Disclaimer: HP does not belong to me, just the idea I used on the characters… all recognizable things are Rowlings

Information: AU-Sorting, takes place in HP1. Reincarnation-fic!

To all that send me ideas for pranks: THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

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WHY TO SORT A STUDENT IS A HORRIBLE JOB

A NECROMANCER'S CASE – THE IRRITATION

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Something was wrong.

Something was absolutely wrong – and Hermione, for all her ability to research and to understand things way beyond her age, was stumped.

It all had started when she had gotten to know Harry.

When she had met him, when she had gotten him as a friend, she had soon noticed that he was far different than any other child she had ever met before.

He was nice.

He was efficient, intelligent and mature.

She had to admit, he was cool.

And, well, quirky.

When he had introduced himself, she had thought he was joking.

Salazar Slytherin.

She hadn't been happy that he tried to make her the butt of a joke.

"I'm quite sure your name isn't Salazar Slytherin," she had said coolly. "The Slytherin name has died out centuries ago and there was no one named after the founder for a lot longer than that."

Of course, his real name had been a surprise.

She had all read about him.

Nevertheless, getting to know him was an experience on itself.

He was just so… different.

And Hermione cherished him because of it.

Nevertheless, calling him by the name he had taken as his own wasn't something she could do – no matter that Neville and later the twins followed his lead and did it.

It was when she met Theodore and he had just shrugged and told her it didn't matter, if Harry wanted to be called Salazar, then he would do it, that Hermione had actively started to ponder on Harry's reason.

But… Salazar wasn't his name.

He had no reason to wish and change his name into such a disreputable one, bound to history, betrayal, darkness and the embodiment of evil.

It went against everything she had ever known, everything she could accept.

So, she had dismissed it.

Harry was a classmate. He worked with her on homework, learned with her in the library and while he could explain better than anybody else, he was still treated the same by the teachers than anybody else.

"Well," Hermione amended mentally. "Mostly the same."

Flittwick was a bit more lenient towards him.

Sprout never called on him if there was anybody else to ask.

And Snape… well, he was odd all around where Harry was concerned…

Nevertheless, Hermione argued with herself, that meant nothing.

He wasn't dark.

He wasn't evil.

Harry was Harry – no matter his joke about being called Salazar or not.

So, Hermione had ignored the idea of calling Harry by the name he had taken as his own and continued to use his real, given name.

"You know," Neville said watching her ponder about Harry. "Ignoring everything that's different with Sa'zu doesn't change the fact that it still exists."

Hermione threw Neville an annoyed look.

"So, what shall I do then?" she countered. "Stuck myself in armours and act as if I was his vassal?"

Neville looked at her in amusement.

"I'm not his vassal," he said. "I'm not following his every whim – and it was my decision to go and turn into a look-out for him."

Before Hermione could say anything else, she was stopped by the feeling of something overwhelming and oppressive in the air.

Neville next to her, stopped as well.

"Huh," he said slowly. "That doesn't sound good."

Hermione threw him a look.

"What exactly are you talking about?" she asked. "What's happening?"

"Don't you hear it?" Neville looked at her as if she was mad.

"Hear what?" Hermione asked confused.

"The humming of the wards," Neville said. "They're… threatening."

"They're wards," Hermione countered and rolled her eyes. "They just are. They can't be threatening or something like that."

Neville snorted. "Wards are powered by their caster. A ward smith's wards are bound to a ward's smith's magic which he poured into the wards while casting them. They are powerful wards, but they are just wards, like you said." Neville gestured around them. "But Hogwarts? They're a dryhtenweard's wards – and a dryhtenweard is bound to their wards until they die. Their wards are powered by their emotions, by their will and their power. If a dryhtenweard is furious, everyone will feel it."

"A… dryhten…weard," Hermione slowly repeated.

Neville shrugged. "Grandmother talked about them," he said. "Though I didn't expect to ever meet one. The abilities of a dryhtenweard are… discouraged in this day and age. It's been a while that one existed."

Then he frowned. "But I guess that explains it. If you looked at history, I guess, Sa'zu is exactly that person that might be one of the more powerful dryhtenweardas. At least, I shouldn't even be surprised that he is one considering what we knew about him before we met him."

"What? That he survived You-Know-Who trying to kill him?" Hermione asked confused.

