Avalon - Chapter 11 - Southbound

Southbound

It wasn’t so often that he found himself north of the wall built by Hadrian to separate his legions of the Picts and tribes, but Myrddin had heard whispers of another attack.

However, upon his arrival into the region, it had seemed that there was little truth to such rumours. Well, that was the impression he’d gotten until he’d spoken to the locals and saw the scars left behind from the skirmish for himself.

Some of the trees on the outskirts of the village bore the char of the fire that had torn through the area, and although the buildings had been repaired well enough, there were all the signs of a battle of sorts having taken place here.

‘We do not know who they were. They helped us when the Danes attacked and helped repair the damage they’d done. They stayed for some days after before leaving.’

“Do you know which direction they headed in?”

“South.”

“And you didn’t hear their names?”

“No, they didn’t share them. We were too busy grieving for our dead, and they were an extra couple of pairs of hands to help us. They were good workers.”

It had not taken long for Myrddin to detect the faint traces of magic, and though he couldn’t glean much from them as they’d faded to almost nothing, he knew both men who’d intervened were indeed magicals.

There had been two separate traces, one belonging to each of them.

Had they merely been passing through?

Even if that were true, why would they involve themselves in such a volatile confrontation when they had nothing to gain from it?

The village was not a wealthy one, and those Myrddin had spoken to insisted the men had asked for nothing in return for their assistance.

It was a strange occurrence indeed, and yet, the tale seemed to have only begun to unravel.

Another rumour of a further incident south of the village had reached them, and upon investigation, Myrddin had learned that two men had rescued a woman being interrogated for suspected witchcraft.

Like thieves in the night, they’d absconded with the woman, and despite the best efforts of the villagers, they’d had no luck finding them.

Myrddin, however, had once more discovered traces of what he suspected to be the same magic, but no sign of the wayward men he found himself seeking.

Much to his frustration, the trail had quickly run cold, and though he’d made enquiries further south, the direction the two were heading, he’d heard no other mention of them or their deeds.

As quickly as they’d seemingly arrived in the area, they had vanished without a trace, and it appeared the mysterious duo would remain just that.

With nothing left to follow, Myrddin decided upon returning to Camelot.

Arthur would have need of him before long, and he could ill-afford to be traipsing the length and breadth of the country in search of ghosts.

Perhaps the two men would make another appearance, but until then, there were other matters for Myrddin to attend to.

As much as he did not wish to pressure Arthur into an untimely marriage, it was the very best way of obtaining a strong ally, more men, and building his reputation as the one true king of the land.

Already, he’d begun sending out the missives to those he thought might be worth allying with, and Myrddin suspected that he would receive responses, both good and bad, in the coming days.

(Break)

Fortunately, the road below the wall had been much more peaceful for Harry and Godric, and they’d made good progress south in the days since Helga had come and fetched the woman they’d rescued.

Of course, they’d seen more marching forces than Godric had anticipated along the way, indicating that the country was once more in a state of unrest.

It was hardly a surprising revelation given what they’d seen not so far away from Hogwarts.

‘It is usually like this?’

‘No,’ Godric answered Harry gravely. ‘War is common, but to see so many men marching at once all over the country is rare. Something is happening.’

Immediately, his thoughts had drifted to Myrddin and his foolish undertaking.

Although there had been no mention of the man, Godric did not doubt that he was at least in part responsible for the sudden mobilisation of so many forces.

Thus far, they’d seen Danes, Saxons, and Britons marching to various territories across the country; a great movement, and one that would inevitably end in much fighting, and likely for many years to come.

Releasing a deep sigh, Godric’s gaze shifted towards Harry; the young man who would inevitably find himself embroiled in such fighting.

Their time on the road had been good for him.

Already, he was adapting well to hunting and surviving in the wilderness, and he’d proven himself to be of good morals.

Without hesitation, he’d thrown himself into the fighting the night he’d first consciously taken a life and had been the one to suggest they help the woman.

Godric was proud of the man Harry was becoming, and all he had already done.

Such a burden he bared, and yet, he was managing it so admirably.

“I expect it will only be another few days or so before we reach our destination,” he announced as they passed through a familiar pasture.

There was a farm nearby that Godric had visited on occasion to purchase vegetables from during his travels, but the place seemed to have fallen into disrepair.

