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Chapter Seven

6 December 1922

Severus apparated to the arrival coordinates approximately half a mile from Kielder Castle. The ancestral seat of the Earl of Kielder had been sealed under non-occupancy, high-security wards long before Severus’ father died. The castle was effectively in stasis and no one could enter the grounds until Severus adjusted the wards at the keystone.

Henry Potter had agreed to meet him and was already waiting at the landing area, which was a small clearing surrounded by trees approximately a quarter mile from the castle ward boundary. Severus had invited him after the Wizengamot session the day prior when the combined Assemblies had voted against the minister’s bill to expand ministerial presence on the Wizengamot. Not all of the elect members were pleased by the information the noble members had revealed, but most were cautiously optimistic. Three nobles had abstained from the vote to keep the Assembly from being unified. Marcellus was doing more research into the Wizengamot charter to ensure the Assembly being unified in a vote didn’t cause something they were not yet prepared for.

It was as he was leaving the courtroom, passing by Potter, explaining to Septimus that he planned to visit the castle today, that he’d felt a stirring in his magic. Without analyzing the urge, he’d turned to Potter and invited him to visit the Kielder ancestral seat.

He took a moment to get his bearings and glanced around the clearing, eyes widening when he realized the apparition spot was right in the middle of a fairy ring. He felt the magic thrumming from the Earth and wanted to throttle whichever of his ancestors had trivialized this spot.

“Are you well, Lord Prince?” Potter pushed away from the tree he’d been leaning against.

“Severus,” he reminded Potter for the third time in as many days. “I’ve never been to this spot, and I find myself appalled that such a magical area has been reduced to an apparition point.”

Potter’s brow furrowed. “I don’t follow.”

“You don’t feel the magic from the Earth?”

Head cocked, Potter seemed to be concentrating. “I do feel it, but it’s not the first time I’ve felt magic somewhat inexplicably in an area. But what is it that you’re sensing?”

“I assume you have a ritual space at Potter’s Keep?”

“Of course. Though my father and grandfather shied away from most ritual craft, so it’s not something I’ve ever used. Though, I confess that I do feel drawn to it. But they felt magic that wasn’t available to all wizards should be avoided.”

Severus blinked several times. “That’s a dangerous path for a Potter.”

Potter went rigid. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m stating a fact. From Ravenclaw’s journals I know that the line of Lockehaven was gifted with parselcraft. How favored must your line have been, and how now ungrateful that you choose to ignore it.”

The other man flushed, appearing very uncomfortable. “How can you know that?”

“Lady Ravenclaw wrote of all the magical lines in her journals. Merlin and Morgan were both parselmages. Parselmages are not only the most sought-after healers in the world, they have a ritual craft that is unlike any other. Ravenclaw noted that a fully-trained parselmage working in conclave can actually be a focus for wild magic. Her notes about the building of Hogwarts were fascinating. It was a Lockehaven parselmage who enabled them to tap into the ley-node under Hogwarts for the protections and enchantments on the castle by focusing and refining the wild magic that was released.

“Her descriptions were so vivid, I can almost see it in my mind’s eye. I envy her being present for such a magnificent feat of magic.” Severus reined in his enthusiasm. “My apologies. I find the true nature of magic to be fascinating.” He gave Potter a considering looking, noting that the man seemed stunned. “I would apologize for my remarks with a platitude about how it’s none of my concern, but both statements would be a blatant falsehood. I’m not sorry, and the shambles that is our ancestral magic is indeed my business.”

Potter’s jaw clenched. “I’m not sure I can agree with that.”

“You don’t have to agree. Magic herself agrees. The original twenty-eight were charged with ensuring the health and vitality of magic. To that end, we were each given magical gifts and abilities. Those first twenty-eight lords comprised the first magical conclave. They made vows to one another and to magic to fulfill their purpose. That your line has ignored the gifts magic has given you is my business. It’s all our business. And the idea that we shouldn’t indulge in magics others cannot perform is ludicrous. There are applications of most types of supposedly forbidden magics that are vital. Your ancestors advocated that everyone should be able to do those things or no one should. How utterly absurd. Can you imagine an entire magical world filled with necromancers? I shudder at the thought.”

“That is an absurd conclusion to draw.”

“Is it? If your grandfather wanted more people to have access to ritual craft, he should have brought in more members to the Potter line, not cut his line away from their vital rituals.”

Potter’s lips were pressed into a tight line. “Is that why you asked me to meet you? To persuade me to your point of view?”

Severus scoffed. “Magic nudged me, actually, as we were leaving the Wizengamot chambers yesterday. But don’t think my remarks are a damning indictment of just you, Lord Potter. Look around you and feel the failings of my line.”

After a few seconds, with some apparent reluctance, Potter said, “I’m afraid I don’t understand the references.” He crossed his arms. “And I told you to call me Henry.”

“Yes, well, you seem in a bit of a snit. I fall heavily on formality when dealing with the irked.” Before Potter could express his indignation, Severus gestured to the clearing. “Aside from convenience, the reason we have ritual space created in our home is because we need to carve rune work into the walls to accomplish what is difficult to find in nature. Stonehenge, for example, is a powerful natural ritual space. That the Abbott line ancestors let that space go to the muggles vexes me to no end.

“But here is a more powerful ritual space than anything I could craft with runes and stone.” Severus stomped his foot on the ground. “There’s a powerful magical focus here, deep in the earth. I can’t say if it’s native to the region or not, but I’m inclined to say it isn’t. But whatever it is, it hasn’t been disturbed in easily more than a thousand years. Whatever it is, it’s huge.”

He gestured to the ring of brightly colored fungi. “The fairy ring is the visual clue. When a circle is cast, one of the by products of the magical outpouring in the circle is the formation of the ring. The more frequently a circle is cast and the more magic used, the more advanced and colorful the growth.”

Potter looked almost unwillingly intrigued. “When I arrived, I’d noted that I’d never seen such brightly colored mushrooms. I confess that the space did not feel at all welcoming until your arrival.”

“This Kielder line must have practiced advanced magical craft in this place for the magical energy to endure for so long. Your discomfort—and it would be the same for anyone not of my line—was that you landed in what could arguably be described as the seat of my family’s ritual magic.

“This type of space could be created if you can set or find a magical focus into the earth.” There were a few other elements necessary but setting the magical focus near a ley line was the most difficult part. Severus glanced around again, imagining he could see the shadows of ritual craft long past. “As I said, witness the failing of my line. Arguably one of the most magical spots in Britain and my ancestors adjusted our ward boundary so this was outside the primary ward and could be used as an apparition spot.”

“There’s a similar place at the Locke.” Potter looked thoughtful. “It’s also outside the ward boundary and set as an apparition point.”

“A fairy ring?”

“You land right in the middle of it. The mushroom growth is old but not quite so colorful as these.”

“How disrespectful they were of our sacred spaces. Any fairy ring, even a young one, is evidence of a magical circle having been cast and should be treated accordingly. But I imagine they’re easy to anchor an apparition point to. I hope this was pure laziness and ignorance and not some attempt to damage the line’s magic.”

“What will you do?”

“As soon as I’m able, I’ll adjust the ward boundary. I’ll not having people tromping through my line’s ritual space.”

Potter was nodding, looking thoughtful. “Could I impose upon you to assess the ring at the Locke?”

Severus hadn’t been expecting that. “If you wish.”

“I had thought you asked me here to persuade me to some point of view. I’m wondering now if the Great Lady knew that I needed to see this.”

“I can’t say that I won’t ever try to persuade you to a point of view, Henry.”

Potter looked uncomfortable. “I’ve become quite familiar with people trying to persuade me since the death of my father.”

“Allow me to refine my statement. I will try to persuade you with all the facts and logical arguments at my disposal. I will not try to manipulate you through guilt or some form of emotional tomfoolery.”

