The weeks that came after the day the Hogwarts Court was formed were nothing they were expecting or even ready to confront. Harry, true to his word, contacted Ragnok to arrange the contract of confidentiality for all the people he needed to hire. To reinforce the wards of the school after centuries of neglect, it would be an arduous job that would take at least half a year to have the ward stones ready and, of course, that did not include the installation. However, he considered it a necessary step. He had felt the wards and they resembled wet paper, unable to hold back a strong wind, much less an attack.

In total, Harry hired twenty people who had advanced knowledge of wards, plus his aunt, who would lead the whole project. Ragnok was already writing the draft for the next donation, being explicit with the requirements they would place on the school. The boy also considered asking the school elves to place wards but decided against it. The fact that his own elves were able to pop inside the castle was an invaluable advantage he was unwilling to give up.

Their school life had also changed in an expected but still surprising way. If before the halls seemed to take them anywhere they wished to go, now it almost felt as if they could control the school. There was not a single place where they were not allowed to enter, including the common rooms or the Hogwarts hall, which was locked by the professors after curfew. Not even the restricted section in the library was out of bounds, even after all the wards that had been placed during the summer. There was also a special discovery that was still hard to process because the event was so unbelievable it would be easy to classify it as a mere illusion created by an overactive imagination.

It had been a normal day for the Court. They were walking towards their headquarters when the school guided them to another place. It was a part of the castle where none of them had been. The stones in the floor still looked rough, as if they had not been used with any frequency. What caught their attention, however, was the wall-length symbol. It resembled the school's crest, but the design had a few differences. The typical House animals were still part of it, but in a different order. The most obvious disparity was the two dragons surrounding the emblem, instead of the usual ornamentation.

Before anyone could speak, the wall parted and they were allowed inside a room that seemed ancient at best. There were four doors. Each one had engraved initials, along with many bookcases and a small sitting place with chairs that looked so old they were afraid to use them, for they were sure they would break. However, the most interesting feature was a small table where a single journal was resting.

Overpowered with curiosity, Harry walked towards the table and cast a few detecting charms in case the journal was cursed. Finding no trace of evil intent, he picked the worn book up and opened it with delicate moves. The first thing he noticed was the initials H. G. M.

"I don't recognize the language it's written in," Harry sighed, giving up at the sight of unknown symbols.

"Of course you don't," Luna stated. "Helena Guinevere of Morgen was an intelligent woman and decided that only those who were worthy would inherit her knowledge. She encrypted every single book in the room herself. It is your duty to discover how she did it." The girl's eyes were blank but her usual pale, silvery irises seemed to have lost most of their colour.

"So what is this room?" Daphne asked the girl with caution in order not to break whatever trance she was in.

"The founders' room, of course. Each room contains their journals and the protections around it are heavy, but I know you'll be able to do what the last Queen wasn't able to," she said looking at Draco and Flora. "The information that this room contains will be invaluable, for the last Queen was the only daughter of Morgana Le Fay, the most powerful enchantress that has ever existed."

"What should we do first?" Blaise asked the girl.

"Begin with Rowena's room, her magic was weak before her death. Finish with Helga's, she died as a warrior and her magic remains strong to this day," the girl whispered. Her almost white irises recovered their colour as she regained full awareness. Without wasting a second, Blaise held the confused girl and helped her to stabilize.

"So I guess we should search the entire room for something Helena might have left to understand these books," Harry sighed.

"Or we can call the elves. For someone who has more elves than most of Magical Europe combined, you tend to forget how efficient they are," Hestia said with no real fire behind her words.

"Right. We also need to tell Marcus," the boy sighed, wondering how many sleepless nights would be devoted to understand what the last Queen had left.

That evening had been dedicated to sorting out the books, a task that the Potter house-elves facilitated. Rome had been the one to find minuscule inscriptions in different parts of the rooms, giving Harry a basic clue on how to solve the unnecessarily complicated puzzle that the woman had left behind. Draco and Flora had been fascinated by the kind of wards that had been left to protect the rooms. With the help of George and Theo, they had managed to have a basic idea of how to open Rowena Ravenclaw's room. However, they were planning on asking Aunt Eleadora for help during the Yule holidays because they knew that the other rooms would be far more complex and cumbersome.

