Tale of a Time Long Gone

A/N: And we've arrived at chapter 14... Hope you're all enjoying the story so far!

That said, here is the usual thank you to Mina, who has done a wonderful job as always!

Thanks, Mina!

In this chapter: Things between Godric and Rowena are sinking into a new low, the people of the village are finally made to understand the seriousness of the situation, Maureen shows some reptilian sense, and... well - just read the "Hogwarts, A History" excerpt to understand...

Enjoy!

Chapter 14 - Shockwave

"One of the most ancient (now rendered null and void) traditions of the Wizarding World was the Wizard Abduction Code. To modern readers this may sound a bit like a contradiction in terms. Abduction is obviously a course of action unaccepted by society, yet a code makes it somewhat legitimate.

"To the wizards of ancient times, however, this seemed perfectly sensible. Political abductions were commonplace at the time, as were assassinations and sudden disappearances. The Council, under Lord Islay, the third Chief Warlock, had composed the Wizard Abduction Code in which were fundamental rules concerning the behaviour of both abductor and abducted.

"Surprisingly enough, the Code was mostly heeded.

"What has this to do with Hogwarts? A mostly unknown fact is that Marcus Gregory was not exactly a law-abiding man, and to complete his mission he resorted to the foulest of means - the abduction, and possible murder, of one of the Founders of Hogwarts..."

- Hogwarts, A History; Author Unknown

The village tavern had been converted to a meeting hall in a surprisingly short time. To Salazar, who was standing with his friends at a dark corner, shrouded by a thick cloak, it looked as though they had it prepared in a matter of seconds.

The tables were swept aside with a wave of a wand, as were the chairs. The bottles and barrels were stored in the back room, and low benches were levitated inside and put in orderly rows.

He could feel his heart beating strongly as the people of the village started coming in and taking seats. One wrong word would send for the lawmen - and from there to Ambrosius' reach, the road was short.

"There is nothing to fear, Salazar," Maureen hissed in his ear from her seat around his neck. He missed her there for a long time since she went exploring upon the day they had settled in the ruins.

"How can you tell?" he hissed quietly, hoping not to get caught by a vigilant villager. "For all you know we could be clapped in irons and sent to Ambrosius gift-wrapped. I wouldn't put it beyond Alistair McAlister and his crowd. All they care about is their money."

"Many Humans do so, Salazar. For some it's what they do best. Now calm down. Your heartbeats make my head ache."

"Sorry, Maureen."

"Don't say sorry. Stop it."

Salazar stifled a chuckle. That snake was so domineering. Everything had to be done her way or no way at all.

When the tavern was full, Sir Rhys got up and placed himself in front of the men and women of the Loch, in clear view of the four standing in shadow.

Salazar felt more than saw Godric give the old man an almost imperceptible nod.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. "My friends, I am sure you are all wondering why I have summoned you here on such a fine summer evening when we would all rather sit outside and enjoy ourselves.

"Well, tonight I have a very serious subject to broach. The issue of Lord Ambrosius, and the stance we should take in the matter of his pursuit of Lords Slytherin and Gryffindor, and their two gentle companions."

Next to him, Salazar heard Godric murmur, "Gentle, my ar- Oof! Rowena!"

Salazar sniggered, but kept his eyes on Rhys.

"In the beginning of this year we had a long, loud argument concerning the matter. Some said that we should hide them - some said we should give them to Ambrosius as good citizens should. Since that time many things had happened.

"For one thing, the four settled in the ruins of Cormag's Fort and renamed them Hogwarts-"

"What is the meaning of this, Rhys?" Alistair McAlister demanded, jumping to his feet, his eyes darkening.

"If you would sit down, McAlister," Eanraig the smith boomed from his seat at the back. "Perhaps Sir Rhys would be able to explain."

"But-"

"Sit down, McAlister!"

The man sat down like a dog kicked by its master for disobedience.

