Harry Potter & The Knights Of Merlin's Keep

Darrin Killroy was no fool. He knew quite well that if he had driven to Privet Drive in the middle of the night on his motorcycle, no matter how good the silencing charm, he would be noticed.

So instead, he walked. His clothes were also styled to look rather mundane. A business suit underneath a tan trench coat. He hated tan, but he was supposed to be as inconspicuous as possible for this assignment.

Through Bill, Professor Dumbledore had asked him to investigate the remains of the Dursley household to see if there was anything they could discern from it. The ministry had already done a cursory investigation to see if magic was involved, as is always the case for Wizards who live in the Muggle world, but they found none.

Dumbledore was not convinced. Thus Darrin was out walking several miles to Privet Drive.

It was quite late when he got there, and all the houses on the street were completely dark. Darrin stepped into a dark shadow, emerging with all his clothing changed to his more preferred color of black.

He clung to the shadows with practiced ease as he made his way to the burnt husk that was Number 4, Privet Drive. Darrin knew that there had been wards to monitor magic use, but they would have been removed once it was determined there was no longer a need. Sad as it was to say, Having the house burn down and the Muggles killed. There really wasn't a reason to keep them up.

This made things easier for Darrin as he cast a powerful silencing charm around the lot. As careful as Darrin was, even he couldn't prevent making noise when rummaging through a burnt down house. But he could limit the distance the sound travelled.

Satisfied that nothing short of a nuclear explosion could be heard outside of his charm, he began his search. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, only that he'd know it when he found it. If he found it.

Recalling everything that had been passed along by Bill, the fire was to have started inside the cupboard that they had found Harry in. Darrin marvelled at how the universe had a deep sense of poetic if not ironic justice. Of course, Darrin never said that to Bill.

It had taken Darrin a good hour to convince Bill that he had nothing to do with the fire. Angry though he was at Dursley, one thing Darrin prided himself on was that he was not a cold-blooded murderer. Oh he could kill if he needed to, namely if his life were in immediate danger, and he even admitted that to Bill, but thankfully he never had a need.

But pre-meditated murder was beyond him. And though he privately thought the Dursleys deserved it, he could never be a part of it. At least not intentionally.

Bill eventually believed him.

Darrin put that thought out of his mind as he managed to open what was left of the cupboard. He was no forensics expert but he could see no reason to doubt that the fire started here. The rest of the house, though burnt and ashen, still had an intact shell and he could see a mixture of black ash and that hideous wallpaper. But the closet was, for lack of better words, completely toast.

"Lumos," Darrin said quietly. Silencing charm or not, he would never willingly break his habit of speaking softly when on a 'job'.

The blond man willed the light to barley the amount of a candle flame. He didn't need any more than that and didn't want to bring any visual attention to himself.

The closet was a total loss. Darrin couldn't possibly think of anything that he would find that the ministry might have missed. Though he put little stock in the intelligence of the bureaucrats, the Aurors were another matter entirely. On average, they didn't miss much.

But then again, They weren't allowed to cast dark spells.

Darrin pulled out a small diary and rifled through it. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.

"Chronos Inverté." He whispered the incantation of time reversal.

The spell was a tricky one and was highly illegal. Time turners were far more powerful and useful, but the only wizards known to be able to make them worked for the ministry and thusly were easily regulated. This spell, however could be cast by anyone who knew it. Thus it was outlawed several centuries earlier.

The air around the cupboard rippled as time itself inverted. It didn't take long before most of the cupboard was whole again. Darrin brushed away the dead spiders that had 'unburned'. Though they were whole again, the spell could not return life to them. Another reason why time turners were more useful.

When he cleared away some of the dirt, he noticed something not normally found inside a cupboard. It was an odd looking thing, like a compass, but with a diamond inside the center. The back had grooves as if it fit into a lock like a key would.

Darrin picked it up and the diamond turned from crystal clear to translucent blood red. Smoke emerged from his fingers and it didn't take long for Darrin to realize his glove was now on fire.

"Shit!" He dropped the artifact and stamped his hand down on the floor several times. The small fire went out quickly but he removed the glove just in case it was still smoldering. Luckily, he hadn't been burned.

The artifact's crystal went back to clear. Darrin now knew exactly what caused the fire, if not why.

"Now how to get you home?" he asked no one in particular. He pondered this quandary for a few minutes.

"I've got it. Cryo-immobilous."

The little known mixture of freezing and restraint charm seemed to do the trick. He picked up the artifact and though the crystal turned red again, the charm held.

"Finité Incantatum." Darrin banished the time inversion spell. The cupboard instantly returned to it's burnt and devastated state.

Darrin knew there was nothing else he would find of use at the house, so he made haste in leaving the area, pausing only long enough to banish the silencing spell.

Back through the dark shadow, he was once again a Muggle business man walking home.

---

Eric had been watching the house for sometime now. He had tracked his enemy to Surrey, but had managed to lose him in the mundane and repetitive streets of the rural neighborhood. It was with both joy and anguish that he read about his enemy's death in the newspaper. Joy in that his enemy was now dead, saving him the trouble. Anguish in that they key was now in the hands of someone else.

Eric managed to trace it back to Privet Drive, where his enemy was found dead in the front garden of a rather mundane family. Using his innate ability to remain hidden, even in plain sight, Eric watched the house. The key had to be somewhere inside the house. His enemy, though cursed in Eric's mind, was not stupid, much less sloppy.