Potter chuckled, looking relieved and painfully young. “Yes, I’m quite familiar with the emotional tomfoolery. I have no notion of what tomfoolery even is, but I think I inferred correctly.”

“I have many opinions, Henry, and many facts too. I certainly have an idea of how I think our Assemblies should proceed and will push to achieve that end, but my duty to you ends with ensuring you have accurate information to base your decisions on. The path you walk is between you and Magic, and if anyone should try to insert themselves onto your path, I advise that you dump them into the loch.” He hesitated then added, “I believe one of the reasons our magic may have prodded us into each other’s sphere is that are the two known heirs of the magic of the founders.”

“And Magic wishes us to take up the issue of magical education at Hogwarts,” Potter finished, nodding slowly. “Yes, I feel that keenly. Though I admit, I am at a loss as to how to proceed.”

“Though it’s not a matter for the Wizengamot, it can certainly be taken up by the Noble Assembly. My inclination is to provide the information to the combined Assemblies, allow them to come to a consensus and, provided the decision resonates with our magic, we act as the power to see the will of the Assembly done. Certainly we should argue and advocate for what we believe in session, but if we are perceived as being the driving force for the change, well, I simply haven’t the time for the number of meeting requests I’d received as people attempted to whisper in my ear. Better to let the full Assemblies take the brunt of the backlash.”

Potter’s expression twisted. “I confess, there are some who have been whispering my ear off since I claimed my title.”

“May I offer some advice on that score?”

“Please.”

“Your lady wife is an intense woman.”

“Indeed.” Potter’s lips twitched and he looked curious. “My Bronwen is an amazing witch, but what has that to do with your advice.”

“She’s quite handy with the word ‘no.’ I suggest you take her more into your confidence and apprentice at her side until you’ve mastered the thundering ‘no.’”

“You think I need my wife to teach me how to say no?”

“As someone of similar age who also had to take up their title young, I know it can be difficult to separate the voices who whisper about duty and fairness. I think you struggle more than most with feeling as if you’re being unkind. Or perhaps it’s the effect of your ancestors attempting to make all wizards the same. But the demands on you will only increase once it’s known that you are the Earl of Gryffindor—and we can only delay that announcement for so long. Until you’re confident that you can look at someone who murmurs words like ‘duty’ and ‘the greater good’ in order to manipulate your choices, let others help.”

“The greater good,” Potter repeated thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that phrase recently.”

“How unfortunate. I find it often employed by those who use it to mean their notion of good.”

Potter opened his mouth, presumably to reply, but his breath stuttered and his eyes opened wide. Severus quickly glanced around and found himself echoing Henry Potter’s response.

From every direction, unicorns were approaching the clearing through the trees. There were nine in total that Severus could see, one notably larger than the rest. There were eight mares and one stallion.

The stallion broke the circle and approached Severus, staring at him intently. Severus’ magic stirred, but he wasn’t sure what he was being prodded to do.

There was a faint ‘pop’ and the familiar feel of house elf magic. An unknown elf appeared between Severus and the unicorn, bowing to the unicorn before turning to Severus. She was somewhat taller than the any house elf Severus had ever seen, dressed in purple robe, and she seemed to stand straighter than most elves.

“I am Lanie, the meet Queen of the North.”

Before Severus could react, there was another pop. “I am Arrissa, Queen of the South,” the new arrival said positioning herself on the southern end of the fairy ring.

A third pop sounded and another female elf appeared. “I am Noelly, Queen of the East.” She took the eastern position in the circle.

The fourth pop was more like a boom. “I am Tana, Queen of the West.” As expected, she took the western spot.

Severus bowed, glancing around. Most people never met even one of the elf meet queens, and yet all four of them were here. He felt like he was floundering. “Ladies, how may my house serve you?”

Lanie, the meet queen his mother was sponsor of, replied, “The leader of the Kielder unicorn herd requests that his herd be allowed to return to the forest near the castle.”

“Of course. It will be done immediately.” Severus nearly cringed. A very magical portion of Kielder forest was within the property wards which had been locked down for nearly thirty years. It seemed like Severus’ father had sealed the wards in a way that prevented the unicorn heard from getting to their part of the forest.

“The herd thanks you, Lord Prince, and welcomes a true vessel of the Kielder magics back to these sacred lands.” Lanie said formally. “My sisters and I have sought you out because our king tells us that the lord of the line of Kielder and Ravenclaw has a great magical destiny. We queens stand ready to serve you and aid in the preservation of Magic. The king assures us that you have time and attention for our needs, but we four feel that your magical purpose for the Great Lady is a great enough burden for one wizard. We stand prepared to accept another as Patron provided they too swear to support the meets in their primary duty to see to the preservation of Magic.”

Severus blinked, not sure exactly what was going on. “Who…?” And what needs did they have exactly?

Lanie cut her gaze in Henry Potter’s direction, who was watching the proceedings with wide eyes.

“I didn’t bring him here for that pur—”

“It’s all right, Severus,” Henry cut in. “Ladies, whatever it is that you need, the House of Potter stands ready to serve.”

Lanie looked back to Severus then focused on Henry. “It has been many centuries since the meets had a true Patron. Will you serve as such, with the intent to support the meets in protecting house elves, preserving magic, and assisting Lord Prince with the tasks set before him?”

Henry Potter straightened his spine. “I will.”

Lanie looked to Severus. “Then invite him into your circle, Lord Prince. Cast it and charge him to act as Patron to the elf meets.”

Severus’ magic prodded him. Hard. He wasn’t one to act without knowledge but the will of Magic was clear. He gestured for Henry to take the place in the center of the large fairy ring.

The queens had the cardinal points in the circle, and Severus realized the unicorn stallion was in one of the ordinal points. One of the female unicorns entered the circle, opposite the male. The two Kielder family guardians appeared, larger even than the stallion, taking the two remaining ordinal points.

Following magic’s prodding, Severus stood behind Potter and cast the circle.

There was a great flash of magic that was heavy and thick, and Severus felt like he could barely draw breath. When he could see clearly, he realized Lady Magic stood within the circle.

“Henry Potter,” she said softly, yet it resonated and echoed as if a gong had been struck. “Long have I waited for one of your line to once again stand in a ritual circle.”

Potter dropped to his knees, staring up at her. “My lady. How may I serve you?”

“Care for my elf queens. The time is not yet upon us where I may aid them myself. And then take up your craft, Lord Potter, for the parselmages will be needed in ways you cannot yet conceive of. Will you do this?”

“I will, Lady, and gladly too.”

“A parselmage from the east will come to you. Apprentice to him and learn your craft. In time, you will take others to apprentice yourself. And teach your children.” The ground trembled and the earth shifted right in front of Potter. An elemental viper with blue and white scales emerged from the earth. “I gift you Jessamy, an ice viper, for water is the element that most resonates with your magic, Lord of the Leviathan. Care for her well and she will serve your line for generations to come.”

Potter let the viper slither up his arm. “I will do all you have asked.”

She looked up and met Severus gaze. “Well done, Severus. I am pleased.”

– – – –

7 December 1922

Severus felt the magic in his ritual space in Prince Manor shift as Nuada made an appearance. Focused as he was on his brewing, he didn’t acknowledge the other man.

“Why are you brewing in a ritual space?” Nuada asked after several seconds, sounding confused. Severus glanced up in time to see Nuada press his hand against the magic of the ritual circle line. “You don’t usually brew with your circle cast.”

“I’d observed that potion brewing is form of ritual craft. In other ritual craft, we cast a circle to prevent unintended magics from affecting the ritual, but when we last spoke on Sunday, you’d remarked that in a properly cast circle, magic is ‘free of its bond.’ Which led me to considering the nature of ritual and our assumptions that the circle was to prevent outside magics from tainting the ritual.”

“I’m sure that’s a factor.”

