Headmaster’s Office Hogwarts, 17th July 1592.

“Headmaster! They are coming!!”

Professor Carwyn Myrridin turned slowly, gracefully, the feldgrau wool of his heavy robes sighing against the stone floor. In the light of the dying sun, his auburn braids shone like Welsh gold, flaming against his pale skin. “Aye, I ken that, lad” he said softly, sadness welling in eyes the shade of a stormy sea.

Angeal Trelawney sighed, shaking his shaggy, brown head "Bobbie Raymonds has succumbed, sold his soul to King James this morn, Headmaster. Fifteen pieces of gold, that's what our children's lives were worth to that filthy mudblood!"

"Come, Trelawney. Purebloods have sold good men to Dark Lords afore this." Headmaster Myrridin said firmly "I won't be having you speak slightingly of muggleborns. There but for the grace of God."

"Three and twenty thousand march upon us, Headmaster. There aren't wizards enough in Europe to fight half the score!" Trelawney cried, terror and anguish burning in his brown eyes. "And they are aided by muggleborn mages! Our own kind! Children we have raised in these Halls return with murder in their hearts. Can this be borne?"

"Courage, Angeal."

"Tis the priests who tempt the muggleborns away: they threaten Hell and promise redemption- at a price." The Deputy Head sobbed "They tell them that we are devils, Headmaster, devils! That the path to salvation is paved with our blood and bones. They intend to annihilate us!"

"You will nae die, nor the bairns. I'll see tae it." Myrridin said firmly, placing a pale hand on the quaking man's shoulder.

"What can you do, Professor Myrridin? What can any of us do?"

"Gather the bairns in the Great Hall." Myrridin ordered "They may hide in the Chamber when I release the basilisk, ye have a serpent-speaker amongst them, young Elfrick Gaunt. Have him return the basilisk to his Chamber when all is over."

"Headmaster..?"

"Do as I tell ye, Trelawney." Myrridin snapped "There isn't much time."

oOoOo

As Slytherin's basilisk patrolled the grounds, roaring its violent intent, Headmaster Myrridin strode the silent halls of Hogwarts; the children were safe within the chamber, guarded by the rest of the Hogwarts Staff and, his footfalls muffled by soft, leather boots, the only sound Myrridin could hear was the whisper of his robes as they trailed along the stone floors.

All protective spells known to Wizardkind had been cast, from Cave Inimicum to Repello Muggletum, statues and suits of armor manned the outskirts, ready for the fray, and, in the sky, Eltanin's huge form circled, ready to engulf any who strayed past the castle gates in fiery death.

Yet Myrridin, scion of the two greatest Wizarding families of his Isle, knew that there was something else to be done this day. He was not a seer but, in his blood, there was a strain as pure and sweet as the water of the mountains where he was born. Had Myrridin been a muggle, he would have been not merely a priest but a prophet, for the Almighty spoke to him sometimes. As noon burnt in the sky, today, the Lady had appeared to this favoured child, whispering that, although the grains of Myrridin's life had run, if he died of his own choice, those he loved may yet be saved.

That Myrridin must complete the rite of Sanctum Sanctorium.

In the tawny sunset, Headmaster Carwyn Luis Myrridin shed his heavy robes: his soul felt light, warm as the sunshine which played against his pale, bare skin. Struck by a sudden impulse, he unbound his braids, shaking his fiery hair loose. It had been long, too long, since the happy, carefree days of Myrridin's childhood, since he was wild and free and unbound as any creature on Brigid's fair earth. This felt like coming home.

Carwyn, it felt strange but good to call himself the name by which his mother knew him, transfigured his wand into a small silver knife and, taking a deep breath, raised the shining blade to the light.

"I give the bones of my body to form a room." Carwyn intoned, cutting into his wrist "I offer the flesh of my bones to create a veil. I sacrifice the blood of my flesh to act as a shield. Children of Hogwarts, hearken to me: my body, heart and soul your sanctuary be!"

oOoOo

When King James' Army arrived at the castle, beaten and bleeding from fighting off Hogwarts' defenders, both beast and automation, they found the halls empty. Even the Chamber of Secrets, where Robert Raymonds swore the wizards must be hiding, was discovered to be deserted.

Believing that they had been betrayed, the army turned on their mage comrades, brutally putting them to the fire and sword. The angry soldiers stormed out of Hogwarts, only to meet the condemning gaze of the basilisk, who awaited them just outside the castle doors. All but one died under the dread creature's glare and that single, surviving trooper returned to his barracks with the message: there be dragons, do not try their power.

King James, humiliated and infuriated at the defeat of his army, tore this tale from the book of history, destroying the records and silencing any who dared to speak of it. Yet, in Hogwarts, a legacy of this horrific event remains; if any soul, within this castle's ancient walls, needs sanctuary from their tormentors, they will find themselves in Myrridin's corridor.