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The Time it All Began by Remus
Chapter 11 : The High King's Request
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 18

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Yeah, yeah I know. I haven’t updated. But you try to update without internet! Bah! I’ve been without internet since early January and only thanks to my sister’s stupid laptop and friends I was able to check my email and such. In fact, right now I'm at the library updating this chapter. So it has sucked. Big time. Anywho, expect updates! Yay! Because, frankly, I’m motivated to finish this fic after two years? Yeah…something like that…or is it going to three? I can’t remember. This chapter has been through a lot so I’m SO glad to get this out. I hope you like it!

Thank you to the staff for putting this fic on the home page during their anniversary! I was extremely happy!

Warning: Some issues here might not be to the liking to some people. This issue is, for those that know, the incest between King Arthur and his half-sister Morgain La Fey. So please, do not review telling me how “gross it is” or “how its not right” and yadda, yadda, yadda. If you know out of history and literature…you would know that Mordred is son of King Arthur and his half sister! Do not complain to me thank you very much!

The High King’s Request

“All right, now that we’ve settled our arguments about Kappas, I want you to open your books to page three hundred and ten and read about the dark creatures called Dementors” Harry instructed his third year students as he remembered his own third year with Remus Lupin, the person who had started his love for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He, in plain truth, had been using Lupin’s teaching methods despite of having taught the DA people previously ‘but this is different’ he thought as he strolled about the room supervising his twenty students as they read ‘In the DA, the people wished to learn practical defence because that woman would not do so. These children are barely starting to learn and it’s up to me to guide them through their lesson.’ he paused his thoughts for a moment and reflected ‘Bloody hell, teaching can be very stressful.’

“Professor Gryffindor” Arlen, a tall Ravenclaw boy with large brown eyes addressed Harry without raising his hand. Ever since Umbridge’s policy of raising hands before talking, Harry had opted to allow his students to speak freely--that is until an argument began to brew among them. If that were to happen he was required to take action and instruct the students to raise their hands before talking at least for some days in order to regain control back in his classroom “What happens when you stay close to a Dementor for a long period of time?”

“You become a soul-less human being,” Harry explained remembering the feeling of being attacked by a Dementor. “Once a person is without a soul he or she becomes will no longer know or understand warmth and happiness like you and I do.”

“So the person is dead in life?” Foy, a redhead Gryffindor that reminded Harry of Ron asked.

“Something like that.”

“Is there an easy spell to repel these things compared to the one we are reading about?” Gallia, a Hufflepuff girl, asked, rather petrified at the idea of being dead in life.

“No, I’m afraid not.” there was a collective shudder among his students.

“But what if we see ourselves being surrounded by these dementors?” Shay, Foy’s best friend, asked, “It says here that the Patronus charm is a complicated one and that only powerful witches and wizards are able to perform it.”

“Well, allow me tell you that books can sometimes be a little misleading.” Harry stated as he walked back to the front of the classroom, his blood red cloak trailing behind him. “I once met a boy your age, scrawny thing he was, who was able to perform the charm and create a corporeal Patronus defeating the many dementors that surrounded him” Harry tried his best to stop himself from laughing as he narrated a part of his life’s story. “You see, this boy set his mind to create a full fledged Patronus because his’s life, along with his life and his friends’ was in great danger.” Harry had realized around mid sentence that Godric Gryffindor, a follower of the Goddess, would not call Sirius his Godfather for that title was used by Christians.

“So you’re saying the book is lying?” Brietta, a mousy looking girl from Ravenclaw asked. “That anyone can perform the charm?”

“I don’t think the book lies Vaneth, but the professor here is.” Harry raised his eyebrow at Melania Teraveth, a mean looking Slytherin girl that reminded him of the future child of Draco Malfoy and his friend Hermione Granger if they ever--as in when hell froze for eternity--happened to get married. “I mean, no offence sir,” she added with a smirk at Harry’s serious face “but I seriously doubt that a thirteen year old boy could do such a thing.”

“No Brietta,” Harry continued without bothering to confront Melania who was narrowing her cold, grey eyes at him “I don’t think the book lies for it also tells truth. Its rather difficult for someone--let a lone a thirteen year old boy--to perform a perfect Patronus but if someone has the determination and will he or she will most likely succeed in performing a fully fledged Patronus”

“And how do we know that you’re not the lying, Sir” asked Melania; by now Harry was getting irritated at Teraveth’s cocky attitude.

