Chapter 1: The House of Urien

A/N:

I've had an idea or baseline for a story about Harry Potter for ages now, and now is the best time to start writing it. Basically, I'll be taking one of the Knights of the Round Table from the Arthurian legends, Sir Urien, and be twisting his story slightly. Some other knights will be mentioned, but this will mostly focus on Urien and his direct descendants (namely his son and daughter).

Anyway, I'll be doing exactly what I did with my GoT story (for those who read that fic too, don't worry, the second instalment will be here soon.) So, I'll be starting with The Prisoner of Azkaban and will go from there. Things may change, things may not change, and so on and so forth…

Just in case:

Bold Italics – Inner Thoughts.

Italics – Flashbacks.

Anyway, let's begin!

X-X-X-X

We Live With Our Honour.

Those were the words of the legendary, most ancient and most noble House of Urien.

Some say that the House of Urien could be traced all the way back to the Arthurian Tales, with House Urien being founded by the Knight of the same name.

Sir Urien of The Round Table, in service to his most noble king:

King Arthur Pendragon.

That was until the Battle of Camlaan.

The Battle where they lost their king.

The Batttle of Camlaan was a bloodbath. Thousands died on both Arthur and Mordred's sides. A waste of both Non-Magical and Magical life. Such talent wasted on a fight that was caused by a power-hungry child.

It was needless to say that the Houses of the Round Table despised Mordred until the end of days.

The House of Mordred was a house of traitors and betrayers.

Mordred betrayed Arthur when he was fighting the tyrannical Emperor Lucius of Rome.

And so Arthur turned back to fight against his son. The son that had taken his throne and his wife for his own.

And everyone knows how the tale goes…

Mordred strikes down Arthur, only for Arthur to retake him by surprise and end his son's life.

Only seven men left the Battle of Camlaan, and not one of them was the great man known as King Arthur Pendragon.

Urien.

Galahad.

Percival.

Lancelot.

Caradoc.

Bors.

Pellinore.

The Knights of the Round Table were soon dissolved, and left to wonder the world of their own accord.

What some have not taken into account however, is that those seven members that survived the Battle of Camlaan were given unique items and abilities in return of their most noble service to the late King Arthur.

Urien was given the power of immortality, and as he was a Non-Magical Person, he was given the power to become one himself.

The seven last Knights of the Round Table had said their goodbyes, and left, never to see each other again.

Galahad was taken by Angels, with Percival as his witness.

Lancelot died of a broken heart after his king and queen died.

From what is known, Pellinore went mad and was never seen again.

Percival died of old age, thankful for living the life he lived.

Caradoc died just as Percival did, living happily with his wife, Guinier.

Bors went missing soon after the Knights of the Round Table was dissolved, never to be seen again.

Urien never asked and never found out what the other seven knights had gained from what had appeared to them that fateful night. He was happy with being able to wander the earth forever until the end of time. He wished to see what the future held for him and his family.

What follows is the experiences of Sir Urien of House Urien.

X-X-X

Coast of Scotland, Year 854

Urien had boarded the longship alongside his fellow Nord men and waited. He had adopted the traits of the great men that some had named 'Vikings'. Some preferred to call them raiders and thieves, and then proceeded to insult them.

The men and women that Urien fought with were anything but thieves.

The land they lived on was hardy and tough, but not inhospitable. They eked out a living, some made their living by farming and trading, some plied their trade of fighting, and if they were part of the clans that inhabited the Nordic Lands, they raided and supplied the lands.

Urien could not help but admire how they fought. The fought with courage, however some would call it arrogance. Large amounts of Vikings refused to wear armour, as they thought it was for the milk-drinkers that inhabited what would now be called Europe and the United Kingdom. There was a mix of blue, black and red war paint that covered the well-toned and hardened muscles of the Vikings.

"Urien! Get up here!"

Urien pushed his way through the crowd of Vikings that occupied the longship. He could see Jarl Bjorn was clinging to the bow of the longship, and in his other hand was his axe. He raised his axe in the air and gave a mighty roar.

