The air hummed contently as a young man surveyed the building several hundred feet in front of him. His serpentine gaze narrowed as he swept along an invisible current. As he paced back and forth, his companion watched him silently, ready at a moment to assist him if requested.

The last Potter reached out and once again felt the ripple of the wards that protected the building. The wards yielded to his touch but only for a moment, before they pushed back and formed the protective bubble once again.

"Irrylath, you said that even without the Mark of Station showing me as the Heir of the Potters that the wards should recognize me as the last surviving Potter?" Harry turned to face the elf; his face perplexed.

"Normally that would be the case My Lord, however it seems that you family has added more layers of protections than most, I'm not sure why the Goblins would suggest coming to this vale first instead of the site of the ancestral home of the Potters or even the cottage."

"There's something important here, I can feel it deep inside, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to penetrate the wards. Based on the crash course you gave me; I can tell that the wards recognize me as family, but they won't yield to allow me passage."

"Perhaps there is a requirement that you need to meet first My Lord. Either a trinket or heirloom, or a way that magic has marked you. Family Magicks are varied and strange."

"Maybe," The youth turned back to the bubble that he could literally feel at the edge of his senses. Maybe I'm not supposed to be able to access it until a specific time, or without the proper command.

Both boy and elf turned in unison as they heard the heavy crunching of boots through the woods. Harry's hand dropped to where his wand lay, ready to draw it as Irrylath threw off her cloak, her swords appearing in her hands in a blur of raw speed.

A man appearing in his mid to late thirties stepped into view, his gaze focused on a scroll in his hands. The stranger was dressed in a form hugging sleeveless tunic, and dragon hide pants, his boots were a thick cut of unidentifiable leather. Peeking over his left shoulder was the handle of a blade, wrapped in a dark silver and blue material.

His exposed arms were covered in a litany of scars and burn marks, wound around his right wrist was a slim looking chain that reeked of magic. Her wore a leather bracer upon his left forearm and two silver rings on his left hand, on the middle and ring fingers respectively.

His face was covered in a thick close-cut beard, a thin scar crossed the tip of his left nostril while another one ran down the center of his right eye. He looked up and the duo finally got a good look at his eyes, the right was a deep gold, deeper even that the coins in Harry's pouch while the left was a bright almost glowing silver.

For a long moment all three figures stared at each other before Irrylath leapt forward her blades singing as they cut through the air, the unknown male threw his left arm up a massive shield suddenly appearing and blocking the blades from skewering him through.

"Lass, I believe that I was summoned as a tutor," The man's voice was rough, like his vocal cords had been run through a blender and poured back into a roughly human shaped mold. Irrylath paused but did not step back from the man.

"How did you know to come to this land? The request was that we would meet at Gringotts Bank in London." Her voice was the sharpest that Harry had ever heard it, in fact he was sure that he had seen the air frosting in front of her mouth.

"Aye, however, the bank sent the request to my…. organization and we have always had a special working relationship with the Potters and their progenitors."

With a loud scraping sound, Irrylath pulled her blades free, but her magic was still thrumming under the surface, "What organization?"

This shield disappeared as fast as it had appeared as the man rubbed a hand along his bald head, "That's a bit more complicated. Due to various oaths and charms I can't give you our name, but we are known colloquially as the Guild."

Irrylath's sapphire eyes narrowed before she stepped back while sheathing her twin blades, "I have heard of this Guild, but I did not know you were tied to My Lord's family."

The man snorted, the right side of his mouth twisting into a slight smirk," I assure you I was chosen do to the fact that my family is distantly related to the Potters. At one point our families were Blood-Sworn to stand at each other's sides. In fact, I attempted to use the family oaths to find the boy when I heard the news, but I was refused."

Harry stepped forward his voice eager, "Blocked by who? And how exactly are we related?" The man turned his gaze to the young boy and gauged him for a moment.

"My higher ups refused to allow me enough time to look into your affairs, but I believe that someone wanted to keep you from your heritage, for when a Potter and an Ashevale ride together, armies falter."

A loud gonging sound filled the air as the wards behind the group rippled, and two lances of light raced out, one connecting to the last Potter the other to the Ashevale. After a brief moment the light dissipated leaving the elf and boy looking confused.

"What just happened?" Harry spun around his gaze tracking over the invisible current from before and noticed that the bubble seemed to ripple far more than it had when they first arrived.

"That would be the conjoined wards that our families placed here acknowledging that we are not only who we say we are, but that we are not enemies. My name is Heruthain Ashevale, and I only wish to help you succeed."