Harry exhaled not bothering to hide anymore. If he had done what he had done in the past it was because of Remus Lupin‘s help and nothing more “Because I was that boy.” he replied in a mere whisper.

“You were able to perform a perfect Patronus?

“Yes.” his entire class--even Melania--was in great awe while some whispered to their neighbours in excitement of having a powerful professor teaching them. ‘I think I’m going to thank Lupin when I get back.’ he thought smiling to himself. “Yes, Shay?”

“Can you teach us?” Harry thought for a moment at the idea of teaching the Patronus Charm and grinned. If he had been able to teach people that weren’t so sure that he was telling the truth about Voldemort and succeeded, he was likely to do well teaching twenty thirteen year olds that looked up to him. However, just before Harry could answer Shay’s question, the bell rang and immediately dismissed his students not wanting them to be late to class but to his misfortune only one of them stayed behind.

“Yes, Melania?”

“Perhaps Professor Slytherin was right.” Melania said as she gathered her books and quill “You are not the same Professor Gryffindor you were last year.”


Lady Guinevere gazed out of her chamber’s tiny window and shuddered at the sight of the young knights who were practicing their sword fighting in the middle of a blizzard. It was almost the end of November and Camelot was all ready covered in a thick layer of snow that, for the Queen, appeared to cover the worlds beyond the one she only knew. Many would think that snow was one of God’s most beautiful creations. However, the High Queen of Britain believed it was one of God’s many ways of punishing the people who dared to deny Him and continued to worship the pagan devils. God, Guinevere believed, killed the young before they became wicked like their parents, denied them harvest for a long period or froze their cattle to death for a reason.

“Those who follow the pagan goddess will be punish by the hands of God” she whispered bitterly as she fastened her wide, pale-blue cloak tightly about her slender body for the continuing violent shivers made her bones ache terribly. Nevertheless, just before the Queen had the chance send one of her waiting women to feed the fire that was close to its demise she saw, from a great distance, the red flag that indicated that her husband, along with her favourite knight, was home from the North. Arthur, along with Lancelot, had left Camelot after they had obtained secret information of a surprise attack lead by the Saxons against the King of Britons.

Forgetting of the bitter cold and her aching bones Guinevere dropped the cloak she had about her and ran down to the kitchens where she found the servants sitting around the fire discussing feverishly about how the baker’s wife had given birth to a still born. Guinevere, who knew that the baker’s wife worshipped the goddess, hid a triumphant smirk. ‘If I cannot have a child of my own why should a heathen be given the chance to have a child of her own? I do not worship the heathen gods so God has punished her in His rightful way, but what have I done for Him to punish me? When the servitude realized that their Queen was standing there listening to their gossip they immediately stood from their comfortable seats in front of the fire and began their chores they had ‘forgotten’ to do. Not bothering anymore about what people were saying Guinevere instructed the head cook, a large woman that had bore many children to prepare hot wine, cook some pork and bake fresh bread to feed Arthur, Lancelot and the rest of the soldiers who had returned home

With a large smile across her pale face and not bothering to know if she was more happy of Lancelot’s return than of Arthur’s, Guinevere sent for the court’s jester to entertain the brave man while they ate. Minutes later and whether she liked it or not, Guinevere found herself in the castle’s Great Hall and in the arms of her husband. But secretly desiring she were in Lancelot’s strong arms “I’ve longed to see you, love” said Arthur as he kissed her on the lips; his shaggy beard itching badly against her delicate skin “The cold weather from the North made me wish I were with you each night.”

“That’s right, Lady” said Lancelot bowing his head a little and smiling mischievously like a little boy; Guinevere felt a shiver go up an down her spine as his dark eyes locked on her pale-blue “the King mentioned you every so often.”

“You would mention your wife in a cold night too, Lance, if you at least bothered to stick around Elaine’s side for more than five days without coming back to court.” Said Sir Kay before drinking out of his wooden goblet in greedy gulps and taking in every drop of his hot wine; the warmth of the wind quickly took over his tired and still cold body. “I bet she’s lonely.”