“Yes, but it seems as if it’s not the only factor. Clearly some rituals work outside a circle, but the strongest rituals always require one be properly cast. Which led me to wonder if brewing in a ritual circle would affect the outcome.”

“And?”

“Something is indeed different. I can feel magic from the potion itself in ways I’m unfamiliar with.”

“And what has this led you to believe?”

“I’ve drawn no conclusions as yet.” He extinguished the flame and assessed the final product. It was the right shade, but it had a shimmer to it he’d never seen before. He summoned a rat from the cage at the far end of his work bench and placed it under an immobilization hex after stunning it unconscious. If there were any adverse effects, he’d know through a diagnostic charm.

He used a dropper to get a bit of the potion and place it in the rat’s mouth. After a couple seconds, the rat seemed to be smoking. He barely managed to cast a shield charm over it before the rat exploded.

“Hm.” Severus stared at the place where the rat used to be with no small amount of consternation.

“Is that what you expected to happen?” Nuada asked, his tone dry.

“Considering that I brewed pepper up potion, that was most assuredly not the desired result.” He stared into the cauldron at the vibrant, shimmering, orange potion, a little taken aback.

“An Dagda always brews with a circle cast. Shall I ask him how he compensates for the wild magic in the circle?”

Severus hesitated. The possibility of advice from one of the greatest potion brewers to ever exist was beyond temptation, but he was also hesitant to burden him with Severus’ experiments. There was also the issue that Severus considered himself and inventor, a creator of both spells and potions. He hadn’t earned his masteries so young because he was unable to solve problems. However, he wasn’t keen on the idea of killing himself with pepper up.

He decided to be cautious. “I would be very appreciative.”

“Bottle your potion and I’ll take it with me. He can assess that as well.”

Severus eyed the cauldron of explosive potion dubiously. “Perhaps I should place it in a stasis box.” He quickly bottled and boxed the potion then broke the circle.

Nuada accepted the box and it vanished somewhere. Then the king lounged on a conjured chaise. “Now, tell me why you’re hiding down here brewing when there are so many people in the manor desiring your presence.”

“I’m not hiding,” Severus said tartly. “I’m avoiding.”

“Is that nuance useful?”

Severus made a face as he went about cleaning up his work surface. “After the events at Kielder Castle yesterday, I felt that I’d…reached my limit.” He hated admitting that. “I’m mentally exhausted.”

“Physically exhausted too, no doubt.”

Severus shot him an inquiring look.

“You cast a powerful circle if it’s strong enough for my lady. Plus fixing the wards was no small feat.”

“Magical fatigue is more easily remedied than…” He lifted one shoulder.

“What troubles you?”

“I didn’t expect…” He trailed off not sure how to phrase what made him feel so disquieted. “I didn’t think they would want so much.” He braced his hands on the workbench, blowing out a breath. “Until this master of parselcraft arrives, Potter wants help with the fundamentals of ritual magic and assistance in understanding what legislation needs to be drafted to protect the elf meets; Iola wants me to aid her with other legislation on marriage contracts; there are at least four other lords who want assistance with additional bills; a full dozen who want access to the Ravenclaw library to research the history for the changes their magic is pushing them to make, and I haven’t the time to babysit them at the bank; Iola also wants to settle a weregild on my house for the attempt by the former lord to murder me; the Kielder Elect is an admirable woman, and I need to spend time with her to determine the needs of the people of that district; I need to continue the research into the latently magical and how to better accommodate them in the magical world; my magic is pushing me to add members to my magical house, and Hugh Davies has accepted but where will I find time to devote to that young man; Septimus asked me to be Marcus’ godfather and tutor him in potions since we believe it’s a magical craft he can practice.

“Which—” he broke off and looked around, taking a deep breath. “Which is why I’m down here. Yes, I took the opportunity to escape but I miss brewing and I thought brewing in a ritual circle might make things easier for Marcus. But I certainly wasn’t going to put a six-year-old latent in a ritual circle to brew without gauging the result first.”

Nuada was obviously fighting a smile.

Severus pointed a stirring rod at him. “And you. You pop in willy-nilly, being vague about things you know I’m going to figure out eventually.”

He finally laughed. “Go on then, Lord Prince, what have you figured out?”

Severus’ eyes narrowed at the implied challenge. “You had said there was no going back once a someone went to a spirit realm. And also that travelling between the physical realms isn’t done any longer because the doors are basically shut.”

“Aye.”

“And yet you travel wherever you will. Magic seems unable or unwilling to bend her own rules, so she’s not just moving you around. Which means there’s a reason why you were in limbo with us. If you hadn’t made an appearance here, I’d have thought perhaps you died. You have as much freedom of movement as Lady Magic without the constraint of needing wild magic in order to be here.”

Nuada’s eyes had narrowed. “And what conclusion have you drawn?”

“That you are in some way bound to the lady herself. And then I wondered what kind of bond to Magic would allow you such freedom? I admit, I’m not confident of my conclusion, but based on the evidence, I’m left to think that you’re the consort of Lady Magic.”

Nuada’s eyes opened wide then he pointed at Severus. “Stop that.”

Feeling smug, Severus crossed his arms and leaned against the bench. “Why does it matter that I gleaned the truth of things?”

“You’re already coming to understand how people thinking you have power affects their actions. I do not need the encumbrance of people thinking I can intervene in ways I actually cannot.”

“And you thought I would ask something of you?” he asked, feeling a bit offended.

“Not anymore, Severus, but I did not know you well when you first came back in time. And it’s not information that helps you in any way.”

Severus had to concede that point. “For what it’s worth, my felicitations.”

Nuada threw back his head and laughed. “Aye. I’m a lucky man.” He got to his feet. “Now, let’s sort you out.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m giving you advice, Severus, do with it what you will.”

“Joy,” Severus muttered.

“I’ll go to the bank and speak to Ragnok, the chieftain of the Horde.”

“Are they fae as well?”

“Nay. The dverger were refugees from another of the physical realms of the Earth—the physical realm ruled by the Valar. But they walked this realm when the fae did and are ally to my people. I realize the dverger aren’t the most helpful to wizards, for good reason, but if I explain that Magic has set you on your course, he will aid you.”

“And how does that help me?”

“Let the dverger administer the Ravenclaw library. Some day the works of all the founders may be found, or even Merlin or Morgan. Today, you must go with these lord or ladies and supervise them in one of the less-secure vaults. But dverger wards, protections, and access protocols would free you from ever having to go attend to the library except for your own research.”

“Hm.” Severus nodded thoughtfully. “And if I wish to exclude works from access by the assemblies, I could.” He considered for a second. “I think giving the Assembly Elect access would be a good gesture, but do you think the dverger can set an intent ward?”

“Without question. And that would remove the requests to aid all these other lords with their legislation. Or if they are truly seeking your aid in drafting the bill, send them to Lord Malfoy or Lady Black. Both are wily and cunning and adept at manipulating language. I believe that Lady Black seeks your counsel not because she needs assistance but because she desires your approval.”

Severus coughed, completely astonished.

“Ask her to take over some of your tasks in the Assembly because you trust her. Evidence of your approval and trust will assuage her need to consult you. However, you must accept the weregild she proposes.”

“I don’t want it.”

“That’s irrelevant. Her magical house has a taint because so many participated in the attempt to murder you. Their magic will push them until they make amends.”

“I don’t need their money.”

“Then take their property.”

“Pardon?”

“Tell her that one of your aims is to build refuges for the poor or those who might be driven from the magical world. Charge the Blackmoor line with aiding you in this. They have properties sitting empty. It would be no hardship for them.”

“She also wants me to foster Arcturus in my house.”

“It’s a good impulse. Arcturus will likely be chosen as heir over his father, Sirius. The family magics stir around him in ways they do not around the others. While Sirius did right by his family magic in warning the Lady Black of Phineas Nigellus’ plans, he still grieves his father’s death. Arcturus is twenty-one and newly home from finishing his mastery in transfiguration. Remove him from the bitter emotions that plague his father’s home. See him treated well by your family.”