Sir Rhys' eyes twinkled mischievously as he resumed his speech. "As I was saying, the four settled in the ruins and named them their home, sealing the deal by renaming them.

"You all found it very easy to ignore the matter at hand. You kept talking about what should be done, but never once did you lift a finger in any direction. Not so all of your neighbours.

"In the past few months, you may have seen some of the village children leaving each day, sometimes before daybreak, the area of the Loch. This was in order to receive education in the field of magic by the four at the ruins."

Mingled sounds of outrage and surprise rang in Salazar's ears.

"Mark the angry-looking ones," he whispered to his friends. "They are the ones we'll want to avoid later on."

"Yes, yes," Sir Rhys continued. "I understand the alarm that some of you might be feeling this very moment, but I assure you - your fears, though founded, will not come to pass. Not if you listen to what the four have to say."

"Ah-ha!" McAlister crowed. "You have been assisting the enemies of the government all this time, Rhys! You will receive what's coming for you when Ambrosius arrives here to finish them off! You will be the first one to go!"

Few villagers voiced their agreement, but those voices were drowned by others who wanted to hear Sir Rhys out. Salazar heartened. Things were looking up for them.

Sir Rhys simply looked at McAlister, a slight smile on his lips. "You were always the hothead, Alistair. This will not help you in this case." Then he turned to the entire hall. "Now we have come to the point of my words so far. I ask you all to vote. Will you or will you not consent to at least hear our four neighbours out and allow them safe passage back to their home at the end of this evening, no matter what your final decision is? All in favour raise you hands."

There was an awkward moment when no one moved. Men glanced at their wives, women glanced at their friends. None dared say anything.

Salazar froze. On this moment everything hung. If the answer to Sir Rhys' question was no, then there was no way for them to come out of the tavern without fighting. None of the new villagers - namely the Knights who had taken residence there in the past months - could raise their hands first, because that would turn the village against them. Neither could Ceridwen, Dahlia or Sir Rhys' family, for reason of their kinship to the four companions.

Finally, someone held up her hand. Defiantly, Moira, the mother of one of their students, raised her hand, challenging everyone with her eyes.

"You know Rhys tells the truth," she called out. "Ambrosius' Council is done for. It doesn't function and we are the ones who suffer for this malfunction. We pay tolls regularly and do our civic duties, making sure the Loch is a safe place for wizards and witches to live in. And what do we receive in return? Nothing, that's what! More tolls, more demands, more injustice! Those four whose life we're discussing have done nothing wrong but angering Ambrosius for failing to do as he ordered. Tell me, is that fair? Is this the justice of the Council?"

"Moira's right," Eanraig called out, rising to his feet, his hand in the air. "If what we are seeing these days is the future our children are going to have, why, then we should all simply pack our things and leave! This is not what I have planned for my boys. A future where they can be turned Servants at the slightest pretext? A future where they cannot be certain if some simple transgression will award them death or worse? I refuse to let them grow up like this. They are free men!"

"Let the outcasts speak!" an old man called out, raising his hand.

"The least we can do it hear them out," a few others concurred.

Slowly, most of those seated in the tavern raised their hands.

"Very well, Rhys," McAlister said grudgingly, glaring at his fellow villagers. "Send summons for the outcasts that we will meet them here tomorrow. Who will go?" There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that Salazar did not like.

"We probably should avoid the Loch in the next couple of days," he whispered. "He's up to something."

"Well," McAlister jeered. "Why don't you send for them? Too scared that they might kill you?"

"That won't be necessary, my dear Master McAlister," a voice said.

Surprised, Salazar whirled to see Godric stepping from the shadows near the door, pushing back the hood of his cloak.

McAlister jerked, his eyes suddenly wide. "What... When..." he then recomposed himself and demanded "How long have you been standing there?"

"Enough. Now that you have all decided to hear our words," Godric said softly, "I believe that it is time for us to introduce ourselves." He motioned the other three to join him.