Neville blinked. "Well, I was actually more talking about the fact that he burned down a village once, but surviving You-Know-Who is certainly also another point that could have told us that something was iffy about him."

"Harry never burned down a village!" Hermione objected horrified.

"Did he actually tell you that?" Neville asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"No! But he didn't need to! He's eleven and he grew up muggle!"

"Well, if he didn't tell you that he didn't do it, then I'd go with guilty until proven innocent in Sa'zu's case," Neville said decisively. "I wouldn't want to insult him by naming him innocent, after all."

"Insult him by naming him innocent?" Hermione repeated disbelievingly. "Are you mad, Neville? Harry is eleven, he's–!"

"A dryhtenweard," Neville interrupted her calmly. "I'm pretty sure, those people are a class by themselves and I really don't want to insult one of them – even if the one is Sa'zu."

Then he nodded to himself and then looked up towards the wards again. "And if we're already at it, I think that some other people might need a warning or two about that furious dryhtenweard in our midst." He hesitated. "If the warning won't be already late, that is."

And with that, he turned around and towards the castle.

"Neville! Where are you going, Neville?" Hermione hurried after the other boy.

"I was considering writing a letter or two," Neville replied. "At least Gran might want to know that Hogwarts is a bit less undefended than she thought until now."

With those words he hurried towards the castle entrance, ignoring Hermione's questions when she called after him to explain himself.

The last thing that Hermione saw of him was him stepping over the threshold and into the castle itself. A moment later, Hermione passed the threshold as well – just to end up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with Neville nowhere to be seen.

"What?" she asked confused and looked around, before turning back and stepping out of the door again – just to end up in their Charms' classroom instead off outside Hogwarts.

Hermione groaned. "Not another prank."

She had endured several pranks already, she wasn't keen on enduring another…

Though, something felt different this time around. When Hermione stepped out of the Charms classroom again and ended up in the Transfiguration classroom instead, she had to admit, that the other pranks had had something lighthearted – this one, though, didn't. It felt, for the lack of a better word, dark and slightly malicious, as if someone had poured their wrath into it and made the inhabitants of Hogwarts suffer for it.

She shivered and stepped through the door again, just to end up somewhere else entirely. There was no rhyme or reason to be found, no trick, just the door opening to another room, without care where she wanted to be or needed to be at all.

Before that, the pranks had had a leading quality to them, an aspect that promised safety and a goal. That aspect was now missing. Instead, it felt like the spell was twisted, deliberately leading her astray instead of guiding her to an unknown goal. There was something cold to it, something that wasn't aimed against her but also wasn't there to keep her safe.

It was weird, and frightening, like a security blanket that had always been there, hidden in the magic of the pranks, was suddenly missing, leaving her with a prank that might not be deliberately out to hurt her, but also might not be deliberately keeping her safe, either.

That last thought was chilling.

Whatever happened, apparently the prankster of Hogwarts had done something different this time around – and Hermione was quite sure she didn't like it.

"The moment I find someone else, I'm going to cling to them until it's over," she decided with a shiver. "There's safety in numbers, after all." And Hermione really didn't care who she found – Slytherin, Gryffindor, pure-blood supremacist or whatever. She would cling to them and if she had to use her wand to spell herself to their robes the moment she found them.

With that thought and another shiver, Hermione stepped back through the door in the hopes of finding someone else in the next room she stepped into.

Theodore Nott hummed nearly silently while he walked next to his fellow Slytherin down the hall.

"Are you sure we will be on time for Transfiguration?" he asked the other boy when they hopped through another black-hole-like looking portal that filled up the whole archway in the middle of the third-floor corridor. The moment they stepped through, they ended up in the entrance hall.

"We will," the other Slytherin boy told Theodore unconcerned. He simply kept walking even though he was now walking towards the entrance doors of Hogwarts instead of towards the Transfiguration classroom. Not, that they had been walking towards the Transfiguration classroom while they had been walking along the third-floor corridor.

"Oh," Theodore said. "Alright, then." With that, he followed his fellow Slytherin towards the entrance door. From the portal of the archway towards the dungeons emerged a few confused looking Ravenclaws that seemed to be looking for the library.

Theodore ignored them and instead hurried up to keep up with the dark-haired blood mage he had been following down the corridors.

Said blood mage pushed open the entrance door and stepped through another portal. Theo sped up to step through the portal at the same time as his fellow Slytherin. For all that Theo knew, he'd end up separated from the other boy if he stepped through the portal too late, after all.