Severus nodded. “What other advice have you? I admit to being surprised at the usefulness of it.”

Nuada’s look was decidedly unimpressed. “Were you always so impudent?”

“I think it likely. Now, please continue.”

The fae king huffed, but eventually said, “It need not be you who helps Potter with ritual craft though you may feel prodded to do so because of the connection you share through the founders’ magics. The four were uniquely magically connected. If your magic prods you to do so, then so be it. If not, you’re not the only lord who can help him with ritual craft. The Malfoys, Parkinsons, Selwyns, and Belamys are all particularly strong in ritual craft.

“In regards to the legislation to protect the meets, your mother would be a better choice as she’s worked with the meets since she was a girl.”

Severus nodded, wondering why that hadn’t occurred to him.

“The rest I do think falls on you. I believe your ancestral magics are guiding you on this issue of the magically latent, so my only advice to you is build a team so it’s not just you. Ollivander is interested but considers himself just a tool maker now. Bring him closer to the project. Have the dverger do a full ancestry on your line and discuss the issue in the Assemblies. From that, I think you’ll find all the assistance you need.”

“Please explain because we have the full Prince ancestry.”

“Nay, you have the one the Wizengamot forced the dverger to define in treaty as an ancestral tree. Wizards didn’t want to see supposed squibs and muggles in their ancestral documents, and they added a clause in their treaty with the dverger that anyone doing ancestral research would only see wizards and witches. You must specifically request that squibs and muggles be included.”

“And I gather I’m going to find that the Prince family is larger than I thought?”

“Many more in every line. Including those with active magic who are supposed muggleborns.”

Severus scowled at what magical prejudice had brought them to.

“Also, you need to read Rowena’s journal titled A Treatise on Marriage.”

He’d been reading journals as he found them, had time, or they seemed applicable to his research, but he’d pushed that one to the back of the shelf as he had no interest. Though he recalled his magic giving him a prod when he’d seen the book. It was shortly after he’d claimed the title and he wasn’t as attuned to listening as he was now. “I gather it’s about more than marriage.”

“It’s not truly about marriage but about why your magically latent began to appear.”

Severus sighed and made plans to go to the bank to retrieve the journal.

“Now, stop hiding in the dungeon.”

“I’m not hiding!”

“You’re hiding. Go accept Hugh Davies oath to your ancestral magics.”

“Libby!”

She immediately popped in, a crazily adoring expression on her face as she looked at Nuada, who smiled fondly at her. “Yes, Lord Severus, how can Libby be helping?”

“Is Hugh Davies still with my mother?”

“Yes. He often be helping her.”

“Can you ask him to join me here?”

“Libby be doing it right away.” She side-eyed Nuada. “If King Nuada be stopping by Libby’s kitchen, she be baking him fruit tarts.”

Nuada grinned and then vanished.

– – – –

11 Dec 1922

Severus entered the Prince Manor apparition room only to be hailed by Libby before he could spin away.

“A visitor be stopping by while you still abed, Lord Severus. He be leaving you a note and say you not be getting the potion back.”

Severus accepted the letter, frowning. “He’s a nuisance. I hope you didn’t give him any more pastries.”

Libby grinned. “Libby be feeding him, yes indeed. He be sexier with a little meat on his bones.”

“Libby!” Severus interrupted before she could say something he really didn’t want to hear.

“Libby not blind. He’s not elf-sexy but good enough. Very rugged.”

“That will be all,” Severus said desperately, not wanting to hear about how the house elves were fantasizing about the fae king. He opened the letter, feeling the powerful privacy spells on the parchment.

— —
Severus,

Dagda said brewing in a ritual circle will immensely magnify the strength of the potion and even stabilize brewing for difficult things because of the presence of wild magic. However, you must drop the circle before even a drop is used or bottled. Removing the potion from the cauldron while the circle is in effect will change the magical properties.

He thanks you kindly for the large vial of explosive liquid. He’s having great fun with it (by that I mean that he’s terrorizing Dian Cécht) and requests the formula and the ingredients so he can search for possible replacements in Tír na nÓg.

I have not yet decided if acceding to his request is wise. I’d like my kingdom to still be standing.

-N
— —

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and spun away to the ministry.

“Good morning, Lord Prince,” the Kielder Elect said softly as she stepped up next to him almost immediately, walking with him toward the lift.

“Good morning, Ms. Tetchy.” They made polite conversation on the way to the assembly chambers. Evelyn Tetchy was fifty-two years of age and had been the representative for the Kielder magical district for nearly two decades. He found her quite tolerable overall and had no issue working closely with her.

Once in the room, he watched the various members slowly file in.

“Are these joint meetings going to be a regular occurrence?” Tetchy asked, still with him.

“I would imagine so. Our Assembly agreed that unless the issue is private in regards to a member’s ancestral magic that we would call a combined assembly. The noble protocols on the room allow us to keep confidential anything that’s not ready for public consumption.”

“And you think our Assembly would violate their oath as a representative and speak out of turn otherwise?” she asked, though her tone was mild.

“I think that anyone, regardless off their Assembly, can speak without having thought the matter through, and the protocols and spells help ensure there are no mistakes.”

She inclined her head and moved to take the seat next to his. The table was in the shape for presentation rather than discussion so it was in the long, half-oval arc instead of round. Rather than have the Assembly Elect sit in the back against the wall, Marcellus had decided to have the Noble and Elect members for each district sit together. The Noble Assembly allowed ample room between each member so it was no hardship to fit in the additional twenty-eight people.

Marcellus called the Assembly to order. “Lord Potter and Lord Prince will be presenting some information they’ve found in their roles as heads of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, respectively. They discussed this information with me, and I felt it was in our best interests to begin discussing the matter. I believe it casts a bright lumos on a fundamental reason why our magic has declined since the time of the founders.” He looked to Severus and Potter. “Lord Prince, Lord Potter, you have the floor.”

Henry waved Severus toward the floor. “I’ll leave the presentation to Lord Prince. I’ve corroborated the information he’s found through my research in Gryffindor’s library.”

Severus stepped up on the small dais and showed the assembly a small, leather-bound book. “This is one of the personal journals of Rowena Ravenclaw, written later in her life. It was a passage in this journal that caught my attention and led me to researching the original charter for Hogwarts. Lady Ravenclaw’s personal journals were often written in Archaic Latin. It seems that Lord Slytherin kept his journals in parselscript, which she found vexing in the extreme. She took to keeping her journals in Old Latin since it was a form he’d never mastered. She mentioned in one journal that she’d tried a type of cuneiform at first but said it was limited and time-consuming and she would only take spite so far.”

He waited for the chuckles to abate before holding up a page. “I mention that because while I can read and write Old Latin, translating to English verbally would make for a stuttered, incomprehensible mess. I’ve sworn a vow that this is translated to the best of my ability for a modern speaker of English. Copies of the Old Latin as well as the literal, word-for-word translation will be available to view after the session.” Clearing his throat, he began to read.

“The Steward of Hogsmeade demanded audience with me, I’d thought it on some issue between the school and the town. To my dismay, it was to issue a demand that his son be sorted into Ravenclaw House. I explained that a sorting into a mentorship house at Hogwarts must be earned, that only the brightest and most talented with a clear direction in their studies and aims are suitable candidates.

“He heard none of it, threatening to cause problems for the school with the muggle Mormaer if his son wasn’t sorted into a house. If the boy had a bit of talent, I would consider it, but I find him to be intellectually lazy and shiftless. Less than a fifth of the students who work hard are sorted into a house. I refuse to waste effort with a clod of dirt when there are so many bright, talented children in our school.”