As they reached one of the gates to access the land, he shook his head.

A sign had been hung declaring that this was now land belonging to the Danes, and that the farmer had resisted the takeover.

Godric knew what that meant.

The farmer and his entire family had been murdered by the invaders.

His grip tightened around the reins of his horse as he urged it forward.

It seemed that civility had taken a back seat up and down the country in favour of bloodshed and dominion.

Such things could only end terribly.

Violence, and death without diplomacy.

It was foolish.

None seemed to learn of the mistakes of the past.

The conquerors would eventually be vanquished, and their empire would fall, like many others before them.

Godric could only shake his head.

“Fools will be fools,” he murmured, eliciting a questioning look from Harry. “Just a simple observation,” he explained.

Harry nodded, and Godric offered him a nod of encouragement.

How much of the brunt of what was to come he would need to absorb, Godric didn’t know, but being out in open and away from the safety of the castle made Harry’s fate only more real.

Whether or not the young man had fully grasped what lies ahead, he didn’t know, but it would be a monumental undertaking, and if he was to have any hope in succeeding, he needed to be ready.

Godric would ensure that he was.

Before Harry was to depart the castle and embark on the journey laid out for him, Godric would see that he was prepared to face whatever was thrown at him.

(Break)

For the most part, Rowena considered herself to be an introverted person, choosing to keep her mind occupied with understanding the many types of magic she had encountered throughout her life.

Sometimes, however, she fell into a habit of losing herself in her thoughts and could spend days pondering something of interest with little sleep.

It could be quite the burden possessing such an inquisitive, and what many would consider to be a profound mind, but her accomplishments spoke for themselves.

So few could claim to have innovated magic the way she had through her dedication to doing so.

Not that she was one to singer her own praises.

Perhaps when she reached the twilight years of her life she would reflect on all she’d done, but until then, she would continue on.

For now, however, thoughts of innovation were far from her thoughts as she made her way through the corridors of the castle and paused outside the door to the medical bay.

Within, was the woman who Godric and Harry had happened across on their travels.

She had yet to speak more than a few words to anyone since Helga had returned with her; the trauma of what had happened proving to be significant.

As she entered the room, Rowena offered the woman a smile.

She looked considerably less pale today, and seemed to be talking to Helga, who occupied the chair next to the bed.

“How are you feeling today, Kaia?” Rowena asked gently as she joined them.

The woman nodded.

“Better,” she answered quietly.

“Kaia was just telling me what happened,” Helga broke in, an unusual frown of irritation creasing her brow. “She was accused of witchcraft which led to the death of a man romantically pursuing her.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” Kaia protested. “He fell to the ground clutching his chest!”

Rowena held up a hand.

“We do not believe for one moment that you are responsible for what happened,” she assured the woman. “We only wish to help you.”

Kaia released a deep breath and nodded.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “The young man who rescued me, who was he?”

“Young man?” Helga asked.

“Dark hair and green eyes.”

Helga looked towards Rowena who shook her head.

Evidently, it had been Harry who’d taken her from her captors.

“His name is Harry,” Rowena explained. “He is one of our students, and the man is…”

“Godric Gryffindor,” Kaia declared. “Was it really him?”

Rowena nodded.

“It was him,” she confirmed. “Can you tell us what happened after you were captured? Please, do not if it is upsetting to you.”

Kaia nodded, though she paled at the thought of it.

“They beat me,” she whispered. “Not on my face, but they hit the bottom of my feet with sticks and threatened to burn me. They screamed in my face and pulled my hair. I begged them to stop, but they wouldn’t. It was when one of them removed a hot poker from the fire that there was a knock at the door. No one was there, but before I knew it, both of the men were on the floor and the young man was helping me out of a window. He didn’t escape before the two men were noticed, and we fled on the back of horses. It was the next morning that Godric sent for you to get me,” she finished, looking towards Helga appreciatively.

Rowena could only shake her head in response.

“Well, you are safe now,” she sighed, “and you are welcome to stay as long as you need. When you are ready, we will prepare a room for you in the castle.”

“I do not wish to be a burden,” Kaia replied.

“You won’t be,” Rowena assured her. “Rest for now, and if there is anything you need, you can send for one of us.”

Kaia nodded gratefully and Rowena took her leave of the medical bay, followed by Helga only a moment later.

