Morgana Pendragon had Seen, has she Saw many nights in her dreams. However this time was different, she had Seen more far ahead than she had ever seen.
She had seen a small child, a girl, born into magic. She had seen the girl's parents shapeshifting and levitating objects, but the magic was diluted for some reason. Yes the parents, Lily and James, if she had understood correctly, could not do magic without aid.
Sure, many spells required a focus but their connection to the Old Religion was weak and their eyes did not glow golden with power when they waved their stick. They could not even levitate a feather without aid.
She had continued to see as the small child grew until that broken being entered the child's house and murdered her parents. She wasn't afraid of dark magic, however, the thing that had entered that house had committed sins against the magic of old. It was unnatural, and it went against the balance of life and death. For a life one must be given, however, that creature took life to had to his own. Immortality, a being not alive and yet not dead.
She saw as the mother of the child used the ancient magic of blood and sacrifice without even knowing what she truly was doing. Without even knowing she pledged three times for her child, she prayed three times to the goddess and she left a blood protection on her child as she fell to the floor lifeless. The child survived the attack, protected by the power of the goddess and the blood sacrifice of her mother.
Morgana Pendragon knew there and then, in her bones, that the small child was blessed. Blessed by the old religion, blessed by the goddess. This child could lead in her stead, where the old religion was weak and almost gone. This child could give life to the old religion, as the old religion had protected her life. This child would be her successor, even if it was a thousand years from now. Even if she was defeated by Arthur, the old religion would prevail.
So for the next few days she schemed. During the night she would dream of the girl and her terrible disgusting relatives. They reminded Morgana of a few Southern lords, with their fat bodies, fake smiles and terrible manners. During the day, she searched for a way to make the girl truly her successor. She raided the grimoires at her disposal until she found something of use.
She finally found a spell that could send anything anywhere as long as the caster knew the magical essence of the receiver. Luckily enough, seeing the blessing of the child at Samhain had let her feel the girl's magic.
The second problem was the girl's magic, while she was truly blessed by the old religion her magic was still weak compared to Morgana's. She had more raw talent than her parents, but she still had a very weak connection to the religion itself. As such Morgana advised another way to make the girl powerful enough to be a worthy successor- she would send her own blood to the girl and give her directions to do a blood ritual that would make the child her own. If she did it or not would be her own choice.
For power the price would have to be paid, one mother for the other. The girl's mother, Lily, would disappear from her ancestry and Morgana would remain in her stead.
With that in mind, she got a little wooden box where she put a vial of her blood and her healing bracelet next to it. Her bracelet still had the same enchantments that stopped the visions during the sleep. If the girl decided to do the ritual she would most likely gain the Sight since it was a power that runs in High Priestesses. Morgana believed the girl should use the Sight to her own again, but the bracelet helped get the hang of it in the beginning, and the girl would need it.
With everything ready, she wrote a letter to her successor, Drusilla. She introduced herself, told her about magic and the gift of the old religion and explained why she had given the child these gifts.
She was also sending her grimoire, the grimoire passed from High Priestess to High Priestess. She had created a copy of the book for herself and had it connected to her lifeline. The moment she died her copy would cease to exist and all would believe that the high religion was no more, and her successor would be protected in the future.
Dealing with Arthur was getting messier by the years, she had a feeling she would die soon and she would guarantee that her enemies would fall as well.
The Old Religion and the worship of the Three Goddesses would be protected, in the future.
Nine-year-old Drusilla Potter was watering her aunt's garden, while almost dying of sun exposure. It not like her aunt even cared, as long she finished her chores by the end of the day she could die and nobody cared.
She had finally found out her name in school, her name was Drusilla Rosalie Potter. Before going to school she had been the girl, the freak and the brat. Even though the kids at school laughed about her name, saying that with her dark hair and old name she looked like a vampire, she still preferred her name to those names.
Living the life of forced labor had made her cynical, mostly to herself in her head. If she was cynical in the presence of dear old uncle Vernon she would get a backhand slap and a few days without food in her 'room'. She did not consider the cupboard under the stairs her room but it was her safe place, uncle Vernon and Dudley was way too fat to be able to get in there.
It was starting to get dark when she finished her chores in the garden, she went into the shed to put the gardening tools away. Uncle Vernon and Dudley should be getting home soon, and her aunt was in the kitchen listening to the radio.
All of a sudden the wind changed, getting stronger than before and a bright light appeared in front of her. Her eyes were wide as saucers, as she looked around to make sure she was the only one around.