"Show theses cowards no mercy! Do not stay your blades! Show them how real men fight!" Jarl Bjorn yelled.

The Vikings behind Bjorn and Urien gave screams and roars of approval. They threw their hammers and axes into the air as well, roaring as the longship hit land. Urien turned to see three more longships carrying even more men and women to fight alongside them. Sometimes Urien wondered if he would be considered a true knight after all the raiding and pillaging he had done. Those moments had came and gone, usually coming for him whenever he knew he was going to battle once more. Urien twirled the battle-axe in his hands, waiting for Bjorn to tell him to let loose on the Scots that were attempting to defend their settlement from the Viking invaders.

Not that their pathetic defence would do anything to stop them.

"Bjorn, you called for me."

"You have proven yourself to me, to our people. King Haakon has told me of your intentions after this raid." Bjorn admitted, keeping his eyes on the settlement as his forces pushed deeper.

"Yes, My Jarl, I wish to leave. It is not my intent to dishonour you or our people. I wish to travel the world, to see what it has to offer. Who knows, I may end up travelling back here after I have considered my travelling days over."

"None of the 'My Jarl' shit. Call me Bjorn, you have earned the right now. I may not be happy about you leaving my clan, and after so long as well, but King Haakon has told me there is no way to stop you."

"I must apologise." Urien said.

"Do not. This will be your last raid with us tonight, now go, enjoy it."

Urien threw his battle-axe over his shoulder and began to charge to the small little settlement. Some would say it was a little too much to take just one small settlement on the coast of Scotland, but it would be a staging point for further raids in the future, raids of which Urien would most definitely not be a part of.

Urien spotted one warrior charging him with a mace, yet he clearly was not trained with his weapon. He swung violently and off-target, leaving his stomach exposed.

Big mistake.

Urien hefted his axe in an underarm swing, and lodged it deep into the man's gut. Blood gushed and oozed out of the man's stomach like gore-riddled river. He tore the axe out of the man's gut and swung it again through his neck, separating his head from the rest of his neck. He kicked the man out of the way before going on to the next.

He hefted his axe above his head and threw it, and it landed in the next man's lungs as he collapsed to the floor, bleeding to death.

One man took to believing that without a weapon, Urien was defenceless, however he was severely mistaken. Urien barely missed the steel as it slithered through the air before punching the man who swung in his throat, wrenching the sword out of the man's grasp before thrusting the same sword into his throat.

Urien then noticed that one three men were giving Bjorn a spot of bother, and decided to do something about it. He launched himself to the furthest attacker, sticking the blade hilt-deep in the man's skull, taking the man's dagger and shoving it in the spine of the next man before slitting his throat and stabbing him in the lung, leaving the dagger entrenched in the assailant's flesh.

The last man had Bjorn on his last legs, forcing the old Jarl down to the grass as his dirk was getting closer and closer to Bjorn's throat. As soon as Urien saw this, he threw his arm forward, but he did not touch the assailant. Urien lifted his arm forward, and the man was slowly lifted up into the air. Urien used his other hand and grasped something inside the man's flesh, and soon enough, there was a shower of blood and bone that covered Urien all over.

The man's spine had been ripped out in front of everyone, and soon the Vikings had taken advantage of this. They burnt down huts, killed men, carried off the women and children to work as slaves. As the man who had his spine went into shock, Urien took the spine and wrapped it around the man's throat and twisted.

Urien looked at Bjorn, and Bjorn gave him a sadistic grin. "I thought it was my time there, Urien."

"Not yet it seems, Bjorn." Urien smiled back, patting him on the shoulder.

"You must tell me how you do that."

"A gift from the gods." Urien mused.

"I'm sure it is. Fine, don't tell me."

X-X-X

Soon the raid was over, and the camp for the Vikings was established. The dead warriors were thrown into the ocean and swept away by the violent currents. It was a better fate than they deserved, at least that was what the other raiders said, but it did not matter what happened to the corpses. Urien had seen worse than that. Urien had seen walls and walls of dead and desecrated bodies during large battles. He had seen plague-ridden corpses flung over city walls to prevent sieges.

