As he made his way through the school, almost running out of the toilet to evade Myrtle, Regulus conjured another scabbard and disillusioned the blade he was carrying.

He was lost in thought as he made his way to his quarters, desperate to get into the journal that he had discovered. It was of course, a significant historical find, but he was quite determined to keep it to himself until he ensured that the information wasn't dangerous in any way.

He entered his chambers, and as if drawn to the blade, immediately revealed it. He drew it's magnificent length out again, and admired it. On a whim, he decided to compare the two blades, and made his way to the side of his bed, where Gryffindor's sword was propped against his nightstand.

He hefted the second sword in his left hand, and stared at the twins in wonder. They were practically identical.

It happened suddenly.

The Emerald on Slytherin's blade was pulsing a deep green, in time with a matching glow from the Ruby on the pommel of Gryffindor's sword. With a deep crackle of magic, a spark seemed to flow between them, and the two gems connected with a deep gold light.

Panicking, Regulus tried to let go of one or both of the swords, completely uncertain as to what was happening. He couldn't seem to drop them. He was forcibly reminded of that fateful night in the graveyard when Voldemort had been resurrected and their wands had connected. There was the same vibration, and the two blades were inexorably drawn towards each other.

He gave a small gasp as he hands were forced together, crossing the two blades. There was a flash of white light, and Regulus knew no more for a while.

Dumbledore was sitting in his office, pondering his youngest and newest friend, when Groffy popped in.

"Headmaster Dumblydore, Sir!" squeaked the elf, wringing his hands together. "Something be happening to the Black master, in the guest chambers!" his eyes were even more huge than they normally were.

With a jolt of fear, the aged Headmaster lurched out of his chair and hurried out of his office.

He entered the guest quarters tentatively, and was amazed to see Harry passed out of the floor, two swords crossed over his heart, looking like one of the knights of old laid to rest.

He seemed to be breathing regularly, and his eyes flickered behind his eyelids, as if he was dreaming.

His lips occasionally moved, as he mumbled something that couldn't be heard. His facial expressions kept changing as well, from a frowning visage to one of grim determination.

Not letting his alarm get the better of him, Dumbledore disillusioned the young man, and levitated him towards the hospital wing. Where had he got the second sword? He wondered as he made his way as quickly as he could, trying to avoid the lunch rush.

Madam Pomfrey was sitting down to an early lunch when he walked into the Hospital wing, and immediately revealed Regulus, and levitated him onto a bed.

"What's he gone and done now?!" she cried in alarm, as she rushed from her seat towards the young man who had only recently left her tender ministrations.

She gave the Headmaster a quizzical look when she saw the two swords, but decided not to move them if the Headmaster had also come to the same decision. She let them be, his knuckles white as he grasped both the hilts.

"I don't honestly know." said Dumbledore quietly, looking at the young man pensively. He seemed to attract strange and ancient magic that hadn't been seen in centuries, and Dumbledore was baffled as to what was happening at the moment. Nothing in his long life had prepared him for dealing with a time-traveler, who was immensely powerful and part of a prophecy.

Madam Pomfrey cast a few diagnostic charms at Regulus, and shook her head in bewilderment.

"Have you tried waking him?" she asked Dumbledore, who shook his head mutely.

"Mr. Black?" she called out. "Mr. Black!" a little louder this time. There was no response.

Dumbledore was gratified that she maintained the deception of him being Regulus Black. He had pulled her aside a day after their courtroom drama and told her that she was in no way to let on that this man was Harry Potter. She had been reluctant, but had eventually acquiesced.

"It seems our young friend has once again left us in the unenviable position of waiting until he comes out of...whatever this is." said Dumbledore, with no small amount of frustration. He knew that under no circumstances could anything happen to Harry before he had dealt with Voldemort. The magical world would be left asunder if Voldemort could rise again, and continue unchecked.

"Please let me know if his condition changes." he requested Poppy softly, as he made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry Potter was lost in a magically induced delirium. The magic contained in the two swords contained the essence of the two founders.

As soon as the two gems connected, he felt a huge surge of magic within him, and unbeknownst to himself, gracefully fell to the floor with the two swords crossed across his chest.

Inside his mind, he found himself looking at a Hogwarts that he didn't really recognize. He was on the grounds, yet there was no Whomping Willow, no Quidditch pitch, no Gamekeepers hut, no greenhouses.

There was pristine greenery all around him, and the castle soared up into the sky. The Astronomy tower looked like it hadn't been completed yet. The unfinished parts showed bits of brilliant blue sky between the stone work.

All in all, the castle didn't have the old homely feel he was used to. It looked new, its gray stones not yet weathered by time, and the battlements looking crisp. The gargoyles looked like their faces had just been carved the previous day, and the oak doors he was used to shone with the luster of new wood.

He was completely baffled. He took a few steps towards the doors, when they were suddenly flung open from the inside, and two men walked out, in old-fashioned robes.

His bewilderment changed into shock as he realized that both of them had very familiar swords strapped around their waists.

