Chapter 135: Chapter 132
Harry had worked for hours with that RPG manual, devising a proper progression system to fit the ideas he had for his new game before he shelved it until he reached the school. He needed help from someone who had actual experience with magic based games. He needed Ron and Terry.
For now, he was sitting on his bed was sifting through his inventory, trying to separate out and categorize all the boxes. He'd already arranged all his food, clothes, books and the assorted weapons he had in his ownership and was moving towards the miscellaneous items.
While putting in the turban of glory in the clothes section, something suddenly caught his eye. A small piece of paper, one he hadn't thought about for months now.
Pulling it out, he read it.
Help shall always be provided at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.
Look for the most maleficent of the fae
He was pretty sure that the maleficent fae was Morgana Le Fay. And that somehow this piece of paper was supposed to be some sort of clue that would lead to a path that'd lead to some sort of fabled knowledge and power.
Another thing that was worrying him was why he hadn't received a quest for this entire thing yet. It really seemed like something was off.
Harry eyed the paper as something crossed his mind.
Surely not…surely he wasn't dumb enough to forget such a simple thing to do…
"Observe," he said.
Founders Clue #1!
Memory Page (1/4)
A piece of paper capable of showing the user a pre programmed memory once the paper's password is written on it. This particular memory page was created 982 AD.
Password: Morgana
Ping!
Quest Alert!
Founder's Quest. Find all the Founder's Clues and piece them together.
Rewards,
+40 stat points
1,000,000 Exp
?
?
?
Failure,
Death
Apocalypse
YES/NO?
It looked like the game needed an Observe the paper to trigger the quest, Harry thought, reprimanding himself for not having observed the paper earlier.
His eyes widened as he read the rewards and the failures. Apocalypse!? Was this that serious!? Accepting the quest, Harry swiped away the quest window and looked at the Observe. His eyebrows rose as he read what it actually was.
A memory page!
That was one artifact recipe he needed to get his hands on. If he could make and sell books made out of this paper with memories of Hogwarts classes in them, he could revolutionize wizarding education. He could create the first Magical Distance Learning Program! Making a mental note of this amongst the list of most awesome ideas he had, Harry focused back on the paper. It made sense that the password was Morgana. The underlined part was a clue to the password of the paper.
Wondering what memories could be held in this piece of the ancient past, Harry picked up the quill and in a neat handwriting, wrote down the password.
Morgana
The page seemed to absorb the words before the ink rose back to the surface and formed a circle about as wide as his hand. It seemed to be glowing with an odd sort of flickering silvery blue light.
His hands trembling slightly, Harry raised his hand and placed a single finger on the circle, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forward, the circle was widening, he felt his body leave his bed, and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the paper, into a whirl of color and shadow.
He felt his feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking slightly, as the blurred shapes around him came suddenly into focus.
He immediately knew where he was. This corridor was the familiar seventh-floor corridor in which he had found the Room of Requirement. And yet it was not so at the same time. The bricks looked new, and the magical sentience that Hogwarts had always radiated was notably absent. It was almost eerie.
Harry looked around the corridor. This was Hogwarts as the founders had known it. At the time of her conception. He, Harry, was little more than a phantom in this memory.
Noticing movement through the corner of his eye, Harry turned and saw a woman, looking older than even Dumbledore, leaning heavily on her staff as she limped towards the spot on the wall where he knew the Room of Requirement was hidden.
Reaching the spot, she stared at the wall for a split second before a pitch black door appeared. Harry hurried to follow her as she slipped in through the door.
Pushing himself in through the door, Harry looked around the inside of the room. It had taken the form of a well-lit hall, bare of any furniture except the single rectangular table that lay in the middle. Two small figures, covered with a white sheet, lay on it.
Behind the table, standing in a regal flowing blue dress, was the familiar visage of Rowena Ravenclaw. Curious about what was going on, Harry moved towards a corner of the room to wait and watch.
"Why did you summon me?" the old woman asked, positioning herself across the table from Ravenclaw. Harry's Gamer's mind was swift to note her stiff shoulders. She did not want to be here.
Ravenclaw's face was a cold mask of pure logic, as the famous enchanted diadem, she wore glinted in the firelight. Harry wondered for a second if this was how he looked while under Gamer's Mind's influence.
She opened her mouth to speak, "The Celts have kept their assault on us relentless. Our wards will not stand strong for much longer. They cover too big an area, and need more magic than we can provide."
"So this is what you have come to? Losing to a bunch of half-trained mediocre magic weavers." the old woman said, her voice mocking.
Ravenclaw remained unfazed, not even acknowledging the taunt as she continued speaking, "Godric and Salazar grow weary, and even Helga is not unfazed anymore. Our supplies are diminishing. Our people here in the castle now number in hundreds, and news has arrived that the Celts have killed all the others. The people in this castle…we are the last of our kind. And Hogwarts…Hogwarts is our last stand.
There was a quiet moment following that statement, during which Harry tried to wrap his mind around the seriousness of the situation. The Celtic magicals had somehow taken it upon themselves to commit genocide against what looked like all Anglo-Roman magicals. And whatever portion of the Anglo-Romans had survived, was now at Hogwarts fighting for their survival.
Harry wondered how he had never heard or read of this war. After a few seconds, he decided to blame it on Binns and refocus on the conversation.
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