The Makings of Hogwarts

Chapter 1 --- The Boy and the King

A young man sat staring at the fire across from where he was sitting behind his oak table. An opened letter lay in front of him, whose contents he was pondering. The flames were strangely hypnotic. His mind wandered to a time not so long ago to events that changed the course of his life...

Sixteen years ago in a home very much different from the present, his mother was sobbing. He had just turned fifteen and now only a month after his father's death from the plague, he was off to war. He tried to comfort his aging mother but to no avail, she could not understand.

"Mother, one cannot refuse the orders of one's overlord, especially one as ruthless as Duke William."

"But you are too young to go, you will be killed! I could not bear to loose you as I did your father."

"Too young! Ach! The Duke was but a few years older than I when he went to war against his cousin to claim Normandy. If I do not go, my life will be forfeited, and I would definitely be lost to you."

"You are not a knight, you are not compelled to go."

"True, but as we both know I am not made for farming or trade as Father knew well. He was fortunate enough to have gotten Monseigneur to agree to train me. I would not I go back on my promise to him and be dishonored."

"I am much grieved my son, but you have my blessing. When will you return?"

"As soon as I may. King Harold is a formidable foe, he will not give in to William easily," he opened the door, looked out at the setting sun and turned to face his mother again, "I must go, October fast approaches and the Duke wishes to engage Godwinson as soon as may be. Farewell Mother and take care."

He embraced the sobbing woman and left the small but comfortable house. Once mounted on his horse he set off to camp at a gallop.

As luck would have it Monseigneur was one of William's favorite drinking companions and as such he and the knights and squires under him were permitted to share the same vessel as the Duke.

The young lad did not engage much with his fellows nor was he bothered because of his impressive height of six feet. His face had that pinched look of someone who had grown a lot very quickly and would soon prove to be very handsome. His hair was a very dark brown coming down to his shoulders and his eyes, while being the same color flashed fire. He sat on deck clutching his two most prized possessions: the broad sword his father bought him two years ago made of Spanish steel and the wand his mother gave him, when he was eleven- oak, 12 inches, containing three phoenix tail feathers. As a wizard his parents taught him rudimentary skills and spells. As a squire he was far more impressive since he was strong and fearless. He prayed he was up to the task and that he wouldn't disgrace himself because his company would be under the direct command of William himself.

On the twenty-eighth of September the entire army had landed on the English shore and began to pillage the coast emboldened by Harold's absence. It was more than a fortnight later when Harold and his battle-wearied army came forth to meet William at Senlac Hill. The adolescent found himself that day as part of the Duke's personal guard. He could see Duke William's fair head not far from him. The armies charged and William was soon in the thick of it.

The youth felt honor bound to stay near his lord if he should need defending. He soon found himself fighting two Saxons. He managed to kill one of them with a forceful stab in the stomach but found his sword was stuck in the Saxon's gut and the other had no qualm about striking a defenseless boy. Abandoning his sword for the moment he reached for his wand and uttered a well-chosen spell, which was then followed by a green flash and his opponent was dead in the dirt as if struck by God. Quickly he gave a mighty tug at his sword, freeing it and stabbed his fallen foe to give the impression that death was not what Muggles called 'unnatural'. The battle continued.

It was not till sometime later after many had fallen on both sides and the ground was soaked with their blood that the much-bloodied fifteen-year old noticed his lord was in trouble. William was engaged with Harold and one of his brothers having just slain his other brother. But the Duke was holding his side and his face clearly showed exhaustion and pain. Without a moment's thought the young lad ran to William' side dodging axes and blades whilst jumping over bodies both living and dead striking the odd Saxon who got in the way. The Duke had just fallen to his knees after striking down his nemesis, but was quite unable to take on the other man. The boy lunged and his sword saved William's head from what would have been a fatal blow. He quickly dispatched the last of the Saxon princes with a swift swing cleaving the head cleanly and helped William to his feet to get him out of the battle.

With the fall of their king the opposing army fled pursued by William's forces. The Conqueror, as William was now being hailed as by men who realized what happened, was carried away by noblemen who had not fallen to his tent with boy tagging along carrying William' sword, which had fallen from the man's weakened grasp.

The bloodied young soldier lingered outside the tent with the Conqueror' wondering what he should do. Then one of the nobles appeared from the tent and summoned him to the Duke.