Wary, Salazar complied, drawing into the light, walking through the aisle left between two columns of benches, the two women close behind.

"Now, my friends," Godric said. "We are, as you see, the fearsome outcasts that you have heard so much about in the past year or so."

There were several sniggers in the crowd, and Salazar had to stifle his own smile. With one proclamation, Godric managed to disarm a considerable part of his audience. The four of them truly did not look fearsome. Rowena had ink stains on her cheek and fingers, her hair was all over the place, aided by the fierce wind they had to ride in when they came to the village; Helga always appeared wide-eyed and innocent; Salazar was tired and blinked often - a thing that made him look ridiculous, he felt, but surmising that it was all in a good cause, he did nothing to stop it; and as for Godric? Godric always had the ability to charm almost anyone.

Godric continued his introduction, inventing it on the spot. "I am brave Lord Gryffindor of Wild Moor. This brooding man beside me is shrewd Lord Slytherin of the Fen. The darling looking girl is sweet Lady Hufflepuff of Caerwyn Valley, and last, but certainly not least - if I want to keep my health, that is-" More sniggers, and a painful looking jab in Godric's ribs by Rowena, "-is the fair Lady Ravenclaw of the Glen.

"We are, as Sir Rhys pointed out, your new neighbours, and anyone wishing to enjoy our company is invited to visit the lovely - though still under construction - Castle of Hogwarts. Do not be shy - we love having guests."

"Oh, do get on with it, Godric," Rowena growled. "They're not here to hear you smart-mouthing. Most have children and would like to get back to them before daybreak."

Godric did not let her deter him. Brightly, he said, "Now, I'm glad my dear Rowena reminded me why we are here. Children, as the smith here said, deserve to have a good future. That is why we are here, you realize. We are not fighting Ambrosius in order to make riches for ourselves or to get more power." His face clouded. "To be honest about it, we're as powerful as powerful get - Ambrosius is nothing to us in that aspect. We do not wish to rule, nor do we want dominion over the Wizarding World. All we ever wanted was a safe, peaceful haven for ourselves.

"But Ambrosius will have none of that. He wants us gone, and because of that he does not hesitate to hurt the entire Wizarding World - you included. Our task, therefore, is to stop this man before he can cause serious harm.

"We came here to ask for your support and help."

"And what can we do to help - if we choose to do so?" a gnarled old woman asked.

"The first thing is let us be what we want to be. Let us teach your children to become great wizards and witches. We have between us knowledge of most of the important fields in the arts of witchcraft and wizardry. Those amongst you whose children we already teach can attest to that. We have much to offer."

"How can you expect us to believe that we can get all that for free?" snorted a young man. "I don't know about some of the people here, but what I do in life does not earn me a lot. I have three children - how can I afford giving them all this so-called greatness of magic?"

"Of course it is not entirely free-" Godric began, but was cut off by the man again.

"See? What kind of-"

"Please," Helga suddenly said. "Hear us out, friend. Our teaching may not be free, but the payment is nothing more than you can afford. What we need for now is your help in building our Castle, furnishing it, helping make doors and windows, cleaning, building - anything that you can think of is welcome. Think of it as a long-term investment. Your children, who, I assume, are still too young to be tutored, will benefit from your help today. They will have proper classes and proper meals. Anything we can do in order to make their lives more wholesome in that aspect will be done - with your help."

"Say that we let you teach our children," another man said. "This is clearly not the only thing you want from us - you as good as said so only a few moments ago. What else does the bargain include? I'd like to know that before I sign my name to it."

"The bargain, as you so aptly named it," Salazar interjected smoothly, seeing that things were going more or less the way they wanted them to, "indeed includes more than that.

"By letting us tutor your children, you are contracting the Loch to us. You are making us legitimate. You are defying Ambrosius. This leads me to the second part of what we wish to ask of you." He looked at them, giving them all a chance to meet his eyes. "We need your support in defying Ambrosius and ultimately removing him and his good-for-nothing Council from their position of power."