Men were violent beings, that was what the general consensus was in Urien's head.

And after a few more weeks with the Nordlings, Urien took a horse to the bottom of what would now England and travelled the mainland, and even further…

X-X-X

Some said that Urien was spotted in the East, training with men who carried weapons like 'katanas' and 'naginatas' and other weapons that had never been seen before.

He braved the harsh winter wastelands of what would now be considered Siberia.

He returned, and became a member of what is known as the Roman Empire.

Urien was the most well-travelled the man in the world. He lived through centuries and met some of the most famous minds the world has ever seen.

Galileo.

Aristotle.

And encountered some of the greatest works by people such as:

Ptolemy.

Archimedes.

Plato.

And met the worst people the world has had to offer.

Adolf Hitler.

Josef Stalin.

Ghengis Khan.

The Caliphate that destroyed Alexandria.

Exploring the world had taken it's toll on Urien, and soon he had decided to call it off. He had travelled to far-away countries and seen ancient dynasties rise and fall. He had seen the world tear itself apart, he had seen attempts at mass genocide for no reason other than scapegoating.

The world disgusted him.

He travelled back to England and settled down in London. He had a wife, and he started a family. Sadly, not every single son and daughter lived to see the world like he had.

His first son, Robert, was a British soldier during the First World War. He died in 1917.

His second son, William, went travelling the world, only to die when his ship was sunk in 1923.

His first daughter, Anastasia died when she was young in the year 1919.

His second daughter, Lunafreya, still lived, caring for her father.

His third daughter he named in honour of his queen, Guinevere, and she became quite the witch in Magical Britain. She was a master alchemist and potion brewer, and became very well-known.

However, it was his third son, Arthur, that gave him the most pride. He honoured the House of Urien with his very presence. With the help of Urien himself, Arthur became the face of House Urien.

Coming from Urien himself, Arthur was House Urien.

However, fate was a cruel mistress.

In the year of 1993. The noble Sir Urien had his immortality taken away from him, and he slowly passed away, the only people to witness were Arthur, Lunafreya, and their mother, Celestine.

In Magical Britain, there was an outcry of public sympathy for the House of Urien, as the world said goodbye to one of the last reminders of where Magical Britain originated faded away, lost forever. Light and Dark families came to pay their respects to the last Knight of the Round Table.

And the funeral of Sir Urien is where the story begins.

X-X-X

Reddington Manor, Seat of House Urien, 25th of August

Arthur Noctis Urien was stood outside of his room on the balcony, accompanied by a tumbler of Jack Daniels. It had been a cruel twist of fate to see his father die, to see the man who he had worshipped ever since he was a child be taken from him in such a way. Arthur was only twenty-nine years old, and he had seen the world, but nowhere near as much as his father had done.

He would have been jealous, but he was not a child. He was a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House. There was no place for jealousy or envy. Besides, he had made a name for House Urien. His father and himself had metaphorically broken their backs doing it, but it paid off. They were wealthy, but they were not ignorant of those who were not as lucky as they were.

We Live With Our Honour? My father was the most honourable person I know, and whoever did this too him did not care. Where is the honour in taking an old man away from his family?

Arthur swirled the whiskey, nursing it before finished it off. He took the bottle and refilled it, downing the glass of whiskey once more. Just as he finished, his elder sister, Lunafreya Ignis Urien entered, scowling at Arthur as soon as she spotted the whiskey beside him.

"Arthur, I know how much Father meant to you, but we cannot dishonour him with all these people here! All of the Ancient and Noble families have come to pay their respects to Father! Have some dignity, if not for me, then for Mother and Father." Lunafreya scolded, snatching the glass and bottle away from Arthur, placing it on his bedside table.

"Luna, you were there with him when he went. Tell me what you saw." Arthur ordered.

