Harry Potter and The End of the Dark Lord
The soft patter of the rain drops were and easy distraction in the silence that had stretched out to an almost uncomfortable amount of time. The four founders of what would be called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry upon its completion sat in silence, waiting for their guest to begin the meeting.
Outside of the magically enhanced tent, were the grounds of the future Hogwarts castle. One could argue the grounds of the current Hogwarts castle, unfinished as it may be. The foundation and lower two levels of the castle were almost complete. They estimated perhaps another nine months to a year to completely finish the castle itself. It would take an additional three years of pouring their combined magic into the building itself, that would make it the sentient being the students will come to admire and gape at.
Tonight, October 31 of the year nine hundred and ninety-six, was rather dreary. The past week had seen the skies shrouded with hideously dark rain clouds. They were ever lucky to receive a brief respite from the rain two days prior. Taking advantage of the slight change in weather, the four founders set outside to take a break from the tedious task of casting the same spells over and over again, to build the castle, essentially, brick by brick.
During this brief outing, Salazar's exquisite hearing almost ended the life of their would-be guest. Even at this time, Salazar had been extremely, jumpy, mayhap even the word paranoid could be used, and unexpected interruptions were not something he took lightly.
Godric's quick reflexes stayed the hand of his life long friend before he could let loose a curse, which may or may not be lethal but would surely end this good fellow's story before it had been told. He had but a simple message at the time. He was there to request a meeting between the four and himself on Halloween night. "And it must be on All Hallow's Eve." He had said. "If you will not meet me then, there will be no reason for us to meet.
Cordai was his name, pronounced core-die. Cordai stirred in his seat and waved his hand casually in front of himself. The simple gesture startled, actually startled, the four founders, as before their eyes a table grew from the ground and appeared to be made of the roots from the trees not far beyond the tent.
The aged man, Cordai, smirked for a second before addressing his audience. "Is something the matter?" He asked his voice not hiding his amusement in the least. He knew very well that these four were considered the most powerful witches and wizards to walk the face of the earth as of yet. Yet here he was, someone new to, well, let's just say new to here, using magic with a casual grace that didn't seem feasible.
If credit were to be given, it definitely went to the quartet opposite of the newly 'grown' table. Mild looks of shock were fleeting at best and had the old man not known what to expect when he performed his little trick, he would have thought he imagined the flickers he saw in their eyes.
Salazar raised an eyebrow slightly and sent a look at his friends that clearly said he was slightly impressed.
Cordai continued on, ignoring his own unanswered question. "I shall cut the theatrics short this evening. As I am sure you're aware, what I just did should have been impossible. Casting magic with such ease, no incantation, and manipulating the elements in the soil to do by bidding, has never been done before. Let me ask you a simple question. The question is directed at each of you individually, and I would appreciate honest answers in a prompt manner."
Salazar's raised eyebrow was now accompanied by a sneer that his friends would one day associate with the Dark Lord Slytherin. "Who are you to command us so? You come to us on our ground, require us to meet you on a certain date, and give us no information about yourself. We have no reason to trust you or do anything you ask of us; much less anything you would demand of us.
"My friends may be willing to sit here and allow you to disrespect us as you were, but I am not. Impressive magic you possess, this I admit, but I will not be disrespected by the likes of you. Tell us what you have come to say and be gone. I warn you not to try my patience old man. I do not suffer fools, even powerful ones."
Godric rose from his seat in the tent as Salazar retook his seat regally. He wasn't the least surprised to see the Sai across from them taking Salazar's tirade in stride. Sighing slightly to himself, and wishing his brother would keep his temper, he cleared his throat and addressed the Sai across the table.
"Pardon my brother, Sai. He has little tolerance for theatrics and games anymore and sometimes his mouth gets ahead of him." He ignored the dark look Salazar sent his way. "While his mouth may have gotten away from him, he does have a few valid points. We have been most accommodating to you so far, have we not?"
"You have," Cordai agreed, still taking the whole conversation in stride, much the way the two females across from him had done so far.
"Then perhaps you would be willing to accommodate us for the time being. If we are to meet as civilized men and women perhaps we best start with introducing ourselves. I doubt very much that you need us to introduce ourselves since you sought us out and are the….well, let's just say, instigator of this situation."
"Very well," Cordai sighed, rising from his chair. "You are Godric Gryffindor of England, your dark haired friend is Salazar Slytherin of Scotland, more specifically of Loch Leven as he so humbly stated. The two beautiful women next to you are the Baroness Rowena Ravenclaw and her good friend Helga Hufflepuff, also both of England.