The uproar that this caused nearly made Salazar's ears explode.

"You're asking us to die!"

"You will bring the end of the Loch upon us!"

"There is no way!"

"Ambrosius is too powerful!"

"We will all be killed."

"You are ridiculous."

Salazar winced noticeably when he heard that. This was not said by a scared villager. It was not even directed at them. It was Rowena, and her quiet voice penetrated the noise, making everyone stare at her.

"I am sick and tired of listening to this babble," she said angrily, her voice rising together with her temper. "Yes! What we are offering is dangerous - but so is not helping us. One way or another, we will pick up the fight against Ambrosius. With your help or without it. You cannot get to us - Hogwarts is well protected. What will you do then? Either way you will be dragged into this business. You cannot remain neutral.

"If you do not help Ambrosius, he will accuse you of treason, bring his soldiers and wipe out this village. We will do our best to help, but our best might not be enough for lack of actual need.

"If you help Ambrosius, you will be our enemies - but worse that that, on either occasion you will be trapped right in the middle of the war zone. Ambrosius will bring his men to fight us. Your children will be taken, your wives and daughters taken, too - only for other needs.

"I'm telling you what will happen, not threatening you. The choice is yours to make. I think we are done here. Discuss it amongst yourselves and let us know."

Without another look at her friends or the villagers, Rowena strode off.

Glancing at Helga and Godric, Salazar followed. This had better work, he felt.

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"I hated doing that," Rowena said angrily as they sat around the table in their small house. She had not touched her dinner. "Drawing straws is not fair."

"Someone had to do it, Raven," Helga reminded softly. "They needed it said bluntly and unadorned."

"I know. It doesn't make me feel any better. They are going to hate me now."

"They hated you anyway," Godric said sweetly.

"Shut it before I shut it for you," she growled threateningly.

A gentle knock on the door made them all alert. Gingerly, Helga got up and opened it. Heaving out a great sigh of relief, she let in Sir Rhys and Ceridwen.

"They bought it," Ceridwen announced, a tired smile on her face. "They will assist you in your every need, and after the summer season they will start sending children in."

"So soon?" Godric frowned, forgetting in his excitement to retort Rowena. "I thought it'd take them two days in the least."

"Eanraig, Wallace and the others had to give them a demonstration of why saying no is such a bad idea," Sir Rhys said with a broad, cheerful grin.

"Oh?"

"McAlister and his gang are going to have a horrible headache when next they wake."

"Ah."

"Are they likely to be any trouble?" Salazar asked. "We had better head off that sort of thing."

"Not likely," Ceridwen said, shaking her head. "Rowena's declaration made them scared to even move without you assenting."

"That's good. Did you manage contacting some of the other Knights? And the groups opposing the Council?"

"Deiniol and Reynard are still out there, picking the Knights one by one. As for those groups? We haven't received word as yet. My personal belief is that they are waiting to see that we are serious about it. They want to see some action taking place."

"Let's get on with it, then," Helga said.

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"Salazar! Salazar!" Helga called from the general direction of the still-crude stairwell that led to the dungeons.

The two were working on restoring the dungeons and making them habitable. Rowena and Godric were working up in the northern tower. Helga left a few moments before to ask whether they wanted to have lunch already.

Tearing his attention from the wall he was carefully strengthening, Salazar looked up to see her running towards him. At first he smiled, sure that she was going to tell him something good. Then he saw her expression in the dim wand-light.

"What is it?" he asked urgently, gripping her shoulders. "Did something go wrong in the northern tower? Are they all right?"

"Are they all right?" she cried. "They're ready to kill each other - they're at each other's throats! They wouldn't listen to a word I say! We have to do something about it already!"

Sighing, Salazar calmed himself. Sometimes he simply wanted to kill his best friend. Godric could not resist teasing Rowena. And Rowena, being her patient self, responded by exploding.