"There was this bright light, and there was a voice, it was a woman, I could tell. I never got a name, but she told Father that his time on this earth had come to an end, and she thanked him for his service. Then she placed her hand on Father's cheek and Father went pale and…."

Lunafreya never finished her sentence, and she soon begin to sob quietly into Arthur's suit jacket as he clung to her in a tight hug. She wore an elegant white dress, and she had been trying to keep herself from crying all day ever since the day had started. Sir Urien was to be cremated on the grounds of Reddington Manor. Lunafreya continued to cry into Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur let out a few tears himself, but he wiped them away.

He would be strong, if not for himself, for Luna and Mother.

As soon as he had wiped his tears away, his mother had walked into his room, clearly looking for both Arthur and Lunafreya. She was wearing black leggings and black long-sleeve shirt with a black and red waistcoat over it. She held herself together, but when she first found out, Celestine Kenway-Urien had broke down into sobs and cries. There was nothing that Arthur or Lunafreya could do to console her. She had lost children, and now she had lost her husband after years and years of a wonderful marriage. Arthur considered it a blessing that he entered her room every day to see that she was crying, yet still alive. He could not blame her if she used the Killing Curse on herself. If he was in her shoes, he might well have done it.

"Luna, my sweet little dove. Come here." Celestine said, prying Lunafreya away from Arthur and taking her into his grasp.

Arthur did not want to see Lunafreya self-destruct, he could barely keep himself together, let alone try and keep someone else from breaking down. He hated witnessing the sight of tears, especially on someone who meant so much to him. He remembered when he first asked his mother about who Robert Percival Urien was, and how she began to cry as she talked to him about his eldest brother, who died in World War One.

When Arthur realise how old his family was, it turned out to be that although nobody had ever received the immortality that Urien had been gifted, they had been given the gift of staying younger for longer. Questions had been asked about his mother's real age, but nobody really knew, even Arthur never knew, and he did not want to ask. She looked barely fifty, but still Arthur never asked.

After all, it would be rude to ask a lady how old she was.

Arthur took a look at his room, and how dishevelled it really looked. The room was dark, with a few solitary candles lighting the room. Arthur prided himself on keeping himself organised, but that pride had gone as soon as he had five empty bottles of whiskey next to him on his bedside table. The white and blue paint looked as if it was peeling off the walls, and the mansion itself looked as it was haunted.

It wasn't, it just looked as it was. In reality, Arthur needed to give it a clean, but the house elves would do that.

Very suddenly, he felt a pinching feeling on his left shoulder. Arthur turned to see his familiar perched on his shoulder. The crow he had affectionately named Pincher had began to peck at the wild strings of fabric that had come loose on Arthur's jet black suit. Arthur took to stroking the bird's beak as he Lunafreya slowly began to stop weeping.

"Arthur, be a dear and look after our guests downstairs. I believe the Malfoys may be here soon."

"Oh, how lovely." Arthur replied glibly.

"I know how much you and your father despised Lucius Malfoy," Celestine sniffled when she brought her husband up. "But just swallow your anger for a moment and look after them. Narcissa is not that bad."

"'Narcissa isn't that bad' she says. She married Lucius Malfoy didn't she?"

"Because of a damned marriage contract!"

Celestine began to glare at Arthur, and then directed him to the door so he could look after the men and women who had come to pay their respects. Pincher soon flew off to his perch inside Arthur's room, deciding to pick food over people, which Arthur had suspected. He was soon accompanied by his father's familiar, Onyx the wolf. Arthur had no idea why the lonely familiar had stayed with his family, but he had clung to Arthur for dear life as soon as Urien died.

He arrived at the double stair case. Arthur looked over the railings to see the entrance hall of Reddington Manor. Between the two curving staircases, there was a stone-carved fountain, that shown the elegance and wealth of the House of Urien. The fountain was Arthur's idea, he wanted to redecorate the manor and so it looked at least somewhat up to date. His father agreed, but said it looked a tad expensive.

