Treasures of the Founders

Chapter 1- Treasure-Seeker

Madeline Aborath sat down against the headboard of the bed and pulled her legs up. It had been a long trip, especially for someone who was used to aparating to wherever they needed to be. However, this time she had been unable to. The streets were just too crowded. From what this golden haired young woman had heard, the headmaster of the nearby school, Albus Dumbledore, had just been murdered. People were streaming in from all over to attend his funeral, which was set for the next day. Even this inn she was in had been affected by the death and the sudden rush on Hogwarts. The Three Broomsticks had had to magick up some more rooms. Hers was one of the new additions.

Madeline's icy blue eyes narrowed, and she scoffed as she heard a woman outside her door burst into tears…probably over Dumbledore's death. It was true that even she knew much of this headmaster. He was one of the most powerful wizards ever to live and had denied being Minister of Magic just to remain at a simple school. However, as many people were sure to have these thoughts--thoughts concerning the dearly departed headmaster--going through their minds, she only had one. Opening the old tattered journal up to roughly the sixth or seventh page, she sighed and thought that only thought.

I don't care about this funeral…or this death.

She was not there to attend Albus Dumbledore's funeral. Her reason was completely different…and it had nothing to do with this war against Voldemort, either. Hers concerned her family legacy…something that should be hers…

Madeline had forgotten the journal, laying open in her lap, as she grasp the necklace that fell from her neck on a silver chain. It was her family crest. Two swords, crossed and piercing a heart. A small banner between the swords and two rubies at either end of the hilts of the swords. Across the hilt and the banner were the words "Loyalty, Honor, Bravery," respectively. The heart that the swords pierced was indented slightly. All of this was in silver. However, in the center of the heart was a raised figure of a golden lion, up on its hind legs and roaring.

Her family crest.

The Gryffindor Family crest.

The crest was passed down to the oldest child of each member of the direct line of Godric Gryffindor's family. The child usually received the crest in with their Christmas packages in their fifth year of school. Halfway to adulthood.

Madeline came back to herself, releasing the crest. She straightened the red robes she wore. She always wore red. It was her calling card, her habit, her thing--as it were. Glancing down, she remembered the journal. She lifted it and begin to read the passages that defined her reasons for being here.

"It has fallen to me to hide them…all but Slytherin's. The Treasures of the Founders of Hogwarts. The cup, the sword, and the quill. I must keep my purpose unknown to even my dearest wife. My child, my oldest son--when he is old enough, will receive this journal and hopefully keep this secret. In Merlin's Name, I hope he will not have to call upon the Treasure's in his lifetime.

"I have scattered them all--once again, with exception to Salazar's, he would rather have his own possessions in his own control--and hidden them well, if I do say so myself. It was also given to me the task of creating the activation spell for these Treasures. I believe I have thought of the best one…one that would be less thought of.

"This last paragraph, perhaps the last about this subject in this journal, I would like to say this to my children, my children's children, and so on…use these gifts that myself and my fellow Founders have left behind only if needed and wisely. They are powerful, but their power is hidden. And unity is key. The unity that we could not keep amongst ourselves must be observed when using the objects. The cup, the sword, the quill, and even Slytherin's locket. Finally, when all hope is lost in dark times, my family, remember…look to loyalty, honor, and bravery. They will always guide you.

Godric Gryffindor"

Madeline closed the journal and put it away in her bag. Those treasures belonged to the Gryffindor family. They didn't need to be scattered across the face of the Wizarding World. She would find them, discover their power, then write her own journal. A more detailed journal revealing the treasures' secrets. And then…she would hide them again. Most would call her selfish to hear her plan, or at least, that is what her mother had called her.

"The Wizarding World would need them now, more than ever, in the War against Voldemort!" she had said before Madeline had departed.

She had had only one reply for her mother.

"They don't need them. They have Harry Potter…or at least, that's all I've heard from you."

And Madeline had gone. Her plans for the moment were simple. While they were burying Dumbledore, she would sneak in and take what was most diffidently hers. Her ancestor's sword.

She scoffed again as a whole group of women broke into tears outside her door. Sighing, she turned out the lights and rested her head on her pillows.

How was she ever going to get any sleep with all this weeping?