“The journal entry goes on and there are later entries where there were additional conflicts with this steward, but it was enough to spark my curiosity about this mention of only a fifth of the students being sorted into a house.” He dropped the concealment charm on a glass case at his side. Even through the glass and protective wards, the book inside thrummed with magic. Every member of the Assemblies leaned forward.

“This is the original charter of Hogwarts, penned by Helga Hufflepuff herself. Under careful preservation wards, I read it. You’ll notice it’s rather thin. The purpose of the school was to provide a general magical education while also teach a few core non-magical subjects. Each of the four founders would mentor students who showed particular aptitude in their areas of expertise.”

He then enlarged another case, filled with books. “These are the first five revisions of the Hogwarts Charter. For the most part, they are expounding or expanding on the original charter. Incidentally, at the date of her journal entry, they were using the second revision of the charter.”

He checked his list of notes. “The method of sorting was changed by the school board and headmaster working in concert in 1352. Prior to that point, all children started as simply students of Hogwarts and were grouped into dorms by year. The hat was placed on a child’s head every year, but for most first, second, or third years, the ritual was pro-forma and done without fanfare as it was exceedingly rare to be sorted before the fourth year.

“If you were sorted into a house, it was for career mentorship and specialized training. Children in a Hogwarts house often had double with the workload of an average student, so many children did not desire house sorting.

“Lord Slytherin’s house taught politics, stewardship, estate management, law, and things of that nature. He was from a wealthy, landed family, and heir to his father’s estates. His areas of expertise were those a future lord would need. It was into his house that most of the rare early-year sortings went. Those with a clear purpose and desire to support their ancestral magic. From Slytherin house came the best practitioners of law, nobles ready for their birthright, and estate managers of great renown. The only thing he taught outside of what could be called governance was parselcraft as he was more adept at it than Lord Gryffindor, but parselmouths were rare even in that day.”

He waited for the exclamations of shock to fade over his implication that Lord Gryffindor had been a parselmouth. “The dverger referred to Lord Gryffindor as a one-man magical war. And, yes, he was a parselmouth, though he focused on offensive and defensive magics. He was an expert dueler and sportsman, but also specialized in ward breaking and ward smithing. He and his apprentices mentored those who were magically powerful and sought careers in what would now be called the aurors, hit wizards, and the magical military. They also trained curse breakers and warders, with the exception of rune-based warding, which was taught in Ravenclaw.

“And speaking of Ravenclaw, the lady was a famed intellectual who mentored spell crafters, potion masters, runic warding, rune magic, magical theorists, and some mentoring for herbology where it applied to potions and also future healers who would focus on spell damage.

“And, finally, Lady Hufflepuff mentored a more eclectic group of subjects. Music, art, healing, writing, herbology. She taught a select group divination if they showed aptitude and interest in the discipline.

“Immediately, some of you may find this to be a better system while others prefer what we have today. But I ask you to consider that the reason why we have the current system is because of laziness and corruption. And that is not a solid foundation for change.”

Severus gestured to Henry Potter. “I yield the floor to Lord Potter who will explain why the sorting system was changed.”

They switched spots, and soon Henry Potter was glancing around the room as if assessing every one in it. “Godric Gryffindor did not keep as many personal journals as the others, by his own account of it. He considered himself a blunt instrument who lacked nuance in his thinking when it came to matters of politics. He offended more people than not and was often considered to be a magical rival for Merlin himself.

“Even though his political views tended to be egalitarian, I was surprised to find that he was not so when it came to matters of magic. Lord Gryffindor recognized that not every person who wanted to do a thing was magically capable of it. Most careers he mentored for had strict requirements in terms of strength of magic. It was unheard of for anyone who was less than a blue on the Myrddin scale as a first year to be admitted to the house of the griffin.

“Yes, you had to walk into Hogwarts a warlock in your power levels to even be considered to mentor under Godric Gryffindor. Though he did note one magical late bloomer who went from orange on the scale to violet in a particularly explosive magical maturation at the age of thirteen.

“I see shock on many faces. We don’t even test our children anymore. But in the founders’ time, every Hogwarts child was tested throughout their schooling to keep them from aiming for a career they were not magically powerful enough for. Similarly, mental acumen was frequently assessed to make sure a particularly dull quill did not aim himself into the field of spell craft.”

Henry glanced around again, obviously gauging reactions. “It seemed a contradiction at first that a man who was known for equal treatment was so rigid in his policy of who he’d mentor. But then I truly understood that there is no such thing as magical equality. Every witch or wizard in Britain should have the same access to healing, government services, legal protection, and so forth. But not every member of our society is even capable of spell craft or ward breaking. And because we could not teach all of the children ward breaking, we began to teach none of them. And that is pushing our magic to the lowest level.

“You might wonder what precipitated this change. In 1352, with the fifth edition of the Charter of Hogwarts in effect, an addendum was made stating that for the sixth edition, the sorting rules would be changed to allow for all children to be sorted to a house on their first day of school.”

Henry glanced to Severus. “Certainly we wondered why this was and, in our research, we found documentation from heirs of Rowena and Godric explaining what had happened.

“The houses looked for talent, passion, intelligence, power, diligence, or circumstances of birth to determine who to mentor. Sometimes in many combinations of the above. Want was no guarantee of placement. All it took was one influential man with a son of mediocre power levels who wanted to be trained by the House of Gryffindor to cause this. He persuaded the board of governors that we were damaging our children by not sorting them into a house. That which you used to have to work for should be given to you simply because you arrived on the grounds.

“There are reasons why you must be powerful magically to pursue certain careers. Our own ministry tried to remove the Myrddin rating assessments for hit wizards, which is nonsense—some mandatory spells in hitwizard training can’t even be cast by anyone not at least blue on the scale. While the Wizengamot saw the absurdity of removing the power requirements for certain professions, private enterprise can employ supposed curse breakers who have not the power to hold advanced shield charms should their attempts to dismantle a curse fail. This is folly. A folly of our making.

“It was a matter of great pride to be sorted into a Hogwarts house, but it was also a lot of work. These greedy men wished to afford the honor of a house with none of the effort. After the change, there was no mentorship and the honor of being sorted into a house was lost. Instead of producing lords and estate managers with great political prowess and cunning, we have a bunch of children awarded for being sneaky while those with true cunning are sorted elsewhere.” He shot a pointed look at Severus, and most of the assembly laughed. Severus glared but it lacked heat.

“Instead of powerful curse breakers and duelers, aurors or magical infantry, we have a bunch of reckless dunderheads. Rather than training the best potion masters or spell crafters, we have intellectual snobbery. No offense, Lord Prince, you’re a credit to your house, though you apparently should have been in Slytherin.”

Severus couldn’t argue with that so he shrugged.

“The loss of mentorship of Hufflepuff House is perhaps the most tragic. There hasn’t been an inspired magical musician come out of Hogwarts since the sorting was changed, and she graduated in 1350. The loss of the magical arts in Britain is terrible stain on our society. Those with passion and talent go abroad to study and often find they’re years behind the others because they did not train at Hogwarts. So, today the caricature of the Hufflepuff student is that of a duffer who can only claim to be loyal and only to that of their own house.

“While there are many reasons why we are floundering as a society, we can easily rectify this issue. Everyone deserves the opportunity to have the basics of an education. But from that point, individual merit, power, intelligence, and talent should be a factor. And I stress individual merit because intelligence and power didn’t earn you a place in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Those were needed, yes, but only those willing to work were honored with a placement in a house.”

Severus mentally congratulated Henry on his oratory prowess. To hear him speak, you wouldn’t think he’d been a bundle of nerves the day before at the prospect of having to address the combined Assemblies.

Henry looked around the room again, meeting people’s gazes, his expression earnest. “We have let mediocrity become the rule of the land. We are poised for a great magical renewal, and we need to change. We need proper houses at Hogwarts and not caricature children trying to be cunning, smart, loyal, or brave. Let all learn. Let those who work, excel.”