“How does fare my dear cousin, Elaine, Lancelot?” Guinevere asked masking her jealousy into concern because Elaine was the one who married her beloved Lancelot and it had been Elaine had also bore him a son and a daughter while she could not, after many, many years, bear at least one son and heir to Arthur.

“Just like Kay said, Lady, Elaine does feel lonely.” said Lancelot with a bit of guilt as he took his seat in the Round table with the rest of the knights. “With my oldest son, Galahad, training alongside Gaheris and Agravain here in Camelot and the departure of Nimue to be fostered, Elaine has no one to be with but her own company.” Lancelot swallowed his bread with great difficulty as he remembered his wife’s sad, pale face almost begging him many years back not come back to Camelot, especially if it meant coming back to Guinevere’s side.

“I did not know your daughter had left Less Britain.” Arthur stated with genuine surprise in his voice.

“Nor I” Confessed Lancelot. “I’ve spent so little time at home that I rarely got to know my own children; I‘m just now getting to know my eldest son, Galahad, now that he‘s here.”

Against his will, Lancelot remembered the day he had arrived back to his own lands three years before eagerly waiting to see his eleven-year-old daughter. The last time he had seen her she was only eight years old--but when Elaine told him, with teary eyes and a mixture of anger and resentment, that Nimue was gone, he felt ashamed and angry with himself for worrying more about Guinevere than his own family.

“Where did Elaine send Nimue?” Guinevere asked snapping Lancelot from his nightmarish trance “Is the girl in Pellinore’s lands? He is a good Christian so I believe she would be reared as a good Christian woman there and perhaps she will end up marrying a good man who is devoted to God. How old is she?”

“Nimue’s four-and-ten while Galahad is seven-and-ten. And actually, my Queen, Nimue has been taken to Avalon by my mother.” Lancelot said “Elaine of course wasn’t too happy about it but...well we all know that my mother is feared in many lands because of her knowledge of magic, so in the end Elaine gave in to my mother’s sneering voice and cold eyes.”

The High Queen could not believe what she was hearing. “So you’re telling me that Nimue, daughter of a Christian woman, was sent to that heathen land?” Guinevere asked furiously “Elaine is a Christian woman, so is Pellinore and her son and you, Lancelot, were raised-”

“It does not matter who raised him, my love.” Arthur affirmed trying to sooth his wife “Our Lance here is son of my benefactor, the Lady of the Lake, and if she believes that Nimue is meant to serve the Goddess then so be it, my Sweet. It is not up to us to--”

“Arthur, you’re a Christian King,” Guinevere argued “and you’re sinning against Him by putting the heathen goddess on equal footing as of our God.” Guinevere said with a scold, her blue eyes blazing with anger. “Arthur, you must cease running into battle under the pagan banner and start riding only under God’s banner.”

“Guinevere, I’ve made a vow to the Lady of the--”

“What about the vow you made to God, Arthur?” bellowed Guinevere no longer caring if the rest of the knights were listening to their conversation. However, before the High King could placate his wife or explain his reasons why he had kept the Goddess in equal footing as of God, one of the Queen’s women had approached the Royal couple bearing a message for both the King and Queen.

“Lord, Lady” She said timidly avoiding to lock her green eyes on Arthur’s and Guinevere’s, having heard, along with the knights present when the couple had argue. “The man that was brought many moons ago has awakened…”

Guinevere narrowed her eyes one last time at Arthur and mumbled “I will see to him...” and without waiting for her husband’s response, she abandoned the hall trying her best to hide the tears from the rest of the knights and her servant.

Many months before, while she and Arthur rode quietly one summer night accompanied with Lancelot and Kay, they had come across a man who was badly injured and close to his death. Arthur, being a generous king, decided to give the man a nice and warm bed before dying. Nevertheless, because the king's physician had intervened when the man had been brought to the room he survived but had spent his days and nights sleeping. Moreover, when awake he did not know where he was and that caused him to become alarmed or panic or so her servants had told her. The last time he had awakened, he had gotten out of bed and started screaming a name before passing out. When the Queen of Camelot had been informed of what had happened with the man it was then she instructed Lydia to call her whenever he was awake to see if it was possible for her to speak with him.