That day had turned even more interesting for another reason. Viktor showed his magical talent when he cast a spell no one had known existed to reveal any possible hidden features.

"That was incredible! What spell did you use?" Hestia almost demanded to know, ignoring how the boy seemed to be abashed by her praise.

"I created it," the Bulgarian student muttered, and the room fell in silence.

"You're a spell crafter!" Justin exclaimed.

"That's much more interesting than being an International Professional Quidditch player," Blaise commented.

In that way, the new Court discovered Viktor's talent for crafting spells and little Hestia took particular interest in that branch. Harry would have never imagined having someone with so much knowledge about the subject in his group. The older boy narrated how his mother taught him from the basics, passing her extensive knowledge to him. When he saw the longing and sadness in Viktor's eyes, Harry swore to help him free his mother, no matter how hard it would be, because, in some way, Svetlana Dobrev reminded him of his own mother. Lily Evans, the woman he barely remembered but loved with every fibre of his being...

It was interesting how their dynamic worked. The moment Harry decided that he would help Viktor, the whole group seemed to reach a unanimous agreement to do the same. Even Fleur, who was their newest member, seemed to be in tune with them because the same steel resolution could be seen in her eyes.

Their moment was broken when a screeching noise pierced the room. Everyone got ready to confront the threat. However, it ended up being a simple compartment hinge complaining about the lack of use and oil. A compartment that appeared where once was nothing but the grey stone of the fireplace. Thanks to the Bulgarian boy, they had discovered something hidden - a simple metal circle that was no larger than a plate, but heavier than a boulder and which had a Hydra carved in the middle, surrounded by symbols no one was able to recognize. Beside it, there was a simple piece of parchment, on which a few lines were written.

"Our symbol, the Hydra, represents our ideals. If one of us is gone, two will take their place. Ceterums, protectors of magic." With each word, Harry understood, at last, his desire to create a mark... That is how history would remember them.

"If I'm not wrong, they were the ones who created Diagon Alley and protected Hogsmeade from any possible attack. They established the outer wards of the school, the village and the Alley," Adrian said, his eyes widening with realization.

"They changed history and so will we," Luna announced.

That was the day Harry Potter began thinking of the mark that the Court would wield. The boy was sure that they would be remembered even when Merlin was forgotten because they would achieve a feat no-one had been able to before. Free magic.

Aside from that interesting event, what had caught them all by surprise was how aware they were of the castle, which carried with it the frustration of being unable to understand who or what the threat was inside the school. Hogwarts alerted them a few times, especially when the international delegations were inside, but they were unable to find anything strange. Even Fleur and Viktor had kept an eye on their headmasters and fellow students, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Therefore, they concluded that the castle was wary of the strangers... However, they still kept their guards up.

Aside from that perturbing sensation, everything seemed to be going well. The day their Quidditch team was complete, his friends had urged him to speak with Professor McGonagall for permission while they would speak with Madam Hooch. Of course, they had to send him to the lion's den. Not that he minded that much because he enjoyed speaking with the woman, but it was not his idea or even his team to be representing. Not that they cared, of course, though the trip had been worth it, even if it was just to see the woman out of the strict persona she used most of the time.

Harry was walking towards the Transfiguration Professor's office, a pouting Fleur walking beside him. The Quidditch players had debated for a few hours over who would be the captain, their discussion getting louder with each passing moment. The French girl got tired of it and put them all in their places. In that way, Fleur Delacour became the unwilling captain of the team. Harry managed to persuade her to come with him to talk with McGonagall and the boy felt quite smug about that fact. Reaching their destination, the boy knocked on the door. A few moments later, it was opened.

"Mister Potter, Miss Delacour. It's a surprise to see you here. Has something happened?" the woman asked, immediately alert.

"Not at all, Professor. We have a simple request," Harry answered, calming the teacher.

"Of course. Take a seat." Harry nodded and pulled out a chair for the older girl, who glared at him but took it. The boy pushed her chair and tried to hide his satisfied smirk.

"Thank you, Professor," the girl said in a polite tone, ignoring the boy sitting beside her.