Though Eric had managed to wound him critically, he would not have given up on his self-righteous quest. The key had some odd powers, this Eric knew. Powers unlike anything Eric had dealt with before, for it kept his enemy alive far longer than nature would've allowed. His enemy knew this, too, and would not have let it out of his possession unless he was certain of it's safety.

His enemy was now dead, ergo the key was no longer in his possession, and was given willingly to one of the residents of the house.

Eric just didn't know who. He watched the house as often as his ability would allow, retreating back to his motel room only when he was near exhaustion and could no longer maintain the concentration necessary to remain invisible. He watched three people coming and going, occasionally following them when he could. Nothing in what he observed indicated that they had possession of the key.

But Eric was a very patient man. He was eager to acquire the key, but he had time on his side. His enemy's friends would inquire about his death, but they would learn little. They would not know about the key finally surfacing after almost a millennium. At least not for sometime, if Eric was patient and didn't do anything to draw attention.

So he watched, patiently and methodically; occasionally changing the times he observed the family. Eventually, that patience paid off. There was a fourth living in the house. That would explain the slight aura variation of the house.

The father apparently did not like this boy as he was locked inside a cupboard for at least the two weeks that Eric had been watching them. It didn't take Eric long to figure out the boy was the one to be in possession of the key. His aura was quite unique. It was fading, but it was still ever present and more importantly, it matched the aura the key had.

Eric decided to wait before attempting to reacquire the key, as he wanted to be certain the boy had it. It would be quite a predicament if he played his hand and came up empty. Final proof that the boy, in fact, had the key came within the week.

The boy had apparently made a plea to be released from his prison. The fat man would have nothing of it, though. That's when Eric saw it. The boy revealed the key! The man grabbed it and then Eric was legitimately shocked to see what had happened next. The aura of the key, normally a soft but present white, turned a vivid and angry red. It seemed to seep into the fat man, as if taking him over.

The man howled with pain and threw the key down. The red aura in the man almost immediately dissipated, lingering only in the man's hand where he was quite obviously burned.

That was when things started getting strange. Strange for Eric that is. The man started yelling, his face redder than the key's still angry aura. Then he slapped the boy very hard. The boy, weakened from a severe lack of food fell instantly. In that instant, a shadow flickered in Eric's peripheral vision. He barely had time to duck as a white bird flew through where his head used to be.

A loud crack was heard and Eric noticed that the front window was the source. He didn't know the cause but it looked like another hit would break it. And that's exactly what it got as the white bird, an owl he finally noticed, had found another rock and made another run. The window shattered and Eric had to cover his head or risk getting a nasty cut.

The boy yelled out to the owl, ordering it to go to someone named Ron. The owl seemed to have understood this order because it flew off to the northeast. The fat man then really laid into the boy, starting with several kicks and finally lashing him with his belt.

Eric cared not for the boy or his welfare, but if the man were allowed to continue his beatings, the boy would die and that would complicate matters entirely.

He concentrated hard. He had tested the mental defenses of the whole family save for the black-haired boy and though the father wasn't the most intelligent person he was very strong willed. This would not be easy, but it had to be done.

'STOP!' Eric thought hard. It worked. The man named Dursley stopped in mid-swing. This was apparently enough for the man's logical side of his brain to regain control. The man dropped the belt next to the boy.

Eric could sense that this man named Dursley was not sorry in the least for his actions, but he was smart enough to realize that he would be in a world of trouble if this ever came to light. With a pragmatism that Eric couldn't help but admire, Dursley stuffed the broken boy back into the cupboard and locked it.

"This never happened. In two days, I'll be able to take the boy out into the countryside and dump him. We can say he ran away and then we'll be blame free."

In Eric's senses, the woman named Petunia, though disturbed by her husband's display, did not seem even remotely upset at his plan. Neither did the whale of a boy they called their son.

This meant that Eric no longer had the luxury of time. He had to assume that the key would be taken with the boy, so that meant that he needed to follow Vernon Dursley. A difficult proposition at best as his ability to remain invisible did not extend to anything that wasn't on his person. Eric went back to his motel room to ponder this new conundrum.

The next day, refreshed and recuperated from the previous evening's goings on, Eric returned to Number 4, Privet Drive, only to find that the boy was already gone. He didn't know exactly what happened but the images he plucked from the family's mind is that two men had come and taken him away. Men who were NOT constabulary as they had not been arrested... yet.

This did not bode well for Eric as it would make getting the key even harder, but one thing Eric was pleased about. The key had not left the house. It's aura was still resonating. More so now that the boy was no longer in the house. Eric had a sense of dread at what may yet come. Whatever it was, it would undoubtedly complicate matters.

That was little over a week ago. His feelings of dread were on spot as the house had burnt down that very evening. Eric knew that the key was the cause, but he didn't know exactly why. Did the key have some sort of sentience? It was possible, especially for an artifact of such age, that it had collected enough psychic resonance that it had achieved a personality of sorts.

But that would mean that it might be able to sense Eric's presence, possibly even his intentions. He did not know what effect that would have on his plans, but he could not abandon them altogether now. Too many things were in motion and failure would mean death, possibly worse.

But it did seem that he once again had the luxury of time. Until the man in shadows arrived.

Eric had waited until the police and fire departments did their investigations. Then he waited for the insurance adjusters to finish their investigations. Though he suspected they were more than they claimed to be as their auras were ever present.

