We are at our most powerful the moment we no longer need to be... - Eric Micha'el Leventhal

(!)(!)(!)

Severus Snape's words echoed in his mind as he raced down the hall.

"...I don't want to see you in my office ever again! You deserve everything the Dark Lord has planned for you and more!"

His mind was still reeling from what he had seen in the pensieve. His father and Sirius were bullies. The same sort of bullies that had tormented him in primary school. There was a good chance that he himself would have been the type victimized by James and Sirius' brand of pranking.

Taking random turns in the dungeons, he eventually came to stop in a dark hallway, pressing his palms against the cool stone. Gasping for air, he pressed the top of his head against the stone, hoping that if he pushed hard enough he could rid himself of the traitorous memories while he stared at his trainers. His father and godfather were bullies of the worst kind...and he looked just like his father. Everyone was always commenting that he was like his father; the looks, the natural Quidditch talent, the same magical skills. Many people, including Sirius, only saw James Potter when they looked at him. The rest could only see the Boy Who Lived; no one simply saw Harry.

"Did a lion get lost in the snake pit?"

Harry jerked away from the wall and turned to face the voice, quickly pulling his wand. Malfoy stood a few feet away backed up with his small group of cronies from Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad; a total of five . Harry was grossly outnumbered and in unfriendly territory with no obvious or easy escape. Keeping his wand drawn but pointing towards the floor, he held up one hand.

"I don't want any trouble, Malfoy. I'll just leave and go back to my tower," Harry said, hoping against hope that Malfoy would choose to act out of his norm.

"Really? Do you think you can just come and go anywhere you please, Potter? That you can trespass in our territory and still walk away safely? And they call me arrogant."

"Malfoy, I truly don't want any trouble. Just go on your way and I'll go mine."

"I don't think so. You don't have Granger or Weasley here to cover your back. I think you need to be taught a lesson about what happens to solo lions when they stray from the pride," Malfoy snapped, his entourage giving him extra courage.

As though in slow motion, Harry watched three separate wands raising towards him. Deserve everything, a phantom voice whispered through his mind. His bully of a father and godfather. The Umbitch and her blood quill. Suddenly being the third wheel, watching your two best friends be in a relationship while pretending not to be in a relationship to not hurt him. Life long banishment from Quidditch. The scars from the Dursleys. Scars from the Basilisk. The-Boy-Who-Lived, destined to save them all. Why should he continue to live if this was all that awaited him?

All of these thoughts raced through Harry's mind in the space of one heartbeat; it was all the time he needed to make his decision. Just as he saw the first spell's magic erupt towards him, he relaxed his fingers, letting his wand fall to the stone floor.

He was done.

(!)(!)(!)

Poppy Pomfrey stepped back to appreciate her newly organized shelves. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she relaxed, beginning to rub at her lower back and rolling her neck to ease the tight muscles. Suddenly having the urge to take a quick walk and stretch her legs, she cast a notification spell over the infirmary before leaving. It was just past curfew and the halls were blessedly silent as she lengthened her gait to stretch her muscles. Giving no thought to her destination, her feet led her down random halls until she found herself in the dungeons, which was a surprise. She couldn't remember the last time her walks took her into the bowels of the castle. She was turning to head back to the infirmary when her nose caught a faint but unforgettable scent. She had been a healer all her adult life, she knew the odor of spilled blood. Grabbing her wand, she quickly cast a strong Lumos and started searching. It didn't take long, as soon as the charm was cast she could see the light reflected back from something nearby. Hurrying forward, she gasped at the pool of blood still gathering in the dips and hollows of the ancient stones.

"No," she murmured when she found the source of the spilled blood.

Her heart broke over the sight of one of her favorite students splayed brokenly over the dark stones. His deathly pale skin was a stark contrast against his blood stained shirt and dark hair.

"Oh Harry."

Summoning Pimsy, her preferred infirmary elf, she quickly did what she could with her wand. Seeing Harry's wand nearby, she reached across the boy to snag the slim piece of wood, tucking it safely into her apron pocket. The elf popped into existence as Poppy cast a Patronus.