With another step, they were whisked away.

This time, when they emerged, they ended up at the bottom to the Astronomy Tower.

"I hate those stairs," Theo complained, but still started to climb them along the other boy. For a brief moment, Theodore wondered how many other students would be on time for Transfiguration. Theo was more than aware that his chances were a lot better than the chances of the others to reach his classrooms on time. The Potter boy always found his way, unhindered by any prank.

"Hey, Potter," Theo called out to the other Slytherin who was climbing the stairs in front of him. "Do you think McGonagall will be punctual, today?"

"She'd be a bad example of a teacher if she was late," Potter replied unconcerned, as if he expected McGonagall or any other teacher not being hindered by the portals that had sprung up all over the castle's doorways and archways and that led anywhere else but where the doorway or archway had led before.

"That's not what I wanted to imply," Theo mumbled to himself but didn't even try to object to Potter's assessment otherwise. For all Theo knew, it were just the students who were affected by the current prank.

Well, all the students except of Potter.

Not that Potter wasn't walking through the portals at seemingly random. It was more that Potter seemed to know where he had to go.

They reached the end of the stairs. Potter reached for the door to the tower and opened it. Immediately, Theo sped up and barely managed to step through the door at the same time as his fellow Slytherin.

They ended up in the kitchen.

More than one elf looked up from their work when they stepped out of their storage room and into the kitchen proper.

"Shouldn't master be teaching right now?" one of the elves asked, stopping their work just to turn and glare at Potter.

"I'm going to school right now," Potter corrected the elf immediately. "We're on our way to Transfiguration."

The elf's eyes narrowed.

"Missy Ravenclaw doesn't like it when Master teaches transfiguration," the elf said matter-of-factly.

Potter waved it off. "I'm learning it, not teaching it," he corrected the elf.

"Master… is learning transfiguration?" the elf scoffed. "Master has been transfiguring things left, right and centre since long before Cookie was born. Cookie doubts that Master needs to learn anything about transfiguration from Missy McGonagall. Master should teach instead. Students need a good teacher."

"I'm a student right now," Potter countered. "By the decree of the other teachers, I have to go to class with the other students of this school."

"Master is wasting his time in class," the elf – Cookie – immediately objected. "Master has better things to do than going to class."

"That's true," Potter agreed. "I could–"

"Master should teach," Cookie interrupted him before Potter could come up with some inane idea about what he could do with his time if he wouldn't go to class. "Hoggywartsie needs good teachers and Master has always been one of the best." The elf interrupted itself to look thoughtfully at Potter. "Maybe Master was also one of the most disruptive ones, definitely one of the more violent ones if he had to and maybe Master was always a bit of one of the more insane ones, but he was still always one of the best."

"Hey!" Potter glared at the elf.

"Does Master want to object that Cookie called him disruptive or does he want to object that he's one of the more violent ones?" the elf asked sweetly.

For a moment, Potter actually pouted, then he shrugged. "I guess I can't object to either," he said, suddenly cheerful again.

"So, Master agrees that he's wasting his time and should go teaching instead?" Cookie immediately inquired.

Potter raised an eyebrow at that. "While I can't contradict the wasting time bit, I have to remind you that I look eleven right now, Cookie," he countered.

The elf just looked him up and down. "Cookie can see no real difference with Master's height compared to before," the elf countered dismissively. "Height or lack of height has never stopped Master before, so why should it do it now?"

Theo slowly got the idea that either the elf was currently confusing Potter with someone else – or that something fishy was going on with Potter. Well, Theo had known that there was something fishy about Potter since the beginning of the year, but slowly and surely he got the impression that it was more than just Potter being a weird Slytherin and a blood mage.

Nevertheless, there were more important things to think about right now than the weirdness that was Potter.

"We're going to be late to Transfiguration, Potter, if we don't leave now," Theo reminded the other boy – which sadly just set off the elf again.

"Master is not teaching Transfigurations!" Cookie exclaimed. "Cookie wants to stay alive!"

"I never killed anyone when I taught transfigurations!" Potter immediately objected.

The elf just scoffed.

"Cookie has heard the stories of the last time you taught transfiguring anything into anything," the elf said. "Master stood by while his students nearly blew up the castle."