Then, as chance would have it, on the night he was to attempt recovery of the key, a man in shadows appeared. At first Eric dismissed him as a simple mundane walking home from work. But then he stepped into the shadows and came out different. His clothes had changed from light gray and tan to all black. He clung to the shadows like a spider to the wall.

Clearly, this man was used to being surreptitious, but what truly intrigued him was his aura. It was similar to the ones claiming to be insurance adjusters. It was also similar to the black-haired boy's.

Then, for the first time in many years, Eric witnessed an event that truly frightened him. The man had used his aura to effect his surroundings. Nothing like what he himself could do with his psychic abilities. This man actually altered the reality of the area around the house.

Though Eric's abilities were not insignificant and they too, resisted the laws of reality, they were nothing like what this man was doing.

Eric had no choice but to wait. This man had powers that were beyond his comprehension and he had no desire to test out the other man's strength or competency in those powers.

After fifteen minutes, the man exited the house. He removed whatever effect he had placed over the house, then he stepped into the shadows once again, and once again he was just another mundane. At least outwardly. Now that Eric knew what to look for, he could sense that the man's powers were in use, causing that effect, similar to his invisibility power.

And there was something else. He had the key with him.

---

James Vermont walked up and down the lines of his students, measuring each one's stance. He corrected and encouraged when necessary and praised when correcting wasn't necessary. All in all, this new batch of adult students didn't seem to be half bad. Granted, it was still the first week, but he had high hopes.

"Very good, class. This is the back stance. It will be the stance you use most throughout the beginning of your training. As you progress, you will find that some stances work better than others in certain sit..."

His voice broke as a tingling sensation crawled across his skin. It lasted barely a second but James knew what it meant. However, he could hardly just break away from his class without arousing significant suspicion.

"Situations," he finished, "Sorry, felt like someone stepped over my grave for a moment."

James continued with his class for the next hour as if nothing had happened, but when it came time for his next class, he had the lead student start them on warm up exorcises while he went to the office. There he made the call.

"Hello." The answer was soft and almost indistinct.

"This is Verdigris," James said just as softly.

"Prometheus is dead."

"How?" James had to sit down. Prometheus was the code name for one of his closest friends in their order.

"I can not say this now. A meeting has been called with the usual details. Can you make it?" the voice asked.

"Verdigris will be represented."

"Acceptable."

The click over the line told James that the other person had hung up. He leaned back in his chair, phone receiver still in his lap, trying to recover from the shock. After a minute, he called his wife.

"Athena, I've just gotten some bad news."

---

Eric cautiously followed the strange man. He made sure to step only when the other man stepped. It was extremely difficult as he dared not read the other man's thoughts or emotions for fear of being discovered. As it was, he didn't know if the other man had sensed his presence already or not, but he had no indication of that happening. Yet.

Then it happened. He noticed the cat streaking across his path too late to prevent kicking it. It shrieked and hissed at its attacker but then at no sign of him, ran off.

The man he was following had turned with astonishing speed and he had a stick of wood in his right hand. He did not appear to see Eric, but that did not prevent Eric from holding his breath in agitation. If the man discovered him, there would definitely be a fight and he knew that they would both end up using their powers, whatever they may be.

The man looked around for a moment and his eyes met Eric's. Eric forced himself to remain calm.

'The man did NOT see me. He is just looking,' he repeated in his mind, more to calm himself than anything.

After what seemed like minutes but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, the other man lowered his stick and walked off again. He did not give Eric the impression that he had seen him, but Eric didn't want to take that chance. This man was obviously used to dealing in the shadows and was more than likely assuming that he was being followed.

Eric waited until the other man was about 10 meters away before he started up again, this time he extended his senses out just enough to prevent another accident.

They walked, seemingly endlessly for a time. Eric couldn't tell if he was sensing impending danger or if it was just paranoia, but he saw that the man's path would take them into the large and dark shadow of a tree. Eric mentally prepared himself to throw up a shield in case the man had a gun.

Whether it was paranoia or intuition, it proved correct. As the man stepped into the shadows, Eric heard a crack and saw the man disappear. He turned around to survey his surroundings. He knew of other psychics, including himself, who could transport themselves short distances and it was a known tactic among them to suddenly appear behind an enemy.

Still maintaining his invisibility, Eric threw up a shield just in case. This did not bode well.

---

Darrin made as much haste as he could without making him look too much out of place. He seriously wished he could have Apparated in and out but Apparating made too much noise. He mentally noted that is was definitely past time to find an invisibility charm or cloak.

He retraced the route he took into the large neighborhood, wanting very much to get home and have another slice of Molly Weasley's delicious mince pie (Darrin had mastered the preserving charm long ago for that very reason). But the shriek and hiss from behind him changed his thoughts really quick.

In a flash he had his wand in his hand and was looking around for what was following him. The cat that had shrieked had the same idea, but upon not finding anything it ran off. Darrin took a little more time to investigate the disturbance. This couldn't have been a coincident.

After a few seconds, Darrin was satisfied that either there was no one there at all, or that it was invisible. He didn't cast his all-seeing charm for that would make things a little to obvious, so he decided to wait until he could disappear himself.

He started walking again, going the same route he did before in case he was followed on the way in. After a few minutes, he saw his opportunity. A large tree was casting a massive shadow across his path. He could Apparate under the cover of darkness back one block and then cast his all-seeing charm. Then he would know for sure if someone was following him.

