# When Magic Remembers
## Chapter 4: The Deep Magic
*One week later*
Harry knelt at the edge of the forest, his hands pressed flat against the earth, and tried to silence the rational part of his mind that insisted this was impossible. Around him, the other four founders waited in respectful silence as he attempted something that hadn't been tried in centuries—listening to the magic that slept in the very bones of the land.
"Feel anything?" Godric asked quietly, his usual boisterous energy muted by the solemnity of the moment.
"Shh," Rowena hissed. "You'll disrupt his concentration."
Harry ignored them both, focusing instead on the strange sensation that had been growing stronger each day since their discussion about awakening the land's natural defenses. It wasn't quite hearing and wasn't quite feeling—more like catching whispers at the very edge of perception, as if the earth itself was trying to communicate in a language he'd never learned but somehow understood.
The week had been a revelation in more ways than one. Working closely with the founders had given Harry insights into their personalities that the legends had never captured. Godric wasn't just a brave warrior—he was a natural teacher who could explain complex magical concepts to anyone willing to listen. Helga's kindness wasn't weakness but a deep understanding of human nature that made her remarkably effective at organizing people and resources. Rowena's intelligence was paired with an insatiable curiosity that drove her to question everything, even her own assumptions.
And Salazar… Salazar was brilliant, dedicated, and absolutely ruthless in pursuit of what he believed was right. Harry had spent hours with him over the past week, learning about protective enchantments and ward theory, and had been forced to revise his understanding of the man who would one day leave Hogwarts in bitter conflict with his friends.
Slytherin wasn't evil, at least not yet. But there was something cold about his logic, something disturbing about the way he could discuss the most horrific magical practices as if they were simply tools to be evaluated for effectiveness. When he spoke of blood magic or soul bindings, it was with the detached interest of a scholar rather than the revulsion of someone who understood the moral implications.
Still, his knowledge was vast and his insights valuable. The protective framework they were developing drew heavily on his expertise in binding magic and permanent enchantments. Without his contributions, they never could have attempted what they were doing now.
"There," Harry whispered, his eyes snapping open. "Can you feel that?"
The others pressed closer, and Harry felt their magic reaching out to join his. Through their combined awareness, he could sense it—a vast, slow pulse that seemed to originate deep beneath the castle and spread outward through the earth like the heartbeat of some sleeping giant.
"By Merlin's beard," Godric breathed. "It's alive."
"Not alive," Rowena corrected, though her voice was filled with wonder. "But aware. Conscious in some fundamental way that we don't have words for."
Helga placed her hand on Harry's shoulder, and suddenly the connection became clearer. The pulse wasn't random—it was responding to their presence, adjusting its rhythm to match their combined magical signature. The land was recognizing them, acknowledging them as… what? Guardians? Partners?
"It knows why we're here," Helga said softly. "It understands what we're trying to build."
Salazar's magic joined the connection last, and Harry felt a chill run through the link as the pale wizard's consciousness touched the sleeping power beneath them. For just a moment, he sensed something alien in Salazar's magical signature—a coldness that felt fundamentally different from the warm, organic magic of the others.
If the land noticed, it gave no sign. The pulse continued, steady and strong, inviting them deeper into communion with the ancient power that had slept here since before human memory.
"Can we work with it?" Harry asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.
"We can try," Rowena said, her analytical mind already racing ahead to the possibilities. "But this will require magical techniques that none of us have ever attempted. We'll essentially be creating an entirely new branch of magical theory."
"Then we'd better get started," Godric said with his characteristic grin. "No point in doing things the easy way."
Over the following days, they developed a routine. Each morning, the five of them would gather at different locations around the valley—the forest edge, the lakeshore, the ancient stone circle where Harry had first arrived, the hill where the castle stood—and spend hours in meditation, learning to communicate with the deep magic that permeated the land.
It was exhausting work. The kind of consciousness that dwelt in the earth operated on timescales so vast that human concepts like urgency or impatience were meaningless to it. Connecting with it required a fundamental shift in perspective, learning to think in terms of centuries rather than moments.
But gradually, patterns began to emerge.
The magic flowed through the valley along specific paths—some following underground streams, others tracking ley lines that connected this place to other sites of power across Britain. These flows had been stable for millennia, creating a network of natural defenses that had protected the valley from various threats over the centuries.
"Look at this," Rowena said one afternoon, showing them a map she'd been working on. The parchment was covered with intricate diagrams showing the magical currents as she understood them. "The flows all converge here, right beneath the castle. That's why the founders of old chose this site—it's a natural nexus point."
"Which explains why the construction has gone so smoothly," Helga added. "We're not fighting the land's nature—we're working with it."
Salazar studied the map with his usual intensity. "These convergence points… they could be used for more than just passive defense. With the right binding rituals, we could redirect these flows, concentrate them into specific areas or uses."
"What kind of uses?" Harry asked, though something in Salazar's tone made him uneasy.
"Enhanced magical education, for one thing. Imagine classrooms where the very air helps students learn, where the stones themselves resonate with accumulated knowledge." Salazar's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. "Or training grounds where combat magic is amplified and refined. Or research chambers where the most complex enchantments become possible."