Turning to the elf, Poppy ordered sharply, "Pimsy, take us to the infirmary." She gripped Harry's shoulder firmly before reaching out to the elf.

A small hand gripped hers and they disappeared, reappearing a moment later in the infirmary. Pimsy had aimed perfectly as Potter already rested on a bed, the blood sluggishly soaking into the linens.

"I need Dittany and several Blood-Replenishing potions."

As soon as the potion and vial were in her hands, she spelled the potion into Potter's stomach before treating the visible wounds with Dittany. The door at the end of the infirmary opened suddenly and Pomona Sprout waddled in, clad in her night clothes.

"Poppy, I came at once when I received your summons. What's wrong?"

"It seems that Harry Potter was attacked in the hallways. I need your help. Can you finish with the Dittany while I check for other spells or hexes?"

Pomona nodded, accepting the vial gingerly. She grimaced when she saw the extent of damage that had been done. Poppy spelled another Blood-Replenishing potion into Potter and both women worked frantically to repair the damage. It was another hour before Poppy stepped back; she hesitated to say they were out of the woods, but she was cautiously hopeful. Pomona summoned two chairs and collapsed in one while Poppy changed Potter's ruined clothing and the soiled bedding into clean linens and an infirmary gown, pulling the blanket up to cover him. She finally sank into the second chair with a soft groan, dimming the lights slightly with a tired wave of her hand.

"Do you know his prognosis?" Pomona asked softly, looking at the young man who was still far too pale.

"I'm not sure. He lost a lot of blood before I got to him. In another twenty minutes, he might have been too far along to save. As it is, he might have some sort of brain damage from the loss of blood and oxygen," Poppy replied, mentally reciting the facts.

"Brain damage?" Pomona questioned softly, horrified by the possibility.

The medi-witch nodded. "He's currently in a coma. He could come out of it tomorrow or next week." Or never, she thought to herself, not willing to voice her fears aloud.

Both women sat in silence as they considered the implications of the possible outcomes. Poppy huffed, standing from her chair abruptly, she marched into her office and faced the various portraits scattered throughout the room.

"Attention all former Infirmary Heads of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I, Madam Poppy Pomfrey, current Head of the Infirmary at Hogwarts request your aid. A student has been grievously injured in these halls. The attack occurred within the last ninety minutes. I request you speak with the portraits guarding these halls and report any individuals that have returned to their dorms within that time frame. I thank you for your assistance," Poppy directed, looking at each of the portraits.

Each figure nodded and disappeared to carry out their orders. These portraits were loyal to the Infirmary and no one else. Poppy remained in place staring at the empty canvases for a moment before she slumped tiredly, rubbing her forehead. She turned and walked back to her patient, watching as Pomona gently wiped away the dried blood on Potter's face.

"Hopefully we'll have an answer by morning."

Pomona nodded before sitting back. "Have you told the Headmaster?"

"No. I'll inform him and the other Heads of Houses after I see how Mr. Potter does through the night. Thank you for helping, Pomona."

"I am always willing to help, Poppy. I will see you in the morning."

Pomona waddled out, leaving Poppy alone in the infirmary with her patient. Working quietly, Poppy went about cleaning away the blood by hand, with a warm damp cloth. The risk of further magic interfering with everything else she had done was too great. By the time she was finished, she was fuming over what she had learned from the young man's body. Taking copious notes, the medi-witch sighed, casting various monitoring spells over the young man before retiring to her bed. She mulled over how she would handle the coming day and informing the Headmaster of the fate of his golden-boy.

(!)(!)(!)

While the Madam had worked, the castle itself started to communicate. From highest tower to deepest dungeon, nearest classroom to furthermost greenhouse; it had been many ages since the entire castle had conferred as one. The blood seeping into its stones and foundation had a history; it had a story; a sad tale for any who cared to listen. This blood carried the strength and conviction that made the best of warriors. There was also the intelligence and cunning common to the best of leaders. But the owner of this blood had been beaten, worn down by outside forces. The castle needed to meet this young man who could perhaps change the future for the better.