As the shadow consumed him, he Apparated. He landed exactly where he wanted and then pointed his wand at his eyes.

"Ocular Revelo," he whispered. The normal world rippled for a little bit and then he saw him. There was an invisible man there, but he wasn't wearing an invisibility cloak. He technically wasn't invisible at all, at least not by normal magical means.

The man had his hand out in front of him as if shielding himself, though what he could manage to block with only his hand, Darrin couldn't guess. In either case, then man's 'invisibility' did not dissipate. It fluctuated around him like nothing Darrin had ever seen.

Then their eyes met.

In an instant the man had disappeared and before Darrin could even react, he felt a sharp blow to his back. His eyes blurred and he saw stars of intense pain as he was flung forward. In an long forgotten self-defense move he rolled the moment he landed and subsequently was missed by the heavy boot coming towards his head. He shot his wand forward.

"Vermillious!" he cried and an angry red bolt shot forth from his wand. The man barely had time enough to put his hand in front of him. The spell, rather than impacting on him directly, dissipated over an invisible bubble, but it did have enough impact to throw the man backwards. He landed with an audible thud into the grass lawn.

Darrin started to get up, his next spell on his lips when he found his wand was flung from his hand. In the moment that happened, he saw his enemy's invisibility waver just a bit. Without even thinking he drew his pistol and shot three times.

Darrin Killroy was no marksman, but he was skilled enough to hit a man from four meters away. But only one of his bullets found their mark and even then it seemed to have bee redirected. It hit the man in his left shoulder. In that instant, Darrin could see that the man's invisibility completely faltered.

He wasted no time in reaching for his wand.

"Accio wand!" he yelled. The moment it landed in his hands, he Apparated away, knowing that if their scuffle did not wake the residents, then his gunshots did. He did not need to be questioned by the police about why he was carrying an illegal pistol.

He arrived in a dark alley near where he left his motorcycle. Checking around him to make sure that no one saw him Disapparate, he exited as quickly but carefully as possible. His motorcycle was still there but there was a parking ticket left on the petrol tank.

Laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation, Darrin pocketed the ticket, started his engine and headed home. Bill wasn't going to believe this.

---

Eric was fuming. Not only did he lose the key, he was now bleeding rather profusely from the bullet wound.

This new enemy was a worthy opponent indeed. Intelligent and adaptable and doesn't take chances. Eric was surprised that his shield had any effect on the man's... beam? He didn't know what that was but it was mostly stopped by Eric's psychic powers.

The bullets were another matter. Eric was good, but any projectile coming at a person at that velocity is going to be difficult to stop or redirect. As it was, he managed three, only the last was just enough to not get hit in the heart.

But the worthiness of his opponent didn't stop him from wanting to impale the man 's head on a pike. For this man had done far worse than just wound him. He left him to deal with the authorities that were sure to be called. It was attention that Eric was trying most to avoid. It was attention that would surely get back to his enemies, the Knights of Merlin's Keep.

---

Athena Vermont surveyed the small crowd around her. All of them wore the customary leather tunic that bore their crest. However, some of them, like her, wore a sash with another's crest. This meant that they spoke for that person who was missing. In this case, she spoke for her husband, and thusly, her household.

A man walked forward clearing his throat for attention. He was not very tall compared to most men, but he had a sternness about him that left little room for nonsense. His hard face was decorated with an even harder scowl.

"We are gathered once again," his deep bass voice echoed throughout the small hall, "I only wish it were for better circumstances. As most of you know, Prometheus is dead."

Quiet murmurs broke throughout the crowd. The speaker raised his hands to quiet them.

"Alas, I'm afraid it's true. He died just over a week ago; we discovered this only two days ago. One of our brethren in Surrey reported it to us as soon as the police had identified his body."

"But he was in America!" one person shouted, "If he returned, why did he not contact us?"

"He made contact with Swift Wind shortly before he left," the speaker replied, "He thought he had a lead on the Key."

Several of the crowd gasped while even more murmurs broke out.

"Calm yourselves, please. We have no proof of this, only what he reported. We do know, however, that he was murdered. And it was not by any mundane means."

"And do we know who committed this murder, Hyperion?" Athena asked. "Do we know why?"

"Unfortunately, we do not. Only that his body was found on the front lawn of a house in Surrey."

Athena's stomach tightened. She recalled that the Harry Potter boy, the one they thought wore the crown of lightning, lived in Surrey with his aunt and uncle, and that they had died in a house fire.

"What was the address?" she asked, almost out of breath.

"What?"

"What was the address? Where he was found. It is important!"

"I'm not aware. Why?" Hyperion gave her an inquisitive look. "Why is it important, Seraph?"

"B-because..." Athena could not finish her statement. A boy barely sixteen burst into the room still trying to don his tunic.

"By God Romulus, what is your problem? We are in an important meeting here!" Hyperion yelled at the boy.

"Forgive me, Hyperion," he said, finally fitting his arms through his tunic. Several laughs fluttered throughout the room as the boy had put his tunic on backwards. The boy either didn't notice or didn't care as he continued. "But I have just received word from Orion in Surrey. He said that this message was priority."

Hyperion scowled at the boy who was at least six centimeters taller than him, and the boy cowered.

"Well get on with it boy," the older man growled.

"Oh," the boy hurriedly put on a sash that bore Orion's crest, much to the ire of Hyperion.

"Boy, you do not speak for Orion! Remove that sash at once!"