"I'm coming," he said. Then he hissed, "Come, Maureen. It's time to distract Godric and Rowena again."

The small snake slithered her way to his arm, hissing as she went. "I don't see why they keep repeating this, Salazar. It's becoming ridiculous. They feel the same way towards each other, so why not simply mate and have little ones?"

Salazar nearly choked on that as he followed Helga up the stairs. "This is not how it is done, Maureen. Not with humans."

"You humans are strange beings, Salazar. You make the smallest matters complicated. Just tell Godric and Rowena to stop being ridiculous. Tell them to make up and mate."

His strangled, "What?!" was apparently not said in Parseltongue, for Helga looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What - what?" she asked.

"Nothing, dear," he muttered, glaring at his snake. "Simply that Maureen has some weird ideas about our two friends up there."

She refrained from prying deeper into the matter. Her eyes were still worried.

He heard them long before they were halfway up the spiral staircase that led up to the top of the northern tower where Godric and Rowena were supposed to be finishing the placing of the carved wooden beams which helped support the tower's roof.

"-arrogant, foolish prat!" Rowena's voice rang.

"You don't have to be so sensitive about it!" Godric replied sourly.

"Sensitive? I'm not being sensitive. The fact of that matter is that you groped me!"

Salazar had to stop an involuntary snort.

"I told you they were at it again!" Helga said desperately as they peeked through the opening at the top of the stairs, watching the combatants. "They wouldn't listen."

"They never listen anyway. Why even try?" he said with a shrug, observing his two friends.

"Salazar!"

"Fine, fine - though if you ask me, he deserves it this time. Let's see if we can separate them. You'll help Rowena here, and I will take Godric to work down at the dungeons with me. How does that sound?"

"Like a bloody stupid way of delaying the inevitable."

"I know," he admitted. "But have you a better idea?"

She shrugged helplessly, her blond locks shaking and sparkling in the light of the sun coming through the not quite completed roof.

"Everything will be all right, dear," he said softly, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. "They will realize sooner or later what they are missing. For now - let's just keep them away from each other."

She nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Salazar walked into the small battlefield. "That's enough now, children," he said, catching the two's attention.

If looks could kill, Salazar was sure he would be burned to a crisp. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

"None of that, please. I'm just here to make a bit of order in the mess. Godric, pack up. You're coming down to the dungeons with me. Helga will remain here and help Rowena finish up. Are we clear? I'd like to keep the two of you away from each other 'til you cool down."

Glaring at Rowena, Godric picked up his cloak and wand, and followed Salazar down the stairs.

Once they reached the bottom and started making their way back to the dungeons, Salazar said, "You deserved that - you do realize that, don't you?"

"I don't see how any of that is your business," Godric replied petulantly.

"Godric, if you groped her, you deserve everything she had to scream at you."

"I didn't grope her," the other man said, though his eyes did not meet Salazar's. "I merely brushed against her as I was reaching for another beam."

"A brushing that may have included a lingering touch on her chest?" Salazar asked archly.

"Maybe," Godric said evasively.

"Godric, you should know better. I'm half in mind of taking you back and letting her hex you to Hades and back."

With a sullen Godric at his side, Salazar made much more progress down in the dungeons than with Helga. He supposed that it had to do with the other things he and Helga did whenever alone.

It was mostly innocent, mind you.

Really.

As afternoon wore on, Salazar suddenly remembered something. With all the excitement of the night before and the need to entertain the annoyed Godric, it had completely slipped his mind that their stores were dwindling and that it was time to take the supplies cart to the Loch. Hoping it was still not too late, he told Godric to go on working and that he would be back in a little while.

"No," Godric said. "Let me go. If I have to spend the evening with that wench I'll lose my mind. I will visit my mother, make sure that we can walk undisguised in the streets of the Loch, and close up some unfinished businesses. I need this outing, Salazar. Please."

