It all started far back...much farther than anyone would have guessed. There was a Magus who sought to overthrow the rightful king of England off their throne by introducing an heir who was basically their clone. Their name was Mordred, and for a time they were a good knight.

Mordred might have been the end product, but there were other 'heirs' before them. However they were all too feminine to properly pass as a boy, and were thus disposed of.

Except one of them survived long enough to escape and have descendants of their own.

And that is where this tale begins...with the hidden line of Pendragon and their descendants. Or to be more specific, the last living heir of the Pendragon bloodline.

When she first saw that strange knight as Nearly Headless Nick's party, she felt a strange sort of kinship with them. It was hard to tell if they were a boy or a girl, but to be honest things like that really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

So when she went into the chamber to rescue Ginny, she had no idea how to react to the fact that the knight followed her.

"Yo. So were you sent on a quest specifically or are you just that unlucky?" asked the knight with a cocky smirk.

"I would rather not have her death on my conscience since I rather like her older brothers, even if two of them are monumental prats," she replied.

She loved the twins, but Percy was just a nuisance and Ron had never struck her as someone who was loyal to the bone. More like a fair-weather friend who expected to coast to fame and glory on her coattails.

His reaction to something as harmless as snake speak was telling enough, thank you very much.

"So which time period are you from?" she asked curiously.

The knight smirked at her.

"I am Mordred, the one and true heir of Arthur Pendragon!" declared the knight proudly.

She stopped cold.

"Seriously?! I have to ask, was Merlin as he was hyped up to be? Because everyone seems to think he's like the second coming of Jesus or something with how the magical society goes on about him," she asked with open interest.

Mordred, if that really was their name, had a rather pained look on their face.

"Merlin was an asshole who got off on playing pranks and generally being a nuisance," said Mordred flatly.

"...So basically Merlin was a total troll?" she asked with open amusement. "Maybe you could tell me more about what Camelot was really like from your perspective if I live through this."

Mordred preened a bit, mostly because not once did the girl bring up their genetic donor. And because she evidently believed their claim.

What happened next was something of a blur really. She would only remember bits and pieces of it, except for the end. That part she would remember vividly to the end of her days, and then some.

She reached into the Sorting Hat, having felt something metal inside. Her hands grasped a sword and there was a slight cut on her right hand when she grabbed it.

Right hand bleeding, she felt as thought the weapon was testing her for something. What, she had no idea but it seemed very important.

She drew the sword from the hat, and considering who had followed her into the inner chamber, she couldn't help but wonder if this was how Arthur felt pulling the sword from the stone.

Ironic, considering which sword she pulled from the hat.

She could already see Mordred cringing at how bad she was at using a sword. The cut on her hand throbbed, but it wasn't as bad as some of the injuries she had over the years. Having to regrow her right arm was more annoying in all honesty.

Without it's eyes, the basilisk had a harder time finding her...but it definitely found Mordred a very annoying opponent to deal with. The knight gleefully dove right through the center of the snake, causing it to react rather violently since it was a reptile and thus hated the cold.

The throb in her arm was getting stronger, and was now starting to resonate with her entire body. It was weird, 'fighting' in tandem with the ghostly knight. Almost like it was natural for them both to fight side by side.

She hissed for a moment as the throbbing hit a crescendo...and form a strange glyph on her right hand. That glyph resonated with her very soul, and a strange circle formed just out of eyesight.

The two of them made a beeline for the circle, driven by the hope that this circle would help them defeat this pesky serpent.

The second Mordred set foot in the circle, he almost felt glued to the pattern. The second she set foot in it (which was almost the exact same moment Mordred entered it) her entire body seemed to thrum with an unknown power, one that originated from the sword in her hand.

If not for the fact her body seemed locked into place, she would have dropped the sword out of instinct, if nothing else.

The cut on her hand throbbed in time with the power coursing through her viens into her very soul and magical core. Suddenly the blood began to pool around the back of her right hand and she could feel it latch on to the nearest source for whatever this circle was meant to do.

That source was Mordred.

Suddenly the ghost became far more solid, and a wicked smirk appeared on their face as they charged at the beast. However they weren't entirely quick enough to stop the snake from pentrating her arm, causing venom to course through her blood.

Fortunately, Fawkes was very quick to donate enough tears to save her life.

Mordred looked at their solid hand with undisguised delight.

"I, Saber of Red, have answered your summoning Master," Mordred announced with a pleased look on their face.

Considering she was already suffering from exhaustion, dealing with the after effects of the venom and phoenix tears in her blood stream, never mind the abrubt "summoning" if that was what it was, it was rather understandable she was about ready to pass out.