Once inside he saw William sitting on a makeshift cot, his armor discarded on the floor and his white linen shirt soaked with blood. He was grasping his side in an effort to staunch the bleeding. Three other nobles were there, kneeling in front of him. The young squire froze with his eyes fixed on the Duke. A mocking voice behind him said, "When entering the presence of one's betters, one shows the respect due to them. Kneel before the King, boy!"

With a look behind the boy saw the fourth man on one knee and quickly looked back at the great figure on the bed and dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Sire."

The wounded man looked at the youth and a faint smile appeared. He turned to the others, "What in God's balls are you bastards waiting for? Go and find me a healer before I bloody well bleed to death, you morons!"

Everyone jumped and ran out the tent. "Stay here boy."

The young lad turned around hastily. The smile was there once more but was quickly changed to a grimace of pain. "All this fighting will be for nothing if I die now. Dammit!"

William laid down on the cot grasping his side. He looked at the youth through half hooded eyes, "I see you had the wit about you to hold on and bring my sword to me. Good, very good. Just place it near me. A shame though that Harold' sword shattered, I would have liked to have kept it as a reminder that no one dares cheat me out of what's mine."

The boy did as he was told. He approached the bleeding man and could not help taking a glance at the wound. "My lord," the man's eyes turned to him, "I know something of healing. I may be able to help."

With a hard look, the Duke nodded. "The sooner I get stitched up the better. Those damned fools probably won't get back till it's too late with a healer. By God, I could use some wine to numb the bloody pain!"

The lad moved the bloodied shirt to have a closer look at the wound. Blood was still oozing out of the wound and most of it was caked on the shirt and around the wound. He would have to act quickly if he wanted to save the man's life. It looked simple enough, he could patch it up in no time, but it would still hurt unless...

"You know boy I think we only won because Harold just came from another battle against the Vikings. Ha! I loved kicking them when they're down," the boy prodded the wound gently, "Merde! Watch it, boy!"

After careful examination the boy said, "I beg your pardon, my lord. I can fix you up, but I would ask that you not be alarmed by what I am about to do, sir."

William chuckled, "I've spent the greater deal of my life fighting. I've seen dirty tactics nothing alarms me..." William glanced up at the lad and his eyes opened wide in shock, "Holy Mother of God! Sweet Jesus! What the hell are you boy?"

The teenager had taken out his wand and was muttering one of the healing spells his mother had taught him. He looked up and saw the fear mingled with the surprised expression on the Duke's face. "Be not alarmed, sire, I'm only using a healing charm."

"You're a bloody witch!" William tried to reach his sword, but his side was still in too much pain to allow that and he fell back on his bed groaning.

"I am a wizard sire, not a witch. Witches are female," the boy said calmly looking William in the eye.

"What, you mean like Merlin? King Arthur's wizard?"

"Aye. We're not all that bad. I mean witches and wizards, not all of us are like Morgana le Fay"

The Duke looked at the boy in wonder. "You know I take it back I am alarmed."

The boy grinned and then turned serious, "My lord, my skills at healing are rudimentary at best, I've managed to stop the bleeding and I could patch up the wound rightly, but I know someone else who could completely heal you in no time at all. If you would let me summon him..."

The older man looked at the boy and gave a wry smile, "Sure, why not? The faster I'm back on my feet the better. You seem to want to genuinely help me, which in itself is rather rare."

The lad stood up and went to the center of the tent and closing his eyes he spoke in a loud and clear voice he said, "Fawkes, my friend, I need you."

The wounded man lay dumbstruck as he saw the air near the teenager erupt in flames and a bird emerged. It was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Its plumage was fiery red and gold with impressive tail feathers that looked like living flames. The bird landed neatly on the boy's outstretched arm and looked at him then the boy. "My lord Duke this is my friend Fawkes. Fawkes is a phoenix bird, a magical bird. His tears have the ability to heal."

"A phoenix bird? Damn boy! There is surely more about you than meets the eye."

The bird flew to injured man and lay against his chest. Large, pearly white tears came from his eyes and fell onto the wound. The laceration and redness about the wound slowly began to disappear, leaving the warrior whole and strong again. William couldn't believe it. "Good God, a miracle! It would have taken the better part of next year for that wound to heal. Where can I find such a bird?"