Not that expenses mattered to them. If Arthur were to go to Gringotts and get a statement, he would not be surprised if the vaults held millions upon the millions. Arthur sighed, he did not want money, he wanted his father. He wanted someone to hug him and tell him everything would be alright.

But that would never happen.

He took a look at Onyx, and the grey-black wolf stared back at him with his pale yellow eyes. Onyx then proceeded to nudge Arthur's hand with his mouth, and Arthur began to stroke the wolf's head as he went down the stairs to converse with the other pure-blooded wizards who had turned up to pay their respects. He could see Augusta and Neville Longbottom chatting with the head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones.

Of course, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge was conversing with Lucius Malfoy.

No surprise there, then. Fudge is probably begging Malfoy for more money…

Arthur had not thought that Bill Weasley would represent his house, especially as he was a very well-known and very busy curse-breaker for Gringotts. The Weasleys were a poor pure-blooded house, which was something of a rarity. Bill had decided to notice Arthur has he wandered about his domain and gave a small wave to him, which Arthur returned slightly.

Arthur hated having to socialise with the other families, not all of them but families like the Malfoys and the Goyles he could not help but despise. The waved their pure-blood status around as much as they could, and bullied smaller families who were not as rich as them. Arthur usually left it to Lunafreya or his father when it concerned alliances with other houses whilst he focused on the business, but he would have to take that as another responsibility on his shoulders.

Oh well, no difference there. I hope I do well, for our sake.

He noticed that Cyrus and Ophelia Greengrass had now entered. If Arthur had to pick a wizarding family that he could actually stand to talk to, it would be the Greengrasses. He went over to Cyrus and Ophelia and began to converse with them.

"Hello, Cyrus. How are you?" Arthur asked.

"I'm fine, Lord Urien." Arthur had to shudder at being called Lord Urien. "My condolences. Daphne wished to come with us, but sadly she is not well."

"It's fine, I doubt little Daphne would have anyone to socialise with, unless she wants to talk to Longbottom." Arthur said, with a small laugh.

"I think Daphne would rather have stayed than talked with him." Ophelia interjected. "How are you feeling, Arthur?"

"I'm holding up, Ophelia." Arthur said with a sigh. "Luna has taken it harder than Mother and myself. I don't think Guinevere even cares. I don't even think she knows about it."

"She should be here." Cyrus said.

"She wanted to become an alchemist, and to do that, she had to leave. It'll be nobodies fault but her own when she finds out about him." Arthur replied.

If anything, Arthur had doubted that Guinevere even cared about the family any more. She was the rebellious daughter of House Urien, and even with all the help that Lunafreya and Arthur wanted to give her, and all of the begging that Celestine had to do to keep Guinevere as part of the family, Sir Urien was adamant in disowning her. Guinevere Anarietta Urien was no longer a Urien, but was now just Guinevere Anarietta.

"That is a harsh way of looking at it, wouldn't you say?" Ophelia asked.

"That was the way that Father looked at it. It's the way I will look at it. She won't get forgiveness from me, I wanted to help her and she declined my help."

Arthur quickly used the excuse of having to socialise with the other guests so he did not have to talk about his other sibling. He felt that every time he had to mention Guinevere he would be breaking his heart all over again or banging his head against a wall. He had begged Guinevere to listen to him and Lunafreya, but she had to be the most headstrong one of the Urien children.

Needless to say that Guinevere was destined to be more than just an alchemist and potion master, Sir Urien would have made Guinevere the head of House Urien, but she did not want that honour. So it went to Arthur.

As Arthur wandered the ground floor, he noticed that Lunafreya and his mother had now recovered from their weeping, and had begun to talk to the other guests. Arthur recovered when he saw Lunafreya manage to smile at him. It would soon be time to send their father on to the other life.

Arthur doubted that his mother and Lunafreya would be able to continue after that.

As he wandered around speaking to the guests, he noticed the front door to the entrance hall open, and he saw a wizened old man, wearing a purple robes and he had a large white beard that travelled down to his chest. Arthur was not stupid, he knew who that man was, everyone knew who that man was.