It was a compelling vision, and Harry could see the others being drawn to it. But he'd also noticed something troubling about Salazar's contributions to their work. Where the others approached the deep magic with respect and caution, Salazar seemed more interested in how it could be controlled and directed.
"We need to be careful," Harry said carefully. "This isn't just a resource to be exploited. It's… well, it's almost like a living thing. We're asking it to partner with us, not bend to our will."
"Of course," Salazar agreed smoothly. "But surely a partnership should benefit both parties. We offer protection and purpose to something that has simply been sleeping for centuries. In return, it helps us create something that will benefit magical society for generations to come."
Godric nodded thoughtfully. "Harry's right about treating it with respect. But Salazar has a point too—if we can create something truly extraordinary here, something that advances magical learning beyond anything that's come before, isn't that worth some risk?"
The conversation continued, but Harry found his attention drifting to the magical currents he could now sense flowing beneath them. The deep magic was indeed responding to their presence, but he was beginning to think it wasn't quite as benign as they'd assumed. There was power here—vast, ancient power that had its own agenda and its own sense of what was appropriate.
What would happen if their goals didn't align with what the land wanted?
His concerns were temporarily pushed aside by more immediate developments. Reports had been filtering in from travelers and merchants about strange happenings in the north—entire villages found empty, their inhabitants vanished without a trace. Livestock discovered drained of blood. Crops withering in patterns that formed unnatural symbols when viewed from above.
"It's starting," Aelfric said grimly during one of their evening meetings. "Herpo's influence is spreading faster than anyone expected. The northern lords are beginning to panic, and refugees are fleeing south in increasing numbers."
"How long before it reaches us here?" Helga asked.
"Difficult to say," Rowena replied, consulting a collection of reports and maps she'd been organizing. "If the pattern holds, we have perhaps six months before his forces reach the borders of this region. Maybe less if he decides to accelerate his timeline."
"Then we need to accelerate ours as well," Salazar said. "The ward network must be completed before he arrives, or everything we've built here will be for nothing."
Godric was sharpening his sword, the steady scrape of whetstone on steel a counterpoint to their discussion. "We could always take the fight to him," he suggested. "Gather allies, march north, and end this before it spreads further."
"With what army?" Salazar asked dismissively. "The northern lords are either dead, fled, or already under his influence. The southern kingdoms are too busy squabbling among themselves to mount any kind of coordinated response. No, our only hope is to make Hogwarts strong enough to stand against whatever he brings to our door."
It was the same argument they'd had several times over the past week, and Harry could see the frustration building in Godric's eyes. The man was a warrior by nature—waiting for an enemy to come to him went against every instinct he possessed.
"There might be another option," Harry said slowly, an idea beginning to form in his mind. "What if we don't wait for him to come here, but we don't march north either? What if we extend our network beyond the valley?"
"Explain," Rowena said, her eyes sharpening with interest.
Harry gestured to her map. "You've shown how the magical currents connect this place to other sites of power. What if we could activate those connections? Turn them into a communication network, or even a way to extend our protections to other locations?"
"A magical alliance," Helga breathed. "Linking all the safe places together so they can support each other."
Salazar frowned. "The magical requirements would be enormous. And the risks… if the network were compromised, it could provide Herpo with a direct path to every protected site."
"But if it worked," Godric said, his warrior's instincts clearly approving of the offensive potential, "we could coordinate resistance across all of Britain. Strike at his forces from multiple directions, share intelligence and resources…"
"It's theoretically possible," Rowena admitted. "But it would require a level of magical sophistication that… well, that's never been attempted before."
Harry thought of the magical communication methods he'd known in his own time—the Floo Network, Patronus messages, the protean charm-linked coins that Hermione had created for Dumbledore's Army. All of those relied on principles that probably hadn't been invented yet. But the underlying magical theory was the same: creating connections that transcended physical distance.
"We'd need to start small," he said. "Maybe connect with just one other site first, learn how the deep magic responds to that kind of extension."
"I know just the place," Aelfric said suddenly. All eyes turned to him, and the older wizard smiled. "There's a sacred grove about fifty miles southeast of here—one of the oldest centers of magical learning in Britain. My teacher studied there decades ago, and the wise woman who runs it now is someone I trust completely. If anyone would be willing to experiment with this kind of network, it would be her."
The discussion continued late into the night, but the fundamental decision had been made. They would attempt to create something unprecedented—a magical network that could link centers of resistance across the kingdom, allowing them to stand together against the darkness spreading from the north.
It was ambitious to the point of madness. But as Harry looked around at the four founders, he saw the same determination in their eyes that would eventually make Hogwarts the greatest magical school in the world. These were people who thrived on impossible challenges.
The question was whether their ambition would save them or destroy them.
Three days later, Harry found himself traveling southeast through the autumn countryside with Rowena and Aelfric, heading for the sacred grove that would become their first test case. They had left the others behind to continue work on Hogwarts' immediate defenses—a decision that had sparked the first serious argument Harry had witnessed among the founders.