"I had it under control and it would have been a learning experience," Potter dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It also wouldn't have blown up the castle. It would have just taken down a wall or two. Hogwarts would have survived that – it survived worse, after all."

Theo wondered horrified how you could mess up a transfiguration spell that much that it would have blown up a wall or two if it hadn't been contained somehow.

"Cookie is not listening," the elf countered. "Master is clearly lying and Cookie will go to Missy Ravenclaw and rat Master out if Master just thinks about teaching Transfigurations."

"Master is teaching Potions whenever he has time between going to class," Potter corrected the elf with a sigh. "And Master has no time or desire to teach Transfigurations."

The elf looked at him sceptically. "Master has always had time for things that disrupt classes and cause chaos, so why should Cookie believe Master now that he doesn't have time for classes nor desire to cause chaos by teaching Transfigurations?"

Potter glared at the elf.

"Cookie's got you there, Sa'zu," his hat commented in that moment. "You're usually for everything that causes as much havoc as possible."

"As long as it doesn't deprive the students of learning things they need," Potter objected while at the same time agreeing with his hat.

"True," the hat said. "Though I can see why Cookie sees potential danger in this case. I mean, you certainly know enough Transfiguration to teach students, but we both know that you'd see it as a way to create chaos on top of it."

"That, too," Potter agreed slightly amused. "But not today."

"Master has always relished in chaos and never had any interest in censuring himself no matter what," Cookie countered. "So why should Cookie believe Master has no interest in causing chaos?"

For a moment, Potter was silent. Then, he took a deep breath.

"Because I'm furious right now," he said cheerfully.

Around them, the house-elves froze and turned to look at Potter. Cookie took a step back, her big eyes nearly plopping out of her head.

"Does… does Master plan on doing something with his fury?" Cookie asked concerned.

Theo looked at Potter thoughtfully. The other boy didn't look at all furious, but the way the elves were now looking at him Theo was sure that they at least believed Potter when he said he was furious.

"I might," Potter said. "And I might already have done something, too." The elves exchanged glances at that. Potter shrugged dismissively. "But it doesn't affect you."

At that, Cookie nodded decisively. The other elves did the same and then turned back to their tasks, as if Potter's assurance was enough for them to relax again.

"We have to go, Potter," Theo reminded the other boy, not too sure what to think about the boy now that he had seen the reaction of the elves around them.

Cookie, to Theo's surprise, nodded as if agreeing with him. "Master should go now," the elf said decisively. "If Master's friend keeps Master in line, then Master may go and teach Transfigurations. A bit of chaos, Hogwarts will survive, Master's fury, it might not."

"If you'd be so kind to alert se Brocc, Cookie, then I'm more than willing to keep my end of the bargain," Potter's hat said.

"Peevesie doesn't need to be alerted to anything," Potter immediately objected. "She's no better than me, after all."

"She's less destructive," Potter's hat countered with a sigh. "And that's something at least."

"Cookie will alert se Brocc," the house-elf agreed. "And Master's friend will look after Master, Cookie thinks that deal is a good one." The elf nodded and popped away.

Potter sighed and then shook his head.

"That deal will be hard to keep, gúþwine," Potter coolly. "Considering that I'm still furious about the way other people stick their noses into my school."

"I never promised to keep you from acting on your wrath," the hat said dismissively. "I just promised Cookie to keep you from bringing Hogwarts down around us – something that I will be easily able to do since you really don't want to bring down Hogwarts around us yourself."

Potter crooked his head thoughtfully. "True," he agreed.

"Potter," Theo reminded the other boy again. "Transfigurations."

Potter turned to look at him, then he nodded slowly. "Ah, yes," he said. "Of course." With that, he turned back towards the door and Theo hurried after the other boy, barely catching up to him before Potter crossed the threshold.

Something had changed at Hogwarts.

Marcus Flint was eying the darkened sky outside with trepidation. The wards surrounding Hogwarts seemed to hum with an energy – a fury – that they hadn't had before. But that wasn't all. Hogwarts had – seemingly over night – turned into a labyrinth, apparently intending to swallow them all whole the moment they left one room for another.

It was a daunting experience. Even just walking through a door one after another might mean that you'd end up in totally different locations.

It also meant that the older students had started to grab one of the younger ones when they saw them looking lost and taking them with them whenever they stepped through another door.

