter," he said and fury laced his voice. "It's what you can do with your magic that counts - not how much magic you actually have."

"How about you face me first, weakling, and then try your hand on the Headmaster - if you're still standing after that, that is!" The potion's professor scoffed and stepped forward.

It was the Lord of Azkaban who bared him his way.

"How about you play with me, my sweet," Ekrizdris crooned. "I'm sure we will have a lot of fun!"

The potion's professor sneered.

"And who are you?" He asked with contempt.

"Ekrizdis of Azkaban," Ekrizdis replied.

"Never heard of Azkaban," the potion's professor replied.

Ekrizdis smiled.

"Oh, good," he said. "The more fun for me!"

And with that he raised his arms and suddenly unnatural fog started to creep up from the earth.

The Deputy and the Headmaster turned their wands on Ekrizdis, but Sal intercepted the Headmaster's spell with a ward while the Deputy fell to the dementors commanded by the children.

"We're going inside!" Ralston declared with a determined expression.

Móna next to him nodded and together with the ten dementors they left - unhindered by the spells of the Headmaster and potion's professor that splashed against Sal's wards.

The Headmaster turned to Sal at that, his expression furious.

"I will kill you - and then I will kill those brats!" He raged.

"Try," Sal countered icily while weaving one ward after another with his left hand. In here, inside the wards build by his blood and sacrifice it was quite easy for him to weave other, new wards. The ground was basically drowning in Sal's magic already, so connecting wards through the ground, weaving rune chains was basically child's play.

It didn't need a lot of magic.

Then the Headmaster shot his first spells at Sal.

Sal ducked and drew one of his daggers.

The Headmaster laughed.

"You don't even have the power to use true spells!" He scoffed. "You're weak! Absolutely weak!"

The next thing he had to do was to duck when he saw a shadow jumping at him out of the corner of his eye.

But when he looked where he had seen the shadow, there was nothing there.

Sal smiled grimly before sending another illusion towards the Headmaster.

Again the man ducked and Sal used his distraction to come at him with his dagger.

The man managed to avoid being hit by Sal's weapon and started to shoot spells at Sal again. It was Sal's turn to duck away from the spells, all the while still weaving runs with his left hand.

Then Ekrizdis next to him was hit by a curse of the potion's master.

The half-dementor stumbled, growled and pounced at the potion's professor.

The Headmaster shot a spell at Ekrizdis to stop him, but the spell splashed again against an invisible barrier.

The Headmaster growled.

Sal used his distraction to come at the Headmaster with his dagger again.

When the Headmaster stumbled back and away from the weapon, Sal's smile turned feral.

The next moment Sal twisted his left hand and a single, golden glowing rune left his fingers.

The rune flew onto the ground in front of the Headmaster.

The Headmaster laughed.

"That's it?" He chortled. "One mangled rune - the only magic you can manage?"

Sal couldn't fault the Headmaster's logic. The man was far stronger magically than Sal ever was, considering that he was basically stuck with his fifteen-year-old body's magic. But Sal had learned one thing in his long, long life: He didn't need a lot of power. He had more than enough - and what he didn't have, he could make up by his incomparable control over every drop of magic he had in his body.

Sal wasn't weak - but even if he had been, his control would have made up for it more than enough. Wandless creating illusions was tiring, but manipulating wards that were already his?

Child's play.

The lightning bolt which looked like golden, electrified light came down from the wards surrounding Hogwarts and hit the Headmaster by surprise. Not that the Headmaster had time to actually feel the surprise.

One minute he was laughing at Sal, the next he was lying motionless on the ground, killed by the interacting wards he had been meticulously withdrawn from by Sal. The moment he was removed from the wards far enough - meaning he had basically lost his position as Headmaster to Sal and was seen as a hostile intruder - the wards had come down upon him and had killed him.

The potion's professor was so distracted by his employer's sudden death that he didn't even notice Ekrizdis ripping out his throat with his teeth until it was too late.

Sal just stared at the two dead bodies in front of him for a moment or two.

"Let's go and help the children," he finally said and walked away from the battle towards the doors of the castle.

Ekrizdis also looked at the dead bodies, wiped his mouth to remove the blood and then he laughed.

"Oh, monster child!" He crooned. "Now I know why my pets fear you! You are truly scary when you're angry!"

When people of later times asked what happened in the year 1534 they would get a lot of different answers.

"The Act of Supremacy," they would say, "the beginning of the Church of England."

"Luther," they would say, "His complete Bible was published in Germany in 1534."

"France starts to prosecute the Protestants," they would say. "And Pabst Paul III started his time as the head of the Catholic Church."

Maybe other things would be named as well, but if you asked a wizard or a witch, their answer would be simple.

"Nothing," they'd say. "Nothing important happened in 1534."

Over time, the whole wizarding community would forget the Assault of Hogwarts in 1534. Ralston Potter, Móna Potter née Lovegood and Salvazsahar Basiliskson, Headmaster of Hogwarts for the next few decades until one Antiona Creaseworthy would take up the mantle, would make sure of that.

Ekrizdis of Azkaban on the other hand would vanish back into Azkaban where he would die sometime in the future. Only after his death the wizards of Britain would find out about the Island of Azkaban - and it would take even longer until they would turn it into a prison to the happiness of the dementors.

But until then, Hogwarts would return to being a safe place of learning for little witches and wizards.

"Look out! Dung bomb!"

"Harold Ralston Potter! What were you thinking throwing a dung bomb through the girl's wash-room's window?!"

Well, as safe as it could be with Potters in attendance…