Tale of a Time Long Gone

A/N: Gah! I'm sorry there was no update last week - it's entirely my fault. I was so tired when it was time to put the update last week and I apparently left some dialogue mistakes there because I didn't pay attention and by the time I got home - it was already the weekend!

And so, I'm truly sorry, but now it is update time and I am proud to present one of my favourite chapters. Why is it one of my favourites, you might ask? Well, not because it furthers the plot much (though it does add to it, I promise), but because we get to glimpse a character I'm very fond of that would not appear in the story aside of a couple of snippets and hints, mainly because he's dead.

I still like him, because I know what happened before the time of Tale ;)

And now, let us all thank my wonderful beta, Mina, for going through this one, too!

In this chapter: So Marcus Gregory has Godric and my, the man is pissed. He thinks he has every reason to be pissed with our poor hero, and would very much like to kill him. Only he can't, because then Ambrosius would kill him in return. Poor, poor Marcus... Flashbacks, dreams and Godric acting in his best annoying manner. He had a lot of practice, that one...

Enjoy!

Chapter 15 - Knight

"Little is known of Godric Gryffindor's time in Gregory's hands. He said little of it, not even to those he cherished. The little he did say, much later on in life, was that during the time of his captivity, he came to terms with his ideals and beliefs, among other things that he will keep locked in his heart forever..."

- Hogwarts, A History; Author Unknown

While Marcus Gregory was waiting for Gryffindor to wake up, he was contemplating what to do. As a matter of fact, the big oaf fell into his hands much earlier than he had expected. He certainly almost missed him when Gryffindor entered the village, grumbling to himself about the unfairness of life.

Marcus had been hunting at that specific moment, and had finally managed to corner that dratted rabbit when it had been scared away by the passing cart.

He had been half in mind to curse the cart owner into oblivion, when he had realized who that owner is.

After that things were easy. Marcus had followed Gryffindor as he visited certain places in the village and then when he left.

It was only too easy to stun him from behind and then drag his limp body to his camp. He could not resist delivering a few fists to the unmoving man, though. It helped calm his nerves.

Now, however, as he watched Gryffindor starting to move a little, he was somewhat at a loss. He was not sure of the attitude he should take with this man. Was Godric Gryffindor an oaf, as many of his fellow Servants had said? Or was he in truth cut of the same cloth as his father?

His father. Bile rose in Marcus' throat as he thought about that man. Brave to the point of idiocy, noble to the point of exaggeration... He was too smart to be allowed.

On the ground, Gryffindor opened his eyes and then closed them again. The blows Marcus had dealt him blackened them considerably. Marcus stifled a chuckle at the wince of pain in the man's face. He certainly made sure that Gryffindor would have a headache the minute he would wake. It was very satisfying.

It was an interesting thing to watch, to say the least. Gryffindor was trying to remember where he was and what he had done last, and all this time he was not aware of Marcus sitting not far from him, calmly smoking his pipe.

Finally, after much effort, it seemed like Gryffindor succeeded in opening his eyes and keeping them open. The sky was dark and dotted with stars, and Marcus was sure that this was all that Gryffindor could see from his point of view.

Gryffindor groaned and tried to pick himself up. The moment he raised his head, however, it turned out to be a very bad idea.

When he finished emptying his stomach on the sodden ground, he flipped again on his back and breathed heavily. From the expression on his face, Marcus knew that he was trying to ignore the burning feeling in his throat - the one that came after vomiting, and which Marcus knew only too well in the days after what had happened between him and his commander. Anger rose in him once again. He shall have his vengeance even if the two responsible were long dead.

At present, he decided to speak, make sure that Gryffindor knew he was there. "Having fun?" he asked in amusement, his voice a little scratchy from years of smoking a pipe. He had taken to that vile habit when he had discovered that drinking really did not help him much and only did to befuddle his brains.

From the look of concentration on Gryffindor's face, he realized that the man somehow recognized his voice and was trying to place it. His lips curled in contempt.

Gryffindor attempted to sit up, but apparently found that his stomach still heaved. Presumably wishing to avoid a second performance of his previous engagement, he settled instead on raising his torso by leaning on his arm.

Now that he had raised himself, he had a much better view of where he was, and Marcus allowed himself to hope that the games could start even that very night.