At least, as long as the younger student in question didn't refuse outright.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Slytherin!" The small, red-haired Gryffindor actually growled at Marcus. Marcus frowned at the boy.

"Weasley," he said slowly, not sure what the boy's first name was but sure that it was the youngest Weasley boy at Hogwarts – that hair and the freckles a dead give-away. "If you don't walk through that door with me, I can't guarantee where you end up."

"As if you'd help me, slimy Slytherin!" the boy spat.

Marcus frowned. "Listen, Firstie," he said. "Houses have nothing to do with this. I really don't care if you're a Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff or a Slytherin like me. This is beyond Houses."

"As if!" Weasley immediately countered. "It's always about Houses!"

"Well, this time it's about survival," Marcus objected and reached for the boy in front of him. "And as much as you'd like to keep your bias, we really have to leave here – and I'm definitely not letting you walk out of that door alone – who knows where'll you end up next, after all!"

"Nowhere near you!" the boy snarled.

"Well, you'd be right with that, which is why I'm telling you that we're going to leave together so that I know you're safe after leaving here!" Marcus glared at the stubborn Gryffindor boy.

"I'm safer if I'm not anywhere near you, you slimy snake!" the boy screamed.

This time, Marcus pinched his nose.

"Listen, Firstie," he finally said. "We're currently standing in Professor Snape's private lab. The moment he comes through that door–" He pointed at the door right behind them. "–and sees us there, he will kill us, no questions asked. We have to leave right now, alright? But! You're coming with me. I'm not going to be killed because I didn't look out for you and you ended up somewhere worse because of that. I'm a Slytherin, I have survival instincts. So, you're going to grab my hand now and then you'll step through that door at the same time as I. The moment I deem the other side safe, we can talk about splitting up again, but until then, you're with me! Do you understand that, Firstie?"

"No!"

Well, Marcus had tried. He reached for the Firstie and grabbed his hand. The boy immediately tried to get free again.

"Damn it, kid, you're like a toddler," Marcus complained and tightened his grip on the boy before dragging him towards the door.

Weasley planted his feet on the ground, but thankfully, Marcus was stronger. He dragged the boy with him through the door.

Of course, the moment they had passed the door, they were in even a worse position than before.

"Lemme go!" the boy screamed, but Marcus ignored him.

"We're definitely leaving from here," he said instead and eyed the negligee hanging on the cabinet door. He really didn't want to know which perfect's or teacher's bedroom they'd just entered.

Marcus turned around, just to look into the wide eyes of another first year girl – a Gryffindor with bushy hair.

She stared at them.

Marcus sighed.

"Alright, Firstie," he addressed the girl. "Take a hold of my arm, we're leaving together."

"Run, Hermione!" the boy screamed. "That slimy snake just wants to kidnap us!"

"Don't be stupid, Ron," the girl immediately countered and rolled her eyes. "He's not kidnapping us."

Well, at least that Gryffindor actually had brains.

"I'm just going to stay with you until we're somewhere safe," Marcus agreed. Because being in Snape's private lab or being in a private bedroom wasn't safe at all – especially this time around.

Unlike the last pranks, this one had something malicious to it. It felt dark, like it didn't care about the students the way the other pranks had before. It didn't seem to exist to guide them somewhere for something fun or some such, instead, it seemed to exist to confuse them, to lead them astray in a way no other prank this year had done before.

Marcus didn't like the thought that the amusing fun the pranks had brought this year was now turned into something far more sinister…

"We're far safer without you, you slimy Slytherin!" Weasley exclaimed in that moment.

"Ronald!" the girl, Hermione, reprimanded the boy immediately. "Don't be stupid! He doesn't plan to hurt us!"

"He's acting as if we'd just be safe with him! We aren't, we…"

"Something is wrong with that prank, Ronald!" Hermione countered icily. "This isn't fun! I've been lost in the school for more than an hour now, that's unlike any other prank before!"

"There's something malicious to this prank," Marcus agreed darkly.

"Neville said something about someone controlling the wards being furious," the Gryffindor girl said with a frown. "I didn't exactly understand what he was talking about, but he sounded concerned."

"Wards don't mirror their master's emotions," Marcus objected immediately.

The girl's frown just deepened.

"He said that wards cast by a ward smith don't mirror a caster's feeling. Wards tied to a dri…weird? do?"

"Driweird?" Marcus repeated confused.