Minerva McGonagall was a woman of the world, having experienced intense love and equally intense pain. She had always been clever but, no matter how much she thought about the reason why these teenagers were in her office, she could not find a possible answer, unless... Harry Potter had inherited most of his traits from Lily but, perhaps, there was also a little James in him. While the boy was young, he was at an age where females started being attractive and, even though the foreign students had been in the castle for less than two weeks, Minerva had no doubt that any girl would fall for her handsome student. However, she expected him to pursue another girl, maybe Miss Greengrass or Miss Lovegood, and yet, the more she looked at the teens in front of her, the better the prospect of their relationship looked.

Miss Delacour was a beauty among beauties, owner of a sharp mind and lethal with a wand. Now that she thought about it, the girl reminded her so much of Lily that she had wondered whether that was the kind of woman the Potters were attracted to in order to better the family. Not that Harry was inferior in any way, the boy was extremely handsome, making more than one heart beat faster when he passed by. He possessed impeccable manners and was a true gentleman, treating every person with equal respect, and his talent with magic classified him as no less than a genius... Though Minerva expected him to go with Filius because they were quite close. It was an honour to guide the boy in this new stage of his life.

For a moment, she allowed her inner romantic to take control and was already imagining their future. Harry Potter escorting a glowing Miss Delacour to the Yule Ball, then they would send letters to each other, with the girl eventually moving to the country in order to be close to her beloved. Perhaps they would also marry young; she could already see their beautiful blond children with vivid green eyes or maybe black hair paired with innocent blue eyes...

"Professor McGonagall?" the boy asked, forcing her inner romance enthusiast to surrender control.

"Excuse me. You were saying?" Minerva said, trying to control her embarrassment.

"We wanted to ask your permission to form a Hogwarts Quidditch team," the girl told her.

"I believe Madam Hooch is the one in charge," the professor answered, trying to contain her disappointment at the request.

"Yes, but this is a bit different. My friends decided to form a Quidditch team that would include foreign students. Miss Delacour was chosen as captain," Harry clarified, surprising the woman.

"That isn't something that I was expecting," the woman admitted, looking strangely crestfallen. "I see no problem in including our visitors."

"The thing is, ma'am, that Viktor Krum is part of the team," Fleur explained, surprising the woman.

"I now understand... I don't think it's fair to have a professional Quidditch player, so he would need to be replaced or you wouldn't be allowed to compete."

"He won't be playing as a Seeker, but as the Keeper," Harry told the woman, his vivid green eyes melting any kind of resistance.

"If that's the case, I see no problems," McGonagall agreed, at last, sighing at the boy's charm. Harry would be able to persuade a nun to follow the path of sin with a few looks.

"Thank you, Professor. We'll do our best," the French girl promised.

"I hope you do and I'm eager to see you play. I'm glad that you decided to join a team at last, Mister Potter," the woman congratulated the confused boy.

"I'm not joining any team," he answered. "I decided to walk Fleur to speak with you in order to offer moral support," he explained, trying to conceal his smirk at the baffled expression of the girl sitting beside him.

"I'm glad that you're the perfect example of a gentleman. Lily would be proud," Minerva congratulated the boy, feeling disappointed at the revelation. It seemed that Harry had not inherited the most minuscule interest in Quidditch, just like his mother. "Is that everything you wish to tell me?"

"Yes, that's all," Harry said, much to her disappointment. "We'll stop bothering you. Have a great evening, madam."

"You're both welcome any time. Have a good day," the woman said, waving them off.

The students left the office in direction of the Court's room, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry wondered what Professor McGonagall was expecting because, for a moment, she had seemed far too eager. Perhaps she really was hoping for him to become a Quidditch player, just like his father before him, something Harry was not willing to do in this lifetime. The game holds no appeal for him and he would rather use his valuable time doing something productive.

"Was the professor expecting something else?" Fleur asked after a while of walking in silence.

"I'm not sure, though I admit she looked far too interested at the beginning of our conversation," he agreed, and, out of mischief, he decided to add something. "Perhaps she was expecting us to confess our undying love for each other."

"I'm sorry to disappoint her, but I don't think that will be happening in this lifetime or the next," the girl snorted.

"You offend me, Miss Delacour. Are you implying that I'm not good enough?" Harry asked in mock offence.

"I am saying that I am not a child molester. In the eyes of the law, I am officially an adult," Fleur answered with a graceful hand gesture.