But first she had a job to finish.

She took the sword, which looked oddly similar to the one Mordred had in their hands, and unceremoniously stabbed it right through the blasted book that caused all this mess.

Hearing Ginny gasp, she very nearly blacked out.

All she wanted right now was a proper bed, a good meal, and something to deal with her raging migraine that she had for the past fifteen minutes.

She couldn't really remember getting out of the Chamber. Just that she completely blacked out the second her head hit the pillow.

Mordred was rather appalled at the living conditions his Master had to suffer through.

After the lack of any actual concern about her well being, considering she just had a very narrow brush with death, the old man sent her straight to the most disgusting humans Mordred had the misfortune of ever coming across.

The males were all fat pigs that were an insult to the animal, and the lone female was a complete bitch of the highest order who was jealous of her sister.

"Master, why do you put up with these...creatures?" asked Mordred with open disgust.

She pouted.

"Would you quit calling me Master? I have a name you know!"

"Then what is your name?" he asked.

"Regina. Regina Iris Potter... my father was apparently a bit of a prankster who thought it would be appropriate."

Mordred mentally tallied up the initials before snickering.

"Your dad gave you the initials RIP?" Mordred said in open amusement.

Regina stuck her tongue out at them.

Mordred snorted, before manifesting.

"Ah, Regina...mind if I remove my armor? I can put it back on at a moment's notice."

"Sure," said Regina. She wanted to see whether or not Mordred really was a boy... the lack of Adam's Apple and the pitch was really throwing her off.

So she was quite surprised to see the fact that Mordred had a bust. It was a very modest one, and it was clearly being held back by a breast band to hide it, but there was definitely a pair of bumps that no boy should have unless there was a medical condition involved.

Mordred gave Regina a Look, as if daring her to comment on the fact that "he" was in fact a "she".

Regina smiled at Mordred.

"You're still a bad ass, no matter what form your body is in," she said bluntly. "Just because you have breasts and lack the proper equipment to be an actual man doesn't make you any less of a warrior or dangerous to go up again."

Something in Mordred's eyes flashed, before settling. As if she had passed an unspoken test.

"So Master, what exactly happened to the sword you pulled out of that hat?"

"I have no idea. It disappeared when I blacked out, though Dumbledore seems to think it was the Sword of Gryffindor for some reason."

"But you don't think it was, do you?"

"I don't know... it felt a lot like yours, except it was pure, clean. And when I pulled it from the hat it felt like it was testing me for something," she admitted. "It almost made me wonder if that was what Arthur felt pulling Caliburn from the stone, considering you were in the chamber with me."

Mordred stared at her, though both of them were silent upon hearing Petunia outside the door. Things had been tense since Regina returned to the house.

When the horse faced woman disappeared to the kitchen, Regina looked at Mordred with an odd expression in her eye.

"Hey Mordred, do you mind if I call you Onii-chan? It's just... I've never had an older sibling before."

Mordred gave her an odd look, before grinning.

"And I've never had a little sister before. What does Onii-chan mean anyway?"

"It means big brother of course! I've always liked languages since it was the farthest from the areas Dudley and his little gang liked to frequent, and the librarians let me use the computers to learn the proper pronunciation," said Regina brightly.

Mordred patted her on the head, and wondered if this was what having a cute little sister who looked up to you was like. Besides, he could get behind being called "big brother", even if they were biologically a girl.

Mordred wasn't very impressed with London. Admittedly, it was cleaner and smelled slightly different from what he remembered of England, but it was still just as foul.

Mordred had to grin at the slightly miffed look his 'little sister' had. After he took her to Gringotts and several gold bullion (which she converted to real cash that could be spent outside the magical alleys, since the exchange rate was just ridiculous) he forcibly dragged her shopping for a proper wardrobe.

Even he had gotten a new outfit, which was decidedly more 'risque' than anything Regina bought.

The shirt was more of a glorified breast band that barely passed as 'acceptable', and that was only because of the red jacket that Mordred had bought. The shorts were so skimpy it was a miracle Mordred wasn't flashing the entire street.

Regina had a new look of her own, though unlike Mordred she at least embraced her actual gender.

Mordred grinned at the way Regina kept swishing her new skirt. It was much shorter and had more flare than the boring one she was forced to wear as her school uniform. And her shirt, well it was far more tame than what some of the thirteen year olds were wearing. Mordred had seen prostitutes in his own time that had a proper sense of shame. The modern girls were far too eager to grow up and be adults, when he could easily recall girls having actual responsibility and not being so bitchy about it.