The girl shrugged. "Neville said that they haven't existed in years or centuries or whatever."

Marcus shook his head. He had no idea what the girl was talking about. Wards tied to a caster was something he was sure had never come up. It was certainly something that didn't happen anymore – at least not since they had started to restrict the magic people learned and blood magic as well as other dark magicks…

At that thought, Marcus froze.

Hogwarts was known as one of the lightest establishments in all of Britain, but…

"You're talking about a dryhtenweard," Marcus said, feeling like his blood had suddenly frozen in his veins.

The Gryffindor girl frowned at him. "How do you know that word?" she asked. "And how does Neville know that word? Why do you know about… dryweards or whatever and I don't?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Is this some pure-blood thing that we don't learn?"

Marcus winced. "No," he said. "At least I don't think so? I mean, it's… there's… there are some children stories about dryhtenweardas. I mean, not stories like those fairy tales from Beedle the Bard, but darker fairy tales – old enough that we don't even know the author of those tales anymore."

"So, we muggleborns have no chance to learn about them?" the Gryffindor girl asked with a frown.

"There's a book with those fairy tales in the library," Marcus replied. "Most students just aren't interested in those tales. They are dark, after all. A lot of deaths, a lot of gruesome happenstances." He grimaced. "And the dryhtenweardas aren't depicted as one of the friendliest people. According to those stories, dryhtenweardas shouldn't be crossed."

Marcus shook his head. "Anyway, stories about ancient mages or not, we should stop lingering before we end up as potion ingredients."

The Gryffindor girl looked around and winced.

"You're right," she agreed.

Weasley just scowled. "He's going to–"

"Cut it out, Ron," Hermione interrupted him irritated and then held out a hand towards Marcus. "Mr Flint is right. We're far safer if we stay together."

The boy scowled some more, but in the end, grudgingly held out a hand towards Marcus as well. Marcus took their hands and the girl reopened the door. Taking a deep breath, they stepped through, hoping for the best, but fearing the worst of what would be behind this door…

There was darkness in the air. Dark swirls streaked the air surrounding the castle. Whispers filled the air, an eerie hum, barely understandable and yet, so dark people shuddered when they heard them.

For the first time, in a long time, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry felt more like a haunted house than a school.

The grounds and castle looked forbidding in a way that threatened darkness and murder.

"What happened to the school?" Augusta Longbottom asked, her eyes fixated on the school in front of her. Her hand was stretched out towards the gates, but the sizzling wards of the castle refused her the ability to touch them.

"The Potter boy," Malfoy growled. "Dumbledore promised to talk to the brat, but it seems as if he is his usual doddery self and hasn't done anything."

"Are you really faulting an eleven-year-old for that?" Theodoric Nott asked and gestured towards the dark swirls that surrounded the castle itself.

"Who else should have done that?" Malfoy asked and glared at Nott.

"Anybody else," Augusta Longbottom pointed out. "We're talking about powerful and maybe dark magic and an eleven-year-old child."

"Oh," Nott said amused. "That's definitely dark magic right there. Might even be the darkest I have seen in a while."

With that, he reached out and pressed his hand against the gates. The wards flashed golden, and Theodoric Nott hummed thoughtfully.

"Ah, yes, the power of a dryhtenweard," he said, his amusement apparent on his face. "I heard about it before, but I fear I have never seen a dryhtenweard as powerful as that one."

He shook his head. "He's not going to let us in."

"Oh, he might, if I ask him," Nott turned back towards the gates. There was a young woman in yellow and black standing there. Her eyes were the clearest blue he had ever seen and she was looking at them with a thoughtful expression on her face. She leaned on the gates. "It's just questionable if I will." She crooked her head. "Tell me, what reason do you have to visit Hogwarts?"

"You have no reason to question us about us being here," Malfoy immediately told the young woman. "You're a student. You have no say about anything."

The answer was a pearly laugh.

"I am se Brocc," she said. "It's se Hræfn, séo Léo or I who can request your entrance with se Áttorsceaða. If you want to enter this school, you have to reason with me. Se Hræfn won't listen. She doesn't like you. Séo Léo might listen, but he won't be interested in helping you. And se Áttorsceaða? He will kill you if you enter without the blessing of anyone of us."

Malfoy scoffed, but Augusta Longbottom looked at the young woman sharply.

"Old English?" she asked.