Chapter Eight

28 December 1926 – four years later

Severus entered Diagon Alley, needing to purchase several cauldrons. One of his elves did the majority of the household shopping, but Severus insisted on selecting cauldrons and potion ingredients himself.

He was almost to the potion supply shop when he was hailed by an unfortunately familiar voice. Putting a firm rein on his temper, he turned. “Mr. Dumbledore, how unexpected.” After a beat, he added, “Pardon me, Professor Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore’s smile was bright, but it looked affected to Severus’ jaded eyes. “Good morning, Lord Prince. I was in the alley doing some post-holiday shopping and saw you enter. Can you spare a moment?”

“A brief moment, yes.” Severus wanted to say no but, due to his increased involvement in the running of Hogwarts, he couldn’t very easily snub one of the professors.

“Shall we adjourn to the cafe?”

“I don’t have that much time.”

Dumbledore’s smile slipped briefly, but he moved out of the main walking path, though the alley wasn’t at all busy. “I wanted to speak to you about the situation at Hogwarts. We’ve had a full term under this new sorting regime, and I think we can all agree that it’s not in the students’ best interests.”

“I’m in frequent contact with the headmaster, and he’s given me no indication that any problems have arisen.”

“Well, one must consider that Headmaster Parkinson is advancing in years.”

“Eighty-two isn’t advanced years for a wizard, especially not one of Lord Parkinson’s magical strength. However, as has been oft explained, he took the post temporarily to see Hogwarts to rights while we search for a permanent head.”

“I do think Armando Dippet a good choice for the role. He did an admirable job as interim headmaster after poor Phineas was killed.”

Severus glared. Dumbledore made it sound like Black tripped over a crag in the sidewalk rather than being beheaded while trying to murder Severus. “Lord Potter, myself, and the rest of the board of governors disagreed.” Before Dumbledore could argue further, Severus held up a hand. “What exactly is the problem with the students?”

“You must admit the situation is quite demoralizing. All the existing children had their houses stripped from them, and a mere sixteen children were sorted into a house at the beginning of term—three of which have asked to return to the common house. Surely you can see that this is divisive and upsetting.”

“I see no such thing. While I will concede that it’s a difficult circumstance, they will adjust. Even though agreement was swift on the board that the sorting needed to revert to how it was originally, we spent over three years arguing about how to make the change. You, the other professors, and staff were given a voice in how the switch should be implemented. You personally argued against every single plan proposed and offered no solution of your own. Lord Potter and I invoked heir rights to change the sorting to the original charter out of sheer desperation. Yes, it was abrupt, but all the children are in the same proverbial boat.” They had actually stopped sorting new students two years past, putting all the first and second years in a new dorm together, letting them have their first sorting with this year’s batch of first years.

“Except those thirteen.”

“Yes, thirteen. One of which is a particularly motivated first year! A damning indictment on how our academic standards have fallen. Nearly a fifth of the student body was in a house at the end of Lady Ravenclaw’s life, and yet less than two percent were sorted at the beginning of the term. Either they know less or they lack ambition and focus. Those are the problems you should be applying yourself to as one of their professors.”

Dumbledore’s shoulders stiffened. “You claim these houses are about mentoring for skilled students, yet I have several very talented sixth and seventh year transfiguration students and they were not sorted.”

“And what do they plan to do with these transfiguration skills?”

“Pardon?”

“What career are they pursuing? What is their aim? Are they interested in transfiguration experiments or perhaps research into Gamp’s Law?”

“They haven’t decided as yet. They’re children!”

“The houses do not exist to mentor someone into being exceptional at something for no purpose. If someone wishes to pursue transfiguration purely for the sake of itself, their path remains unchanged. They’ll take the NEWTs and then work on their mastery. Based on their class performance alone, over a hundred students were identified for individual mentorship on helping choose a career or trade. If any of them are skilled and focused, they’ll be sorted into a house at the beginning of the next term.”

“You expect a child to know their life direction. It is unreasonable!”

“There has to be more than being skilled. I was exceptionally skilled at transfiguration and charms during my Hogwarts years, yet I would have been sorted for Ravenclaw to be mentored in potions because the minute I had potion ingredients in my hands, I had an instinct for what to do with them and I hungered to pursue that. The hat would have sorted me into Ravenclaw to develop that into something.

“If any of these students you speak of had been passionate about the possibilities of transfiguration, they would have been sorted. But, as it is, they’re just good at it.”

“How can you know how you would have been sorted?”

“The hat told me. His charm work is astonishing, really. He remembers every student ever sorted and can tell you how he would have sorted them should the founders’ wishes have been honored. Most first years who are sorted are for Slytherin house to learn how to manage their estates. The hat told me I’d have been sorted in first year because I came to Hogwarts knowing more about potions than most OWL students and was utterly obsessed with them.”

“And yet, not being sorted into your house under this current method hasn’t hurt your career prospects one whit,” Dumbledore countered

“I was never content with what Hogwarts had to teach me on the subject and had tutors every holiday. However, I still went into my apprenticeship with bad habits from too many years of self study. But I am not the point of our discussion. The board of governors agreed that we needed a full seven-year trial to determine if this sorting methodology was viable because we anticipated that children removed from a house they felt some affinity towards might not be the best test case. Yet, despite knowing this, you complain to me after only one term.”

“I am not complaining, sir, I am simply pointing out that the children are not happy,” Dumbledore retorted stiffly. “And the new classes on wizarding traditions are not well received, nor are some of the other new classes.”

“The objection to the new classes is noted, but it holds no sway with me. Hogwarts offers less classes than most magical schools, and I won’t have it. We will be competitive with other institutions of magical learning. As for the misery of the children… We have mind healers doing assessments to ensure that the change in the school doesn’t detrimentally affect their future prospects. Other than a couple of cases, which we are monitoring, the healers are not overly concerned at this point. Though they have remarked that the two year groups who were not sorted but lived together as one large group are markedly happier than any other year in the school. This tells me that the five years who ‘lost’ their house may be the only ones supposedly miserable with the situation. We’re going to great lengths to see that they are not unduly affected.

“One of the things we are demanding of the teaching staff is that they do their part to ensure the children see the reason for these changes and support them through it. If you feel this is beyond you because you personally object to the change, do feel free to tender your resignation.”

Dumbledore drew himself up, looking completely offended. “I believe my place is at Hogwarts. It is my duty to look after our future.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed at the phrasing of that last sentence. “It is your duty to teach transfiguration and encourage any children who are unhappy about the sorting to work on their focus and skills. Or help them understand that a mentorship house may not be what they need. Not even every bright child is ready to work toward their future.”

“I will always do my duty to my children. But, on that subject, two of the children who were sorted into Ravenclaw are being given mentorship in transfiguration. Why was I not called on for this task?”

“First, because you didn’t offer. Second, you have duties to the un-sorted children that supersede anything else. Finally, both are being tutored in different applications of transfiguration that you’re not qualified to teach.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“No offense was meant, Professor, but even someone with a mastery in transfiguration cannot serve as a house mentor for a skill that he has not received certification. For instance, you cannot teach someone transfiguration as it applies to magical construction as you’ve never apprenticed with a magical builder. You’re not an animagus personally, so we’d never allow you to mentor someone who wanted to become one. You’d need a mastery in defense and I’d need to see recommendations to allow you to teach transfiguration as it applies to combat magics. These students certainly need to continue to advance their regular transfiguration skills, so if you wished to schedule advanced study sessions with them for the foundational skills of transfiguration, I’m sure they’d be grateful.”

“You would ask me to make the time to tutor individual students involved in a program I disagree with?”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “I would ask nothing of you but that you teach your transfiguration classes free from personal or political agendas, and fulfill your duties when it’s your turn to act as monitor in the common house dorms.” He felt a familiar magic brush against his, and it was moving closer. “Now, I think our conversation is over.”