"I'm glad your interests don't stray towards that dark path but, according to my observations, they sway towards another official adult who happens to be a Prefect and is a great Quidditch player," the boy commented, containing his amusement at the girl's flushed cheeks.

Harry Potter had waited with impatience for the History class that the Sorting Hat would dictate. They had discovered the Founders' Chamber, as they decided to call the room, a few days ago and questions were plaguing his mind. Luna had informed them that Helga Hufflepuff had been a fierce warrior, which was not surprising, but what raised his curiosity was the implication of the woman being the most powerful of the founders. Harry knew that history was far too tainted with the opinions of the ones who had written it to have an accurate description of the past. However, until then, he had never imagined the story of the founders being completely different from what the books told. This simple idea raised many inquiries that only the founders themselves could answer, but maybe the Sorting Hat could give him an idea of what could have happened.

With this thought in mind, he hurried his friends to reach the class, where they were the first ones to arrive. The minutes the boy spent waiting for the rest of the students and the teacher were denting his already diminished patience. At last, the man entered, carrying the ragged hat in his hands.

"Good evening," the man greeted, and every conversation in the room was quieted. "Today, the Sorting Hat will help me give the lecture. Last class, we were discussing the witch hunts and the reasons why the International Statute of Secrecy was established. Before we begin, does anyone have any questions?" Without wasting a second, Harry raised his hand and a surprised professor signalled the boy to talk.

"It has nothing to do with the theme, but I was wondering whether the hat could tell us the story of the founders and how the school was created from his perspective," he requested. Many students in the room had the audacity to snort at his question and the group remembered why they did not enjoy sharing classes with the Ravenclaws.

"That's an excellent suggestion. It never occurred to me. It would be great for the hat to tell us who the founders really were, instead of the people that history has portrayed. Five points for that brilliant idea, Mister Potter," the man announced, wearing a bright smile. Any kind of derision that the students may have felt was eliminated at the words of the teacher. Daphne noted that Padma Patil was one of the few who did not mock Harry's request and decided that she would pay attention to the girl.

"So you want to know about the founders, eh?" the hat asked. "I'm glad that someone asked me at last because, through the centuries, I heard the most ludicrous stories about them. As many of you know, I belonged to Godric Gryffindor, but the four founders each gave me a part of them and brought me to live so I could perpetuate their teachings. I possess the knowledge of the great four!" the hat announced.

The whole room was entranced by the introduction of the hat. Even the professor looked interested. However, the members of the Court were another story. 'Perpetuate their teachings.' That was the phrase that had managed to distract them. They had been thinking about some way of doing just that and the phrase fitted with Luna's description of how they would continue teaching future generations about their rules. 'We will leave part of ourselves in the castle.' Those were the exact words from their seer. Harry knew that he needed to discover how the hat was enchanted. It seemed it was time to ask the elves to search in the vast Potter library for useful information...

"The turbulent times in which this school was founded were filled with violence and death. Muggles were frightened of anything they didn't understand and in those dark ages, when magicals still lived among them, gallons of innocent blood were spilt. Godric Gryffindor was a brave man indeed, but he was a strategist, never going into battle unprepared unless there was no other option. He met Salazar Slytherin when they were both young and they became brothers in everything but blood, united by their tragic past. Both men lost their families to the hatred of Muggles but, while Godric lost his wife and his only daughter, Salazar lost his entire family when he was barely a child. Unlike what history has told, they weren't water and oil for they more shared qualities and rarely differed. Salazar learned to be cunning in order to protect himself. He learned to be resourceful and, overall, he learned to use any means in order to survive. Both praised ambition and power over any other quality and that's how they chose their students."

"But we all know that Slytherin was ambitious and evil," Anthony Goldstein interrupted.

"Ah, you've all heard about it, but that doesn't mean it was true," the hat told the boy, who was beginning to blush. "Salazar was ambitious, that's right. His greatest ambition was to create a haven for all the magical people so no one else would suffer his fate, an ambition he shared with the other founders. If they hadn't possessed that trait, this school would have never been created. Now, where was I? Oh, yes! Rowena was as beautiful as she was sharp. However, what made her formidable was a particular trait she possessed. Fair Rowena never trusted the information of a single source; she always went out of her way to find the truth and, even then, she rationalized the information. Last, but never least, is Helga Hufflepuff, one of the most admirable witches I have ever met. Gentle as she was, Helga was a lethal warrior and not even Godric dared to go against her."