The young woman put her hand on the gate and closed her fingers around one of the bars.

"It is," she agreed and smirked at Augusta. "I grew up speaking it." Her eyes were cold when she said that even though she was still smirking, then she turned her head and looked at Malfoy with icy eyes. "And I'm sure you don't want to taunt me. You won't like it if I do."

Augusta Longbottom raised an eyebrow at the reprimand. "You said you are se Brocc," she said slowly. "You said it as if it should mean something when you say it."

"It does," the young woman answered and crooked her head thoughtfully. "But it might mean less to you, young Gryffindor."

Before any of the Govenours could comment on her last words, a boy stepped up next to the girl. He was wearing green and silver and raised his eyebrow at the girl.

"Are you taunting our guests, Peeves?" he asked and then his eyes swept over the crowd in front of the gates.

"Are they our guests, Sa'zu?" she countered. Theodore Nott looked from the girl to the boy full of interest.

"Potter," Malfoy snarled and immediately, the other Govenours' also settled their eyes on the boy. "Let us in!"

The young woman scoffed. "I told you, se Áttorsceaða won't let you in. It will be se Hræfn, séo Léo or I who will consider speaking up for you so that you can get in."

"Áttorsceaða?" the boy repeated amused. "Not se Wyrm?"

At that, Augusta Longbottom froze.

"Se Wyrm," she repeated slowly. "Are you saying that word meaning 'snake' or are you saying it meaning 'dragon'?"

The boy looked at Augusta Longbottom with a raised eyebrow, but it was his hat that answered.

"It depends on what you want to take from its meaning," the hat said. "Wyrm can mean dragon and it can mean snake, though I usually used 'Næfre Ċitela an Slæpinge Áttorsceaða' instead of Næfre Ċitela an Slæpinge Wyrm' when I meant to say 'Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus'."

"Gúþwine," the boy reached up and flicked his head with his finger, there was a hidden reprimand in his voice.

"It's only fair to warn them," the hat countered. "I know that se Brocc and you want to watch them falter and fail, but I think that we should at least warn them before they dare to touch a dryhtenweard's home, Sa'zu."

The boy scoffed. "I think I have been lenient enough," he countered. "They are the ones who dared to try and rule the school even though there was no reason for them to lay hands on it."

"Without us, Hogwarts would be closed, brat!" Lucius Malfoy countered furiously.

"Hogwarts is self-sufficient when it comes to food – and it has its own coffers when it comes to everything else," the young woman countered with a shrug. "We handed the whole money issue over to se Hræfn years ago. For her, money is just numbers – and she's always been exceptionally when it comes to multiplying numbers. Hogwarts' coffers have been under her careful purview ever since. Se Hræfn would have told us if there was an issue with them."

"Well…," the hat said slowly. "She definitely would have if the coffers were a lot emptier as they should have been – but if people forgot to remove money from the coffers for Hogwarts' upkeep… I doubt that she would have noticed."

The boy and the girl froze and then looked at each other thoughtfully.

Then the boy shrugged. "That doesn't matter," he said. "She's not responsible for using the money. She's just responsible for multiplying it. It's not her fault or ours if people forgot to actually use it."

"True," the young woman agreed and then flashed her teeth at them. "And that also means that she's in no way responsible for the dumbness of wizards. I for one don't care if you went and tried to buy a part of Hogwarts by gifting money to it."

"Hogwarts doesn't need you," the boy agreed. "It never needed you. It has us – se Brocc, se Hræfn, séo Léo and se Áttorsceaða." He scrutinized the Governours of Hogwarts. His eyes were a burning silver. "So please, explain to me – why should I let you in?"

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Explanation:

gúþwine - old English for 'Comrade in war'

dryhtenweard – guardian, lord, king

dryhtenweardas – plural dryhtenweard

'Næfre Ċitela an Slæpinge Áttorsceaða' – 'Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus' – 'Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon'.

Se brocc – the badger

se Áttorsceaða - a poisonous destroyer a venomous dragon serpent hostis venenosus

se Wyrm - 1. any crawling animal; especially: 2. worm 3. maggot; grub 4. reptile; especially a snake 5. Dragon

séo Léo – the lion

se hræfn – the raven

...

So, that's it for today. I'm sorry it took me so long. I was busy in RL, final exams, studying and all that. *sigh*

'Till next time.

Ebenbild