“Perhaps we should’ve known better than agreeing to letting Harry go with Godric,” Helga huffed.

“It was the right decision,” Rowena replied. “Harry must know what the world outside the castle is like. It can be as harrowing as it is magnificent, and he must be prepared for it.”

“Do you think Salazar will share your view?”

“I suppose we will see soon enough,” Rowena sighed. “Come, we’d best speak with him. Besides, we must finalise our plans to join the would-be heroes.”

Helga giggled amusedly.

“Did you really expect them to travel without incident?”

Rowena shook her head.

“Truthfully, I expect the two of them to cause more trouble. They both seem to have a proclivity for attracting it.”

Helga nodded her agreement and the two of them made their way towards the dungeons.

It was better that Salazar heard the tale of what had happened from them, after all.

(Break)

Arthur parried the swing of Lancelot’s blade, and took a step back quickly, knowing how fast the man was. Lancelot nodded his approval and continued his attack, changing directions regularly and making Arthur unsteady on his feet.

“You’re getting better,” he praised, pulling the king to his feet. “Much better than when we first started. I might go as far as to say you might just be able to beat one of the stable boys soon.”

“Up yours,” Arthur snorted.

Lancelot grinned in response.

“You are doing well,” he said reassuringly. “I’ve always just seemed to have a way with a sword,” he added with a shrug. “I don’t quite understand it, but I’ve not met anyone I can’t best when it is just me and them.”

“Then I am grateful that you are on my side.”

“You should be, or you’d be dead,” Lancelot chuckled. “Come on, one more.”

Arthur nodded and braced himself for the impending onslaught, and he quickly found himself defending himself as Lancelot did not hesitate to attack him.

Although they were only using training swords, he was covered in a litany of bruises from where he trained with the man, but he would not be deterred.

One day, he would get the better of his friend, though Arthur was certain that would not be this day.

As expected, Lancelot once more sent him sprawling from a heavy blow, and he groaned as the wind was force from his lungs.

“One more?” Lancelot asked amusedly.

“You enjoy this too much,” Arthur grumbled.

“How many people can strike their king and not be executed?”

“True,” Arthur huffed as he pushed himself back to his feet and made his way to where his skin of water was waiting for him.

He drank from it deeply before wiping the sweat from his brow.

His body ached from all of the training Lancelot was insisting they did together.

“Any responses from the letters Myrddin sent out?”

Arthur nodded darkly.

“Six, thus far,” he sighed. “Three have agreed to attend, two are considering it, and one declared me a false king that he has vowed the kill the moment we meet on the battlefield.”

“He sounds like a pleasant fellow.”

Arthur hummed.

“I just wish I had more of a choice on who I might marry.”

“Well, as a king, you need to make powerful allies, and the best way of doing that is to marry a daughter of an equally powerful man. It is one of the sacrifices you must make.”

“I know,” Arthur muttered unhappily. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, it is,” Lancelot returned. “I wouldn’t want to be a king. Too many people either want you dead or to kiss your arse. I’d rather be left out of it entirely.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said dryly. “Well, you’ll be facing whatever I am when we leave this place.”

“True, but if you die, they might let me live. You don’t stand a chance.”

“You’d let them kill me?”

“If we lost, Arthur, what position will I be in to prevent it? There’s no point in both of us losing our heads.”

“Such a true friend,” Arthur laughed as Lancelot offered him a wink. “Oh, he’s back!”

He smiled as Myrddin entered the room, nodding his approval as took in the two of them.

“You are training hard, I see.”

“I am.”

“Good,” Myrddin declared. “I trust you have faced no issues in my absence?”

Arthur shook his head.

“No, and we have three confirmed attendances, two under consideration, and one…well, that one was not so kind.”

“From whom?” Myrddin asked with a frown.

“King Marlon.”

“He’s a damned fool,” Myrddin sighed. “He has managed to take a small corner of the west for himself and he has the gall to call himself king. Fear not, Arthur. Marlon is no threat to you, and in truth, he would be of little use.”

Arthur nodded.

“How were your travels?”

“Ominous,” Myrddin answered. “Quite the mystery to solve, but I expect it will do so itself in due course. For now, I am at your disposal. How is Leofric?”

“Happy that he has some land to farm,” Arthur explained. “His men speak very highly of him as a soldier, but he prefers to tend to his crops.”