Shrugging, Salazar nodded his agreement. It was truly for the best to keep the quarreling couple away from each other. He grinned to himself. In his mind, he already let Maureen's suggestion shape his thoughts.

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It was almost midnight. All the lights in the little house were supposed to be long out. This was not the case this time.

Light flooded from the half-shut shutters and voices were heard.

Salazar and Helga were sitting on a low bench by the fire and watched Rowena as she paced restlessly to and fro.

"He should have been back more than four hours ago!" she growled. "It doesn't take that long to load a cart and drive back! Irresponsible fool!"

"Please, Rowena," Salazar tried to sound composed. "Calm yourself. He must have stayed at Ceridwen's for a while."

"But it's not like him to disappear without a word. And it's been too long. Ceridwen will never let him stay up late."

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll take Cian for a ride and go get him. Then, when we come back, you can scold him for all you are worth."

Her expression doubtful, but her eyes lit with hope, Rowena nodded. "Tell him that I'll kill him when he comes back if he doesn't have a very good excuse - and if I discover he's been drinking himself senseless in that Calanthe's company...."

Smiling, though not waiting for her to finish up her sentence, Salazar got up, squeezed Helga's hand to reassure her and went out.

As he started on his journey to the village, he was humming happily.

Rowena was good for Godric. He had been too wayward for too long. Salazar could not say that his friend was irresponsible, nor could he deny the fact that he could be much more serious than he normally let on during the past year and a half. But Godric needed someone to pull him up short - and Rowena was just such person.

In his heart, Godric knew that, of that Salazar was sure. He decided that this was the reason for the other man's taunts and teasing. Godric realized, just as Salazar did, that a commitment to Rowena was a commitment for life. There was no going back, and Godric did not want that just yet.

It was obvious, however, to anyone but the two involved, that in the end they will give in - and the greater they are, the harder they fall.

Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor were in for a long, hard, inevitable drop.

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Salazar's first stop upon reaching the village was their usual loading point - a place just outside the tavern on the outskirts of town, where their supporters hid the supplies.

He could see tracks in the earth around that point - of a horse, a cart and a man. Godric had reached there - of that he had no doubt. However, as he was obviously not there anymore, he turned in the direction of Sir Rhys' house.

Salazar knocked on the front door firmly, hoping that someone was still awake. It took a short while, but finally Lleulu opened the door cautiously, her face concerned in the dim hallway light. When she saw it was him, she smiled, though her eyes still showed concern.

"Welcome, Lord Slytherin. How may I help you?"

"I apologize for the hour, Mistress Lleulu, but I am here on an urgent errand. Is Godric here?"

"Lord Gryffindor? He left over five hours ago," she said with a frown. "He came over briefly, talked with Ceridwen, and then left. He said Madam Ravenclaw would skin him alive were he to dawdle."

"Oh, I see. Do you think he may have gone somewhere else?"

"Maybe to Calanthe's tavern. I don't know."

"I doubt it, but I'll look. Thank you, Lleulu. Give my regards to Ceridwen, and again, I apologize for the hour of my coming."

Not waiting another moment, he turned, mounted his horse and rose off back to the tavern. It was not very likely that Godric stopped there, as he got an earful from Rowena every time he came back with the smell of ale and smoke on him. Her excuse was that it was dangerous for him and that he might be discovered, but Salazar knew better. It was still an option, though.

"Salazar Slytherin! Long time no see! How fare you? The hour is late," Calanthe greeted him cheerfully as he pushed through the door. The tavern was almost empty - most of its clients either too drunk to go home, or already asleep on the floor.

"Indeed. I mustn't stay here long, I'm expected back home. Is Godric here?"

"Godric? I haven't seen him in months. That Rowena keeps him on a tight leash, does she not?" Calanthe took it all in good spirits. She often confided in Salazar, telling him that she truly admired the stubborn young woman, but that it would do her no harm to let go a little of herself.

"It would seem so. So he wasn't here tonight? My thanks."

