Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Knockwood: Orychle's Story ❯ History ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Orychle opened the aged leather cover and ran his hands across the almost ancient first page. He read:
“Aeridorn : Where curiosity and desire for knowledge abound ~Athena Aeridorn;
Wolfsbane : The Powerful, Ingenious, and Shrewd. ~Wendigo Wolfsbane; Kinrick : Let the playful and able come to my open arms. ~Kenneth Kinrick; Everard : Where else will Nobility and down-to-earth be accepted? ~ Erik Everard.”
We have left this diary behind as our legacy to each house. It is enchanted to be everywhere it is wanted, even if wanted at the same time.

To those in the Aeridorn House:
Remember always that any witch or wizard with a thirst for knowledge and a healthy curiosity is more than welcome within my walls. Turn away none who would show the Aeridorn spirit. Be good to your house brothers and sisters, and keep always honor and learning above all else. May my guardian owl watch over you in times of danger, and keep you from walking a darker path.
~Athena Aeridorn, Aeridorn founder.


To those in the Wolfsbane House:
We are the pride of Knockwood, no matter what any other tell you. We share a strong sense of pride, and immense artistic abilities. The guardian fox is sly and witty, let this be your guide. For in my house, any path is acceptable, let those who want the power, have it in Wolfsbane.
~Wendigo Wolfsbane, Wolfsbane founder


To Those in the Kinrick House;
Welcome, welcome, welcome. I am more than happy to have my generosity extended to all who would have it. Like the joyous guardian of your house, the Sea Otter, Kinricks will forever been seen as the happy, the social, and the able-bodied. Let independence yet social ness be your guides as you traverse the years through Knockwood.
~Kenneth Kinrick, Kinrick founder


To Those in the Everard House:
I will not leave you words of airy, nor playful tones. Like you, I am down to earth and very noble. Remember that your element is earth, and it is to that earth that you should keep yourself grounded. The guardian Boar will give you the strength and leadership you need to survive your years. Everard is a name that shall stay with you forever, as it is recognizable and admired.
~Erik Everard, Everard founder


Orychle took a moment and sighed. He had only read two pages, and already he felt like he had personally known each house founder. After going outside for a quick cigarette behind the building, he returned to his book and began the main logs.


We four founders have written this log together in a joint effort to bring you the best possible access to our stories. Where it is less than the four of us writing, we will note it with our signatures.


We four met and joined together after hearing of the success of our English counterparts. We had been friends and socialites with the founders of Hogwarts, and admired their cause. We felt it important, not only to school students, but to give them an advanced education. We had originally opened our school as a place for Hogwarts students to further their metaphysical learning. This failed horribly, however, and we broke off our connections with Hogwarts. It was around this time that North America was “discovered” and Europeans came over in drones. With the everyday people, came witches and wizards, interested in this new ‘discovery’. It did not take long for the Wizarding community to found itself within the roots of American history.
Our ancestors either came over on the first set of pilgrims, or were conceived from those that first landed here. Therefore, we are through and through, true Americans. As time went on, we advanced along with America, and by the time it became the United States of America, we had already founded two basic wizarding schools: Driftwood on the west coast, and Elderwood in the northeast.
Back then, the student population was rather low, and even with some families coming to America from England, the progress of the two schools was slow. It took a few centuries for the North American Wizarding community to develop and flourish.
During the civil war, our people suffered as much a loss as the muggle community. We fought side by side with our brothers and sisters, though we did not always agree with their stance. We four were divided during this time as well, though we would meet occasionally, setting our differences aside. Everard and Wolfsbane fought valiantly with the south, but as any who know about American History will know, the south lost the war.
~Athena: I personally think that neither Erik, nor Wendigo have let this loss go, although they will deny it to the death, I’m sure.~
After the states became one again, we realized that the wizarding community needed to evolve as well. It was at this time that we built Knockwood with our own hands. It took twelve years for us to build this school, brick by glorious brick. Each of us put our own sweat and blood into each house, ensuring that they keep our own personalities.
~Athena & Wendigo: We two lended a bit of aide to each others’ structure, which is why many Aeridorns and Wolfsbanes will see some coincidences in their personalities. ~
When the school was finished, it was filled the next year. Every student of the basic wizarding schools had joined Knockwood, and in its first few years, helped it grow and evolve into what it is today. We four lived but a few centuries longer than the school, each of us passing within a year of each other. It is our spirits that have written this log, and it is both our story, and our memoirs. With the passing of each member, a dark haze fell over the grounds. And by the time of death of the fourth of us (Erik Everard, whom wants it noted he was far too stubborn to die so quickly) a dark mass had enveloped the school.
An evil man, Damien Malevous, (a former Wolfsbane, we may note, though he was almost an even split between Aeridorn and Wolfsbane), rose in power against the American Wizarding community. He was a sick and twisted man, and had a sorrowful obsession with Salazar Slytherin. He lead an army of dark wizards against the community, and tried to take over all of the wizarding schools in north america.
He was felled by a noble Aeridorn, Alexandria Belore, who had eyes like moonstones, and a heart pure innocence. Before he was killed, however, he used his dark arts to move the mass of darkness from around the castle. Coupling it with his own dark magics, he stored this hateful darkness within the bowels of the Cave Isle. There, the once beautiful and magnificent tunnels, stretching endlessly, were cast into darkness and damp. It is there that Damien’s soul resides, as do the souls of his followers, the Dark Minions. It is also there, that our souls are bound for all eternity, Damien’s dark magic sealing us within it.
A word of warning about the now Dark Isle Cave: While it is now the only place one may communicate with our souls, it is also one of the most dangerous places in the wizarding world. Any who enter run the risk of becoming possessed by Damien’s spirit.