The Queen gathered up her wits before nodding to the young girl who was standing next to her looking rather scared. Guinevere was scared too and wished her favourite knight were around to protect her in case the man became violent but despite her wishing, she had to meet the man. The room in which he was staying was a small, dark room with stonewalls and one tiny window. The accommodations were not as elaborated as her quarters. The room only contained a bedside table with two candles burning, a basin for washing and a single bed in which the man was sitting and looking out the tiny window. "Hello..." she heard him say. The queen gulped and stepped forward afraid of what the lunatic would do this time around.

"Good evening, sir." The queen said half-afraid and wishing once again that Lancelot were present

The man turned around to look at Guinevere. "Could you...please tell me where I am?" his voice held a panicky tone but the man remained calm nonetheless

"'re in Camelot. In King Arthur's castle"

The man nodded a little and turned back to the window. "By the way you're dressed...I'm guessing you're a noble."

"I'm actually the King's wife." Guinevere said a little concerned that the man did not know who she was. Everyone in Camelot knew her. "And you, sir, who may you, be?" Guinevere asked the unknown man sitting at the edge of the bed.

The man remained silent after she asked him that question. She heard him sigh before he stood from his little bed, his face showed that he, somehow, had made up his mind about something. "I, my lady, go by Orion Black." to the Queen's surprise the man bowed deeply at her. "At your services"

Harry stared at the letter and read it over again making sure he had read correctly the signature at the bottom of the message.

Amelia had sent him an owl with two letters. The first one he opened told him how his house and property were doing. The second letter, on the other hand, that had arrived to the Hollow all the way from Camelot and it was hand written by none other than King Arthur himself. The King had invited him, along with other people, to a Christmas feast that was to take place in the King’s Court in just a few weeks. He panicked. He had no idea how to act with around medieval time children so he was in trouble when it came to an entire medieval court. Thinking rapidly, he pulled out the small mirror he always carried around and called forth the real Godric Gryffindor hoping he had a good idea on how to handle the situation.

“I need your help!” said Harry at a rapid speed.

“I’m guessing you did something you weren’t supposed to do, am I correct?” Gryffindor said with a bored tone to his voice.

“As a matter of fact, no, I haven’t done anything wrong.” Grumbled Harry underneath his breath hoping Gryffindor would stop thinking of him as a fool. “Amelia sent me a letter that arrived at Godric’s Hollow. It’s from Camelot.”

“Oh, it must be from Arthur himself.” Gryffindor said as a matter-of-fact.

“Well…yeah…” Harry said slowly and mentally kicked himself for not being prepared for something similar. ‘But who would’ve guessed that one of the school founders had a friendship with one of Britain‘s most legendary kings.’ Harry thought “He wants me--well, you--to attend a Christmas feast he’s holding. Do I go?”

“You must go!” Gryffindor ordered. “Arthur may not know that he’s a half-blood or that the Godric Gryffindor he knows is a wizard but you, as a figure in the wizarding world, must attend such a feast. But do not worry, I suppose the Merlin will be there and so will the other founders. However, if you think you’ll feel more comfortable you can ask Morgain and Adrianus to go with you.” he paused for moment thinking, “yes, it is best you ask the both of them to go with you. I must warn you, Morgain has not seen her brother ever since…” he stopped for a moment and frowned. “You best ask Adrianus first.” He instructed.

Harry nodded in agreement while part of him wondered why, exactly, Morgain had not seen her brother. Sighing and hoping Adrianus was in a good mood he shoved the mirror back into his robes and started heading towards the lake. He found the young knight practicing his archery while a few girls, some giggling openly while others hidden behind books and talking amongst themselves, watched as he made a bull’s eye. Again. Thinking it was for the best, Harry shooed the girls away telling them, as any other Professor would have done, to do their homework or go to class.

“Must you have done that?” Adrianus asked as he retrieved the arrows from the target.

“Yes,” Harry answered as internally he made up his mind of not letting Adrianus get the best of him “look, a letter from Camelot arrived today. I was told by…” Harry looked around to make sure that no one was around “Gryffindor that you and Morgain, should come with me” Harry decided to keep the fact that both were going with him as “babysitters”.

Adrianus looked at Harry and shrugged. “All right, I will go.”

Harry frowned at how easy and fast he had agreed. “Just like that?”

“Yes.” the knight responded as he released an arrow hitting, once again, the centre of his target. “I’m tired of being a bloody instructor to you so, considering that will be in the king’s court, I will do a little jest fighting with the other knights present to get rid of me urges.”