The two men were sitting in a small enclosure between undersized, scraggly trees. It was quite a distance from both the Loch and the Castle. Marcus did not want anyone to catch sight of his fire, or of the deeds he intended to commit. The ground, admittedly, was a little sodden of last night's summer rain, but Marcus had been in worse situations during his career. This was simply a minor inconvenience.

Gryffindor was surveying his surroundings. His eyes swept over himself, then moved to consider Marcus' large roan horse, Honoratus, who was standing to one side of the small campfire. Honoratus was a proud animal, large and strong. He had carried Marcus for years without showing a sign of yielding to age. He watched Gryffindor as his eyes met with the polished, blood-red armour that was neatly stacked over his packs.

Again, recognition appeared in the captive's eyes.

Finally, Gryffindor spotted him. He was sitting in the shadows caused by the fire, and he knew that all Gryffindor could see was an outline and the smoke of the pipe.

He waited.

"Why am I here?" Gryffindor finally croaked, the burning in his throat evident in his parched voice.

"I commend you, Gryffindor," Marcus said, delighted. "Not where am I? Or who are you? No, you're going straight to business." He laughed and said, "Very well, I will tell you why you're here. You are here so that I can kill you and deliver your body and your friends to Ambrosius in Stonehenge. Was that blunt enough for you?"

"Quite," Gryffindor mumbled. There was a certain glint in his eyes that Marcus was not quite sure he liked. He started to get the feeling that this man, his rival, had all the characteristics that made his father such a dangerous adversary. The young man was already thinking of a way to defeat him. Pity that Marcus had to prove him wrong so soon. Gryffindor, however, was not aware of certain knowledge that Marcus had in his possession, so he continued. "Now that we've settled the pressing question - who are you?"

Marcus laughed again. A shrill, scratchy sound that he knew will set Gryffindor's teeth on edge. Merlin only knew how many times Ambrosius had gritted his teeth and told him not to utter that laughter in his presence. "I may keep you alive for a while just for the sake of amusement, my boy. Trying to find out who I am, are you? 'The first step in order to defeat one's enemy, is knowing against whom you are playing.' Lord Baldric's Rules of Engagement - The Knights of the Order of the Phoenix's most prized set of rules. My, my, Rhys has trained you well."

Things were going well for Marcus. His quoting of Lord Baldric's Rules was bound to make Gryffindor think just a little. No one was supposed to know about the Rules. Only Knights were allowed to read that document. Only Knights knew this document existed. Gryffindor froze. Marcus could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

He rose from the shadows and stepped into the flickering light. "Recognize me now, Gryffindor?"

Gryffindor had seen him only once. But if Marcus' assessment was correct, and the man had his father's talents, then once was enough. He was almost elated to be proven right as Gryffindor said, "Marcus Gregory, isn't it? You came over by the pillars a while back."

"Very good, Gryffindor. Very good."

"You said you want to kill me - why?"

"We shall keep that information for later on, though I don't see much reason to hide it from you. It will not help you much. For now, let's just say that I have my reasons."

"If you're waiting to gloat, then you'll be waiting for a long time," Gryffindor spat, hoping to goad him into saying something that will reveal more about him. "My friends will not fall into your hands easily."

Marcus snorted. "You fell into my hand like a ripe fruit, Gryffindor. Your friends will not be different."

Deciding he had played enough for the night, he pointed his wand at Gryffindor and with a couple of sharp commands, tied him and silenced his voice. He needed sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

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Marcus stands together with Vitus, his best friend. They are both of the last lines of Roman magic - those last proud families who refused to mingle their blood with that of the common magic Britons.

They are disdainful of the men surrounding them, but they both realize that they have to at least pretend to be respectful if they want to become an integral part of the Order.

"So you are our new recruits, then, are you?" a tall man about five years their elder calls as he strides near them. He has a commanding presence, and Marcus instantly recognizes him as someone with power amongst the Knights. The man's black hair is long, and he is tall and impressive. His presence almost overwhelms them.

"Well?" the man asks, somewhat in amusement. "Name yourselves. Do not be shy. We are all brothers here."

"I am Marcus Gregory of Herminius' line," Marcus replies proudly, "and this is my friend, Vitus of Gallus' line."

The tall man seems to be amused. This is not the awe-filled expression Marcus is used to receive when he introduces himself.