"The phoenix is very rare, sir. Rarer still is to purchase one. I was very, very fortunate to have stumbled upon Fawkes when he was just born. I'm not sure what happened to his mother, but it must have been terrible for her to abandon her egg. I raised him and we have developed a very special friendship. He is loyal to me and I to him."

"Amazing. You astound me, boy. And you're bloody faster than the usual fools who work for me. I believe God has sent you and I'm damned grateful, but you'd better send that bird away before those fools walk in and ask for your head. Here, quick help me get another shirt and my armor back on. We'll give those morons the scare of their lives."

Fawkes having understood what was said vanished in a flash of fire and the lad found a shirt picked up the chain mail and helped the Duke back into it. Just then the nobles came back along with another, presumably the healer. "You're late! Where were you lot? Back in Normandy? Bloody fools! I'm fine thanks to the boy here. Rally the troops; we're going to Westminster. Give the boy a horse he's to ride with me. Send someone ahead to inform the archbishop of York to make ready for the Conqueror's arrival. Also send word to my wife that all is well and that I shall grace her bed sometime in the new year. In the meantime find me a woman to bed now! Preferably one of Harold's daughters! Ha! Oh yes, find one for the boy too while you're at it."

The men hurried away to obey the Duke's commands. The teenager blushed and begged the Duke not to trouble anybody on his behalf. The man looked at the boy as if he were insane.

The next morning the army set off on a two-month march sacking, pillaging and burning many a town including Dover and London before they reached Westminster. The boy told the Duke quite a lot about the wizarding world and William showed him a few more knightly tricks with a blade and horse. At Westminster William was crowned in the abbey on December twenty-fifth by the archbishop of York and all assembled hailed William, duke of Normandy and conqueror, king of all England.

After the ceremony the king drew the boy aside before he went to bed and spoke, "I know you want to be on your way home to Normandy, so do I! England is merely a source of income, but I shall still be here quite sometime conquering those rebels who believe that Edgar the Atheling is the rightful king," the King rolled his eyes, "I'm sending a messenger to Matilda, you can accompany him. At some point during the voyage be sure to give him your name, which I still do not know nor have the time at the moment to ask and where you live so if I should need you I can call upon you. Good, now off with you!" and the King stormed off to his bedchamber.

Exuberant at being allowed to go home and see his mother, the teenager ran to the stables and met up with the messenger and the two of them set off to the Channel. After a fortnight of uneventful travel he reached Rouen where his father's farm was located on the outskirts. He urged his horse up to the house wondering why his mother had not rushed out to greet him. He knocked at the door, and expecting to his mother' surprised face he was greeted by the scowling cattle herder's wife. "What are you doing in my house, madam?"

"Huh! Your house! Why, haven't you heard boy? Your mother's dead and since you wasn't here to tend matters you've lost this house. It now belongs to my husband, it does."

"You lie, she can't be dead."

"Aye, she is. If you don't believe me go and talk to the priest he gave her last rites."

She slammed the door and the lad leaped onto his horse and urged his charger to the church. He searched frantically for Father Jean. Once he finally found the priest, who told him that his mother had died from sickness and grief and was buried in the churchyard. The boy thanked the man for his kindness and walked to the grave. He picked a couple of flowers that grew nearby and laid them gently on the grave. He knelt before the tombstone hand over heart and gave way to tears as he prayed for her immortal soul.

For the next few months he did odd jobs in town. One night as what had became custom, he was in the local tavern eating and drinking weak beer when he noticed someone familiar had walked into the place. It was Henri, one of the Duke's heralds. The lad hailed him and bought him a drink. "How are things in England?"

"Last I heard there are countless rebellions happening."

"Last you heard? What do you mean? Where have you been? Why does William do nothing about it?"

"Ah, well the King left England in February. He's been in Normandy since with Matilda. He plans to conquer England in earnest later in the year."

"I did not know."

"Apparently. Now young one I've been looking for you but the house I went to was occupied by someone else."

"Yes, my mother died and the landlord reclaimed and gave my house and farm to another tenant," he looked down at his beer and then quickly looked up at Henri, "What do you want with me?"