"Be still, Hyperion," a voice from the back of the room spoke, "The boy speaks for Orion. I am witness."

Hyperion's scowl turned into a glare that could almost kill, but he waved the boy on without saying a word.

"Orion sends word of an incident. A man was shot last night, not far from where Prometheus was found. This man is known to us. It is Lear."

The crowd all started speaking at once. Hyperion waved for silence and when he didn't get it, he used stronger methods.

'SILENCE!' reverberated throughout everyone's mind.

"Damn you, Hyperion!" the voice from the back spoke once again, "That was unnecessary."

"I am Judicator at this meeting. I will decide what is necessary. And the first thing is for everyone NOT to panic. Boy, is Orion sure of this? Has he gotten proof?"

The boy nodded. "Orion swears by his blood that it is Lear. They were friends as youth. He recognized the man's face and one of his many false names."

"Was he seen?" said the voice in back.

"No, Lord Morgan. Orion believed Lear was unconscious at the time."

"Lear is as dangerous and cautious as Orion, if not more so. It may be a trap," Hyperion added.

"Orion agrees with you, but he does not think so for one reason. The man who allegedly shot him, Orion believes he is a wizard."

Hyperion laughed along with some of the crowd.

"Orion has been sipping his brandy a little too often, I think." Hyperion ignored Romulus bristling at the insult. "There are no more wizards. WE are the last defenders of Merlin's Keep."

"Yet Lear was defeated. That distinction so far has gone to only two people that I'm aware of. Orion and Verdigris. Even then, Lear managed to escape relatively unharmed. Yet now he has been shot? I can't believe that it was just luck."

"Lord Morgan, would you have us believe that Wizards still walk among us? If they do, why haven't they contacted us?" Hyperion asked haughtily, eager to make the other man look foolish.

"Perhaps for the same reason we have not contacted them." Lord Morgan smiled. "That simply being, they do not believe we exist."

Hyperion snorted.

"Pardon me, sirs, but Orion has spoken with several of the witnesses. Though no one saw a second man, one of them heard a man screaming strange words. The others do not report such an occurrence, but Orion seems to think that their memory has been modified. They all have the tell tale signs."

"Orion didn't happen to get those words out of the witness, did he?"

"Yes, sir. 'Accio wand'."

Hyperion's smug look vanished. Lord Morgan stopped smiling, but his demeanor was still light. The rest of the crowd was still muttering their shock. All but Athena.

"Seraph," Lord Morgan finally asked, getting everyone's attention back onto matters at hand, "I believe you were going to tell us the significance of the address where Prometheus was found."

"Y-yes," Athena nodded. "But I must know what the address is first if I am to be sure it has any significance at all."

"Milady, it was at Number 4 Privet Drive. Orion reports that it has burnt to the ground. No survivors."

Athena paled greatly and she had to sit down.

"I think it's safe to say that there IS some significance to this address. Am I also right in guessing that this may have something to do with your son?" Lord Morgan asked.

Athena nodded nervously.

"What could this possibly have to do with her son? He's not even an inducted member."

"That's not entirely accurate, Hyperion. Last week, Verdigris and Seraph, with my blessing and Romulus' witness, inducted their son. He has yet to be given a name but he is a member, with full rights."

"But he's to young," one woman in the crowd stated, "We haven't inducted anyone his age since the time of Merlin himself."

The general consensus of the crowd agreed with her statement. Hyperion's opinion was obvious well before he spoke it.

"You should have come to council with this!" he hissed.

Lord Morgan's eyes narrowed dangerously at Hyperion.

"You forget yourself, Sir Hyperion." His voice was low and cold. "By the council's leave, I am Lord Morgan La Fay of London. That puts Verdigris and Seraph's son in my domain. It is my decision and mine alone if and when he is to be inducted, not the council's. And I might add that you speak for the Matron only in a vote, not in a general meeting!"

Hyperion bowed his head in deference, but everyone knew that his coming apology was only out of protocol and not because he was genuinely sorry.

"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Morgan La Fay of London," he spoke without malice or sarcasm, "By your leave."

"We should hear what Seraph has to say, if the Judicator would allow," Lord Morgan replied as if the incident never occurred.

"Agreed. Seraph, your words, please."

Seraph stood and Lord Morgan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Some time ago, we received a caller. This man, with the government, had news of a special school designed for my son's needs. Most of you have met my son and know what I'm talking about. Or at least you would assume so. At the time, I did too, but all too soon I found out that I was incredibly wrong.

"This man was a wizard." Athena ignored the mutterings and murmurs her statement generated. "And he works for the British Wizarding government, what they call the Ministry of Magic. He came with a formal letter of acceptance to a wizard's school for my son."

"Are you telling us your son is a wizard, Seraph?" Hyperion said in disbelief.

"Hyperion," Lord Morgan warned, "You have met the young one. You have seen, nay you have felt his potential. Listen."

Hyperion scowled but said nothing more.

"We believed this man immediately, for he had performed magic right before our eyes. He had shattered one of my fine glass coasters, but then he repaired it with a wave of his wand and a word. It was like it had never been broken. Not even a slight discoloration or warping.

"It was then when he explained who he was and why he was there. Last week, we went to their main commerce center. It was a place so astounding, I can't even begin to describe it. Alas, by their laws, even if I could find the right words I would be disallowed to speak of it. I do so now only because of the severity of the situation.