"But, she was Helga Hufflepuff! Gryffindor was said to be the greatest duellist of his time!" Lisa Turpin exclaimed. Her wide eyes would make saucers feel inadequate.

"And Hogwarts was said to be the best magical school in Europe," the hat commented, shutting down any possible protests. "Helga didn't enjoy violence for she contained the kindest soul, but do not dare to mistake her kindness for weakness. She trained every day and possessed skills that few, if anyone, could counter. While she was hard to anger, no one has ever survived her ire," the hat said, mesmerizing the room with that declaration. "Hogwarts was created to protect the children and Hogsmeade was meant to be the refuge of the magical people and, for a time, everything was well. For decades, they worked every single day to build this school and, at last, Hogwarts was born. Thanks to all the intent behind the founders' magic, the castle began feeling and she's the first line of protection against any threats.

"They began receiving students and everything seemed bright, but nothing good lasts long... The founders started accepting Muggle-borns, but soon realized it may not have been the best idea. Few knew the basics of reading and they possessed no knowledge on how to write. They were not educated, for they lived in ages that even Muggles remember as dark, where knowledge was a luxury and poverty was the norm."

"Those were the Middle Ages, right? Why did they take in only the lower class? I'm sure that the nobles and princes would have not acted in such a way," Padma Patil asked.

"Indeed, Miss Patil, but those were turbulent times and, if any Lord or King discovered how the magicals were being taught, they would have doubtless attacked. Let's not forget that, even then, they outnumbered us," the professor explained.

"True. We have always been fewer," the hat agreed. "Salazar Slytherin blood-adopted a child while the castle was still being built. He was named Hector. The boy served as a teacher in the castle and began opposing Muggle-borns, but Helga decided that they should give everyone the opportunity to learn, and all the founders supported that decision. He was already bitter because, while he inherited his father's talent, he was unable to surpass him and, when his father didn't support him, hatred began to contaminate his soul. Hector decided that he would take the matter into his own hands and began sending snakes to kill the students he called 'impure' using the gift Salazar passed to him by blood. Obviously, he was discovered when two children were bitten and almost died. It was good that Helga was an accomplished healer and she saved their lives. Salazar himself decided to exile Hector from these lands because he was a leader and, even though he loved his son, he chose to protect the school he had worked so hard to build. As I said, he learned to use any means to accomplish his goals, even if it included breaking his own heart in the process."

The story of the founders was beginning to make sense to Harry and he even had an idea of how it ended. He admitted being fascinated with the information of Salazar's son and how history had forgotten about his existence. Another thing that intrigued him was the reason for the castle's sentience and he wondered if the Potter castle would ever possess the same quality.

"Hector was filled with hatred and started committing heinous acts using the name of his father, deciding he would become Salazar Slytherin, and his goal was to purify this world. He was the one who started using the terms that we all know about: mud-blood and blood traitor. However, he was the son of two Muggles, something he hid from the world. A man who possessed the 'polluted blood' he loathed so much was the one who created the idea of blood purity. Isn't it ironic how life works?" the hat asked no one in particular.

"If all of this is true, why didn't you reveal it sooner?" Sue Li asked in genuine curiosity.

"I'm confined to the headmaster's office three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. My only source of information about what happens out of the walls from this castle is the students and the portraits of the headmasters in the school. My duty was to solely sort them not too long ago," the hat explained. "It was painful to see how history remembered the ones I consider my parents."

"What happened after?" Blaise asked, wanting to hear the whole story.

"Of course, let's go back. Where was I?... Ah, now I remember. Hector had, at last, gathered a number of followers who believed in the superiority of their blood. Rumours of the vicious massacres and those responsible for it arrived at the castle. Salazar was heartbroken by the news. While he was a man that made decisions by thinking of all the possible variables and planning for everything in advance, the news of the crimes his son was committing led him to make the first impulsive decision in his life. Salazar decided to search for Hector and kill the monster he had raised. At this point, Rowena had already perished; the betrayal of her own daughter had broken her heart. Helga and Godric begged him not to go but they were unable to change his mind. Salazar parted on a rainy dawn and never returned."

"Did he die?" asked a wide-eyed Terry Boot.