The first man was a red head, towering at six and a half feet, with a confident stride. His hair was long and left open, and looked like a lions mane as it moved with the wind and the momentum of his strides.

Godric Gryffindor. He gasped in shock. How was this possible?

As he came to the first realization, he turned to the other man. He had long black hair, and a thick black beard reaching down to his chest. A shade over six feet tall, he nevertheless matched the presence of the man walking besides him.

Salazar Slytherin. Impossible.

He stared in mute shock, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, as the two men walked directly towards them. He spent a minute studying the scabbards of their swords. They were of beautiful craftsmanship, worked through with silver and gold threads.

Gryffindor had the head of a lion in stylized gold on his scabbard, with either Rubies or Garnets as the eyes.

Slytherin had a winding serpent on his, fangs bared, with emeralds or some other precious green gem stones as the eyes.

They walked up to him and stood staring at him, not saying a word.

"Er..Hello." said Harry timidly, as the silence became awkward. He was feeling decidedly uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of these two formidable wizards. His brain seemed to have switched off and he was feeling like a five year old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Suddenly, to his surprise the two men bowed as one. He awkwardly returned the gesture.

"Greetings, descendant." said Gryffindor gravely. "I am Godric the Gryffindor, founder of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry swallowed and nodded, about to introduce himself, when Slytherin stepped forward.

"Greetings, descendant." His voice was rough and gravelly, but with the undertones of a hiss. "I am Salazar Slytherin, founder of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Pleased to meet you both." said Harry, feeling ridiculous. These men were legends. And more importantly their rivalry was legendary, yet here they stood, shoulder to shoulder, acting as one. Looking to all the world as brothers.

"I am Harry Potter." he said hesitantly. The both inclined their heads.

"Come." said Gryffindor, with a gesture of welcome towards the school. "We have much to talk about."

They turned and walked towards the school, and Harry quietly followed them, having given trying to figure out how this was happening and how he had got here. The last thing he remembered was the two swords being drawn towards each other.

As he walked into the Great Hall, Harry stared around in wonder. The great ceiling had not yet been enchanted, and he could see the beams of wood that latticed the high ceiling. There were no House tables yet, just one long table at the top of the room.

It was to this table that the two men led him. Sitting down on one side and offering him the other, Harry felt he was about to be interviewed.

"So it has happened at last." intoned Gryffindor, tapping his fingers on the tabletop in front of him.

"The bloodlines of Gryffindor and Slytherin have crossed, and the prophecy can be fulfilled."

At his side, Slytherin was nodding, stroking his long black beard in a manner very reminiscent of Dumbledore. Harry noticed that Slytherin had green eyes. Not quite the same shade as his, but a little dull. Nevertheless they shone with an intensity that he had come to relate with a fanatic or a madman. What struck him the most was the complete lack of resemblance to the statue he saw in the Chamber of Secrets. This man was handsome in a rustic way, and carried himself with charisma.

He seemed completely sane sitting at the table with the other two, at the moment.

"I don't understand." said Harry tentatively, gesturing all around him helplessly. "Where am I? When am I?"

The two men chuckled a little. It was Salazar who answered him.

"Simply put, you are within your own mind, brought into a memory or a stored essence if you will. The only way this could have happened is if you are the rightful heir to both the Slytherin and Gryffindor lines, and could wield both our swords."

As one, they drew their magnificent blades, and placed them on the table in front of them.

Harry looked at the two. They looked exactly the same as when he had last seen them, according to these memories, a thousand years from now, give or take. His attention turned back to Godric. He was itching to ask what prophecy they were referring to.

"I'm still lost." he said, wondering if his face showed how confused he was. "What prophecy are you talking about?"

Godric had a far away look in his eyes as he began explaining.

"What you see now, Hogwarts at the beginning, actually transpired about a hundred years ago according to our memories. Salazar was cursed by his own grandson, a man with no morals and a desire for unlimited power." he paused, gratified to see that he had an absolutely rapt audience of one. Slytherin was looking sad, and angry at the same time.

"You see, Salazar married a girl of Mundane blood, and their son Sylven followed suit. The son of Sylven though, Selwynn, did not like the fact that his ancestry was "sullied" by Mundane blood. He somehow came to the conclusion that it made his magic less pure as say – the magic of my line. I, myself was married to Rowena Ravenclaw, another founder of this school. Our children were taught to respect magic, and to make no discrimination against first time magic users."

Harry listened in fascination. He couldn't believe that Slytherin had been married to a muggle-born, or a Mundane as they seemed to term them here. It went against everything that he thought he knew. To find out that the son of that union had also married someone of muggle heritage, was also mind-blowing. Harry was beginning to wonder where the idea of Slytherin's pureblood mania had come from.

Salazar took up the tale in his raspy voice. "My grandson Selwynn lusted the grand-daughter of Helga Hufflepuff, the fourth founder of our school. When Agnes spurned him for one of Mundane heritage, he lost his mind."

Both the men looked extremely troubled, as they retold this tale of unrequited love and corruption by power.