"In that place, at a quaint pub, we met a boy. He lived at Number 4 Privet Drive. He had found out about his aunt, uncle & cousin dying in that fire that day. This boy is the one whom all of us have been waiting for. We met the boy who wears the crown of lightning."

The entire hall erupted again in a furor. This time Hyperion joined it rather than stopped it. It was Lord Morgan who finally silenced them.

"ENOUGH!"

The voices subsided.

"I have screened all three of the House of Verdigris. All three of them speak true as they know the legends. They do not show signs of addlement or tamper. As Romulus is my apprentice, he witnessed this.

"If this is truly the boy of our legends, then we will need someone to watch him. Wizards do exist, and this Harry Potter is apparently one of their most powerful. It is for that reason they contacted me and it was my opinion to bring the young one into our fold. Verdigris and Seraph both agreed as did their son. Had there been any other alternative I would most likely have taken it.

"What we need to decide now is how these events all affect each other. It is no coincidence that Lear has showed his vile head once again. I think it's clear that he is Prometheus' murderer. I also believe that Prometheus knew where the Key was if he had not already found it."

"But we have no evidence, Lord Morgan," said one of the men, "I mean no disrespect but all we have is your supposition, based on the report of a known drunkard."

"Better a drunkard than a patron of harlots!" Romulus snapped at the man.

Both Hyperion and Lord Morgan stepped in between the two who were now very ready to fight each other.

"If you two can not behave yourselves you will be exiled to the Silence Chamber," Hyperion snapped.

The two would-be combatants eventually backed down from each other. Lord Morgan continued.

"You are correct, Pythos, all we have is supposition, but drunk or sober, Orion's mind is as sharp as the Matron's. I for one believe his words, and I also believe that my suppositions are correct.

"I doubt Prometheus would have returned so abruptly unless he came upon an astounding lead. Lear is not creative enough to find the Key on his own. He would have waited until Prometheus had it before he struck. In any event, we can be almost certain that Lear does not yet have the Key."

"If Prometheus found the Key, and Lear killed him, what makes you think he doesn't have it?" Hyperion asked haughtily.

"Why would Lear stick around a small town like Little Whinning if he had the Key? He would have already found and opened the Keep by now if he did. I suspect that our mystery wizard managed to recover the Key before him, thus the fight."

"You are correct, Lord Morgan." A new voice was heard in the hall. All present immediately turned to the source and kneeled low.

"Matron," Hyperion welcomed, "You honor us with your presence."

"Oh do get up, all of you! I may be an old woman but I am no queen. Always bowing and kneeling. A pathetic tradition, I always thought. I would do away with it if I could."

The Matron hobbled into the center of the meeting using her gnarled cane for balance. Her long white hair was braided and tied, revealing her wrinkled and near skeletal face. She wore a frown on her face, showing her displeasure.

When she finally got to the center of the hall, Athena offered her the chair she had been sitting on. The Matron smiled warmly. An odd sight considering her near death-like appearance.

"That's okay, dear. I prefer to stand today. Too much sitting and I get stiff."

Her smile left her immediately as she turned to Lord Morgan.

"Causing a ruckus as usual, Lord Morgan?"

"As only I can, Matron." He bowed with a smile.

"Poppycock!" she snapped, but it seemed to lack any real bite, "You know what must be done, so get to it."

Lord Morgan nodded. "By your command."

The Matron did not wait for Lord Morgan to leave before she turned to Hyperion.

"By your leave, Judicator, I would speak without interruption."

Hyperion bowed and removed the sash that bore the Matron's crest.

"Lord Morgan is correct. The Key is in the possession of this wizard. However that may not stay the case. I and the other seers have come to a nexus. Too many paths have presented themselves for us to comfortably predict, so we must assume that Lear may yet get ahold of the Key.

"I encouraged him to allow the youngest of Verdigris into our fold. He is right in that we need someone to watch this boy who may wear the crown of lightning."

The Matron turned to Athena with a forlorn look on her face.

"I know how you feel, dear, and I am truly sorry that we must use your son in such a manner, but we have little choice. Rest assured that in his heart he does want this."

Athena nodded and released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"And he needs a name. I know it is tradition for one to be present at one's own naming, but desperate times call for desperate measures. From this time forth, we refer to the son of Verdigris and Seraph as Tilhører, the listener."

"Huzzah Tilhører!" they all chanted.

The Matron handed Hyperion a rolled up parchment.

"Instructions for the clan. The Key has been found, so now the Keep is all that remains. I want all available clan members searching including our brethren off continent. This is far too important for us to handle by ourselves."

"By your command." Hyperion bowed, then dismissed the meeting.

Athena made to leave with the rest of the group but the Matron gently took her arm. Soon the hall was empty except for the two women.

"Athena, I can see you have not told us everything you know about the wizards," she held up her hand to stop Athena's excuse, "And I know why. I was fortunate in my youth to meet a wizard."

She chuckled in a melancholy way. "Or unfortunate as the case may have been. As you know, I was part of an underground railroad for Jews back in World War Two. Well, on one of those trips, we came across an old German bloke. Thought he was on the run as well, he looked so frail. Little did we know who or what he was.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of the name Grindelwald?"

Athena shook her head.

"I'm not surprised. Not much is known about him. Well anyway, this Grindelwald, believe it or not, was the driving force behind the Third Reich. Oh, Hitler and the other boys certainly pushed it along nicely but it was Grindelwald who really gave them their start. Well this old German man just happened to be Grindelwald, a very powerful dark wizard.