"And I am Gawain of the Gryffindor line," the man smiles. "This does not put me above my commander, though, does it? Do yourselves a favour, my boys. Keep your high and mighty approach to yourselves. This will not earn you friends amongst the Knights. I am one of the training Masters, you will do as I say. Do not argue with my commands, for arguments will get you nowhere around here. Are we clear?"

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Marcus tossed and turned in his sleep. He did not want to dream these dreams. Those things were in the past. Long dead and buried, together with the men who appeared in them.

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The man who rides into camp scares Marcus. He is grim and tired, but a lot of the Knights there cheer him as he arrives. He wears blue armour with the figure of a bronze eagle painted on its breast. The armour is battered and battle worn, and so is the massive sword he wears at his side and the big shield on his arm with the eagle crest painted on. This must be one of the great commanders who are fighting the Muggles on the Southern lands.

"Who is that?" Vitus asks him in awe. "He looks like a God amongst men."

Marcus shrugs. He has no idea who that man is. He taps one of the Knights' shoulder. The man turns, a slightly irritated expression on his face.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Who is that?" Marcus demands. "I have never seen him before."

The Knight laughs. "Of course. You are new around here - only a couple of years. This is Raven Lord - the Commander's own protégé. He has been trained for leadership from the moment he had enrolled as a Knight. He is here to say goodbye to the Commander, I warrant, and to take command from him."

"But he must be no older than twenty five!" Marcus protests. "He cannot be Commander at such a tender age."

The Knight laughs again. "Raven Lord is not yet twenty years of age, but he is the most competent among us - unless you count Gryffindor, and he cannot accept the position."

"And why is that?"

"Why is that?" the Knight splutters. "Because he is of the Council, that's why! One cannot command the Order if one is a member of the Council!"

Then the Knight turns and ignores Marcus' further attempts at drawing his attention.

The man called Raven Lord rides through the crowds with a morose expression on his face. When he reaches the Commander's tent, he dismounts and stands before Gawain Gryffindor who stands guard by the tent.

"It has been a long time, Raven Lord," he booms.

"So it has, Lord Gryffindor," Raven Lord agrees, then clasps the other man's hand.

There is a resounding clang as the two gauntleted hands meet.

"How is he, Gawain?" Raven Lord asks in a much less formal tone.

"Asking for you, Ryan," Gryffindor answers. "He has been asking for you for three days."

"Then I must see to him," Raven Lord answers.

Gryffindor puts a comforting hand on the other man's armoured shoulder, and Marcus perceives that these two men, though separated by seven years of age, and coming from two different lineages, are close friends. No. Closer than friends. Brothers.

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For a moment Marcus woke up in cold sweat. This was not like him at all. He had not seen those faces in years, and those occurrences he was dreaming of happened more than thirty years ago. This was not boding well even in his sleep fuddled mind.

There was no escaping those dreams however, and he soon sank back.

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The Muggles run. They run screaming. The Knights of the Order of the Phoenix ran them down moments ago, and now they are watching from the top of the hill as the few remaining are letting go of their pitchforks and torches and run for their lives. Marcus will have none of that, though.

They killed Vitus - his only friend among the Knights. The only friend left to him from his childhood.

Ignoring Raven Lord's commands, he puts his heels to his horse's flanks and thunders down the hill, screaming as he goes.

He only manages to kill two of the fleeing Muggles before a gauntleted fist takes hold of his reins and another wrestles him of his sword.

"That is enough, Gregory!" Raven Lord roars over the sound of screaming Muggles. "I commanded the killing to cease! They are escaping! These men will do no more harm to our people and you know it!"

"Will do no more harm?" Marcus screams, trying to get hold of his sword which is being held by Gryffindor just out of reach. "Tell that to Vitus! Tell that to Wybert, Cadeyrn and Hefin! Tell that to their wives and children! I will kill them all!"

"And what will you say to their wives and children?" Gryffindor says angrily. "Or to the wives and children of those Knights who will lose their lives attempting to save yours? Think, man!"

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Marcus moaned in his sleep, knowing all-too-well, even in this state, what would come next.

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"For atrocious deeds, done against Muggles and fellow Knights, Sir Marcus Gregory hereby stands trial," Raven Lord calls out, his eyes hard as he looks down at the bound Marcus. "Read his alleged crimes, if you please, Lord Gryffindor."