Freaky things, as her relatives said, happened to her. It was a fact that she had accepted. She had yet to know for sure what it was, but they did happen. If she believed the comic books that her cousin threw at her, she was probably a mutant or an alien. She had teleported once when Dudley and his idiotic friends tried to catch her. She had changed the color of the hair of that mean teacher last year to blue, and she had regrown her hair to her mid back when her aunt cut it short two years ago.
She knew that the Dursleys knew what she was, but she wasn't about to ask because they would probably lie. She wasn't even convinced that her parent were truly drunks who had died in a car crash. Her aunt's eyes shined with jealousy every time her mother was mentioned, why would her aunt be jealous of her mother if she was a drunk?
The light show ended and on the ground was a book, a wooden box and a letter written in old parchment. Thinking quickly Drusilla grabbed the objects and hid them under her large t-shirt before she ran into the house.
Once inside, she quietly went to her cupboard and hid the things under her mattress. After it was hidden she went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, during the night she would find out what that was all about.
It was midnight, and she could feel her uncle sleeping as the stairs trembled every time he snored. Drusilla grabbed a small flashlight and grabbed the items that she had hid earlier. The first thing she opened was the letter, it was written in an old and beautiful handwriting.
Dear Drusilla,
I am the last High Priestess of the Old Religion of the Triple Goddess, my name is Morgana Pendragon. I am a witch, a sorceress and so are you. I have the gift of the Sight, I am able to see the past and the future. Two full moons ago I had a vision, a vision of you when you were a small child. I do not believe you know but your parents died protecting you, and your mother was powerful enough to accomplish a blood ritual of the old religion that protected you and left you with the SowilÅ rune of the sun upon your forehead. That left a mark on you and you were blessed by the goddess.
I am said to be the last High Priestess, however, you too were blessed in a way that has been forgotten in your time. The Sight abled me to see you centuries before you were born, and in your present, the Old Religion is dying and very weak.
Your parents were sorcerers, I believe I heard they call themselves wizards and they lived in a sheltered community. I believe the Magics of Old have chosen you to guide the Goddesses and their teachings into the world once more, I believe you are to be my successor.
To you I send three objects. The first is the grimoire that has been passed from High Priestess to High Priestess. Before me, it belonged to my sister Morgause, and before her, it belonged to the Priestess Nimue. It's said to contain every magic known in its pages, from dark to light and from healing to attacking your enemies.
In the box you have two items that you may choose to use, I give them of my own choosing. The first is a vial containing my blood. You see, while you have been blessed, your magic is very diluted and weak compared to the sorcerers of my time. I saw that your parent needed to use a wand to use magic, in my time while a focus is needed for strong spells your parents could not even lift a feather without their wand. As such I give you the option to become of my blood, my daughter. I feel my ending near, I shall die with no progeny of my own as such it would be a pleasure to make you of my own blood, of my own magic. However, let me warn you, should you do the blood adoption ritual that is written in the book I would become your mother and Lily Potter's blood would disappear. It's in your hands.
The second item is an enchanted bracelet that helps you sleep, if you use the blood you may gain the gift of sight as it is a power known to manifest in Priestesses. The bracelet stops you from having visions, while they are a gift, in the beginning, it is hard to control so the bracelet might be needed. However, should you use, be careful. The Sight is meant to be Seen.
I hope you bring the greatness of the Old Religion back to life, as revenge as clouded my mind and stopped me from doing the duties that I should. I only pray you accomplished what I could not, dear successor of mine.
Blessed be,
Morgana Pendragon, High Priestess of the Old Religion of the Three Goddess
Drusilla looked at the letter with wide eyes, and re-read it once more. When she finished she closed the letter and opened the box, as it was said there laid a vial of blood and a old ancient bracelet. The only thing that runs through the girl's head was- Magic!
How had she not see it? The prohibited word in the Dursley household was the freaky thing she could do, of course- Magic was real and she had just received a letter of the most known dark witch from the Arthurian legend, Morgana Le Fay, holy shit. Did that mean that Merlin was real too? Holy Mother of God, or better, Holy Goddess!
There was only one thing left to do. She grabbed the old ancient grimoire sent by the witch from the legends that wanted to become her mother and read away into the night.
Forget the Dursley and the chores, she was a witch and she was sure there was a spell to turn her cousin into a frog in that book somewhere.
Every night she read her magical book, it had spells, enchantments, and curses. Light Magic, Dark Magic, Blood Magic, Rituals and even the teachings of the Old Religions and its beliefs. She had tried a few spells but the only one she had successfully done was a small levitation spell, the stronger ones were beyond her power. This led her to think about Morgana's proposition of adoption.