"As for whom I am, my name is Cordai as I have said before. I have no nationality per se, or even belong to this earth, if truth be told. I am nothing but a messenger."
"A messenger capable of impressive magics, I might say," Gryffindor mumbled slightly.
"Aye, Sai Gryffindor. Impressive magics and in the possession of someone as lowly as a mere messenger." He added the last to make a point, and it was understood by all, especially Slytherin.
If all was as Cordai said, and he was nothing but a mere messenger, then how powerful would the entity be for which he carried the message. Gryffindor believed Cordai when he claimed to be a messenger but subconsciously he knew that he was more than a mere messenger. This was just one of his duties but certainly not the only thing he does, wherever he comes from.
"Now, I'm afraid that these trivialities have taken a great deal of the amount of time I have available to me. While that really doesn't affect me in the least it shall make your job a little harder as I will not be around to answer any questions you have."
Cordai retook his seat and with a nod at the table separating them, a book materialized in front of his four….apprentices? No, not exactly the right term but it would suffice.
"I shall leave this book with you. You must all read and understand it very well. In time, the rest shall become clear. I ask you to listen to your instincts and listen very well. I will now ask the question I began to ask again.
"Have you noticed the ease of which you four command magic compared to others you have known? Surely you must have. You four are considered to be some of the most talented magical folk to walk the earth.
"Not to 'toot your horn' or anything, but this is essentially correct. You are the first of your kind. The book will go into the details, but you are have a control over magic that none before you have had and only a handful after your time shall have the same control. There are nine of you to be exact. Nine... well lets call you gifted for the time being as assigning a name to adequately describe you would take time I don't have.
"I only ask this of you, and I have no doubt that you can do it, I ask of you to make sure this tome will remain safe until the time when the fifth of you shall walk the earth. Make it safe for Wendelin, she is alive but has yet to notice the distinct difference between her powers and that of everyone else. She will….make herself known," Cordai stated with a grin. "When she discovers her talents. It will not be hard to find her I trust."
As if it were rehearsed, and very well may have been, the final word 'creation' caused Cordai to disappear from the tent. No cracking sound of apparition, no distinct magical spikes, he was just gone, leaving behind the tree root table and two inch thick tome resting on it.
After exchanging disbelieving, or in Salazar's case, disgruntled looks, the four magicians moved to the table, two per side, and opened the book. The title on the inside cover of the tome was Sortiari. Though it was unknown by them at the time, the simple act of opening the book created the world's most feared Dark Lord and began the process of creating his downfall.
On behalf of the three remaining founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Salazar Slytherin having been slain by his one time brother Godric Gryffindor, Godric sits patiently awaiting for the object of his trip to make herself known. Surprisingly, Godric, one of the most powerful wizards to have walked the earth, arguably the most powerful since Merlin himself, waits for his subject amongst a crowd of muggles.
His quarry is not a muggle, that much should be self evident; however his quarry has a bad habit of turning up in rather large muggle inhabited areas. It is here, in Edinburgh, that Wendelin the Weird as she has become known will make her final appearance to the muggle world, as a human torch.
Almost amusedly Godric awaits her last burning at the stake. Number forty-seven if his memory serves, and even at the age of eighty his memory is preserved by his magic, a trait which becomes obvious amongst the other guardians.
Godric's mind flashes back to the final battle with Salazar. It had only been a short two years after the visit from the enigmatic Cordai, that Salazar turned his back against his friends, his family, and became the Dark Lord Slytherin. Salazar lay slumped over with Godric's sword sticking clean through his abdomen and out his back, and smiled at Gryffindor. It was that smile, that graced his brother's dying face, that nearly robbed Gryffindor of any sanity that remained in his head. It was the smile of a madman, someone driven to commit horrid acts of cruelty against muggles and 'muggle loving wizards.'
Salazar had spent the majority of the six months following Cordai's visit scouring page after page of the ancient tome Sortiari. He became….obsessed was the best word his friends could come to describing his behavior. He continued to build his share of the school, and unbeknownst to the rest of them, his own private chamber. Other than his rather concerning obsession with the book, nothing seemed out of place. The others couldn't quite guess what had him so obsessed with the book. They had all read it and it was intriguing yes, but more or less, instructional. It made vague references to future events but nothing they could decipher.
Upon the completion of the castle, several months ahead of their anticipated opening, due in no short part to the Sortiari, Salazar left without a word, into the night.
Smiling slightly to himself as he hears the mob approaching the town center, he stands inconspicuously amongst the muggles and waits for the show to end so he may get down to business.
A/N: This introduction will not come seem relevant to the story until about chapter 17 or so, that is when the story unfolds itself.