"I'm sorry to hear of your mother," he said with not much conviction, "I have a message from the King. He wants you to join him at court but as most of us know you must be educated so that the nobles will not ridicule you. Therefore, the King has ordered me to take you to Caen and place you under the tutelage of Father Pierre. We're to leave as soon as you can."

"We can go now. But you are serious, right? Why would William take an interest in me?"

"Well, he did say you saved his life twice and you remind him of his favorite son William Rufus. Let's go."

The two set off with their horses to Caen at lightning speed.

At Caen introductions were made and Henri left. The teenager set up a new routine. He was being taught to read and write French properly. Also he was learning Latin and studying classics. He also managed to find someone to teach him the language of the Anglo-Saxons. He pursued everything with enthusiasm and interest. He even managed to locate a few people from the wizarding world living nearby and persuaded them to teach him what they knew in exchange for the odd job he could do for them. After learning of his mother's death he just lived from day to day not really interested in anything until now. He relished learning and absorbed everything he could. He was quick at grasping languages and concepts that he amazed his teacher.

Later in that year he was joined by William' son William, who was ten. The two of them became friends and the older boy taught the younger one how to handle weapons and horses while the younger one told him about court life, who's who and the latest court intrigues.

Three years later when the lad came of age, he had grown a lot and there was nothing left of the gangly youth he had been. He was now a well-proportioned, well-toned man, who was extremely handsome. So physically desirable that many of the local girls made up silly excuses just to be near him. A few bolder one had tried to seduce him, but he was still shy when it came to the opposite sex. Many of them began to think of him as a Sir Galahad except he did not have the religious fervor. Others thought he preferred his own sex. Physical appearance was not the only thing that dramatically changed, his intellect had also greatly improved; he could read, write and speak just as well as the good Father, he knew the basics of Latin and knew very well the works of ancient Greece and Rome. He had also mastered the basics of magic, but his knowledge in that field was still limited.

It was at this time when the King summoned him to court. The young man set off for England.

When he reached England he could still see the scars left by the battles William led and rebellions he squashed. Quite a lot had happened while he was away. William had managed to calm things down enough so that his wife, Matilda could come over and be crowned Queen. He knew this because William, the younger had gone over to witness the ceremony. He arrived at Selby where the King was holding court. The castle was in good spirits because it William's youngest son's first birthday. Although Queen Matilda had gone back to Normandy, William insisted on keeping the baby awhile with a wet nurse.

The young man found his King in the feasting hall on the verge of becoming very drunk with other noblemen. William noticed him entering and greeted him heartedly. "Well, boy you made it. I can see though you're no longer a boy. Damn, you must at six feet at least!"

"Six and half, sire."

"God's balls! Well, have some wine and get drunk today is a feasting day and later we'll find some big-breasted wench to satisfy you. Tomorrow I'll deal with matters of state to which I've summon you."

The feast lasted well into the night and later when the fires were burning out the squire settled down in the hall to sleep, politely refusing the whore one of the King's men had offered him.

The next morning the assembly reconvened and King William started by appointing certain nobles to key positions and lands in his territory. The process went on for quite some time. The young man waited patiently for the King to address him. That moment came soon enough.

William's gaze went now to the wizard. "Well, boy you must wonder why I've called you here. Father Pierre has kept informed of your progress as well as my son's and I'm impressed. Well," he chuckled, "not really, it's all very good, but you've got the education required so that you can serve your King good and proper. Now, kneel!"

Dumbstruck the youth knelt, and the King reached for his sword. "Do you swear loyalty to me as your King?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Hmm. Then as the sovereign king of England I shall make thee Earl of Kent."

The teenager looked up. "I could not except, I have not done anything worthy of such a reward."

"What? You call saving your King's life twice not worthy? Surely that's worth an earldom?"

"I suppose, but all I've ever wanted is to become a knight, sire. And I was honor-bound to serve and protect your person, as I am still bound to do my lord."

The King looked thoughtful and speaking half to himself, "A knight, eh? Well, I suppose that could work..." He looked up and spoke in a booming voice. "Young squire I hereby make thee heh, heh a lord and grant you abundant lands near the Scottish boarder so that you and other nobles in your location may guard and defend my kingdom from Malcolm and those blasted Scots. Rise now, and God be with thee Lord Godric Gryffindor."