It was Albus Dumbledore.

Arthur groaned, he did not want to have to deal with the man again. He had been asked multiple times by the Headmaster of Hogwarts to teach one of the roles, and it was Defence Against Dark Arts. He had been enthused at first, it sounded like fun, but he had a business to take care of, and the House of Urien needed a Lord more than ever.

The headmaster walked over to him. "Lord Urien, my deepest condolences for your loss."

"Please, Headmaster, just call me Arthur. I'm still not comfortable with being a lord yet."

"Of course, my boy. You're probably think I'm here to ask about becoming a professor, don't you?"

Arthur felt a mild probing in his head, and scowled at Dumbledore. "Don't try that with me, Albus. You know it does not work."

Dumbledore's grandfatherly smile dropped, and he turned serious for a moment. "Well, I'm not here for that. I'm here on behalf of the members of the Wizengamot who could not make it."

"I see. Well, would you like a drink?" Arthur offered him a glass of champagne, but elderly headmaster declined.

"I don't drink, Arthur. How are you, my boy?"

"I don't know how to feel about it yet, Albus." Arthur was silent for a bit. "He was my father, he was my lord, and now I have to take his place. It will be a lot different. I may not even take his place. I may let Mother take it. If Augusta Longbottom can keep that house afloat, my mother can keep this house alive too."

In reality, he was not even sure if there was anyone who even wanted to become the Lord of House Urien. It was a Most Ancient and Most Noble family, and someone would need to take charge again. If Arthur was not adamant of taking charge, he knew Guinevere would never return to take charge, Lunafreya was too young to even consider it.

So it was either Arthur or Celestine.

Arthur then felt a hand on his shoulder, and it was Dumbledore's. "Go and be with your family. Grieve, and think about everything. I know you have the House and the businesses to consider, but there will always be a place in Hogwarts for you."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Arthur wandered back upstairs and went to his father's study, and examined some of the items that were hung upon the walls. He went over to his father's desk and examined the will that had been laid upon the desk. Arthur took the piece of paper and began to read it.

Son,

I wish I could have said this to you in person, but it seems that was never going to happen. I wrote this in case something had happened to myself that I may never come back from. Anyway, I leave the House of Urien to you, Lord Urien.

I wish I could have gone back and changed things with Guinevere, but I believe it is too late to do anything now. I have burnt that bridge and there is no rebuilding that any more. I think if Guinevere ever wants to come back or she tells you of this intent, please tell your mother and tell Guinevere that I am sorry. I was extremely stupid and stubborn in my old age.

Now, I come to you and Lunafreya. I should have always paid more attention to you and your sister when you were younger, but I went wrong somewhere. I wanted you to become like me, I wanted you to succeed like me, I wanted Lunafreya to marry and have a family, I wanted you to inherit the House and become a Lord of legends, a man who led the House of Urien to greatness, like I had tried to do myself.

I give you the keys to the vaults at Gringotts, they hold everything we have now and will be refilled with the profits from our businesses. I give you our properties dotted across the world, and I give you access to my personal arsenal of weapons, including wands and staffs, may they keep you safe in your future endeavours.

I love you with all of my heart, son.

Sir Edric Regis Urien, Lord of House Urien and Lord of Reddington Manor.

As Arthur read the letter, he began to feel tears roll down his cheeks. He placed the letter back down on the desk, and he looked outside the glass doors at the rainy night outside the manor. He could see the funeral pyre sitting outside, with Edric Regis Urien lying peacefully as the rain began to fall. Arthur could see Dumbledore carrying a torch that had been charmed to not extinguish. He placed the torch on the pyre and waited as the pyre caught fire and soon, the body of Edric Regis Urien was naught but ashes.

"Goodbye, Father."

Arthur wandered back to his own study/bedroom, took the bottle of Jack Daniels and began to take a few small sips. He got changed and got into bed, continuously taking sips until he felt so tired and unable to move he just went to sleep.

X-X-X

A/N:

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~The Real Italian Stallion~