“I have several other matters to discuss with you, sir.”

There was an excited squeal as Septimus approached, and Severus felt a distinct tug on his body. “I’ll have no more of this discussion. Take your issues up with the headmaster. If he needs my or Lord Potter’s involvement, we’ll be informed.” Another sharp tug and an upset vocalization were the result from the babe in Septimus’ arms not getting Severus’ attention quickly enough. A disquieted look passed over Dumbledore’s face as he looked toward Septimus and the baby.

“Good day, Dumbledore,” Severus said dismissively as he turned away and crossed the few steps to Septimus.

“Are we interrupting, Severus?” Septimus asked, shooting a glance Dumbledore’s direction.

“Not in the slightest.” Severus accepted his nearly four-month-old godson into his arms. “You impudent little sod,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the baby’s head, supporting it carefully even though the baby had already begun to lift it on his own. “Trying to summon me like that.” Abraxas giggled and grabbed at Severus’ ear.

“Is there something I can help you with, Professor Dumbledore?” Septimus said, his tone biting. Septimus was on the board of governors, and he’d had polite interactions with Dumbledore in the past, but then Dumbledore felt the need to publicly express his opinions about children of ritual. He’d made an enemy of the Malfoys that day.

Changing the laws in regards to ritual craft and blood magics had been relatively simple compared to getting someone to actually perform some of those rituals. Particularly having a child of ritual. Abraxas Malfoy was the first ritual child born in Britain in hundreds of years. Magic nearly sparked off of him. In point of fact, when he was happy, it wasn’t uncommon for him to develop a magical aura, white and gold shimmering on his skin. He was everything magical children should be, and yet people frowned at him and whispered over the means of his conception.

Ignoring Dumbledore, who had stepped away but was still lingering, Severus adjusted Abraxas’ blankets. “I thought he was staying with Genevieve today.”

“I swear he knows when I’m going to see you. Nearly fractured glass with his caterwauling until I readied him to take him with me. I’m not sure how he knows your name, but he does.”

Severus’ magic was uniquely compatible with Abraxas’ so he’d been chosen to be godfather, the same as with Marcus, the adopted son of the Malfoys.

Severus cast a wandless privacy ward, and the baby laughed and reached out. “I swear he can see the ward,” Severus mused aloud.

“I think he does see them. When he was lying in bed with Gen yesterday, she had a rollover ward cast on him, and he kept poking at it.”

“He tried to summon me just now. I felt a physical tug.”

Septimus stared, mouth falling open. “Should we bind his magic? This worries me, Severus.”

“No, I don’t think that’s advisable. I’ve never found any account of binding children’s magic, other than in cases of a core fracture, until about two hundred years ago. It’s a fairly modern practice to discourage ‘accidental’ magic of powerful children, and you know I think most modern changes to magical practices were probably ill-considered or done for the wrong reasons.”

“Then we’ll just have to make do,” Septimus said with a smile, reaching out to tickle under Abraxas’ chin. Abraxas squealed and waved his hands around. “Now tell me why you needed me to meet you this morning.”

“I want to pick out a gift for Marcus to congratulate him on his brewing success, but when I asked him what he likes, he was very reticent.”

“When it comes to the potions tutoring, he’s very cognizant that he has access to one of the most skilled potions masters in Europe. He’s reluctant to ask for anything.”

Severus scoffed. “I wouldn’t spend the time with him if he did not have the aptitude. I’ve explained this. Are you filling his head with this nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense, Severus. Aspiring potions masters were already eager to apprentice under you, and since you released that lycanthropy potion, they’re virtually lined up at your gate.”

Damocles would now never invent Wolfsbane, but Severus had started with that idea and expanded on it, making the transformation near painless and leaving the afflicted with full use of their faculties. Reining in rampant prejudice in Britain was vital, and werewolves needed to be perceived as any other magical member of their society. They’d tried to award him an Order of Merlin for it, but he’d declined. And then promptly ignored the potions world clamoring for his attention.

“But, no, neither Gen nor I have said anything to him about it. You’re his godfather, if you want to tutor him in potions even before Hogwarts, that’s completely acceptable. I think he’s heard it at school. Envious students and teachers who tell him to be grateful.”

“Grateful for what?”

“That someone magically latent has been afforded so many opportunities. And before you rail at me, of course I set that to rights, but he can’t help but hear. When we do family things, he’s more open about what he wants, but as your student, he’s…reticent.”

Severus scowled, getting an attempt at a mirror scowl from Abraxas, which made him laugh, causing the baby to giggle. “Come. The shopping can wait while I explain some things, and we should get Abraxas indoors before his warming charms wear off.”

Once they were seated in the café under a privacy ward, Severus said, “I know I’ve told you that Marcus is doing well in potions, but I thought it best not to expound. Perhaps I was in error. I have tutored Marcus so diligently because he shows great promise.” Severus hesitated briefly. “The gift is because he’s completed all the requirements for his international OWLs.”

Septimus’ eyes opened wide and he made a coughing sound. “Severus! He’s not even ten!”

“I’m aware. And he can’t even sit for an international OWL until he’s twelve, but that’s how quickly he’s advanced.”

“But he told me that he melted a cauldron just last week. Expert potioneers do not melt cauldrons.”

“Of course they do!” Severus snapped. “Expert potion masters experiment and melt cauldrons constantly. Average potion masters brew difficult potions. And that’s the difference. Marcus could easily be one of the best potion inventors to ever live. He’s got such an affinity for ingredients. But he’s young and hasty and tends to throw in the nettles before he’s thought it through. He’ll be ready for NEWTs requirements within a year, but he needs more time. I thought I was helping him by not saying anything because I feared it would be more difficult to rein him in if he knew just how gifted he is.”

Septimus sat back, looking utterly flummoxed. Then a proud smile curved his lips. “He’s a remarkable lad.”

“Indeed. And if Marcus wasn’t remarkable, I’d have one of my apprentices teach him. Or Hugh Davies, who is proving to be a dab hand at potions too, though not as good as Marcus. But Marcus is outstanding and it’s a pleasure to teach him myself.”

“He’s been hesitant about attending Hogwarts…”

Severus could understand that. The plan was to open Hogwarts to the magically latent in the next year or two, but it would be in small numbers to see how they integrated with the school. There were only a few subjects latents couldn’t take, and with the expansion of classes offered, there were more classes he could attend than not. Core muggle math and language, government, history, wizarding traditions, ritual magic, blood magic, potions, arithmancy, runes, divination, astronomy… Now that he knew the truth of things in regards to magical latency, it pained him that the latent been excluded from the magical world based on the wand work needed for charms, transfiguration, and defense.

“He’ll probably be in the first year of latents to attend,” Severus replied. “And it would honestly help, I think. He’s so intellectually gifted that he’ll likely sort to Ravenclaw, provided he wants to pursue potions as a career.”

“He does,” Septimus confirmed. “He raves about all the things he wants to do with potions some day. I thought perhaps his focus on potions would drive a wedge between he and Ciprian, but they seem as close as ever.”

“I make sure to give Ciprian my time in other ways. His affinity with runes is remarkable, and he’s already designing minor spells. He’s even developed a couple of convenience charms for household items for Marcus to use with his wand. I’m still testing them, but he plans to gift them to Marcus on his birthday. I could see Ciprian choosing spellcraft as a career choice.”

“Interesting. The two boys with affinities along the lines of your masteries.”

“I also have masteries in herbology and defense but, yes, it’s curious how they’ve each focused on one of my primary interests.”

“You’re mentoring the two potions prodigies sorted into Ravenclaw. Do you anticipate continuing to mentor students sorted into Ravenclaw?”