On one hand, it would remove her mother's presence from her blood, the mother that had died protecting her. The mother that had sacrificed herself to accomplished a powerful blood protection. It tasted like a betrayal to her, to erase the mother who loved her more than life itself.
On the other hand, lady Morgana made a strong point. She was weak, her magic was weak because it had little to no connection to the old religion. Being adopted into old blood would give her the power needed to be the new high priestess. Not only that but Lady Morgana knew her. Knew her name, her parents, her past and more importantly knew her destiny and she wanted her to be blood. One of the most powerful witches to ever exist wanted her as a daughter, as a successor. It was an honor to be wanted. Since her parents died she had never felt wanted and she didn't even remember her parents. Her relatives hated her, she had no friends and there was not a single person in existence that knew her, that wanted her near. But this ancient witch wanted her, and Drusilla felt touched by that.
She decided to wait to make a decision, she would wait a year. If her magic had not grown in that time she would do the blood ritual (that was stupidly simple for a blood ritual mind you) and become Drusilla, the daughter of Morgana Le Fay.
A year had quickly passed, and she could still only do the stupid levitation spell and it would only work with the incantation of the Old Religion. In her grimoire, it said witches could easily levitate things with only their mind, and she could only perform the weakest spell with the use of the incantation.
Well, blood adoption it was. She would regret erasing her birth mother from her blood but the Old Religion always had an equivalent exchange. For power, a sacrifice of equal valor was needed. For blood, she would have to give blood.
The Ritual was simple, she needed to mix her own blood with the blood of Lady Morgana and chant a rhyme during a full moon, and she had to drink it with the sun's first light the morning after.
She went to the public library to use the computer to find out when the next full moon would be and prepared everything. She stole an old cup from the kitchen ( it was supposed to be a cup, like an ancient and made of gold cup, but it should work the same), and mixed sleeping pills with the food she made for the Dursleys that night (they wouldn't die from it, probably).
When the full moon was high she quickly got out of the house, into the back garden, and mixed her blood with Lady Morgana's blood in the cup and left it to bathe in the light of the moon. She said the rhymes in the words of the Old Religion.
From what she understood the rhyme was something like, blood change into the blood of another, or something like that. She sat in the garden the whole night, reading from her book while waiting.
When the sun went up she drank it all, and right after she felt it's effects as she had to stumble back into her cupboard in pain as her blood and magic changed and became in tune with the old religion.
Her aunt tried to get her to work that day, but even Petunia noticed she wasn't in condition to work. Her old dear aunt decided that she was in pain she should stay locked in her cupboard, probably to die alone in the dark. What a lovely woman, that dear old aunt Petunia.
When she woke up finally, it was already late. Her relatives were sleeping, so she stepped into the bathroom to wash her face. The first thing she noticed was that she was taller, her hair was darker and her eyes were a blue-ish green, instead of the emerald green eyes she had received from her mother. The differences were few, but the difference in her magic was a lot stronger.
Now she understood what was written in her grimoire, she could feel everything. She could finally understand the word of the Old Religion. She could feel life and death, she could feel the sacred balance between all people, creatures, and elements of the universe which were meant to be eternally preserved.
She could finally See.
She was almost eleven years old. She felt that change was coming, she felt the change coming soon. She had yet to master the Sight since it had appeared a few days after the blood ritual, but soon she would be able to See through her dreams without the pain that followed.
She had spent the year training her magic and praying to the Goddess. She didn't know what change was coming but she would be ready to do her job as a Priestess.
During Dudley's birthday she talked to a snake, she wondered if it was a blessing of the Goddess but if her grimoire was correct the language of snakes was only spoken by Lamias, creatures created by High Priestesses. She either had snake blood in her or it was a gift from the Goddess. For now, she would hope it was just a gift. She was obviously punished for being a freak by being locked in her cupboard for two days, oh well, it gave time to practice her meditation.
On her birthday something strange happened, something unexpected. A letter addressed to her showed up, of course uncle Vernon found it and destroyed it. But all of a sudden various copies of the same letter came, delivered by owls. Weird, super smart owls. Yeah, uncle Vernon freaked out because of the freaking owls and decided we should all have a vacation in an old hut, on an island, in the middle of nowhere. Super duper fun.
Well, it was fun enough when a freaking giant came out of nowhere searching for her.
"Oh de'r Dru'sila you'va grown la'ge." The giant said in broken English looking towards Dudley, I found that greatly offensive. Did I look like a mini fat male whale? I think not.
"I'm Drusilla, who're you?" I replied, arching a brow at the rather large man. I felt the Old Religion in him, his magic had a rather weak connection to the Old Religion but his body was surrounded by it.