Harry rolled his eyes and wondered why any person would have desires for war, killing and, considering that it was the medieval era, such brutal violence. Seeing that Adrianus had no more desire of talking to Harry, and that Harry had no desire to continue talking to him, he headed towards the castle and hoped Morgain would be as easy to convince as had been Adrianus.

Morgain, as Harry had expected, was in her little room just above the kitchens and sitting on her desk right next to the one and only window; her face twisted in concentration as she wrote in her thick leather bound book. The fire that danced in the middle of the room was just enough to keep the modest room warm and Harry, who had been out in the bitter cold, welcomed that warmth wholeheartedly.

“Can I speak with you?” Harry asked the serene woman as he closed the door behind him.

“Certainly.” Morgain responded as she placed her quill down and gave Harry her full attention. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes…and no. You see, a letter arrived today from Godric’s Hollow…and it contained an invitation from King Arthur.” Harry observed how Morgain’s eyes soften a little but with a blink of an eye, the softness was gone and replaced with the familiar distance they always held. “I already asked Adrianus if he would go with me but to tell you the truth…I would feel more at ease if you go too.”

Morgain stared at Harry making him feel that she was reading his mind like many times before. “It has been a long time since I stepped foot in Camelot.” Morgain confessed “After I left Arthur’s court I went to my aunt Morgause and her husband, King Lot of Orkney where I…” She stopped short.

“Where you gave birth to your son” Harry finished for her.

“Yes” Morgain whispered, “Viviane did something terrible to my little brother and me. We were both in the Great Marriage, him as the Stag King and I as the Virgin Huntress. After we realized what we had done the morning after I was enraged with Viviane and left the Holy Isle to live in Camelot and be present for Arthur’s coronation and wedding.” she stood from her spot and walked over to the fire where she watched as the fired danced in front of her. “It was then when I became sick and realized that I was with child. Morgause offered me a potion to get rid of the child that I had conceived with my own brother but Vivian, of course, interfered. I was angry with Viviane and in spite of her, I decided to keep my child but instead of her letting raise child in the Holy Isle, I decided that she never was to never see him. And it was then when I renounce my vows to Viviane.

“A few days after that I decided to leave court never telling Arthur that I was carrying his child.” She looked at Harry and rubbed her forehead gently. “Months after I left I gave birth to my son, Mordred. I lived in Orkney for three years and left my son in Morgause’s care. I do not know if that was the best thing to do considering how ambitious Morgause is…”

“How old is your son?” Harry asked.

“He will be ten-and-seven in a few days,” she answered in a mere whisper. Morgain detached her gaze from the fire and smiled at Harry. “I do not know why…but my intuition is telling me to go with you to Camelot.”

Harry sighed in relief and stood up to face her “Perhaps…it is the Goddess’ will”

Morgain looked at him with surprise that he, for the first time, mentioned the Goddess and Her will. “Perhaps” was all she could respond with one of her rare smile.


Harry wrapped the thick wool coat around him and despite his effort; he was still shivering to the bone. They had been riding to Camelot for three days straight and the snow made it a more difficult and unbearable task. He had ridden not only with Morgain and Adrianus but with Helga Hufflepuff as well. Slytherin and Ravenclaw had been invited too but Slytherin decided to leave on his own saying he was taking a detour and Ravenclaw decided to stay behind with the students. Harry could not help but to imagine Rowena sitting in front of a roaring fire, drinking the hot wine he had accustomed to drink and laughing at the other founders for being out in the storm.

Harry cursed under his breath and squirmed a little on his horse. Despite the months of being Godric Gryffindor there was no hope for him to get used to riding horses. Morgain, who was riding next to him stifled a laugh at Harry face. “I’m guessing you’re not used to riding horses at all, correct?” she said in a whisper for Hufflepuff to not hear.

“V-v-very c-correct.” Answered Harry through his teeth.

“Well, all that’s going to change.” Morgain said while pointing ahead. It was then when Harry noticed a large castle sitting on top of a hill just a few miles away from where the small company was riding. “That, Harry, is Camelot.”

“I can’t wait to sit down in front of an open fire” stated Harry.

“I agree” said Hufflepuff as she caught up with Harry and Morgain.