"I'm surprised at how fate works. Here we were, a small and insignificant underground railroad and we were caught by our enemy's leader of all people. But of course, none of us knew this until after the slaughter was over.

"Grindelwald killed my husband first thing. It was a frightening thing, to see that green light from his wand and my husband just fall, a look of shock on his face. No pain, no scream, just shock. The next thing I know, the rest of us were caught in the crossfire of two very powerful wizards.

"A man, not much older than me in appearance fought Grindelwald. Oh a mighty duel it was. Curses and jinxes flying left and right. The speed at which they fought was unbelievable. The things they conjured to harm their opponent and defend themselves. I thought I had died and gone to Hell.

"When it was over, Grindelwald was dead. Alas, so were two more of our party. The man who fought him looked forlorn at the senseless loss of life, but we knew what we were getting into when we started that journey. We knew that it was nothing more than a simple matter of our life or our death.

"He then aimed his wand at us. For a moment, I thought we were all dead. I long knew about my abilities so I attempted to defend the rest so they could try and run. I was never very strong in the kinetic art, but I was sure mad as hell and that gave me enough fuel to grab his wand.

"And do you know what that old codger did? He laughed! Oh not the cruel laugh of a maniac, but the joyful laugh of an old friend. With his wand still in my hand, he laughed. Naturally I wasn't exactly thrilled with everything that had gone on, especially losing my husband.

"But before I could do anything else to him, he surrendered. 'You win, milady!' he cried, still smiling that damnable smile. 'I could not possibly do you harm, for you and I are kin. Crusaders for the same cause.' Well I thought he was talking about the war effort, but then he really shocked me. 'The Key to victory is found in friendship, not conflict. May we find it and Keep it in peace.'

"He knew what I was. I couldn't possibly harm him then. It was foolish, I know, but I just couldn't. I tossed him back his wand. And then he explained everything to me. All about his kind and who Grindelwald really was. Alas, he was forced to alter my compatriots memories. But he trusted me with his secret, saying that he would keep mine.

"His name was Albus Dumbledore."

"But that's the headmas..." Athena broke out before she could stop herself. "Headmaster of Kim's school."

The Matron smiled.

"Oh got promoted, did he. He was only a professor when I spoke to him. But be that as it may, I wanted you to know that you and your family need not be so cautious around me personally. Kim now has a dual allegiance. He is a wizard and therefore subject to their laws, as are you as his parents.

"You will need to contact him, and warn him of Lear. Tell him that if he needs to, he can speak to the Headmaster of our doings. Dumbledore is a friend to the Knights. I am not certain at what he will do or allow, but he will help. But Kim is to only go to him if there is danger. If a minor issue comes up, I am certain that he will be able to handle it himself.

"I have Seen his translator. He is a good man. He will protect Kim when the time comes."

"When?" Athena paled in horror.

"Yes, dear, when. I was not lying when I said things were difficult to discern, but one thing is clear: Tilhører will face Lear, and he will face Lord Voldemort."

The Matron put her hand on Athena's once again, to lend her strength for the oncoming hardships.

---

Bill sat down for breakfast next to Aaron. The other man looked like he'd gone several rounds with a Norwegian Ridgeback the way his bloodshot eyes and horrendously tousled hair just glared out at him. Bill had a hard time not chuckling at the poor man.

Aaron glared at him but with not much effort behind it.

"How you people can stand to sleep on those mattresses I'll never know," he muttered.

"Try Egyptian bedrock," Bill replied.

"At least that stays in one spot," Aaron complained.

"Oh you'll get used to it."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Aaron muttered almost inaudibly.

"Do we really put you off that much?" Bill asked.

Aaron was about to respond when the morning mail arrived. The owls flew in and all around dropping letters and packages here and there. One large snowy landed neatly in front of Bill and with a regalness that Aaron had never seen before, put it's leg forth for Bill to retrieve the letter attached to it.

Bill read the note from Darrin, careful not to let Aaron accidentally see it. It read:

Three Broomsticks
6:00 PM
-Demetrius

Bill knew that 'Demetrius' was one of Darrin's many false identities and he would be in disguise. He questioned his reasoning behind going to the Three Broomsticks at that time of the evening, though. It would be quite crowded. But Bill knew better than to question Darrin's judgement. He was more knowledgeable about playing the cloak and dagger games.

"Um, Bill, your owl is eating my toast."

"He must be hungry," Bill said plainly.

"But he's eating MY toast," Aaron reiterated

"Well then nip him some eggs. It'll give him some protein," Bill said amusedly.

Aaron curled his lips. "As you wish."

He then took his fork and with one swipe, picked up the remaining scrambled eggs on Bill's plate and dropped it on his. The eggs splattered a bit hitting the Snowy owl in its chest. The owl mildly screeched it's discontent at both Bill and Aaron.

Aaron glared at the owl, his bloodshot eyes and wild hair giving him a psychotic look.

"Don't complain, you actually got to eat your breakfast."

With that, Aaron took a healthy bite of eggs.

Bill sighed.

"You know, for a wizard who doesn't like the Wizarding world, you certainly fit in quite well," he said as he rose to start his day. "See you at lunch then. Oh and play nicely with Haley. He's a biter."

At that, the Snowy owl tried to nip Aaron's fingers but just barely missed. Aaron couldn't decide who to scowl at more, Bill or the owl. He opted for the owl.

"Hey, nip eggs, not fingers," he admonished the white bird.