"Selwynn killed the man that Agnes Hufflepuff loved, and then went on a rampage, trying to kill every person he knew who had Mundane blood in them." Salazar sighed. "You must understand, at this point, almost all the bloodlines had some Mundane blood in them, there just weren't that many magicals who could have increased our numbers. Since the time of Merlin, we have always intermarried with those who had magic in their blood."

Godric placed a comforting arm on Salazar's shoulder. "I remonstrated with Selwynn, and he declared a blood fued on me and mine, swore an oath on magic that our lines would forever be in conflict, and that Mundane lovers such as myself and his grandfather would be destroyed in one way or another. I banished him from the school."

Slytherin stood up, and began pacing. His walk was sinuous, like a weaving cobra. He seemed to be getting agitated recounting this tale.

"I loved my grandson. Despite his faults, despite his crimes I loved my grandson. I tried to reason with him. To beg him to end this madness. Unfortunately, his magical powers seemed to be greater than mine. He came up with a curse. A spell that took away the will of the person it was cast against." he sighed as he resumed his seat.

"Our words gave way to anger, and he drew his wand on me. We dueled. I was being defensive, still trying to get through to the boy I had loved. His insanity had taken that boy away forever. He struck me with his curse, and for eighty long years of my life I labored under it, trying to fight it off."

Imperious. Thought Harry immediately. He was listening to an account of the first use of the imperious curse. But eighty years?

He voiced his concern. "I..I believe I'm familiar with the magic you speak off, yet I know that it can be overcome, with will power and a strong mind."

He regretted his words as he saw the anguish on the face of Slytherin. The man looked at him evenly.

"You must understand, Harry Potter, that I myself had reservations about those of Mundane blood." seeing the puzzlement on his face, he continued.

"Yes, I married a Mundane, as did my son after me, but there was always a doubt in my mind about the wisdom of allowing them into our society. They were much too influenced by the Mundane way of life and thought. I had always had my reservations, and his curse played on them. It enhanced that small doubt."

Harry understood. It was always more difficult to fight off the curse when you were being told to do something that you could have possibly done anyway. It helped relax inhibitions after all, and was easiest to fight when what you were being told to do went against your intrinsic nature.

"Selwynn knew that he had neither the standing, nor the respect of the community to further his cause, and to my eternal shame, he used me as his puppet. He had me spouting his beliefs, and propagating the idea that pure blood was magically stronger, and more desirable."

Godric looked sadly at his friend, whose enchantment had led to them becoming enemies.

"Eventually, the other three founders could not stand my biases anymore, and asked me to leave the school. I did, and was then used by my grandson as a soldier in his war against the Mundane. He controlled me in every way. I fought tirelessly against the curse, but to no avail. Nothing like it had ever been seen before. It seemed unbeatable."

Harry swallowed. He had always found throwing off the curse easy, especially if he had no trust towards the person who had cast it. He assumed that over the years, the style of casting had changed, and the imperious he knew was but a pale shadow of the curse that had been invented by this descendant of Slytherin. If it could ensnare the mind of one of the most powerful wizards in history, it must have been something indeed. He turned back, as Godric picked up the tale.

"For decades, our community was at war with each other, with Salazar appearing to spearhead the belief that pure blood was better. Eventually, we dueled, my brother and I."

Seeing Harry's startled look when he said "brother", he explained with a small smile. "We aren't natural brothers, but after a lifetime of friendship and enemies vanquished and achievements made together, we are brothers in all but blood. Selwynn corrupted that. He used that against us."

Godric looked angry now, and his hair seemed to move a little with an unseen wind.

"We dueled, and I defeated my brother, who later told me that he had tried not to harm me in any way. Unfortunately the spell I used struck a mortal blow, and he had only a few hours to live. In those hours he told me of his fate, and explained that it was his grandson and not him that had been doing the terrible deeds that our community had come to fear over the last few decades."

"It was in that moment of confession, that my wife Rowena, who was a Seeress, came forward with this prophecy:"

"Blood shall be spilled, brother shall fight brother,

the Lion and the Snake forever against one another.

But hope shall be born in the future of time

a man of not one, but both of your lines

with him shall end the curse, the madness, the plague

and all blood will be honored, and treated the same."

Harry digested this second, and far older prophecy that seemed to mention him. In his head he heard a plaintive cry. "Why me." He was beginning to understand now how Voldemort seemed drawn to him, and how another Seer had made a prophecy that ensured that he would face Voldemort. He was destined not just to stop the madman, but to help end the blood supremacy forever. It seemed a daunting task.

"We knew at that moment that it had to be recorded, and this yet unborn descendant of ours had to know the truth. That we were as brothers until split asunder by the ambitions of one man. And now it appears that you have come to us, and we have much to tell you. But for now, rest. You don't need nourishment, as you are inside your own mind. We shall talk again in a few hours, though but seconds will pass for you in your time. Rest.

With those final words, the two men left him at the table, pondering the unimaginable truths he had uncovered this day.