“Well, ladies and lord.” Adrianus said from ahead “we will arrive at our destination just before sundown.”

Hufflepuff snorted “What sun, Adrianus? The sky is nothing but a giant grey cloud” she chimed in between shudders.

Adrianus looked up and laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, we better keep going or else we won’t make it at all by tonight; I can sense a blizzard coming our way.”

Slowly but surely the sky got darker and Adrianus’ senses were right as Harry saw that his black horse started to get small flakes of snow on his mane. After a few hours of riding and seeing nothing but leafless trees, Harry began to spot small houses with ceilings made out of straw up ahead.

Most of the houses he saw had farms that grew vegetables and grains but considering that since it was wintertime he hardly saw any vegetation growing and wondered how the poor people managed to make it through the winter. The village grew more crowded and busier as they got deeper into Camelot. Harry saw how tired women dressed in their warmest clothes went shopping for the little vegetables and meat they could afford or could get their hands on. While the women shopped for the food they were going to cook for the day the men were working in the shops or buying items for the farm. As Harry rode, vendors tried to sell him and the rest of his riding group meats, wheat, grain, goat’s milk and other items just for just a little amount of silver.

As Harry took in with amazement how Camelot and other English towns were back in history, he could not help but to relate it back to his first experience in Diagon Alley. The only difference between the both was the fact that Diagon looked a little more cheery and the witches and wizards back in his own time did not look as haggard, cold and hungry as the people in Camelot did. As they rode on, Harry couldn’t help but noticed a young woman with dull red hair, tired green eyes and dressed in rags. Holding on to her hand he noticed that the woman was holding on to the little hand of a red-headed boy around the age of three looking as hungry as his mother and the other people about them. Harry couldn’t help but be reminded of his own mother as he got closer to her and the little boy.

“Mum” Harry heard the little boy chime as Harry rode by “I’m hungry…” The mother just dropped to his level and looked at him with cheery eyes.

“It will be okay, David” Harry heard the woman said “we’ll find some food…” but Harry noticed that she didn’t even believe those words herself.

The rest of the ride to castle on top of the large hill Harry remained silent and couldn’t help but to think of the mum and little David who seemed to have nothing to eat. Morgain, who had also heard the conversation between mother and child sensed Harry’s unrest and tried to console him. “She’s not the only one in that situation.” she said “During winter people die of starvation because the blizzard storms do nothing but kill the crops or animals. It is not easy for those who do not have a husband or have no means of income to survive…”

“I see…” It was all Harry could think or say at the moment. He continued to ride with his head down until they, finally, were at the gate of Camelot.

“We’re not bloody enemies you fool!” Harry heard Adrianus shout to the guards who were above guarding the castle’s entrance. It seemed that Harry had been so deep into his own thoughts that he had not noticed when the guards stopped and demanded to know who they were. “So you well bring your arrows down. I am Adrianus, a knight of King Mark and with me rides Lord Gryffindor, Lady Hufflepuff and with us is the King Arthur’s sister. Morgain, Duchess of Cornwall.” The guards did as Adrianus told them to do and lowered their arrows and allowed the riders to go through the castle’s grand gate.

Life inside the walls was just a little different from the outside. The soldiers were busy going up and down thick, stone steps, others were marching, but what Harry found the most interesting was a large group of knights at the bottom of the centre stairs that lead to the inside of the castle battling amongst each other. Adrianus, who was now riding right next to him was wearing a broad grin across his face.

“Finally!” He dismounted his horse and gave the reins to a pageboy who was wearing for them to dismount their horses to take them to the stables. Harry and the two women followed suit and dismounted their horses and stood there wondering what was next. Adrianus, who was itching for a fight, joined the men in mock battle. Harry, who had never seen one, watched as Adrianus took on a much older knight and pinned him down, and rather fast too, to the ground. A group of three people rushed towards Adrianus and very swiftly he took them down one by own. The rest of the men circling them cheered for Adrianus who made a victory jest after he shook the hand of the last man he had taken down. Little by little, the men started to chant a name Harry was very familiar with after reading and hearing about him in muggle and Wizarding School.