Godric had wanted to come with them, eager to see action and meet potential allies. Salazar had insisted that the mission was too dangerous to risk multiple founders, and that Rowena's theoretical knowledge made her the obvious choice to lead the expedition. Helga had supported Rowena but worried about the risks of splitting their group. And Rowena herself had simply wanted to get started before they talked themselves out of the attempt.
In the end, practical considerations had won out. Rowena's expertise in theoretical magic was indeed essential for what they were attempting. Aelfric knew the way and had existing relationships at their destination. And Harry… Harry had become the group's expert in deep magic, the one most capable of communicating with the ancient powers they hoped to awaken.
"Tell me about this wise woman we're going to meet," Harry said as they rode through a forest that seemed older and wilder than any he'd seen outside of Hogwarts' valley.
"Morgana ferch Gorlois," Aelfric replied. "One of the most knowledgeable practitioners of the old arts still living. She's been studying the deep magic for longer than any of us have been alive."
Harry's blood ran cold. "Morgana le Fay?"
"You know her?" Rowena asked with surprise.
"I… know of her," Harry said carefully. In his time, Morgana le Fay was remembered as one of the greatest dark witches in history, a practitioner of necromancy and blood magic who had opposed King Arthur and the forces of light. But if she was still alive in this time period, still practicing magic openly…
"Her reputation has grown somewhat… complicated over the years," Aelfric admitted. "She's done things that many would consider questionable. But her knowledge is vast, and her dedication to preserving the old ways is absolute. If anyone can help us understand how to extend the deep magic beyond its natural boundaries, it would be her."
They crested a hill and suddenly the grove spread out below them—a perfect circle of ancient oak trees surrounding a clearing where several simple buildings clustered around a spring that bubbled up from the earth. Smoke rose from cooking fires, and Harry could see figures moving among the trees, some in the brown robes of scholars, others in more elaborate garments that spoke of higher rank.
But it was the magic that truly took his breath away. Where Hogwarts' valley had felt like a sleeping giant slowly awakening, this place was fully conscious and actively aware. The trees themselves seemed to watch their approach, and the very air hummed with power that made Harry's teeth ache.
"Impressive," Rowena murmured. "I can see why this place has endured for so long. The natural defenses are extraordinary."
As they descended toward the grove, Harry found himself thinking about the stories he'd heard of Morgana le Fay—powerful, dangerous, dedicated to magic above all else. How much of those stories were true? How much were distortions created by centuries of retelling?
And most importantly, what would happen when the founders' vision of controlled, institutionalized magical education met Morgana's dedication to the wild, uncontrolled power of the old ways?
He suspected they were about to find out.
A figure emerged from the largest building as they approached—a woman of perhaps forty years, tall and regal, with long black hair streaked with premature silver and eyes the color of deep water. She wore robes of forest green that seemed to shift and flow like living things, and when she smiled in greeting, Harry felt the full weight of her magical presence settle over him like a cloak.
"Aelfric the Learned," she said, her voice carrying a musical quality that made each word seem significant. "It has been too long since you walked among my trees. And you bring interesting companions—a young scholar whose magic tastes of innovations yet to be born, and a brilliant mind that burns with the need to understand how all things connect."
Harry exchanged glances with Rowena. If Morgana could read so much from their magical signatures alone, she was even more formidable than the legends suggested.
"Lady Morgana," Aelfric said with a formal bow. "Allow me to present Harry of Potter's Field and Rowena of Ravenclaw, two of the scholars working to establish the new school at Hogwarts."
"Ah, yes." Morgana's smile grew more complex. "The grand experiment. Four powerful wizards attempting to create something that has never existed—a place where magical knowledge can be preserved and transmitted without losing its essential nature. An ambitious undertaking." Her gaze settled on Harry. "Though I sense there are deeper currents at work here than simple institutional founding."
"We hope to create something that will benefit all of magical society," Rowena said carefully. "A place where knowledge can be shared freely and students can learn in safety."
"Noble goals," Morgana agreed. "But goals and outcomes are often quite different things. Come, walk with me through my domain, and tell me what you truly seek here."
As they followed her into the grove, Harry wondered if they were making a terrible mistake. Meeting with one of history's most notorious dark witches to discuss sharing magical secrets seemed like exactly the kind of decision that could have far-reaching consequences.
But looking at Morgana now—brilliant, powerful, but seemingly genuinely interested in their work—he couldn't help but wonder if history had gotten her story wrong, too.
Just like it had gotten so many other stories wrong.
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*Author's Note: Chapter 4 deepens our exploration of the deep magic while introducing new complications. Harry's growing ability to communicate with the land's consciousness sets up major plot elements, while the philosophical differences between the founders become more pronounced. The introduction of Morgana le Fay adds another layer of complexity—she represents the old ways of magic that the founders are trying to move beyond, but her knowledge may be essential for their survival.*
*The magical network concept begins to take shape, providing a framework for later plot developments while also showing how Harry's modern understanding of magical theory can contribute to medieval innovations. The growing threat of Herpo provides urgency to their work while creating pressure that tests their cooperation.*
*Next chapter: "The Serpent's Gift" - Harry, Rowena, and Aelfric work with Morgana to attempt their first magical network connection, but discover that awakening such ancient powers has unexpected consequences.*