(!)(!)(!)

Harry blinked, but it was another moment before he realized he was actually awake. Expecting to see the blurry, vaulted ceiling of the infirmary, he was confused when he just saw...white. Nothing but pure white; he was unable to see where it began or ceased. It was silent as well. No sounds of students moving around beyond the infirmary doors. No rustle of parchment as Madam Pomfrey perused patient charts. No clinking of flasks or goblets being organized and shelved.

Slowly pushing himself up, Harry looked around, still only seeing endless white. When he turned towards the other direction, he at last saw something to break up the monochromic expanse. A burning fire pit with five tall back chairs surrounding it.

"Come and join us, Harry."

He flinched, the sudden sound was loud after the absolute silence. The voice seemed to come from the direction of the chairs; chairs Harry could see held people whom he faintly recognize, but he couldn't remember from where. Slowly standing, he brushed himself off, looking around one last time before approaching the chairs. The first chair he reached was empty and he carefully ran his hands over the fabric before gripping the frame.

The woman in the chair immediately to his left was dressed in a gown of dark green and warm yellow tones. Flaming red hair was casually twisted into a bun at the base of her neck. She was pale like most gingers but she looked healthy and robust.

Beside her sat another woman, this one also pale but with dark brown hair that fell in waves. Her gown was of dark blues and dark greys which complimented her fair complexion. Dark green intelligent eyes watched him observe her and he swallowed tightly. She was one to be wary of.

The next chair held a man with dirty blond hair and a greying beard that, had he been standing, fell almost to his navel. As it was, the long fingers of one hand toyed with the length while his other rubbed at his green and grey robes. His grey eyes studied Harry for a moment before darting to look at the other man of the group, the final figure within the circle.

The last man was dressed in dark reds and browns with dark brunet hair. His brown eyes were cold and calculating as his fingers drummed out a steady beat on the chair arm. His other hand held a wand which kept another staccato beat against his knee.

"He is not exactly what I expected."

This came from the third chair; the man in green and grey. Before Harry could control himself, his eyes narrowed and his lips twitched in a silent snarl. It was a habit he had picked up dealing with Umbridge, when speaking got him into too much trouble.

"Oh, but that snarl just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, Salazar," the second woman commented, her eyebrows climbing at Harry's immediate response to the man's comment.

"Who are you? And where am I?" Harry asked, eyeing the wand still tapping steadily against its knee.

"Please, have a seat Mr. Potter. We are not here to harm you. You have suffered enough at the hands of others."

This came from the dark haired woman again and Harry shot her withering glare as he slowly moved around the chair to seat himself. He felt heat coming from the fire but once he thought about it, he realized he only expected the heat instead of felt it. Narrowing his eyes at the fire and then his surroundings, he looked back to the four individuals.

"I'm either having a dream or I'm dead. Which is it?"

"Which do you think?"

Harry wanted to snarl again; he hated riddles. Dumbledore had gotten bad with the riddles lately and he was getting sick and tired of being fed small tidbits of information only when it was a case of life or death. He wished someone would give him all the important information, even the not important information, and let him make his own decision. Putting his analytical mind to use, he again looked around at their surroundings and then back at the four individuals.

"Possibly something in between. I remember being attacked, so I doubt I came out unscathed. Meaning, I'm probably in the infirmary. However, my other experiences in the infirmary and with taking potions didn't include hallucinations. Add to that, the fact that I am here, talking with you four...whatevers, suggests that all this is going on in my head. So, perhaps an out of body experience or a coma?" he offered, looking at each of them.

One was nodding and the others looked slightly more impressed than moments before. "I will retract my earlier statement. He does have some intelligence."

The man with the dirty blond hair nodded at Harry as he released his beard to clasp his hands in his lap. "Mr. Potter, you are indeed in a coma. Your body is currently located in the infirmary of Hogwarts. After your attack, you almost bled to death at the scene. Your blood seeped deep into the stones of the castle and it reached us. We are the founders of Hogwarts. Our souls reside deep within the castle and we were...concerned by what your blood imparted to us. But that is for later. First, let us introduce ourselves. I am Salazar Slytherin, House of the Serpent."