Having to sit through even an hour of that in the store while Regina was getting a new wardrobe was enough to make him greatly appreciate his new little sister. Though not as much as the way she discreetly waited until Mordred took out the cameras before giving them something to really bitch about, like the multiple black eyes and busted noses. She was rather grateful to that one teacher who took pity on her and put her into 'weekend detentions' when she was younger, which was really a cover for the fact she learned self-defense at the women's center every weekend for free.

Also, she got free food and the women were more than happy to show her how to properly apply make-up to hide a bruise, never mind bandage up her various wounds like sprained arms.

The self-defense class was mostly free for abuse victims, which she easily qualified.

The two of them explored London for a bit, before Regina started to get hungry. With her flush for cash, the two of them went to a foreign restaurant that looked relatively clean and much to her relief was easy on the wallet.

It was only when they went to find a place to sleep that Mordred asked again what happened to the sword she pulled from the hat. Regina had refused to elaborate, but then again her tiny room in the Dursley home was hardly a good place to show off several feel of cold steel.

Regina's hand went to her chest, where an odd pendant lay. It almost looked like a cross, except the shape was slightly off.

Mordred frowned. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear the cross around her neck was really a sword.

Regina took the odd cross off her neck...and with a little concentration (mostly by following her instincts) she channeled her magic into the sword.

Mordred very nearly threw one hell of a fit when he recognized the blade.

"What the fuck was Caliburn doing in that hat?!" he hissed in fury. Because he knew that sword.

"Onii-chan, you know this sword?" asked Regina, a little worried at the sheer anger coming off Mordred.

Mordred forcibly reigned in his temper.

His little sister wouldn't know Caliburn on sight, and she certainly never intended to draw it from a hat of all things.

"That is Caliburn, the sword Arturia pulled from the stone and was named King. It was lost a long, long time ago which is when Nimue gave them Excalibur and the sheathe known as Avalon. No one is entirely sure what happened to Caliburn, just that it vanished," said Mordred.

"...Then why did Dumbledore call it the Sword of Gryffindor?"

"He what?"

"When I told him about pulling the sword out, he made some comment about how only a true Gryffindor could call upon the sword of Godric Gryffindor at need...though he looked really disappointed when I told him I dropped in in the chamber, because I had no idea where it went between there and the hospital wing," explained Regina.

"From what I know of wizards, that sword would have been goblin made. Caliburn is classed as a holy sword and was created by the Fae, which are much older and far more competent in the art," said Mordred with a sniff.

He might be pissed at his 'father', but he could still admit that at least Caliburn was many leagues above what any goblin clan could offer in regards to weaponry.

Regina looked at Caliburn, then at Mordred. An odd expression came into her eyes.

"Can you teach me how to use this properly?"

"What?" said Mordred, just barely preventing himself from gaping at her.

"I said can you teach me how to use this sword properly? Hand to hand will only go so far, and considering my past luck at that school I refuse to go back there without some form of fighting to defend myself properly as opposed to the half-assed way I've been doing until now. If anyone would know how to use an English broadsword correctly and not look like an idiot or hold back punches because I'm a girl, then it would be a former Knight who went through the training and knows what not to do," she said sensibly.

"Just to be clear, you want me to train you in the ways of a knight. You do realize there's a reason I hid my gender, as did my 'father', right?"

"I'm half Irish on my mother's side, and I've found being a Wiccan rather freeing. The fact it ties heavily into the old Druid culture is fascinating and I know that there are several examples of women not only in power, but at the forefront of the battlefield in Celtic mythology," said Regina flatly. "And by the way, King Arthur's legend falls directly under Celtic mythology."

Mordred stared at her, before something bubbled up in his chest. It took him a few seconds to register amusement and the fact he was laughing.

He ran a hand through his hair, and grinned at her wickedly.

"Just so you know, if you want to learn how to become a proper knight there will be no backing out of it later. You'll either learn to use that sword correctly or die trying," said Mordred.

Regina's smile was as sharp as the blade in her hand.

"Hard work and pain are old friends. If it means learning something useful you'll get no arguments from me. I can take almost anything you can dish out, big brother."

Mordred and Regina shared a grin, a silent agreement passing between them.

It was strange, how the two of them just 'clicked' and fell easily into a brother/sister relationship almost like it was nothing.

The next morning Regina grit her teeth and bore the harsh stamina building regimen that Mordred put her through.

She had been through hell as a child. She would not let Mordred's old school training beat her now!