The Pureblood Princess | Sirius Black

|113| Supposed To Be a Secret

Everything about the forbidden room pressed in on Adelaide, musty and oppressive. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl the ancient stone walls seemed to say.

She walked with a mad, sleep deprivation fueled fearlessness. For weeks, months, she'd been unconsciously rehearsing this very moment in her mind: what she would do given the opportunity to snoop through her mother's belongings.

Countless shimmering vials of all sizes were tucked into the alcove walls' stone shelves, casting a glowing bluish light that lit Adelaide's path. A large basin, carved in ancient runes, sat at the center. A basin just like the one Dumbledore possessed in his office.

What kind of memories was her mother squirreling away? she wondered. But there was no use wasting her energy or time on those vials while Crazy Cathryn snoozed only a few stories above. She wasn't that stupid.

Her feet padded to a row of books tucked in dungeon-like wall. She thought, or rather hoped there'd be a shrunken portrait of Roesia being held captive in those shelves, or maybe the family tree book. or the dictionary... something.

Adelaide's hands wiped away the dust from the spines. That balloon of hope deflated. It was just a bunch of dodgy books.

She searched them, of course, in case any were secretly concealing anything more nefarious. Most described unfriendly, yet surprisingly legal, spells; others gave recipes for deadly potions and antidotes; one book was quite heavy and written entirely in ancient runes.

There was an Encyclopedia of dangerous magical plant-life, an anthology of quidditch players from the 1940s, and even a first edition copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that might have been worth a fortune if it hadn't been so weathered (Someone had written messily in the margins, adding in their own charmed pictures and comments such as, "Unicorn population low— habitat?" and beside a particular fierce Grindylow a giant "X" and the word "Rice").

However, there was nothing even resembling a family tree, kidnapped portrait, or Middle English dictionary.

After what felt like at least an hour (but was more like 20 minutes) Adelaide yawned and reached for one of the few books left untouched. It was large, brown, spine suspiciously blank, battered at the edges, as if it had been well used, and little scraps of parchment were jutting out of the pages. "Last one and I'm going to bed," she mumbled, hoisting it partially onto the empty pensive basin to keep from dropping it. "You better not be another bloody potions book..."

It was not. The spine crackled like popping joints as she flipped it open. Adelaide's fingers traced over Hogwarts Crest on the first page then down to the hand written inscription:

"Property of Cat Carrow"

Could this have been one of Cathryn's old school books? She flipped to the first page and almost fumbled the book onto the ground at what she saw.

It was her mother. There, standing at was clearly the Hogwarts Express platform, was her mother. Little, eleven year old Cathryn scowled, arms crossed, and every once and while she'd turn around and swat at the two older boys behind her when they'd pull her hair. Those must have been her brothers... but where was her twin sister, Patricia? Was she the one taking the photo?

The pages that followed were sparse. A few pressed wildflowers, sweets wrappers, random clippings from quidditch games. The only photos were out-of-focus and exclusively of unicorns grazing in their paddock on school grounds.

It was a scrapbook. Somehow it seemed odd that Cathryn would have kept a scrapbook. She wasn't exactly the sentimental type. Rummaging through her mother's old scrapbook wouldn't help her find her missing items, but there was something so... intriguing about seeing her mother's mummified mementos. About seeing her so normal... so human...