“Lancelot! Lancelot! Lancelot” they chanted. It was then Harry saw a man come through the castle’s door with his hand resting on his sword’s hilt and with a grand smile across his face. Harry watched as Lancelot descended the stairs and walked through the crowd to face Adrianus. He witnessed how Adrianus struggled to keep up with Lancelot’s quick and swift sword and feet movement. The crowd kept cheering for Lancelot, the court’s favourite knight, to defeat Adrianus and when Harry was about to join them Lancelot did a rapid feet and sword move that knocked Adrianus down giving victory to Lancelot.

“Well, it seems our Lancelot is once again victorious!” said a voice from above the stairs. When Harry turned to look where the voice was coming from, he saw a tall man with blonde hair, wearing a red tunic and black dyed trousers and leather hide boots.

“When is he not?” A second voice said. It was then Harry saw a woman stood passing through the archway and next to the blonde man. The woman, same like the man, had long beautiful blonde hair was wearing a simple dark blue gown. However, what both of them were wearing something similar: a crown above their head. When Harry turned back to the group of men who seconds before were screaming and cheering he saw them bowing to the man and woman. Morgain on the other hand, Harry observed, was not bowing and strangely enough she looked taller than usual.

“Sister, is that you?” King Arthur said.

Morgain smiled “It is I, little brother” and before Harry knew what had happened, King Arthur ran down the steps and gave Morgain a bear-like hug. The fair woman, though, stood on top of the steps looking down at Morgain with some hint of hatred, or so Harry saw from below.

“I did not know you were coming.” Arthur said with a broad smile across his face.

“I came because Lord Gryffindor asked me to accompany him.” Arthur turned to look at Harry and who then shook his hand.

“Gryffindor, I did not know you were courting my sister!” Arthur assumed. “I was hoping my sister would marry to lesser king but then again my sister has a mind of her own. No one can control her. Then again, you two are followers of the Goddess and both reared in the Sacred Isle so a marriage between the two would be a strong bond.”

“Sir, you mistook what your sister said” Harry said in between laughs. “Lady Morgain is nought but a friend of mine and helping me back home with sacred writing.”

Arthur laughed. “Well, that is fine with me.” he paused and leaned towards Harry “I bet my wife would beg of you to woo my sister and marry her!”

“Speaking of your wife” Morgain started “how is she?”

Arthur glanced at Guinevere talking to Lancelot. “She fairs fine but” he paused and turned red “never you mind. We’ll talk later, sister. Oh look, it seems your friend has arrived.”

Harry looked back to the main gate and saw what Arthur meant. Slytherin, wearing an outfit that reminded him of a death eater, came into the castle riding a black stallion but instead of being alone he was accompanied by a woman around her mid-twenties with blonde hair and blue eyes and wearing a silk like dark green dress. Harry’s eyes widened. He knew that woman that was with Slytherin. It was Lady Andrea, whom Harry had met when he had gone to the meeting during the summer. Weeks after he started at Hogwarts, Harry had gotten word from Rowena that Lady Andrea was a widow because her companion had been killed by those followers of the Christian God, making Harry wonder what the woman was doing in a muggle court.

Besides the woman accompanying him, Harry saw that a young man, no much older than how he, Harry, would look in real life at Hogwarts, riding just a few feet behind Slytherin and Lady Andrea. He was a dark man, with dark hair that tied to a small ponytail behind his back and dark eyes that made Harry shudder. He had seen those eyes before but did not know where.

“By the Goddess…” Harry heard Morgain whisper. Harry turned to her and saw that her hand was clutching against her chest and her face was lacking colour.

“Morgain…” Harry whispered, “Are you well?”

Morgain did not answer. She kept looking at the three newest arrivals.


“It’s him…,” she said in a mere whisper and clearly looking at the youngest of the three.

“Who?” he said looking back at the young man and shuddered once again. Those eyes were not only familiar but also holding something dark in them. Something that made Harry shiver to the bone. “Come on Morgain, who is he? You know him?”

Morgain nodded a little. “I know who he is…He’s my son, Mordred…”


Well, what do you think? To tell you the truth, the next chapter is halfway illustrated so as soon as I go to my Sociology class I'll continue drawing the rest. Once all the illustrations are done I'll be able to write the chapter. Yeah...i draw my ideas before actually writing. Well, the following chapter we'll meet some other new Medieval people and see some old characters such as Rafer Malfoy. So expect an update about Friday of next week! Please review!

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The Time it All Began: The High King's Request


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