The woman beside him straightened in her chair before dipping her head respectfully towards him. "I am Rowena Ravenclaw, House of the Eagle."

The other woman held a hand loosely over her heart and also nodded in greeting. "I am Helga Hufflepuff, loyal badger to the Earth."

Harry's head swung to the last man, knowing who he had to be. The last man steepled his fingers in front of his face before lowering them briefly to speak. "I am, of course, Godric Gryffindor, House of the Lion. Why did your guardians hate you so much?"

Harry twitched at the non-sequitur into a topic he wasn't very comfortable with.

"The list of why they didn't hate me would be so much shorter. Just be satisfied that they hated everything about me from my grades to my appearance to the sound of my voice. Why are the four founders of Hogwarts conferring with me in my mind?" Harry asked.

"We wish to impart to you a very prestigious gift-"

"You can keep your gift. Any time I've been given gifts by strangers it has never turned out well for me," he replied, staring at Helga who had spoken, but keeping his senses open to keep tabs on the other three.

"Nevertheless, after reviewing your memories, we four have voted to deem you our heir," Godric said with a bright smile, expecting the young man to debase himself in gratitude.

Instead, Harry raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and tilted his head in the universal, 'Yeah, so?' expression.

Rowena rolled her eyes while Salazar snorted inelegantly. Helga just grimaced and shifted in her seat. Rowena cleared her throat, drawing Harry's attention to her.

"There are two sorts of heirs in the magical world. There is the more common blood heirs which come about as you would expect. The offspring of a successful mating inheriting the name and prestige associated with that name. Once the elder passes on then the eldest offspring inherits everything," Rowena explained as Harry nodded in understanding.

"The other is a bit more complicated," Salazar interjected, leaning forward in his seat.

"There is also such a thing as a magical inheritance, which is passed on not by blood but by intent. An elder can even decide to select a magical heir that is not a part of the family, however that is uncommon. If there is no one that the elder deems worthy, then the magical inheritance can be held in a dormant state until someone that is deemed worthy appears and proves themselves," he explained, watching as Harry appeared to settle himself for a long conversation.

"If you are a part of Hogwarts, how aware are you of what goes on in the magical world?"

The four founders traded brief glances before Helga replied. "If it is spoken of in our halls and the various rooms, then we are aware of it."

"Then you know that Tom Marvolo Riddle has long proclaimed himself as Slytherin's only heir. Granted, he has never specified which type of heir he is, but I doubt he would tout being your heir if he wasn't both your blood and magical one," Harry pointed out, glancing at Salazar as the man snorted.

"That...thing...may be a blood descendent but he is a far cry from my magical heir. He lacks the characteristics that are inherent to the House of the Serpent. You, however, possess the characteristics of all four houses to some degree. You hide some of your best traits, intentionally letting people underestimate you. Why?"

Harry snorted and looked away from the curious stares of his companions. "If people expect nothing from you but the bare minimum then it's easier to get away with certain things. My name usually never comes up on a list of suspects and if it does, then someone argues that I'm not bright enough or stealthy enough or 'something' enough. Makes it easier for me in the long run."

"You are a complex wizard, young Harry," Helga commented, as a coffee table appeared adorned with a tea service.

The founders were surprised at its appearance but Harry leaned forward and started to make himself a cup. He glanced at the four and shrugged his shoulders while stirring in the sugar.

"What? It's my head and I wanted a cup of tea," he replied, taking his cup and leaning back in his chair.

"Alright, I'm not convinced yet. But talk to me about this magical heir business."

(!)(!)(!)

The early risers at Hogwarts were treated to a unique sight that morning when an infirmary elf, along with several other Hogwarts house elves, popped into existence in front of the teachers' table in the Great Hall. A moment later, they rose, almost as one, the Headmaster and every Head of House stood from the table and left the room.