Orychle sat back and rested his eyes a moment, taking in all the information he had just read. He wondered if Ian knew about the Dark Cave’s history, he knew everything else about it. He decided he must know. He picked up the book and turned the page, but it was blank. He skimmed the rest of the pages, but they, too were blank. He sighed and set the book on the desk. He stood, and stretched his back out, wondering when Marcus was getting back. Looking down, he exclaimed aloud--the book had disappeared!
He ran down to the lounge and checked the statue, but the book was not there, either. With a disturbed sigh, he walked away from the pedestal, his head still reeling. He crashed on the nearest loveseat, staring off at the wall.
“Hey Orychle, right? How are you?” Sharie had just walked into the lounge, her ever-present smile stretched across her face.
Orychle returned her smile, “I’m doing ok, I guess. Just bored at the moment,” he lied. He wasn’t bored at all, in fact. He was actually starting to grow a bit tired, although he was dying to see what kind of books they had in these walls.
“Well that’s never fun,” Sharie said, walking around the room, admiring the books. “So you have known Roxanne for a while then, eh?” She said, glancing around at Orychle.
“Yeah, we were in basic wizarding school together. She’s a great gal.” he added, standing up and stretching again.
“Yeah, she seems like it. I think she and Diggorced hit it off really well this afternoon.” Her smile went coy.
“That’s terrific, he seemed like a really swell guy,” he smiled, shocked that he actually had used the word ‘swell’. He MUST be tired, he thought. “Well, I hate to be rude, Sharie, but I’m exhausted. I need to head to bed.” As he finished, he saw Marcus walk in and past the lounge entryway.
Sharie glanced towards the entryway, and turned back, smiling “Oh, I bet you are.” She winked. “That’s fine, maybe I’ll see you at breakfast?” She asked, and without waiting for an answer, she walked, almost skipping, out of the lounge.
Orychle wasted no time returning to his room, and in fact arrived about three seconds behind Marcus. “Hey, how did I?” he began, Marcus had had a good ten seconds ahead of him.
Marcus turned and glanced at a portrait down the hall, “Madame Quinteel stopped me. She can be quite the talker, you know.” He added, grinning. “She wanted to know all about you.”
After a good amount of blushing, and a quick glance down the hall towards Madame Quinteel, Orychle gave Marcus a playful nudge and followed him into the room. Once in the room, they were met with an unadulterated glare from Jacob.
“Um…hi Jacob, is something wrong?” Marcus began, uncertain.
“You guys could have at least, TOLD me, instead of having to hear it from a fucking Everard!” He exclaimed, it took all of two seconds for Orychle and Marcus to realize what he was talking about.
“Oh, sorry about that Jacob…it just kind of happened. We were planning on telling you, truly we were.” Marcus said, laughing.
Jacob stood there, glaring. Finally, he let his lips crack into a grin. “I don’t really mind, was just a little shocked, you know?” He said sitting down on his bed. “I’m really happy for both of you.”
Before anyone else could speak, there was a scratching at the window. Marcus went over and slid it open and laughed as a small otter hopped over the edge and bounced his way over to Orychle’s feet. It stood on it’s hind legs and held out a letter for him. But not just any letter…a howler.
Orychle sighed, news must have gotten back to his family. He took the howler from the otter, who could not get out of the room fast enough. With a sigh, he removed the steal and flinched as it jumped out of his hand, screaming:
“ORYCHLE PUCK DEVLON, YOU SPOILED LITTLE CHILD--HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL US YOU FOUND YOURSELF A MAN!!! WE HEARD IT FROM DIEDRICH, AND ARE VERY UPSET WE DIDN’T HEAR IT FROM YOU!! DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT MADE US FEEL, THAT EVERYONE THERE SEEMS TO KNOW BUT US?! WE EXPECT A NICE LONG LETTER AND PHOTOGRAPH OF THE YOUNG MAN BY TOMORROW MORNING!!” the howler flopped around a bit more and burst into flames, disappearing.
Orychle laughed to himself, and let out a heavy sigh. He went over to his desk and got out his parchment and started scribbling a response right away. Marcus and Jacob just watched him for a few moments, silently chuckling to themselves.
After fifteen minutes of hearing nothing but quill on parchment, Marcus finally spoke. “ ‘Puck’?” was all he said, and Orychle sighed, setting his quill down and glaring at his boyfriend.
“Yes, Puck. Would you like to make something of it boy?” He laughed.
He returned the laugh, “No, but does that mean you have a mischievous side I don’t know about yet?” he prodded, playfully. Orychle just gave him a coy smile and winked.
“Maybe.” and returned back to writing.