“You’ll often find that the very best soldiers are those that wish there was no need to be one. Unfortunately, the world is not kind enough to give many such a reprieve. The very best of men must fight for a lasting peace. That is what your rule will bring, Arthur.”

“I hope so,” Arthur said sincerely.

News of the skirmishes up and down the land reached them at Camelot regularly, and though Arthur knew he was not ready to confront his enemies to put a stop to what was happening, he longed for the days of peace.

War would come first.

Much of it, and it was not a thought he relished.

Nonetheless, with good men like Myrddin and Lancelot by his side, and the hope of many other joining them, Arthur was reassured that their efforts would not be in vain.

It would not be easy, but one day, Britain would be a land of peace.

Arthur would fight for that with his final breath if necessary.

(Break)

Salazar paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in his office, pondering what Helga and Rowena had revealed to him. In truth, he wasn’t surprised that Harry and Godric had somehow gotten themselves involved in such a situation.

He’d known Godric long enough to understand his character, and he liked to think he was getting to know Harry too.

However, given what he’d learned from Castor, Salazar knew he couldn’t make any assumptions.

It could be foolish to do so.

“It was Harry who rescued her?”

“According to Kaia, yes,” Rowena answered.

Salazar nodded and felt rather guilty for his doubt.

No, Harry was not like the monster who had murdered his parents. He might be in possession of a piece of the man’s soul, but it had not corrupted him.

He’d spoke of how he’d risked his life to save a girl from a troll during his first year, and another from Sura during his second. He’d even fended off dozens of dementors whilst saving the life of his godfather at the end of his third.

His actions spoke of nothing other than selflessness, and Salazar breathed a sigh of relief.

“You expected this,” Helga broke in.

“With Harry and Godric?” Salazar snorted. “I would’ve been dumbfounded had they made it back here without incident. Godric alone has quite the penchant for finding himself in trouble. Do you remember when he got mixed up with the goblins on the continent?”

“It was how he got his sword.”

“And almost lost his life in the process,” Salazar pointed out. “Godric might not cause trouble, but he finds himself in it more often than not when he leaves the castle.”

“He does,” Rowena sighed, “but I stand by my belief that he is the best of us to accompany Harry.”

“As do I,” Salazar agreed. “Godric is a man of the land, so to speak. Harry will be well enough with him. Besides, I think they’ve proven that already, don’t you?”

“I wish they wouldn’t,” Helga murmured irritably.

Salazar hummed.

“Well, it will not be long before we meet with them. Speaking of which, there is something I must do. Would the two of you be opposed to another joining us?”

Rowena frowned.

“The girl?”

“It seems that she and Harry have struck up quite the friendship,” Salazar explained. “I know that you do not like her…”

“It is not that do not like her. I simply find the magic she uses to be distasteful.”

“Regardless, I think she would like to join us, she is just nervous about doing so. I discussed it with her already, but if the two of you were to give her your blessing, she might just change her mind.”

Rowena pursed her lips, and Helga appeared uneasy.

“This is about Harry,” Salazar reminded them. “Should he not have his closest friend with him for his birthday?”

Rowena narrowed her eyes at him.

“Manipulation, Salazar? I would think you to beyond trying to coerce us of all people.”

Salazar smirked.

“Is it not working?”

Rowena continued to glare at him.

“I do not see the harm,” Helga sighed. “If they have indeed become friends, then I am sure Harry would appreciate her coming along.”

“Of course, you would cave,” Rowena huffed, “but I agree. Perhaps I have been unfair to her from time to time.”

“Are you admitting you might just have been wrong about something?” Helga gasped.

“Never,” Rowena denied petulantly, folding her arms across her chest.

Salazar chuckled amusedly.

Rowena wasn’t so proud to admit she was wrong, it was just that she very rarely was, though this time, Salazar was inclined to believe Rowena had been mistaken.

Morgana concerned the woman because she was delving into magic that Rowena had little understanding of.

It was dangerous for those who did not share the relationship Salazar had seen Morgana develop with her magic, and she had always been cautious, for the most part.

Now, she was more confident and perhaps took more risks, but as far as he was aware, she’d never caused herself any lasting harm.

“Are we going to speak with her?” Rowena asked.