A few moments later, all five teachers converged on the infirmary but they were abruptly stopped just inside the entrance by the Head-Matron herself. She glared at all of them, holding her wand at the ready.

"Poppy, your elf said there was an attack on a student," Minerva said, glancing around, searching the visible beds.

The bed located closest to Pomfrey's office was surrounded by privacy screens and the group moved forward with purpose. The location was enough to indicate the severity of the attack; the beds closest to the office were for the patients that required close monitoring. With barely a twitch of her wand, Pomfrey erected a magical shield to keep the teachers back. She would not be hindered in her duty.

"The student is in no condition to be seen by anyone. The attack was a grievous one and if I am honest, I am hesitant to say if the student will live, let alone awaken. Time and rest will be the best healers right now and I will ensure that the student gets both. I shall also ensure that those responsible are punished."

At those words, the infirmary doors opened to admit eleven students chaperoned by four house elves since the students were members of all houses. The Heads of Houses turned to look at the students and anyone watching would have seen all of the Heads tense with the realization that one of their house members may have been responsible for the attack. To add to the party, the infirmary doors opened once again to admit the pink clad form of Dolores Umbridge.

"Dolores, this is none of your concern," Dumbledore assured.

The now familiar simpering voice replying, "Well of course it is, Albus. You've brought in students suspected in a crime. If lawlessness is acceptable behavior at this school then the Minister will hear of it."

Minerva and Pomona were about to protest but Poppy waved them all silent, taking her rightful control of the situation before stronger personalities could take over and they lost sight of why they all were there.

Poppy addressed the eleven students before her. "Last night, shortly before curfew, a student was grievously wounded in the hallways and may not survive the next twenty-four hours. The portraits have reported that you eleven reported to your dorm between the time of the attack and curfew. As Head-Matron of Hogwarts Infirmary, it is my right to investigate an attack on a student under my care. You eleven will submit your wands for inspection. Immediately."

Before the students could acquiesce or protest, Umbridge stepped forward with a small smile.

"Excuse me for intruding, Poppy, but you are simply the school's nurse. If there has been wrongdoing at this school then we should summon the Aurors. An attack would fall under their jurisdiction," she replied, pulling her wand to summon the Aurors.

"Actually," Minerva interjected, "the school's bylaws do state that any criminal offense committed on the grounds of the school by a student or staff member does not have to be reported to any outside force until seventy-two hours has passed. This allows for the school to solve its own internal offenses or disputes. Poppy is well within her rights to investigate."

"I see."

Poppy ignored all of this as she tested the various students and their wands. Simply asking a few questions revealed that two of them, a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin, were in a relationship and had had an intense snogging session in the library. Nothing in their wand history indicated they were lying. A Hufflepuff had sneaked down to the kitchens for a snack because all of her friends were on a diet but she wasn't. She only pretended that she was on a diet as well to be supportive; her wand was also clean. Three others who were first years simply got lost and barely made it back to their dorms to beat curfew; they didn't even know any offensive spells. The last five though were all Slytherins, and upper years, who stared darkly at the infirmary doors as they closed behind the departing first years. Severus watched in silence, knowing even without legilimency that these five were guilty of attacking the student. He could only hope that it wasn't the student he thought it might be. But knowing young Malfoy was involved almost cemented his certainty of who the injured party might be.

"Well, Mr. Krilson, Miss Bulstrode, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Storkin and Mr. Uhrmquit. Do you have anything to say before I inspect your wands?" Poppy asked, holding her hand out for the first wand.

Draco sneered. "We were performing our duty as assigned by High Inquisitor Umbridge."

"Your duty?" Poppy asked softly and both Albus and Minerva instinctively took a step back. They had both heard that tone of voice before. It indicated oncoming trouble.

Umbridge straightened and smiled slightly.

"Yes. My Inquisitorial Squads have my utmost faith and act in my stead."

The next moment Poppy figuratively exploded.

"Does acting in your stead include almost murdering a defenseless student? Does it also include continuing to hex and curse said student when they were already down and wounded? Does that include permitting your squad to use any spells, including Unforgivables? I question how a student was able to cast an Unforgivable in a school that should have a ward to monitor and neutralize that," Poppy snarled at the stout woman.