"Yes, Raven Lord," Gryffindor says from his seat next to his Commander. His eyes are just as hard, and dislike shines from them. "Sir Marcus Gregory is accused of killing Muggles on five separate occasions after the order to cease killing had been called. He had been seen going on personal killing journeys where he and several others hunted down Muggles, tortured them, murdered them, abused their bodies and raped their women.

"Several villages had been burned to the ground, their fields ruined and their water supplies contaminated.

"Furthermore, we have testimonies that Sir Gregory and his cohorts crucified Muggles as was common in the days of the Roman Empire and hung others from trees.

"To make things even worse, Raven Lord, these atrocities were not confined to innocent Muggles, but done to Knights as well.

"From testimonies gleaned from Gregory's cohorts who had had a change of heart at that point, from spies that had followed the man for the past year or so, and from surviving Muggle witnesses, it had been discovered that Gregory had killed several of his Knights who attempted to pull out of the deeds openly, and not only so, but torturing them and doing unmentionable things to their bodies.

"For those crimes, I ask for him to be put to death."

Marcus takes in a deep breath. He still has a chance. Raven Lord is a soft hearted man at times. If he is lucky, this was one of those times.

"My Lord Gryffindor," Raven Lord finally says, "fellow Knights. There is nothing that will make me happier than condemn this miscreant to death. It was fully my intention to do so when first I had heard of his crimes."

A glimmer of hope blossoms within Marcus' chest. Perhaps the fool will let him go.

"However, I have been commanded by the entire Council not to do so." Raven Lord's eyes shine in distaste as he says these words, venom drips from each one. "Therefore, with what little power those pompous asses left me, I condemn Sir Marcus Gregory thus:

"From this day onward, you are no longer a Knight. You are a man of contempt and I remove all protection of a Knight from you. I give full permission to any Knight who may happen across your trail to wreak vengeance upon you. You are a hunted criminal, Marcus Gregory, and shall remain so 'til the end of your days. Lord Gryffindor will take you bound and gagged to a place far from here. You will have three days to disappear, for after that I am sending my men after you - with the Council's permission or without it. Officially or not, Gregory, I will see you die at the hands of a Knight."

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This time, when Marcus woke, he was not able to go back to sleep. He got up and looked around his camp in the dim morning light.

His eyes met Gryffindor's icy blue ones.

"You had nightmares," the man said with certain satisfaction, and with a startled jump Marcus realized that the silencing charm must have worn off during the night.

"I did not," he denied, searching for the remains of his rabbit in his packs.

"Yes, you did," Gryffindor said gleefully. "I've been watching you all night. You've been tossing and turning and more than once you screamed."

"You lie," Marcus hissed, pulling out the leaf-packed remains. "I never uttered a sound. You are trying to make me tell you something. It will not work."

"Oh, but it has worked," Gryffindor's expression was smug. "You are much less confident of yourself this morning, and I distinctly remember hearing you mumble something about my father and Raven Lord. Something about committed atrocities as well. Your knowledge of the Rules of Engagement points to a Knight, but your dislike and the tone in which you said my father's name point to something entirely different."

"You have no idea what you are talking about," Marcus growled, savagely tearing at the cold meat.

"But I do, Sir Gregory. You were once a Knight, but for some reason you decided to go against everything the Knights held dear, and you were none-too-gently removed. That's why you want to kill me, isn't it? You couldn't get my father, so you decided to come for me."

"And what if I did?"

"Then you are a fool."

That was too much for Marcus. In less than ten minutes since he had woken, Gryffindor already succeeded in making him reveal much about himself. The man had the same irritating qualities of his horrible father. Gawain Gryffindor had that annoying self-satisfaction as well and that certainty that everything he did was the right thing to do.

"A fool am I?" he gritted, drawing his wand and pointing it at him. "A fool who managed to take you prisoner!"

Gryffindor shrugged. He was so infuriatingly calm.

"You can't kill me yet," he said with a slight smile. "If you kill me you will not be able to get the rest. They're going to find us you know."

He was so infernally calm that it made Marcus grit his teeth. The man was a captive, bound and on the ground, held at wand-point, and he still held conversation as though he was sitting on a chair near a fireplace!

Gryffindor continued, that same half-smile on his face, saying, "My friends will realize that there's a reason for my absence. They're waiting for the supplies cart - that's what I was doing when you so kindly decided to make me your guest. You should have checked."