Salazar nodded, unable to fight the urge to smirk at his friend.

It was seldom that he had such an opportunity to feel smug, and he wasn’t going to let it slide without enjoying it as fully as possible.

(Break)

Harry scowled at Godric as the man laughed at him for the umpteenth time since they’d left Hogwarts so many days prior. Once more, he’d finished his morning training, only for the man to take his wand and his sword from him.

‘You must learn to defend yourself without any weapon in hand, Harry. You may find yourself in need of such a skill.’

Godric had proceeded to teach him how to throw and block various punches and kicks, before he’d seized Harry by the front of his tunic and unceremoniously thrown him over his shoulder.

“You know, you’re a git,” Harry grumbled as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“Yes, but it is better you learn these things from someone who do not wish you harm than a foe. You will undoubtedly meet savage men who will bite you as though they were a feral dog, and even stomp your groin to mush.”

Harry grimaced at the unpleasant thought.

“So, we will be learning to fight with no weapons?”

Godric nodded.

“Every day.”

“Great,” Harry muttered irritably. “Why now?”

“Because now is the right time.”

Harry shook his head.

“Fine, but I’d rather you didn’t stomp my groin to mush. Maybe I’d like to have children one day.”

Godric eyed him curiously for a moment before nodding his understanding.

“The deepest desire of one who never had a family of his own.”

Harry swallowed before nodding.

“It might be one of the few things I have to look forward to, if I am fortunate.”

“I believe you will be.”

“You do?”

“If I did not, I would be doing everything in my power to hide you in the hope you might live a life of substance that you have already been deprived of. I would not be giving you false hope of a victory I cannot foresee.”

“Thank you.”

Godric offered him an encouraging smile.

“You have the makings of an exceptional wizard, Harry, but you must start believing in yourself. Already, I have seen you do great things, and I expect many more will follow. Do you think Salazar is the kind of man to waste his time on someone untalented, or that he would falsely sing your praises?”

“No.”

“Exactly,” Godric returned with a grin. “Now, come along. We are not so far from home.”

“We’re not?”

“Only a few hours,” Godric answered. “I chose to stop so that I may prepare myself for it. I have not been back since shortly after losing my wife.”

“You know, we don’t have to do it.”

Godric nodded.

“I want to, Harry. I want to be able to relive the many fond memories I have and not the final bitter ones. When Magdalena died, we moved away. I wonder if our old home is still there.”

Godric lost himself in his own thoughts, and Harry allowed the man his moment of privacy as they set off once more.

Being away from the castle had been quite the sobering experience for him.

At first, he’d simply marvelled at just how differed the world was compared to the one he’d left behind.

Hogwarts had changed quite little throughout the centuries, but the same couldn’t be said for everywhere else.

He’d scarcely left Surrey since he’d been left with the Dursleys.

Venturing into London had been rare indeed, and he was only taken along when Mrs Figg had been unable to watch over him, but Harry did not doubt that the capital would be unrecognisable to him, much like everything else he saw.

There were no cars or planes overhead, and the dwellings he and Godric came to along the way were rather small and simple, for the most part.

Occasionally, they would see a castle somewhere in the distance, but seldom any other buildings so grand.

There were few paved roads to be used, and there were no factories nor men in suits.

The differences quickly became rather glaring, and they began to weigh heavily on Harry.

Life here was not easy.

Even with magic, the world was a harsh, bloody struggle which only seemed to lead to more strife, but somehow, he was slowly getting used to it.

He still mossed his friends and Sirius, and he’d even welcome an encounter with Malfoy for a sense of normality, but Harry knew it wouldn’t come.

The Lady in the Lake had taken him, and he couldn’t help but think that there would never be a way back home for him.

This would be home now.

As daunting as it was, this would be Harry’s life, and he knew he’d barely taken his first steps into, that he’d experienced nothing compared to what lie on the path ahead.

(Break)

She struggled internally with her decision on whether she would return to the lake in the evening. She wanted to, but she did not wish to give Salazar the satisfaction of being right.

Morgana knew that there was a part of her that was longing for Harry’s company, and that was why she continued to make her way to the edge of the water every night since he’d left with Godric.

She knew he wouldn’t be there, but it somehow made her feel closer to him.

It remained an odd thought to think of someone in such a way.

They’d only known each other for a few passing moons, but for Morgana, it felt longer.

