One of the curious results of building a vast castle on the intersection of leylines is that the building becomes heavily saturated with magic, very quickly. Some might even say it has a mind of its own. The Ritual Room, on the seventh floor of Castle Hogwarts in northern Scotland, was certainly a feature that required such power. It could be converted into anything you wish with a mere thought, at least for the castle's owners, and in the future, their descendants.

The current inhabitants of the Ritual Room made a quite unique group, the likes of which were unlikely to have been seen before. The powerful Headmaster of Hogwarts and presumed greatest magical warrior in Britain looked upon the scene, his beard deepening as he frowned. Next to him stood his best friend, the most skilled in negotiation and working with the magical creatures of the land. The man's wife also watched anxiously, Britain's pre-eminent Conjurer (not to mention sister to the Headmaster). These individuals, it could be supposed, were routine enough within Hogwarts, having made their home here since they, along with four others, built the castle a mere twenty-one years before. It was the other six, carefully and currently preparing the circle they needed, that were the most unique.

"We are confirmed to this course of action, Godric. I will not be dissuaded," Salazar looked across to the Headmaster.

"But the school… what we have…"

"I know, Godric. But Hogwarts will survive without Katalya and I. Britain will survive, indeed; these children have already told us that a 'United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland' survives in their time, even if it means little to them. But this is a threat unlike any other, one which I cannot help but realize could well destroy the world. You'll manage without me, Godric. Will they? Before they came here, they did not even know of magic, and now, with the abilities they did have, the magic is also within them. Should they be captured…" Salazar left the statement hanging, the implication obvious.

"It will mean the death of magic itself. I know, but… surely we can prepare them without you leaving us."

"Perhaps we could. But that is not the ideal situation for them… or frankly for myself, Godric. You have wanted to settle down, spread your roots here. But Katalya and I… that is not our calling. We are adventurers at heart, and would this not be the greatest adventure in human history? A thousand years… assuming the calendars are even still accurate, though what we've discussed implies they are. Discoveries of science the likes of which my mind can barely even comprehend, to where I'm simply accepting it as magic and moving on! Can you imagine the thrill, the challenge? Godric… I am going with them. And Katalya will not be separated from me. It does seem like they could use all the help they could get."

"Very well. I can only hope history remembers the sacrifices you are making," Godric sighed.

Katalya walked up to her husband and brother, "I somehow doubt that, unfortunately. History has a way of being remembered by those that remain longest. Which I suppose means in the end, will be us."

"Katalya…" Godric hesitated. "I know your spirit. I know you'll go, regardless, now, so what I can say is… when you go, try to find our heirs. I'm not married, I might never marry, which means the line survives through your children alone now. It might have died out, and you might be head of the family. Hogwarts will know its descendants."

"I… understand. Good luck with the school, Godric." Katalya murmured.

[We have completed our task, Mr. Slytherin,] a voice interjected into everyone's thoughts.

"Well, I suppose that means goodbye then," Salazar commented. A brief group embrace later, and they found themselves in the center of the circle, magical energy beginning to swirl around the eight inhabitants, and then Godric Gryffindor found himself alone in the Ritual Room.

"…I don't think the room is supposed to look like this, Salazar…" Katalya pointed out. The Ritual Room… well, definitely wasn't in any ritual format. In fact, there was a lot of junk in the room.

"The Ritual Room has been turned into a garbage dump. Lovely." Salazar groused. "And I sense a very powerful source of Dark Magic in the back somewhere."

"Gee, do you think?" Marco asked. He stared at the back of the room. "I'm no wizard, but even I can sense that thing. Gives me the creeps! Let's get out of here."

"We have to destroy it… the rest of you stay here, I shall return momentarily." Salazar headed off.

Katalya nodded and carefully watched him. "Don't worry, he'll be safer without us to worry about. Now… oh crap."

"WHAT?" Jake and Rachel shouted simultaneously, still a bit on edge.

"It appears that control of the wards just shifted to me. For some reason the Headmaster just left his post, and I'm the head of the Gryffindor family, so the Headship defaults to me while I'm here. Lovely. Did not want this," Katalya sighed. "Well, I guess Salazar will be helping you without me, as I'm sure there's plenty of mess in the Wizarding World to clean up, if the Headmaster leaves in the middle of the school year."

"Got it!" Salazar returned. "Some foul beast split their soul, and despoiled Rowena's diadem. I've cleansed the taint, but…" Salazar tossed the broken pieces of diadem at Katalya. She frowned, quickly detected their uselessness, and handed them off to Cassie.

"Useless to us, might be something one of you can do with them. It's just silver and sapphire now, but…"

"Yeah, I have a few ideas," Cassie mused. She tossed them into the makeshift bag the group had brought over from the previous time.

"Okay, let's get to the Head's Office," Jake requested, "get us moving at least. Ax, human morph for you, we don't want people freaking out, or worse, wizard-Controllers recognizing an Andalite. Tobias, same deal, a red-tailed hawk is a bit obvious for Controllers now."

"Ah, I'm afraid we have found our little snag…"

"Snag? I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

"Well, I'm afraid I do. You see, you seem to be laboring under a delusion. Several, in fact. One of which is that I still control the wards to this castle. In fact, the instant you entered the room I felt the wards leave me. And the person who is controlling the wards is not among your Ministry. I wonder… ah, it appears we have… eight more guests. By all means, they may proceed."

A/N: So, that's what I got for this idea. If someone wants to take this idea and run with it, by all means PM me and we'll discuss. I figured from the Animorphs' perspective, a trip to 10th century Scotland could easily replace a trip to Dino-times - when they didn't even get to keep their morphs, and the trip didn't really affect much of anything. Here, of course, the trip affects everything, in both universes. Needless to say I don't own Animorphs - if I did, dinosaur morphs would've totally been used from books 19 and on - and I don't own Harry Potter either - see: all the plotholes.