Chapter 619 - The Second Harvest Moon Ⅳ

Merchieftainess Murcurs does not notice Rowan's reaction as she is lost in her own thoughts as she continues the tale. "After Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw returned with the guardian creature, Salazar Slytherin began to distance himself from the rest of the founders. There had been difficulties in their friendship before, but this was the first crack that would become an impossible divide to be breached. And so, Salazar became darker and more secretive with the passing of time. It was as though he trusted no one not even Godric.

Still, Salazar trusted in Marcellus enough to profess the location of the second guardian creature that he would leave behind to protect Hogwarts after his departure. It was one last fail-safe and his last taunt to Godric. Inevitably, Salazar never returned and like the other founders, he too passed away in the tumultuous years that would follow. And with the last founders' death, the guardian was ambushed and slain as well."

Merchieftainess Murcurs paused as she turned to gaze at Rowan, who was rather solemn as she knew she had learned the truth far too late within Salazar's diaries but still would not have changed her decision in the end. And reality is cruel and a most terrible thing at times.

"Marcellus despite all his efforts failed to protect the guardian, and the magic that had been interwoven into Hogwarts began to slowly wane. Unable to halt the breach in Hogwarts, he researched for many nights and days until at long last a solution was found," Merchieftainess Murcurs clarified. "Putting his affairs in order, Marcellus created the Hogwarts's Board composed of twelve witches and wizards to select the next and all future Headmasters. The Board was to run completely apart from any form of government or power as to never allow Hogwarts to fall into the wrong hands."

Merchieftainess Murcurs closed her eyes as she sighs. "And then Marcellus used all of his life force and magic to patch the spreading weakness within the wards of Hogwarts. He died, and his ashes were scattered on the grounds of Hogwarts by the House Elves to protect Hogwarts for a time from evil."

With some lament, Merchieftainess Murcurs opens her yellow eyes. "That is also the reason as to why there is no portrait of Marcellus. For a Headmaster's portrait to be created the original must pose before a talented witch or wizard capable of extracting a trace of the original's magic and embedding it into the living portrait. The more magic that is taken from the original the more alike the living portrait becomes to that of the original. However, Marcellus could not afford to leave a single trace of his own magic behind lest it is used against Hogwarts. That is why not even a living portrait exists of him nor even a ghost."

A solemn expression of understanding appears on Rowan's face. She understood only far too well as to the reasons for acting in this manner by her predecessor. And she also knew and recognized the fact that they might share the same final fate, and that in the same situation she would also choose to do the same. Because in the end, if Hell was solely the fate that awaited her, then she too would drag her enemies alongside her to the deepest pits of Hell.

"Thank you, Merchieftainess Murcurs," Rowan said, "for daring to speak the truth."

Merchieftainess Murcurs' yellow eyes fill with earnestness and pride as she says, "It is my solemn duty to do so." Merchieftainess Murcurs paused to narrow her eyes, before continuing, "Though your questions, Child of the Founders fill me with unease for they seem to be more than mere simple curiosity."

There is a lapse of silence as the two females stare at each other until Rowan at last replies, "And if they were not mere questions, but facts, what then?"

Merchieftainess Murcurs' back becomes rigid and stiff. Her yellow eyes scan the young witch's face for deception, but she finds none. Letting out a large sigh, which caused a small trail of bubbles to appear and disappear just as quickly as they appear. "If that abomination has indeed returned then my people are not safe either. Therefore, you, Child of the Founders shall have our solemn pledge of aid when the time comes."

"I thank you, Merchieftainess Murcurs," Rowan sincerely said as she inclined her head in a bow. "However, I must ask now, did Marcellus reveal any of the creature's weaknesses before his death?"

"Yes, Child of the Founders," Merchieftainess Murcurs muttered with great solemnity. "He entrusted the secret to our foremother, Lusca, and that, when the time came to return the secret to another touched by the cruel hand of fate."

Rising from her seat, Merchieftainess Murcurs tail swishes sundering floating into the depths of the house, where she solemnly reaches under her bed and pulls out a small chest. With care, she returns to her seat and hands the small chest over to the young witch.

With great care, Rowan accepts the small chest with a frown at failing to see a keyhole. "There is no key?" She asked.

Merchieftainess Murcurs shakes her head and says, "It will only open for the one, who carries the blood of the founders. As such, I recommend that the chest be opened on land, Child of the Founders as my predecessors before me, I too do not know the contents contained within the chest."

"Thank you for your continued guidance, Merchieftainess Murcurs," Rowan muttered as she stowed away the small chest into her mokeskin pouch, before carefully tying it back onto her person.

"Have you any further questions, Child of the Founders?" Merchieftainess Murcurs steadfastly asked. "I must return to the celebration for I have tarried long enough as it is."

"My apologies for taking your time away from your people, Merchieftainess Murcurs," Rowan said, before hesitating for a moment. "There is one more question I must ask if the time is permitted."

"Ask away, Child of the Founders," Merchieftainess Murcurs replied.

"What runes are required to bind a cursed living vessel?" Rowan stiffly, but firmly inquired.

Merchieftainess Murcurs eyes flicker over the young witch before a cool smile appears on her face. "Child of the Founders, it would seem that you share similar sentiments like that of your forefather, Salazar Slytherin."

"I am a Slytherin," Rowan matter-of-factly answered.

"Mm, and I would also agree with that sentiment," Merchieftainess Murcurs admitted as her yellow eyes flashed dangerously. "Sometimes what is needed is not cleverness, but decisive force."

Pulling a stone tablet from nearby, Merchieftainess Murcurs uses a sharpened gleaming fingernail to lightly carve runes onto the tablet. "I shall not ask for details, Child of the Founders, but I will caution you. Should you elect to embark on this path, the correct vessel must be found, and the time is very limited for tomorrow is the third night of the three Harvest Moon's, the Hunter's Moon."

"There is one," Rowan rigidly replied giving no further details.

"Then I shall not inquire no further, Child of the Founders," Merchieftainess Murcurs muttered, before handing over a written stone tablet with the precious, but dark answer. The strings of Fate were out of her hands now and only time would tell if the tapestry would change.