Irrylath still looked wary but moved back from the man, "Perhaps we should retreat to within these conjoined wards, so that we may rest and get to know one another."

Neither male saw an issue with the suggestion and as one, the group moved towards the building in the distance, the wards solidifying once both males had passed through.

Time Skip Unknown

Harry threw himself to the side as he dodged a massive black arrow from skewering him, as he came back up, he attempted to pull his magic to the surface only to have a heavy boot impact his face and send him flying into a tree.

He coughed up some blood and attempted to roll away from the tree only for another boot to slam into his ribs knocking him back across the field. As the dust cleared his attacker was none other Heruthain, standing shirtless, his torso covered in a bevy of scars that actually made Irrylath wince when she had first seen them.

Harry lay on his stomach attempting to push himself up, the skin around his knuckles broken and bleeding. Heruthain snorted slightly, "I warned you Harry, trying to channel your magic to do more than heal you would result in a harder love tap."

"Fuck," Harry pushed himself to his knees, his left eye swollen shut, blood trickling from his mouth and nose, "You."

Heruthain only grinned before stalking forward, right as he was about to step within striking range, a bell dinged signaling the end of the morning training. Without pause in his stride Heruthain picked Harry up and carried him off the field, his magic surging up and sweeping over the Potter, helping him to heal and recover from the abuse.

The large man dropped Harry in front of the fire crackling in the hearth, Irrylath already pulling out the books for the day's lessons. "I still do not approve of you beating my Lord senseless, even if you are healing him afterwards."

The man seemed to mull her words over before responding, "Aye, I'd prefer not to be so rough in his training, but it will be the fastest way to help him tap into this Gift he says he has. He's definitely getting closer to unleashing it."

Harry meanwhile was already cracking open his books and reviewing the homework he had been working on, both from Hogwarts and what Irrylath had been assigning him over the summer, "Irrylath, you know we all dislike it, however you and Heruthain have both stated, several times in fact, that as the last of the Potters I should know every aspect of my heritage and in all honesty I can almost get a hit in now. When we first started, he was simply knocking me out every hit."

Irrylath's face didn't change but she did step away from the large man opened the companion book to Harry's, "According to the Concordant of the Magical Convention of 1458, The Most Ancient and Noble families would no longer be the sole lawmakers and the Wizard's Council became the Wizengamot, this allowed in the formation of the lesser Houses gaining not only prestige and honor, but power over their lives. This means that the Wizengamot predates the Ministry of Magic, however they still hold majority rule. By the Concordant, there is no Power higher than the Wizengamot."

Harry nodded along as he took his notes, "I can see how that's supposed to work in theory, but from what I understand in my reading, the Wizengamot rarely holds the elections for seats anymore and typically allow the Ministry to govern itself."

Irrylath looked up from her book," That is essentially correct. From our research, it appears that the members of the Wizengamot have grown used to their power and have become lazy. There is also a by-law written into the Concordant, that is what I want you to learn today."

Harry's gaze flicked down to the book as his finger dragged across the page, his expression thoughtful. When he found what he was sure she was talking about, his face morphed from confusion to blanketed surprise, to a near rapturous joy.

"From what I'm reading in this by-law, a majority vote by the Sacred Twenty-eight can remove all power from the changes proposed in the Concordant and force the Wizard's Council back into service. Am I reading this right?"

"Yes, My Lord, you are reading that by-law correctly. However there are some limitations to using this, one of which is convincing the Sacred families to agree that the power should be removed, and that you would need to be careful to not tip your hand early as the Wizengamot could in theory change this by-law as it is not sealed into the magic of the concordant as it has never been used."

The days passed in a similar manner, Heruthain would work Harry to the bone physically and Irrylath would help him with magical theory and teaching him the things that all young Lords were wont to know. Before Harry realized it Heruthain was waking him up, but instead of dragging him out the field for another beating, he was led to the dining hall, where a lavish breakfast feast was spread along a wall buffet style.

"Today Harry you're taking the day off, its your birthday. After breakfast Irrylath and I will be taking you to Diagon Alley, apparent a Miss Granger has been insistent in her letters to see that you're healthy."

Harry looked surprised before he rushed off to fill his plate, where before at Hogwarts he would have stocked up on normal fare, he grabbed leaner proteins and some light fruits and grains. He made sure to eat his fill but not gorge himself as he had made that mistake at the start of his training.

An hour later after all three were fed and cleaned for the day, they took a piece of paper and Heruthain spoke a phrase and all three vanished in a swirl of light and sound.