Marcus ignored him and, after swallowing the last of that rabbit, felt around one of his packs for his pipe.

Gryffindor went on. "How much did Ambrosius pay you?"

"Why?" Marcus sneered, his nerves wound tight after the night's visions. "So that you could pay me more to stop me?"

"I don't think there's anything I can offer you that will stop you from doing that," Gryffindor said cheerfully. "No, I just want to know how much I'm worth to him."

"You're worth plenty," Marcus said softly, his eyes narrowing. "But my payment is not in gold. Oh, no. Ambrosius agreed to my terms almost readily."

"What terms were those?"

"The lives of both you and Raven Lord's spawn. Once Ambrosius had had his fill with you, of course, but I don't think he will mind me killing one of you on the way."

"Why us? Why not Salazar and Helga?"

Marcus laughed a bitter laugh. He realized that sooner or later Gryffindor will be able to discover the reason for himself, so there was no point in delaying the inevitable. After all, he had already made a very good guess only minutes before. "The Muggle born and the Slytherin brat?" he snorted. "What do I need with them? They don't bother me. It's been a known fact for a long time that I am after you and that wench. You were right, you know.

"For years I've been trying to get Raven Lord himself, but I never had the opportunity since he hid himself so well after Ambrosius did us all a favour and exiled him. Your father... well, the fool had himself killed too early on, so that left only you to begin with.

"I am going to have my revenge, Gryffindor. Your father had asked for my death, and I will bring your death. Raven Lord condemned me to years of a fate worse than death, and I will bring his daughter a fate worse than death before I kill her, too."

With certain amount of satisfaction, Marcus saw Gryffindor stiffen at these last words.

"My, my. Have I touched a sensitive spot there?" he smiled at the man's pitiful attempts to regain his composure. "You know what, my boy? I think I may have changed my mind. I will not kill you immediately upon capturing your friends. No... I will leave you alive long enough... to see what I do to your lady friend. You will enjoy the sight of what I do, and then, after I kill her - I will rid myself of you.

"Too bad that Raven Lord had had to leave a girl behind and not a boy... too bad."

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Marcus went out for a lookout that afternoon. After re-administering the silencing charm, he left Gryffindor at camp and slithered his way to his hiding place near the village.

He immediately realized that it did not take the companions at the Castle long to understand the reason behind Gryffindor's disappearance.

All three were at the village's center, discussing matters with a woman he recognized with something akin to fear as Ceridwen Gryffindor, and with Sir Rhys - one of the men most trusted by Gryffindor and Raven Lord.

Marcus could not make out what they were saying, but by the grim expression on Lady Gryffindor's face, he guessed that they had by now deducted who was behind the disappearance.

Cursing, he slinked back to his camp, where Gryffindor was methodically attempting to draw himself nearer the horse.

"Stop that," Marcus said irritably and removed the charm from Gryffindor's voice. "What is your mother doing in the Loch?"

Gryffindor smiled smugly. "She's been living there for a few years now. You did not expect to have to deal with her, now did you?"

"A minor obstacle, soon overcome. Ambrosius never said anything about not killing her."

"What do you have against my mother?" Gryffindor asked in puzzlement.

"What do I have against Ceridwen Gryffindor?" Marcus barked. "That nosy wench is the reason for my fall from grace! If she wasn't so damn nosy, the Knights of my company would never have let on anything! She was to blame! I should have killed her long before, but I had to flee for my life for some reason."

"Ah," Gryffindor said, his eyes alight. "Now I remember. You're the one she always called, 'that monster in human skin'! You're the one who murdered and tortured all those Muggles against the Phoenix Lore and against Raven Lord's commands! You're the one who was the disgrace of the order and raped and hurt all those women! You're the one who was only spared because the Council interfered! The one who betrayed the Lore."

"Betrayed the Lore?" Marcus said, his temper rising. "I? Betray the Lore? The Lore says to protect the lives of the Magic People against all enemies! The Lore says to eliminate that threat for a better life for all our people! Your father and that Raven Lord scum sold their lives because of so-called morals. They were too soft-hearted, and by that they betrayed the Lore. They let Muggles get away with murder of Knights and with murder of simple people. They let them get away with it!

"You call me a traitor? They were traitors ten-fold! I was a true Knight of the Phoenix and they were nothing but frauds!"