"Ohh." The man said embarrassed. "I'ma Rubeus Hagrid. Kep'pa of Keys of Hogwarts. I knew ye when ye w're a babe. C'urse, you'll know all about Hogwarts."
"Uh, no." I replied skeptically.
"No? Blimey Dru'sila didn't you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?" The man asked. Of course, I wanted to say of course I wanted to know, but I played the ignorant child.
"Learned what?"
"You're a Witch Drusilla." The man exclaimed, and I let out a mental sigh. I was no simple Witch, I was a priestess, but I simply nodded silently.
Let see where this Keeper of Keys takes me.
So apparently Witches in this century went to a school called Hogwarts to learn how to use magic instead of studying grimoires. They also, apparently, needed a wand to use said magic just as Lady Morgana had said.
I was taken by the giant, Hagrid, to a place full of magical shops after passing through a bar that looked like a tavern from the sixteenth century. The Magical community had lost it's connection to the Old religion and it had grown weird.
People used dress robes like those of the dark ages, and she had seen a few witches using hats like the ones from children's stories. They flew in brooms and used howls to correspond for Morgana's sake. The place felt like magic, yet the bond with the magic of old was almost nonexistent.
The people were definitely weird too, some had seen her scar- the rune of the sun- and had wanted to hug her, weirdly enough. How could they understand the blessing behind the rune and want to hug her when they didn't know the Old Religion? These people were definitely strange.
Hagrid took her to a bank, run by goblins. Well, her grimoire described them as greedy so she wasn't that surprise about them controlling the gold. What she was surprised about was the fact that she apparently had money, lots of it.
After she grabbed a bunch of money she went shopping. She went wild buying books about the magic practiced in this century. Then she went wand shopping, not like she needed the thing much but like other methods of focus, it could help with controlling magical power, if one didn't use only the focus to use magic like these idiots did.
The wandmaker was a creep, that's for sure. Tried to make her have a holy wand with a phoenix feather, but it just didn't click. She did feel a connection to one of the wands in the back, so she just went and grabbed it, tired of being in the dusty shop.
"Intriguing wand that chose you, Miss Potter." The wandmaker said, looking at her with creepy eyes. "The wood is carved from the ancient Rowan tree, said to come from the Isle of the Blessed itself. The core is the tooth of an ancient dragon, or so my great-grandfather said in his journals. That wand was his masterpiece, the greatest wand he ever made."
"That's cool." Drusilla replied dryly, rolling her eyes at the man.
She wouldn't even be surprised if it ready was wood from the Isle of the Blessed, she was a Priestess it was normal if the ancient magics found their way into her hands. Hell, the scale could have been from the Great Dragon himself and she wouldn't even be surprised. She felt the strong connection of her wand to the Old Religion, it was the only thing that felt right in this 'wizarding world'.
She went shopping for 'wizarding' clothes. The fact that they wore robes was still hitting her hard. She was a Priestess, they wore long dresses and looked bad ass (if the descriptions in her grimoire were to be believed) not robes from the ancient ages.
She made sure to make the lady from the shop show her a few long dressed, she was a Priestess and she would not be caught wearing robes.
"Why are you so insistent on dresses, in Hogwarts you'll have to dress accordingly anyway." A blond kid said from her left side, where he tried on his robes.
"I'm a Priestess Of the Old Religion, my duties required that I dress accordingly." She replied. The blond seemed like a good first person to convert to her religion. After all, the priests of a religion have to share it with the world.
"Old Religion?" He asked, completely lost.
"The Old Religion is based on the philosophy of a sacred balance between all people, creatures, and elements of the universe which must be eternally preserved. At the heart of the religion is the balance between life and death itself." She dutifully explained. "It was the religion followed by Lady Morgana. To pray to the Goddesses is to pray to Magic itself. The stronger the Faith, the stronger you are. To learn the Old Religion one must be one with faith. The magic of the Old Religion allows sorcerers to weave power into the fabric of the world, making solid what it is in the mind, and un-solid what it is already solid."
The young blond seemed stupefied when she finished before he could ask more she quickly paid for a few dresses and left.
He would be one of the first initiated to the Old Religion, Drusilla just knew it.
She was able to find the train, Hagrid had forgotten to warn her but being able to feel the magic she was able to find the entrance. She found an empty spot and locked the door magically, she had much to study and she didn't want her duties to be interrupted by these non-believers.
The castle was cute, because really she didn't have another adjective. It looked like a castle from medieval times, just had a few knights and a throne and it might be realistic.