"We supposed he did because, not long after, Hector arrived at the borders of the village, declaring war on the two founders and waving the wand Salazar had crafted for himself decades before. Godric was torn by grief and attacked the enemies, succumbing to his rage. His wife, Katherine, also joined the battle in an effort to help him. She died while covering his back with her own body. The wound was so lethal that not even Helga could bring her back. At last, Godric confronted Hector, but he was defeated and would have lost his life had it not been for the loyal Griffin that rescued him."

"What was Hufflepuff doing?" Anthony asked, making no effort to hide his derision at the idea of the woman not fighting.

"Until that moment, Helga had remained as the shield, protecting the villagers and the students from anyone who passed Godric. However, when he was brought back, already crossing to the realm of death, she knew she had no other option. First, she healed Godric, a feat that took a lot of power, for no common healer can retrieve someone when death has already clutched their hearts. She joined the battle the next day. The enemies were overwhelmed by her raw power and her ruthlessness. She considered Hector's existence and ideologies to be a threat and mercy was not granted. Helga battled Salazar's son and ended up as the victor. Singlehandedly, she defeated every single person who was still a threat to the ones she loved. However, that prowess did not come free. She was wounded and her core was almost depleted. Having no other healer in the castle, she died."

"She died the death of a warrior, protecting the ones she loved," Draco commented. He was not looking at the hat, but at his friends. Not waiting for an answer, he began writing on a piece of parchment and Harry knew that the boy had found a clue about how to open the woman's room.

"That she did. Godric woke up a few days later, only to discover that his only remaining friend was dead and that his recklessness had caused his wife to perish. He descended into depression. A few weeks later, unable to continue living with his sorrow, he committed suicide using his own sword," the hat stated and many people in the room gasped in surprise at the revelation. No one was expecting the brave man to meet such an end. "Helga's youngest daughter, Beatrix, took control of the school. Had she not assumed the responsibility, Hogwarts would not be standing today."

That day, the students had been strangely subdued as the story was retold all over the castle. At the end of the day, the whole school knew the real story of the founders. The Hufflepuff House, which was commonly seen as the house of leftovers, was glowing in pride. Knowing the real story of blood purity was the last push the Slytherins needed to be disenchanted with the ideology, along with many other blood purists that seemed to be experiencing a life crisis during dinner.

"We should find a way of making sure the whole world knows the truth," Viktor suggested.

"He's right," George agreed.

"A book – that's the answer," little Luna said, gaining the attention of the Court. "Tell Rita to write a book about the founders and we'll publish it."

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall will allow her to speak with the hat," Hestia said. Excitement spread among the people who were in their headquarters. Harry smiled at them and nodded. The book would be a valuable weapon against blood purity, which meant Voldemort would be affected.

While the others planned the details of the book, Harry was lost in his own thoughts. The hat had described Salazar and Godric as two almost identical people who believed in the same ideologies, but there were a few traits that made them utterly different. Both founders preferred students who were resourceful, determined and, above all, desired to be acknowledged by the world for their great deeds and power... But Gryffindors tended to be dominated by their emotions - they were utterly ruthless and, yet, were the ones who discovered and experienced the adventures life had to offer. Slytherins tended to see everything in shades of grey and followed their own code and, yet, were the ones who dreamed and hoped. One would die to protect while the other would kill to defend and both were the only ones able to sacrifice the ones they loved for the greater good.

Helga and Rowena were not so different either. Rowena did not choose the smartest ones, but the ones who were willing to question things and who valued knowledge. Helga was a fair woman who accepted everyone who was willing to work hard and believed in equality and valued loyalty overall. Both took the students who seek personal growth instead of glory, students who thought out of the box, students that never conformed to having only two choices and always found another solution... But Hufflepuffs were the cruellest amongst any of the houses. Their intense loyalty would lead them to commit the most vicious acts and, yet, they were the ones who loved and found beauty in life. Ravenclaws were the ones who would obsess with the idea of being defined by their beliefs, the ones who would cut down the people who shadowed them and, yet, were the ones who found wonder in the simplest details that life offered. Once again, one would die and the other would kill, and neither would even consider sacrificing the ones they held close to their hearts.