Everyone gaped in silent shock until the students started protesting; Malfoy the loudest. Poppy Pomfrey may have seemed like a placid, run of the mill or everyday mediwitch, but when her ire got up she was as dangerous as some of the most powerful witches or wizards. Silencing the students with an easily cast charm, she summoned the five wands without further ado and smiled when they all came flying into her hand. Her magic always did work better when she was angry.

"We didn't cast anything! Marissa and I didn't do it!" Uhrmquit cried, cutting his eyes towards the other three.

Poppy pursed her lips tightly, not responding to the claim. Not even looking at the few guilty faces, she cast Prior Incantato and watched as the words drifted from the tip of the first wand she searched. Uhrmquit spoke the truth; his wand and Storkin's were clean. Returning the wands to their respective owner, she dismissed those two before turning her ire to the other three. Her teeth ground together when she cast again and saw the variety of curses and hexes; her mind supplying the associated damage to the body that she had to fix with each revealed spell. By the time all three wands were tested, the extent of the damage inflicted on the student had been revealed and it sickened the adults present.

"He never even tried to defend himself. And when he was down, you continued to hex him like the cowards you are," she snarled softly with enough venom to make the three Slytherins flinch.

Before anyone could speak, Poppy snapped her wand towards the empty fireplace. Green fire flared up and the next moment two Aurors stepped out from the flames along with Pimsy.

Poppy pointed a quivering finger at Umbridge. "And you! You cruel, terrible toad! Using a blood quill on students in your detentions, in my school! You punish those who ask logical questions that you don't want to answer, you punish those who tell the truth that you don't want to admit, you punish those that don't conform to the box you built for them. Well, I hope you enjoy your box at MLE because that's where you're going to be shortly, along with these three miscreants."

With a swirl of her matron's robes that rivaled that of the present Potions Master, Poppy turned to the Aurors and lifted her chin.

"Thank you for coming so quickly. I would like to file charges against these four. These students attacked an unarmed student in the hallways, used various curses and hexes, as well as Unforgivables, against him and left him for dead. The...pink toad used a recognized dark object on various students; number unknown as of yet."

Albus stepped forward, shocked at how quickly things had escalated. "Now Poppy, we don't need to bring the Ministry in on this. I'm sure-"

Poppy's glare was so fierce that the older wizard recoiled. "I don't know what you mean by 'we', Headmaster. I am not bringing in the Ministry. I am bringing in the MLE and Pimsy has already provided Madam Amelia Bones with all of my notes because I know she will not allow this to be swept under the proverbial rug.

"And yes, Mr. Malfoy, your father will hear about this, about how you instigated a cowardly attack on an unarmed student with two others to help you. I will take pleasure in announcing, to everyone who will listen, how the only way Draco Malfoy can battle a fellow student wizard is with backup and if the wizard is unarmed."

Draco blanched and shook his head, the fear of that particular knowledge getting back to his father plain on his face. He never saw Pomfrey turning her ire back to the Headmaster.

"No more, Albus. I will no longer tolerate you putting your students above the law and thinking them exempt. It sets a bad precedence and leaves lasting impressions," Poppy snapped, glancing towards Severus and remembering when a stupid prank was moments away from being a deadly one.

Severus flushed at the memory of the Shrieking Shack and the painful shock he had felt when Albus simply did what Poppy was now accusing him of: 'sweeping it under the rug.' Dropping his gaze, he listened to Albus and Poppy as Umbridge shrieked her outrage at this "uppity" nurse.

"I have done nothing wrong!"

Poppy's wand was pointed towards Umbridge so suddenly and with such a smooth fluidness that the shriek died with a terrified yelp and then silence. "You said when you entered this room that your Inquisitorial Squads act in your stead. I take that to mean that you supported them using Unforgivables on fellow students. That is just as serious as if you yourself held the wand and spoke the incantation. So that's another charge that can be placed at your feet, Dolores."