Forget it, the white-bearded guy with sparkly robes already has a throne. A bloody golden throne, not too shabby. Hell, the damn castle even had stars in the ceiling. She was sure even Camelot couldn't beat this, but the Isle of the Blessed would of course look way cooler.
They had a talking hat, again magic was wasted with these fools. Did they call that an enchanted object? What happened to dear old enchanted jewelry and swords?
The Hat also talked to you in your mind, it felt strange. People also kept looking at her and whispering her name, well at least they knew they should respect the presence of a Priestess at least.
"That's not why they whisper High Priestess, they whisper because you are famous for surviving the killing curse." The had said, as it sat on her head.
"It was my mother's ritual that did it not me, she's the one that should be famous for completing such a ritual with such a weak connection to the Old." She replied to the sentient Hat.
"Indeed, now where to sort you. Hmmm." The hat continued. "You are brave, but you will not go down in the blazes of battle. You are loyal, but only to yours and the cause you believe in. You enjoy knowledge, but you do not seek it without cause. You are ambitious, but you must be in such a role. Where do you which to go?"
"Put me in the house that will help me raise the Old Religion once again into greatness." She replied.
"Well then SLYTHERIN it is." The had said, screamed the name of the House out loud.
People were too shocked to clap, but she didn't mind it. Plus it was kind of fitting that she, as a snake speaker, went into the house of snakes.
Her first two years of 'magical' school went by quickly, she spent them sharing her religion to all that listened. Well, she mostly forcibly turned all of the Slytherin first years into followers of the Goddess using Draco as a sword and shield. The Purebloods had long enough bloodlines that they had their own family grimoire that mentioned from time to time the Old Religion, even if they didn't know much about it.
She ignored the fact that the rest of the school believed she was the next Dark Lady, she was a Priestess she had no time to play Dark Lady. She also ignored the multiple obvious plans that Dumbledore had planned for her, she didn't know nor did she care about his slight obsession with her (whatever it was). She believed it was something to do with the Dark Lord her mother had destroyed with the blood ritual, but she mostly ignored the old man and his twinkling eyes. He had a strong foot in the Old Religion, he seemed to follow the rules of balance of the Goddesses so she had no need to talk with him, no need to convert him.
She didn't care about the Philosopher's stone, but she did look into the magic of the Mirror of Erised which were similar to the magic of the Sidhe. She did kill the Basilisk, but mostly because it went insane and because Ginny Weasley was an 'almost' follower of the Religion together with her friend Luna and because it had attacked another one of the new believers- Hermione Granger.
In two years, the magics of Old were increasing with more believers and practitioners. She had taught the Slytherins a few rituals and easy spells of the Magic of The Old Religion. Even if she had to start sacrificing blood during Samhain to the Cailleach (the gatekeeper of the spirit world) Old Religion would once again be worshiped and the triple Goddess would once again rule the land.
Soon enough magic would return, she had Seen it after all.
Now she just had to survive a werewolf and dementors next year, snake face and a competition the year after, a bitch in pink the year after that and most likely end the stupid blood war before the Old Religion's Magic was weakened once more.
Twenty year old Drusilla Potter, walked in the busy streets of London. She had defeated dear old Snake Face just for the fact that the stupid blood war was stopping her goal of sharing the Old Religion with the World. Plus, the killing of magic (even if they had weak connections to the magics of Old) weakened the triple Goddess.
So she killed the idiot, really Horcruxes? Going against the balance of life and death? The asshole had it coming, she should have made it more painful.
So now she was more famous than before, and she obviously used this to spread the Religion. Magic, true Magic, was awakening once again. Hell, she knows taught the old religion and its spells and rituals at Hogwarts. The younger the followers, the stronger their Faith and Power. Her eyes now glowed gold when she used magic, and the same was starting to happen to some of her students.
She felt like she was truly accomplishing the mission that her adoptive blood mother had given her, she had brought Greatness to the Old Religion once more.
She was thinking to herself when she went against a strong male body.
"Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going." She replied, barely looking at the guy she went against when she felt the power that he had. It was like he was the personification of Magic, as she was the personification of the Old Religion. She knew who he was in her bones. She let out a small smirk.
"It's ok." The man replied, as he pulled the cigar from his lips and looked at her. If she didn't know better she would never think that this guy was ancient.
"Hello, Myrddin." She whispered to herself as she continued her path, not even he would stop her now.
A/N: I was bored today, I finally finished my exams and I was like why not write a one-shot? I never wrote one before. So I got this idea, not sure if it really that good. I mostly started trolling in the middle of it. It started all serious and by the middle, I was trolling everything with cynical commentaries about the wizarding world. You love, or you hate it? Let me know.