Hours later, he had finally finished his letter. He took out a small whistle from his desk and leaned out the window. He blew on it, long and steady, and before long, a small silver owl soared out of the distance. It landed on the ledge and hooted at him softly, and he took a second to rub its head.
“Hello Podwog, thank you for coming. I hate to ask this of you, but this letter has to get to my parents by morning.” He said, tieing the note to the owl’s leg. “If you get it to them as fast as you can, I promise I will personally deliver you fresh mice for a week.” he finished, laughing. The owl hooted a response and nodded before taking off in the night at full speed.
He closed the window and stretched, he was sore and stiff from sitting so long. Just as he was turning to head to bed (Marcus and Jacob had retired an hour or so ago), there was a pecking on the window. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten where they live,” he said, as he turned, then stopped with a start, staring out the window. This was not Podwog.
He opened the window and watched as a medium sized owl hopped in and stood on his desk. It was pure black and had eyes like two stars in the night sky. He took the letter from it’s beak and it hopped over to the window and sat there on the ledge, apparently waiting.
The letter itself was written on very old parchment, and sealed with a double-crest: Aeridorn and Wolfsbane. He raised his eyebrow and turned the letter over. There was his name, written in exquisite calligraphy. He broke the seal and unfolded the letter.


Orychle Puck Devlon:
When you can, come see me.

Athena Aeridorn


Orychle dropped the letter, shocked. Athena Aeridorn? But she was dead! Had been for centuries. He was about to re-read the letter, but the owl hopped over and attacked the letter like it was a livid mouse, ripping it to shreds. Once it was finished, it looked up at him and flapped its wings. He tried to reach out for it, but as it did, the owl flapped its wings one final time and it faded into mist. He sighed again, this time out of frustration as well as exhaustion. He decided he could do nothing more than go to bed.
After crawling up into his bunk, he slowly faded into dreamland:

He was an owl, broad wings stretched out and soaring gleefully over the rushing ocean. He could feel the sea-salt dapple his face as the ocean sprayed it’s mist up. It was around dawn, and he was flying directly into the sunrise. So Beautiful. He though, admiring his surroundings, there was nothing but water for miles. He dipped down to where the tips of his wings could be brushed by the occasional wave.
Without warning, a large black fox burst from the water ahead of him, it’s eyes red and evil; it’s mouth open, teeth sharp and dripping with saliva and blood. He could not stop, and soared right into it’s mouth, into darkness…

He awoke with a start, cold sweat soaking his bed sheets and pajama bottoms. He was panting hard, and there were tears streaked down his face. He stuck his head out of the bed tapestries and glanced around the room. It was dark, he could hear the soft breathing of Marcus, which was almost drowned out by Jacob’s harsh snoring.
He picked one of his pillows up and threw it at Marcus, hoping it would wake him up. Unfortunately, however, Marcus’ previous roommate experience seemed to have caused him to sleep very, very deeply. So Orychle rolled back onto his back and lay there awake for the longest time. He is not sure when he finally fell asleep, but the last thing he heard were the first sounds of birds chirping outside the window.