Leaving the tavern, Salazar was starting to feel the faintest thread of concern gnawing at him. Where could Godric be?

It was late. Too late. Less than two hours remained until daybreak and he could already see the early risers coming out to the streets, holding lit wands.

Spotting Eanraig the smith stepping out of his front door, Salazar called his name.

"Lord Gryffindor?" the smith yawned, rubbing his eyes. "I've seen him loading that cart of yours just before nightfall yesterday. He went to Rhys', I think."

That was no good. Salazar hurriedly caught the baker next door's attention.

"I'm sorry, Lord Slytherin," the man said helplessly, his eyes showing his awe. "I haven't seen him since the meeting."

The last person Salazar asked was a young woman who was cleaning her doorstep. The sun was already peeking up the horizon.

"Gryffindor's been here, yes," she said politely. "I recognized him immediately - been at the meeting, you see. He rode off right after sunset. He said he'll be back next week and then took off in the direction of the ruins."

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Salazar was worried. All the people he had talked to said that Godric was no longer in the village. If he was not in the village and not at home, then where was he? He was afraid for his friend, not knowing whether he was hurt or if something else had happened to him.

A chilling thought made him freeze. What if Ambrosius' men...

No. He refused thinking such unbecoming thoughts. With a sigh he mounted Cian again and left the village.

He made his way down the track leading to the ruins hoping that by the time he will reach home Godric will already be back, being shamefacedly listening to Rowena's reprimanding.

And what a reprimanding that one would be. Missing for hours. Rowena would be frantic.

Out in the gloom a horse neighed. Cian's ears pricked and he whinnied in return. Salazar was startled. There was only one horse Cian got along with.

"Godric?" he called. "Is that you?"

There was no answer aside of another neigh.

"Lumos," he whispered, wishing the sun would be up already.

Ahead, trapped within a thicket of trees, stood Godric's palomino stallion, Griffith, hitched to the cart of supplies. There was no Godric in sight.

Dramatic, no? Hope that's got you hooked ;)

Thank you to all of you who read this story, and to those who reviewed:

CootiePatootie: Glad you think that about Helga. A few people told me that she was a little two-dimensional, but I am trying... and I do love her. Thank you very much for your review and I hope that you will continue enjoying my story :)

Doxycide: Heh. My friend (I helped) had come up with such a ludicrous behind-the-scenes story that she asked to write a sort of "Salazar's view" of my story with the slash references. I gave her my permission but she ended up not doing it. Pity. Could have been hilarious :D Glad you noted that - you'd be surprised, but you may be the first (or maybe second) person to notice the similarities between Malfoy and Gregory. It was intentional, in case you wondered ;)

12345: You're quite welcome :) I won't be lying if I said that what I truly enjoy about posting my work is getting those lovely reviews. Thanks for the idea of the Chocolate Frogs cards! I might make use of it in a future story - since this one's already complete and I haven't the heart to start changing it now. Ambrosius... he appears here as a rather petty fool for several reasons. The first one is that when you see him in this story. He's so far into his debauchery and self-satisfying that he doesn't appear too threatening. Back at the time (meaning, the flashback-y era), he had been a formidable opponent, and even now he has enough power to cause the Founders a lot of trouble. The second reason is - He's not Voldemort. He's not a dark wizard, not someone who dabbles in the Dark Arts. He's just an ambitious man whose ambition got the better of him, together with a broken heart, a lot of envy and an everlasting grudge. See? I have a whole back-story ;)

Kitt: Don't worry, there'll be a bit more of Marcus Gregory before that slimeball goes away... He's quite the bastard. We-ell. Truth is, I use this fantastic site called Behind the Name which has a wonderful collection of names - modern as well as traditional and ancient. It's quite useful when you write something that's based in mediaeval times. Glad you lik 'em. It's taken me ages to find the correct name for each character.

And that is it for this time! Thank you all and stay tuned!