Maybe it was because she found herself comfortable with him being around, or that he was quite intriguing to her.

His very existence was evidently rather ominous, judging by what little Salazar had told her.

Morgana had even considered the she may have magicked him into existence, but that was a foolish notion.

What she couldn’t deny, however, that the lake, and even her home was no longer the same without him being here.

She released a deep sigh as she continued to carve the runes she’d been working on.

It was a meticulous task she’d hoped would occupy her mind, but she’d become so adept with them that she needed to pay little mind to what she was doing, pausing as she caught sight of a glowing symbol etched into one of the fingers on her left hand.

Morgana frowned at it before dropping her tools and tracing the simple shape with one of her other fingers.

“Sowilo,” she murmured. “Will, wholeness, guidance, hope, power, victory…”

It was one of the very first she’d carved when beginning her studies in the art, but it had come to mean much more to her than she’d ever considered.

“Harry,” she whispered.

She’d not mentioned it to him, but the scar that lurked above his brow was a perfect representation of the rune, and her own now only served to remind Morgana of the wayfaring boy.

She swallowed deeply as she continued to stare at it with a sense of fondness, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and she hid her glowing hand within her robes.

Morgana frowned at the sight of Salazar entering the clearing a short distance from her home, and it deepened as the two women followed.

Grasping her wand, she felt an unease wash over her.

Were they here to send her away from the school?

“We come peacefully,” Salazar spoke, holding up his hands placatingly.

“What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” Salazar assured her. “I was hoping that you may have changed your mind about joining us to visit Harry. I discussed it with Rowena and Helga and they have agreed that you should come.”

Morgana’s gaze shifted to the shorter, plumper of the women who offered her a war smile.

Helga had never been unkind to her.

She had tried to steer Morgana away from the magic she had chosen to dedicate her life to, but she’d never referred to her as unnatural or dangerous.

The same, however, could not be said about Rowena, who merely nodded in her direction.

“I already told you…”

“Oh, stop being stubborn, girl,” Salazar chuckled. “Besides, I would think you would want to check up on him after his ordeal.”

He wore a knowing smirk and Morgana narrowed her eyes at him, but she suspected it did little to hide the sudden onset of worry that plagued her.

“Ordeal?”

Salazar nodded.

“We have a guest in the castle who had been taken by a mob of muggles for practicing witchcraft. Harry and Godric took it upon themselves to rescue her.”

“Is Harry…?”

“Harry is fine,” Salazar assured her. “It was him who got her out of there.”

Morgana could only shake her head.

Despite not possessing magic, muggles were still dangerous to their kind.

“Stupid boy,” she whispered.

“Well, Kaia thinks him to be a hero,” Salazar responded. “It was a selfless act on his part, and all is well.”

Morgana hummed.

“If he’s fine then why do I need to go to him?” she asked.

“Because you want to,” Salazar said bluntly. “You can deny it all you want, but I can see it. No one is going to force you. I think he would like to see you too.”

Morgana shook her head, but before she could speak, Rowena broke in.

“I would like you to come. Harry has so few people in his life, and although I admit that I am surprised, you are one of them. You should be there to celebrate his birthday.”

Morgana released a deep breath as she looked towards what she’d been carving for him and couldn’t understand why she was resisting the offer.

Pride.

If she did, it would be admitting to herself and them that she was missing him.

She knew that it was a foolish thing, and yet, it was not so easily pushed aside.

“We will meet you at the gates tomorrow before sunset,” Helga interjected before Morgana could speak again. “Do not make me come here to fetch you. I’m getting a little too old to be traipsing through all of this undergrowth.”

The two women turned to leave, and Salazar offered Morgana an encouraging smile.

“You should be there, girl,” he urged. “Don’t let your stubbornness get in the way of something I can see you want, and you know Helga means it. I’ve been on the wrong end of her temper before. It is not something I would wish on an enemy.”

Morgana merely nodded in response and Salazar’s smile widened before he followed the others, leaving Morgana alone once more.

When their footsteps had faded, she returned to carving her runes.

The gift she had been preparing to give Harry upon his return would be ready before she needed to leave, and Morgana frowned to herself.

Had she known she would see him again so soon?

There had been no need to begin making what she had so soon when Harry was not due back for several weeks yet.