"You call yourself a Knight?" Gryffindor seethed, his eyes burning. "You? I am more a Knight than you are - and I was never knighted. The minute you began slaughtering innocents, the minute you started killing your brothers, the minute you turned from the path of the Phoenix, you stopped being a Knight. You call yourself defender of the community? Helper of the needy? Why, you are nothing but the muck that clings to the mud on a Knight's boot."

"I was making sure no wizard or witch were ever hurt again!"

"You made sure to cleanse the world of Muggles! How is that annihilation any help to us? The Muggles would have taken vengeance!"

"Not if there weren't any left!" And with that he kicked Gryffindor hard in the ribs, and the man fell silent.

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Gryffindor was silent in the next couple of days. Marcus took advantage of that silence to prepare himself to the fight that he knew would ensue. He now knew that there will be more than the three companions of Gryffindor to contend against. Lady Gryffindor and Sir Rhys would help them. That meant he had to prepare five different traps to get them all. Then he would kill the Lady and Sir Rhys, and take the other three captive. Ambrosius would be happy.

On the fourth day since Gryffindor's capture, something changed in the man. His sullen silence gave way to a once again cheerful manner.

"This is the last mistake you'll ever do, you do realize that, don't you?" the man said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"And why is that, Lord Gryffindor?" Marcus asked mockingly.

"Because you and Ambrosius, and all the others who support him, have already lost your cause."

"Gryffindor," he said in an exaggerated patient voice, "let me try and set things straight for you. You have been taken prisoner. I have already set the trap for your friends. When they come here, they will be taken by the trap and then I will take all four of you to Stonehenge - after killing your mother and Sir Rhys, of course."

"Of course. And pray tell, how do you suppose you will be able to control a wizard and two witches of unknown limits?"

"That is none of your business."

Then the other man fell silent, though that slight smirk was still on his face.

Ignoring the annoying man as best he could, Marcus started weaving his spells around, wishing to capture the three alive.

He was never a particularly strong wizard. Though descending from a noble line, his magic was very limited and only allowed so much before he would tire. Once he became a Knight, things were different.

One of the central things a Knight learned after taking the oath was how to combine swordsmanship and magic. Marcus had always been a good swordsman. He learned how he could intensify his magic by working it through his sword. He was one of the best. He had learned it from the best.

Raven Lord had taught him himself. For that Marcus admired him - for a while. But Raven Lord betrayed him. Betrayed the oath of a Knight. He had let other Knights die. He and that hulking ape of his.

With distaste he glanced at the all-too cheerful man sitting upright in his bonds, looking at all that Marcus did.

He decided it was time for Gryffindor to lose some of his smugness and cheer. Thinking back to the few conversations he had had with the man in the few days he had him under his power, he returned to that weak spot of his, that had Gryffindor so upset.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to Raven Lord's girl when I get her?" he asked, putting the finishing touches on his encompassing spells.

"No," Gryffindor replied warily. "And I'm sure I don't want to know."

"Well," Marcus said, licking his lips, "I think that you are going to hear it anyway."

He then settled himself on the ground in front of Gryffindor, just out of his reach, lit his pipe, and with a predatory smile on his face he began. "The first thing I'll do is rip her magic out of her flesh. The method, in which I shall do it, is not very complex..."

Half an hour later he was still having fun describing in detail what the women was to go through once he were to have his hands on her. For inspiration he used those countless women he encountered during his years as a Knight when all he had had in mind was how to kill, torture and otherwise hurt Muggles.

With more than slight satisfaction he watched Gryffindor's face turn green and then white, and finally reaching a murky grey. He obviously had no stomach for such things - much like his father. The man could not bear to watch the results Marcus' executions.

"...and finally," he said in a soft whisper, "I shall take her for myself - just before I kill her. And I shall enjoy her screams - as will you, for you will have to watch every single moment of her treatment, just like I promised."

"Now that wouldn't be nice."

Marcus sat bolt upright. Gryffindor was too busy being sick on the ground. He could not have said that. He slowly rose to his feet and turned.

An auburn-haired woman smiled at him. "Rowena Ravenclaw at your service, Sir Gregory. I believe we weren't introduced properly."

How could she have passed through his defences? He may have been a mediocre wizard at best, but this was his grand work!

He drew his wand and pointed it square at her chest. She did not bother even reaching for her own.

"Ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Gregory," another voice said just to Ravenclaw's right.

He whipped his head in that direction. "Rhys," he hissed.

The old man smiled. "I'm glad that even in your befuddled state you still recognize your old companions. As I was saying, I wouldn't recommend on hurting Rowena. You're surrounded."

From the shadows to either side, Slytherin, the Muggle born and Lady Gryffindor stepped into sight, wands in hands.

"Ah," Marcus said softly, "but now that all five of you are here... my trap can open."

With a flick of his wand, blue flames erupted all around, surrounding the five people, setting their clothes on fire. Then, before any of them had the time, to react, he started shooting thin, snakelike cords from his wand that wrapped themselves around the trapped fools.

Something was not quite right however. The five did not look panicked at all.

A stunning spell's beam of light missed his head by fractions of a distance. He whirled around and on his other side there were five others, smiling wolfishly.

"Why, hello, Marcus," one of them said, hissing. "Long time no see, eh? Practically since Gawain hurled you by the hair as far as he could. Where have you been hiding all this time?"

"Yes," another said with an ugly undertone to his voice. "We searched everywhere for sudden slaughters of Muggles - even after the Order disbanded. We were hoping so badly that you would slip and we'd be able to kill you and bring Gawain your head as a present."

Marcus' mouth went dry. "Brendan, Alban, Gwilym, Hallsteinn, Deiniol," he said, trying to keep his eyes on all five at the same time. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," Deiniol smiled evilly, "look, my friends. It seems like Gregory has missed a very important thing. You should have done your homework more carefully, dear boy. We happen to live here."

"No," Marcus stared in disbelief. "No, it can't be - I made sure-"

He had time just for one thing. He whirled again, and trained his wand on Ravenclaw, who stared at him defiantly. "DIE!" he screamed and let go the most powerful curse he knew.

Then there were beams of light all around him. He dodged and ran, sending his own hexes and curses in every which direction. He knew that whatever happened, at least he managed to complete his vengeance on Raven Lord.

Then something hit him, and he knew no more.

Eeep... I'm evil, I know :)

A little bit of trivia for you all - this chapter (or great parts of it anyway) was originally written from Godric's PoV - but somehow it just didn't fit - 'specially because then I could not fit in all those fun bits about Gawain and Ryan. Did you like those? I think they fit rather nicely in there.

And before I continue and reply to those who reviewed, just wanted to let the lot of you know that this is:

HALFTIME

That's right. We're halfway through Tale of a Time Long Gone! Just fifteen more chapters and the Epilogue to go!

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

R&G: Sorry 'bout the cliffie :) I guess I'm a little addicted to those... Glad you liked Maureen's style. She's quite the cheeky little snake, isn't she? Thank you!

Argyle: I'm very much honoured that this is the first Founder fic you ever read and I'm glad that you're enjoying it so far. I suppose you could say that my Godric and Rowena are somewhat inspired by Lily and James' relationship. Probably because I like that ship very much, too. Thank you very much and I hope that you will continue enjoying my story.

Siriusisnotgay267: Thank you! And I must say, I love regular updates, too :D

Ariesfire: cliffhangers are evil, but very much fun. And at least you can trust that unless I'm sick or have drowned in the toilet or fallen of the face of the earth, this will be updated weekly! :) Thanks!

Kitt: Told you there'd be more of Marcus Gregory ;) Hope this answers your wonderings! And as for updates... if I could have updated more often I would have, but weekends are the only time I'm at home... glad you like the story so much!

Katalyst159: Yep. It somehow fit better - again, especially since, as you could see in this chapter, Godric had heard about Gregory before. He could better rattle the already unstable man. And yes, Rowena did, in a way, stormed the keep in which Godric was held, apprehended the villain (or at least attempted to) and... well, as for the slapping and the scolding? You'll have to wait to next week for that ;) I won't tell you exactly when said "falling in love and admitting their feelings" would happen, but since this already halftime, it won't be much longer, so stay tuned!

Skitti.witti: Thank you very much! I'm very happy to hear that :)

tbmsand: Lady Ravenclaw would be back - promise - but not in a while yet. A few chapters still to go before she makes her appearance. I completely sympathize with the politicians remark ;) Sometimes you just wish you could shake them by the shoulders... Helga and Salazar? You'll see what is going on... :D

And that is it for this time! Thank you all and wait until next week's update!