Chapter 629 - The Third Harvest Moon Ⅸ

The swirling darkness ceased to twist and turn as Rowan stumbled and glanced around to find herself once more in the Headmaster's office. Marcellus looked much the same as he did in the previous memory and sat at his desk with a feathered quill in hand and writing upon the parchment. His quill makes scratch like sounds as he writes.

Nothing occurs and Rowan begins to show signs of boredom and glances around the rather bare office. "It's most certainly not like Dumbledore's office," she privately mused to herself. No, Dumbledore's office was a lot more cheerful and interesting to look around in.

The quill scratching sounds cease to be made causing Rowan to turn back to glance at Marcellus, the First Headmaster of Hogwarts. Capping his quill, he sits back and glances up from his writing. "Please have a seat," Marcellus said as he courtesy gestured to Rowan to have a seat. Find authorized novels in , faster updates, better experience, Please click /book/a-bend-in-time_14576125306898605/the-third-harvest-moon-%E2%85%B8_50676202708458153 for visiting.

Rowan wildly glances around to see that Marcellus is gazing firmly at her. Her mouth suddenly feels rather dry as she hoarsely croaks in disbelief, "You can see and hear me?"

"I can sense your confusion," Marcellus answered, "And no, I cannot see nor hear you, but merely glimpse a shadow of the future that may come to pass."

Rather warily Rowan takes a seat but tries to wonder how such a thing would be possible considering this is a memory. But then again, Marcellus was a farseer. Sometimes reality is not always fixed in time. And that which is impossible is not so seemly impossible after all.

"I sense that you possess many questions for me," Marcellus said with a faint smile on his face. "But alas, there is not much I will not tell you that you have not already deduced from the memories which I will take and place within the vial."

The smile fades away from Marcellus's face as he solemnly continues, "My time shall soon come to an end and I shall bind the entirety of my Magic to protect Hogwarts. With each element representing the four founders, but tragically, I have only found a protector for three of them. The lake is protected by the merfolk, the forest by the centaurs, and the castle by the House Elves. And though my magic is not as strong as my friends, it shall be enough to protect the students and those that enter it. I will seal as many as the cracks as I can making it nigh impossible for more than three abominations to exist within these walls.

However, my magic will fade away with the natural passing of time, and more cracks shall appear. And I cannot guarantee that more will enter nor that the wards will further weaken at the hands of the descendants of one my friends."

Marcellus paused to roll up the parchment before him that is now dried, before sealing it with wax and stamping the letter shut with his seal. "Forgive me, a Headmaster's duty is never quite done."

Putting the sealed letter aside, Marcellus folds his hands before him and lays them to rest on his desk. "Now, I shall gift you with all the knowledge that I possess concerning that hideous being. I am not certain from whence he came, but I do know that he was Herpo, the Foul's second apprentice and he perfected Herpo, the Foul's research," Marcellus explained as his gaze grew weary with memories, before closing his eyes as he leans back into his seat.

"At the height of Godric and Salzar's power, they with the aid of Rowena and Helga sought out to destroy the cruel and mighty power of the Assassin Wizarding clans. That was our first true encounter with him, he was a mere boy at that time in that form. Still, more than half of such a clan had been transformed into something that was not meant to be and that went contrary to all the principles of Mother Nature. None of us understood the dangers of it at that time including myself except for perhaps, Salazar, who destroyed every single member of the clans including the women and children," Marcellus sighed in memory as if recalling the horrific screams and terrible wails of that night.

"It was Godric's blade which pierced the boy through the heart, and with it, the rest of the clan members collapsed to the floor. They were all interconnected," Marcellus explained. "Had Godric taken the boy's heart, it would have all ended that very night, but he did not. Godric thought the boy dead, and perchance, he was near death, but the abomination escaped into another that followed us. But it can be killed, it is not an impossible feat, but the trick is finding the head or should I say, the true heart of the abomination."

"Secondly, that foul being cannot possess any being in existence that carries the blood of those descended from the Spirits, who we call magical beings or the creature itself. In all my years of existence not once has a goblin or those that bare the blood of Veela or even those who have become the children of the night or the cursed wolves, who yet remain untainted by the abomination," Marcellus triumphantly said.

"Trust in those that bare such bloodlines, they can at least be trusted to act under their own recognizance. And it is a small consolation that at least the birds and the beasts cannot be taken, the Spirits only know what foul things the abomination would be capable of doing."

"Lastly, but not least, the abomination is limited in the entities it creates and possesses," Marcellus murmured with a sorrowful expression as he recalled a memory of not so long ago.

"A student of mine, an intelligent but an incredibly determined child to be exact, a Hufflepuff by the name of Bertie. The boy was tenacious, but he was a muggleborn. The Sorting Hat, I believe would have placed him in Gryffindor or even Ravenclaw for his brilliance, but the boy had a nature that was quite stubborn, and so he became a badger," Marcellus softly chuckled wistfully recalling better times.

"Helga and I watched him grow with great pride," Marcellus' voice trailed off in lament. "He was the final nail that nailed her coffin shut, and Helga passed away not long after his departure-."

His voice broke, before roughly clearing his throat of the welling up emotions, Marcellus croaks, "We watched with pride as the boy grew into his power, but one day in his sixth year, the boy came to me with worry in his eyes. The boy explained that during the summer holidays, he had aided an Auror in apprehending a criminal, but he felts something pass from the criminal into his own being. At first, the boy thought it was a curse, but he found no such thing on his person, and the event was quickly forgotten until his nightmares began," Marcellus hissed as his lips pressed together in anger at recalling the following events.

"The boy claimed that every night, he dreamt of a demon within his dreams, and who began to attack him and try to eat his soul. In his dreams, he claimed that he managed to fight off the demon each night, but with each passing night, the demon grew a little stronger and stronger, and he feared that there would come a night when the demon would be strong enough to eat his soul," Marcellus murmured as he closed his eyes in regret.

"In my foolishness, I sent the boy away and reassured him that it was merely a dream and that nothing more would come of it. However, the summer after Bertie's sixth year, he returned with vast terror and a strange gleam in his eyes. The boy claimed that the demon had ceased to attack him in his dream, but instead communicated therein. And slowly, but surely, the boy said he felt that he felt his heart begin to palpitate for the demon found within his dreams," Marcellus quietly murmured.

"Alas, I began to worry far and much too late as I watched over the boy through the course of his final year. Slowly, but surely the boy began to change bit by bit. And even more frightening habits that were foreign to us both began to appear as if two beings were in the process of merging into one," Marcellus distantly said. "The boy began to frequent my office less and less, and with each visit, a great struggle occurred within him. Until the boy could take no more and one fateful dark night at the end of his seventh year, he came to see me."

Marcellus paused and slowly lifted his eyes as if seeing the figure of Rowan before him. "I leave this one and final memory for you to view farseer. I bid you good fortune and good hunting. May you succeed, where we have failed. And trust in the Sorting Hat, it shall aid you." The image fades away as the floor vanishes and Rowan finds herself falling once more into darkness for the last time.