That is the reason why Harry found their deaths to be ironic. The wise Rowena died because of the pain betrayal brought, unable to find any solution to her plight. The ambitious Salazar died as an unremarkable man, buried in the shade of his son. The gentle Helga died covered with blood and carrying the deaths of dozens because her loyalty would not allow her to stop fighting for the ones she loved. The brave Godric was unable to deal with the consequences that his recklessness brought and did not have the courage to confront his guilt.

What was the most ironic thing, in Harry's opinion, was the existence of a Sorting Hat that possessed marvellous powers and, yet, did not sort into the houses according to the traits that the students possessed. Rather, it sorted them according to the traits that the students admired. Ironic indeed.

Omake: Shipping? Does it have anything to do with Business? (Inspired by the constant request to partner Harry with someone and maybe a bit of Minerva's inner fan-girl which, let's admit, represents all of us).

Harry Potter was confused. No. That was not enough to describe how he was feeling. These last few days, he had noticed how the professors gossiped while looking at him and even how many students blushed when he had some kind of physical contact with another member of the Court. The difference was that the teachers gossiped when he interacted with a female and the students blushed when he interacted with the males. Utterly lost and unwilling to ask anyone in his family, he decided to approach the wise Charms professor.

"So what's been bothering you?" Filius asked the distressed boy.

"Strange things have been happening... Many girls have strange reactions when I interact with my male friends and, if that was not enough, many teachers seem too eager when I interact with my female friends. I don't understand why," the boy complained.

Filius nodded in understanding. Opening his special drawer, he took out the box filled with pastries and handed one to the boy who, for some strange reason, looked insulted instead of being pleased. Was there something wrong with his baking? He was sure that he had used the recipe that his dear grandmother had taught him.

"This will be hard to explain. You are at an age when you start noticing you're attracted to people," Flitwick began explaining.

"Not really," the boy interrupted.

"Could you explain what you mean?" asked the confused teacher.

"I'm not attracted to anyone, though I know what you mean. Too many boys have been eyeing Daphne up, and Blaise would throw himself in the Black Lake if Luna asked him to. I'm able to appreciate beauty; I know when a person is attractive, especially when I see myself in the mirror every single day. However, I don't feel it," the boy shrugged as if it was not important.

"Ehm, well, when you have... you know, those dreams where a person, it doesn't matter the gender... then you wake up and," the man began rambling, feeling embarrassed.

"Aunt Eleadora explained it to me years ago and we had sex-ed in school. I know what's supposed to happen, but I don't have them," the boy explained.

"Not even the urges or... well, you know, when you wake up and, well, when it's-"

"I feel the stimuli," the boy interrupted him and Filius felt like an embarrassed, inexperienced teenager once again, "but not the need. Honestly, I'm fourteen. That's far too young. Anyways, you haven't answered why they keep reacting that way."

"I guess I'll be blunt then. Have you ever heard the word shipping?" Filius asked, recovering his composure.

"Does it have anything to do with business? I have a profitable one involving silk shipping, but how do they know that?" the boy asked with wide eyes.

"No, it has nothing to do with business. How do I phrase it? ...It's the action of wishing that two people enter a romantic relationship," the man explained and watched as the usually calm boy was filled with horror at the realization.

"I'm fourteen," Harry stated.

"Yes, but many teachers think you look 'cute' when interacting with certain people."

"So, may I conclude that the students are, for some strange and perturbing reason, excited in more ways than one when I interact with my friends," the boy said blandly, his face regaining his usual neutral expression.

"Well, yes. Teenagers and even adults tend to find reasons to ship certain people; it may be because of their chemistry, experiences, interactions, background, and many other reasons. This has many different names such as ya-"

"I don't want to know," Harry interrupted. "If you'll excuse me, professor, that's more than enough information that I hope my brain will erase."

The boy left the office with hurried steps, making plans. Perhaps he should transfer to an all-boys school. That thought quickly vanished - in an environment filled with testosterone, many strange things tended to happen, so that was a no... A monastery. Yes, that sounded better. Maybe he could become a monk and get free from the strange world of 'shipping'. Even that word gave him chills.

The members of the Guild wondered what was wrong with Harry. That whole evening, he was muttering about being only fourteen, perverts, shipping, and becoming a monk.

"Maybe he's sulking because he's only fourteen and will not be able to go shipping with perverts to become a monk," Luna concluded, wearing a wide smile.

...So that is how rumours are created.