Haley apparently was not in a mood to challenge Aaron so he took a few more eggs as Aaron watched Bill leave the Great Hall.

---

Bill sat in the crowded pub, waiting for Darrin's arrival. Dumbledore allowed Bill to meet with him at this time which was unusual as dinner was one meal where everyone, professors included, were expected to attend. But Darrin was sure to have a good reason, or so Bill hoped.

A dark-haired man with a squared jaw sat at Bill's small booth.

"Ah, Bill Weasley, I see ye got me note."

Bill almost instantly recognized Darrin.

"Yes, Demetrius, I haven't heard from you in a long time. How are things with you?"

"Strange as ever, but nothin I couldn't handle. Had a wee bout the other day but I came through just fine. I heard ye was workin up at the Hogwarts and since I was in the neighborhood I thought I'd drop ye a visit.

"I brought ye some gifts," he said pulling out a bag and handing it to Bill, "Just some bobbles and trinkets from me adventures. I even threw in a bottle of me home brew for you and the missus, put some hair on yer chest."

Bill glowered at Darrin/Demetrius. "I'm not married, Demetrius, and if I were I doubt my wife would want hair on her chest."

"Ye never know, she might." Demetrius laughed heartily earning and even sour look from Bill.

"It's a pity I didn't get you anything, Demetrius, but I'm sure I could always see what my brother or father can dig up from the Ministry."

Darrin's smile faltered for just a second, then he burst out laughing even harder.

"Oh, don't worry about ol Demetrius, I can take care of me self. But I thanks ye for the thought, mate."

"Anytime, Demetrius. Care for some food while your here?"

"Oh no, I gots to be goin. Just passin through. I might drop by again later. I'll send ye a note if I do."

"I can't wait," Bill said dryly as he stood to see 'Demetrius' leave.

Bill waited for about five minutes before he himself went back up to the castle. When he got there, he went straight to the Headmaster's office as Dumbledore had directed. As soon as the evening meal was over, Albus would meet with him to discuss Darrin's report.

Bill opened the bag of 'gifts' and was surprised to see that Darrin did in fact leave him a bottle of his homemade honey mead. Bill knew it wouldn't put hair on his chest but it would certainly knock him out if he wasn't careful.

The other two gifts were obviously part of his report. One was a rare item Bill recognized as a Thought Orb. This small device worked similar to a pensieve in that one could place a single memory inside, but rather than placing the memory itself, it was just a copy.

The other item was an odd sight. Darrin had placed a combination freezing & restraining charm on it, but for what reason, Bill could not figure out. The object inside looked like a compass with a diamond in the center. On the back side, he could see grooves that looked like it would fit snugly into something.

"And what does Mr. Killroy have to say?" Albus gave Bill a mild start.

"Oh, well let me try and translate. It's been a while. Let's see, he said things were 'strange as ever', that means he's run into something interesting. He also said it was nothing he couldn't handle. That was his ego."

Dumbledore chuckled as he sat down in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for Bill to sit in the other.

"Okay, he said he 'had a wee bout', that had to mean he got into a fight. Knowing him it was either a quick but fierce fight, or it was a good extended duel. I'm not going to surmise which. He did say he came through just fine which meant he was victorious but barely.

"And he brought us some 'bobbles and trinkets'." Bill held up the Thought Orb and other item respectively.

"Have you seen what was in the Thought Orb yet?"

"No, I felt I should wait for you."

"Well why don't we see what Mr. Killroy thinks is so important," the Headmaster said taking hold of the Orb. "Ready?"

Bill nodded and they both squeezed at the same time. The silver-gray smoke escaped from the Thought Orb and simultaneously shot out towards Bill and the Headmaster. Bill saw a brief flash of white and then he was in the memory.

The odd thing was, it was from Darrin's perspective. Bill tried calling out to Dumbledore but found that he couldn't. Apparently, he was stuck as Darrin until the memory was over.

The scene played out before Bill's eyes. The masquerade charms, the silencing charm. What shocked Bill was seeing the various dark spells in that little black book of Darrin's. He could hear Darrin whisper "Chronos Inverté" but felt as if he said the words himself.

He saw the entirety of Darrin's memory including why he cast Cryo-immobilous on the other item. Then he saw the fight between Darrin and the strange man. As soon as Darrin's wand was in his hand, he felt the sensation of Apparating and then the memory was over. The smoke retreated from his eyes and back into the Orb. Then it turned pitch black and evaporated completely.

It wasn't supposed to do that.

"It seems your friend truly has a criminal mind. I commend him."

"Sir?"

"He does not take many chances. He knew that because he cast a dark spell, if the Ministry were to learn his identity, he would be in even more trouble than he already is. He forced the memory to be from his perspective so his face could not be identified. And then, when the viewing was finished, he spelled it to destroy itself, ensuring that no one else saw it.

"Quite a credit to Slytherin cunning."

"He calls it a survival trait."

"That it is. Now let us see this other trinket. I fear I already know what it may be but I must examine it closely to be sure."

Bill handed him the frozen artifact. Dumbledore removed the spell and scrutinized it in depth. Unlike the memory, it did not burn Dumbledore in the least. The diamond stayed crystal clear.

"It is exactly what I thought it to be," he said after a good minute of examining it. His voice sounded weary and sad.

"Professor, what's wrong?"

"I am afraid I can not go into details just yet. The next time the opportunity arises, please tell your friend that his work was well done, but is far from over."