“Perhaps. It’s likely since I’m the blood heir to the house. Though even if I do, I might try to find someone else to mentor Marcus when he’s at school. Remove any inference of favoritism and also expose him to another master and their style. The same with spellcraft for Ciprian. It wouldn’t do for me to be his mentor.” While the groups of sorted children were small, most of the mentors were volunteers. Primarily from the board or in the Noble Assembly.

Septimus nodded, looking thoughtful. “We should tell him about his successes. I can see your point, but my son is insecure enough that I don’t think he’ll suffer from a swelled head for hearing that he’s done well. In fact, I think he’ll work harder.”

Severus nodded. “And what does he have his heart set on?”

“He is rather fond of your platinum cauldron.”

“Cheeky Malfoys. Your oldest wants my platinum cauldron and your youngest tries to summon me.” As if knowing he was being spoken about, Abraxas smacked his palms against Severus’ cheeks. “What besides a solid platinum cauldron, which he will not receive from me until he’s achieved his mastery.”

Septimus grinned. “He’s very keen on those crystal stirring rods.”

Severus nodded slowly. “Yes, I think those will do nicely.” They were quite expensive because the only good ones were dverger wrought as only dverger knew how to properly cut the crystals. But Severus had funds to spare and Marcus had worked hard.

“Then let us away to the shop.”

– – – –

Severus was relieved that Abraxas was asleep after their shopping trip so he could bid farewell to Septimus without having an upset godson to contend with. His friend returned home with plans to meet for dinner at Prince Manor to give the gift to Marcus. Severus headed further into the alley to continue his shopping.

Libby popped in as he was consulting his list. “Lord Severus, your lady mother be telling me to remind you that you must be home in two hours. Lord Potter’s entourage and the queens be arriving and she say you need to be proper host.”

Severus sighed. “I’m completely superfluous at these meetings.”

Libby scoffed. “Libby be doing her duty in reminding Lord Severus.” With that, she popped away.

Henry Potter had handled house elf legal reform like a seeker going after a snitch. He and Septimus had become Severus’ greatest allies in setting change into motion, followed by Evander Weasley and Marcellus Parkinson. Severus thought Weasley had joined so readily because he wasn’t going to have a Malfoy take a more progressive stance than a Weasley, but he’d stayed because of the benefit to his magic and magical house.

He set a magical reminder to nudge him a half hour before he needed to be home and then headed to the bookstore.

The research into the full ancestry of the Prince and Kielder lines had yielded nearly eighty wizards, witches, and latents. Severus had been stunned and spent more than a year methodically making contact with distant relatives. Most had eventually agreed to be members of the House of Kielder and two recently became vassals to his house. They’d learned that the more people in his magical house, the stronger his ancestral magic was for every single person.

Septimus had done the ritual as well, and there were hundreds of family members, with more being born daily. Not surprising that there’d be so many more as the Malfoys had long been troubled with the magically latent in their lines and were one of the more ruthless lines in regards to disowning those perceived as unpure. Septimus had solicitors and administrative staff still working on contacting all the members of his house even four years later.

Severus often wondered if how strong and vibrant the Malfoy family magics now were contributed to Abraxas’ magical strength.

Not to be outdone by a Malfoy, Evander Weasley had done the same ritual and found nearly two hundred family members spread across Europe and even as far away as North America and Australia. It had been a shock since there was no recorded history of Weasleys disowning latents—a stain on their house that had been carefully erased many years back.

Marcellus Parkinson and Iola Black had been next. The Parkinsons were much like the Malfoys, but Lady Black had stunned them all with nearly a thousand unknown Black family members around the globe. She was elated and despairing in turns. That she could so enrich her house was a joy, but there were so many to find, and not all her family embraced the change. The first latent to be brought back into the family magics, outside of Iola’s husband, had been nearly murdered by an angry family member. It had been slow progress for the Black family comparatively.

Most of the other noble families had slowly come around to expanding their magical house, but a few were resistant. Longbottom and Abbott had surprised him with their reluctance to embrace change, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. The Abbotts and Longbottoms he’d known in his life as a Snape were purebloods, which didn’t happen without it being purposeful.

They’d eventually come around in the last year, leaving the only holdout to be the Earl of Bohon, Ademar Rosier. Rosier was also resisting his family magic’s preference for heir. Overall, he was becoming a problem.

Finished with his book shopping, Severus nodded to Lord Nott as he exited Flourish and Blotts and headed toward the bank for a meeting with his account manager. As he passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley, his magic gave unsubtle push. He glanced along the alley, seeing minimal foot traffic, and felt another prod. Storing his purchases in his bracelet, he dropped his wand into his hand, obscuring it in the folds of his robe. Magic gave another push.

Severus didn’t think his magic would lead him into danger, but he had survived several attempts on his life the last few years by being cautious. He had barely rounded the first turn, when a woman leaning against the wall of the shop just before Borgin & Burkes caught his attention. She had lank hair hanging around her face as she was partially bent forward as if trying to regain her breath.

What made his breath catch was that she was heavily pregnant.

He approached silently, stopping several feet away. “Miss, are you unwell?”

She gave a start of surprise and straightened up, gaze flying to Severus. Merope Riddle. He’d spent years making one of his routine walks to be near Wool’s Orphanage to justify him happening upon her three days from now. For all that he was prepared, he was also not ready. Other than minor plans, Severus had put the matter of Merope and her child out of his mind until closer to Tom’s birth.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “I was just on my way to Borgin & Burkes and paused here to rest.” She was pale and sweating, dark circles around her eyes.

“So late in your pregnancy, shouldn’t you be abed? Is there no family who can assist you?” He already knew the answer, of course, but should a pensieve memory of this encounter be needed, he couldn’t know anything of her circumstances.

“I… There’s no one.” Her hands, which had been resting on her belly, fisted in the fabric of her skirts. “I just need to get to see Mr. Borgin.”

“This isn’t any fit place for a lady, and certainly not a pregnant one. Is there some way I can assist you?”

She blinked at him in apparent confusion then her eyes widened. “Oh. You’re Lord Prince! I’m…I’m sorry, my lord.”

“For what?”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m in your way?”

“You’re not in my way. I saw you here and you seem quite tired. I want to help if I’m able.”

She looked conflicted as she pressed her hand to her chest. “I want to see if Borgin will buy my necklace, but I’m so tired.” Aside from the pregnancy, she looked like skin and bones. No doubt she was looking for money for food and lodging.

“Perhaps I can barter with him on your behalf,” he offered.

Merope stared at him for several seconds then lifted a necklace over her head, removing it from where it had been hidden behind her blouse. It was Slytherin’s locket.

“That looks to be quite old,” Severus remarked, taking a step closer.

“It’s a family heirloom,” she admitted.

“And why would you part with such a treasure?”

She bit her lip and her eyes flicked away. “I need to eat. For the baby.”

“And for yourself.”

She shrugged.

“Do you have a home?”

“A few blocks away, yes. I need to pay the landlord and the locket is all I have left.” She met his gaze again, eyes imploring. “I know I can’t raise him myself, I know it, but I just need to last a few more days. Then I’ll go to the orphanage.” She smiled faintly. “I have saved a few knuts to use the public floo to go to Hypatia House. It sounds like such a lovely place for a magical child to grow up.”

Severus blinked. And there was the difference. The Prince family had opened a magical orphanage. “The Prince family, among others, have also opened emergency shelters for those in need. Why did you not go there? Why sell all your belongings and deprive yourself of food?”

Merope looked away again. “I thought it best to stay in the muggle world.”

“I will certainly barter with Borgin on your behalf if that is what you wish, but I believe you and your child could do with some rest, food, and then some potions. Would you permit me to assist you?”

She met his gaze and stared, unblinking, for a long time. “Do you swear that you mean no harm to my child?”

“I so swear on my magic that I mean no harm to your child or you.”

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Chapters 5-6 | Main Page | Chapters 9-10 (End)

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