(Break)

“We would bring our children here to the river,” Godric exclaimed excitedly. “I would create some animals out of water and call some birds from the trees. They would fly around us whilst the children swam.”

Harry smiled at Godric’s smile.

It was infectious, and he couldn’t miss the fondness in his tone.

“We would ride horses along this trail. There was another farm just there, and that was where my daughter became interested in animals. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I managed to get her a unicorn. It was an elderly thing and was tired of being hunted by unpleasant people. She agreed to spend her final years with us, and my daughter cared for her. I think that is what led her to travel the world searching for other creatures.”

“Can you speak to animals?” Harry asked curiously.

Godric chuckled as he shook his head.

“Not converse the way that I do with humans, but I seem to have a natural understanding of them. They can sense it and will come to me. Watch.”

He whistled a few times and only a moment later, a small sparrow landed on his shoulder.

Godric whispered to it a few times before sending it on its way, and it returned again carrying a twig.

“Thank you, friend,” the man said gratefully.

With a chirp, the sparrow vanished back into the trees and Harry could only shake his head.

“That was amazing.”

Godric beamed.

“It is one of my most treasured skills,” he replied. “Especially now in my later years. I have enjoyed a good life, Harry. One full of adventure, and I will continue to do so until my time to pass on comes. Then, I will be back with my Magdalena. And this is where it all began.”

He gestured to the village sprawled out before them.

It was one of the bigger settlements Harry had seen since leaving the castle, and it was quite something.

Only a few of the buildings here were made of wood, but most were hewn from stone.

“It is one of the few places that magicals and muggles live harmoniously,” Godric explained. “I have seen the world, Harry, the good and the bad, and everywhere I go to is the same. Muggles and magicals, for the most part, do not mix. Egypt is the perfect example of how muggles exploited magicals before almost eradicating them entirely. They have been living in secret for centuries now.”

Harry was interested by what Godric was saying, but much of the man’s words had been lost on his as he gazed towards one of the houses.

“This is it,” Godric murmured soberly. “This is the house I was born in and where me and my wife lived.”

“This one?” Harry asked, pointing to the house that had gotten his attention.

Godric nodded, and Harry felt his head suddenly lighten.

Gripping the reins of his horse to prevent himself falling, it was as though he was walking to the front door in the dead of night, a feeling of excitement coursing through him.

A front door, different to the one before now was blasted open, and he was confronted by a man who looked much like him, but he was no match for Harry.

He quickly slayed the man before making his way up a set of carpeted stairs.

‘Please, not Harry! Kill me instead!’

‘Stand aside, girl!’

‘Please, not my son!’

‘Avada Kedavra!’

The echoing laughter within his mind brought him back to his senses, and Harry was breathing heavily as Godric held him steady on his horse.

“Harry are you well?” the man asked worriedly.

Harry nodded and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“It was here,” he choked. “This is where my parents were killed.”

“In this house?”

“Yes.”

He found himself in a state of shock as he continued to stare at the door, and Godric followed suit, taken aback by the revelation.

“Are you certain?”

Harry nodded once more.

“This is where I was born,” he explained. “I can see it all as though it was here now. This is where my parents hid from him, and where…”

He broke off, unable to finish his trail of thoughts.

Godric said nothing but wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder.

“Then we should leave,” he suggested after a few moments.

Harry shook his head.

“No, I want to stay. Somehow, it makes me feel closer to them.”

Godric nodded his understanding.

“No one ever told you that you were from here.”

“No one,” Harry said sadly. “This was my first home.”

“As it was mine,” Godric said with a smile, seemingly understanding that although what happened here haunted Harry, it was still the one place he’d likely ever been truly happy in his life. “I’m surprised it is still here and will be for another thousand years.”

Harry nodded his agreement and idly wondered how it came into his parents’ possession.

“It is yours, Harry,” Godric murmured as he climbed off his horse. “I have no intention of ever living here again, and nor do my children. It should belong to you.”

“Me?”

“I expect it would’ve been yours anyway,” the man pointed out. “Whether you choose to come back here or not, you should have it. It is the one thing I can give you that once belonged to them, and I hope it brings you a semblance of closeness and peace.”

Harry was touched by the sentiment, and as he climbed off his horse, Godric clapped him on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered gratefully.

“You’re very welcome, lad.”