In the Shadow of Secrets | Sebastian Sallow

A Death in the Family

CW: Mention of original character death and descriptions of illness

1 October 1893

The French had done extensive research on Ancient Magic over the past centuries. Mainland Europe as a whole had had three instances of "late-blooming" magical abilities in the past two hundred years, which compared to every other magical government's records, was terribly uncommon. While impressive, I had been very disappointed to learn that the last such individual on record–a French witch by the name of Aurelie Perrot–and her mentor had met an untimely end in 1867 when she drowned in the Loire River in a mysterious incident involving a Melusine at the ages of 27 and 42, respectively.

It was all more information than we needed, if not nourishment for a hungry mind. Valeria's interest in it was mostly centred upon how the French Ministry had consistently employed them. The French regarded "Les Gardiens" as rare yet powerful weapons, and they had documented ways to focus their magic and even use it in conjunction with others' magical abilities to accomplish tasks that protected entire villages from destruction–Multis Viribus.

Headmistress Weasley had listened intently as Valeria and I explained what this meant. It might take a few attempts and all of us who were aware of the repository's existence, but moving it safely could be possible. I was immensely relieved and we made a plan to test our limits over the next few weeks before making the attempt to move it during the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch matchup on the fifth of November.

Before I could do my first trials, however, a very agitated Kipsy arrived at my desk, and I knew I had to go home before she ever opened her mouth.

I stood outside my grandfather's bedroom, not knowing what to expect. I had never met him here, just as he had never approached my own room for conversation. I raised my hand, clenching the fingers gently into a fist before knocking tentatively. Rather than a mumbled greeting, the door swung open silently and I walked in.

The room was dim, but my eyes settled on his neatly-made bed first. Light streamed in from a partially open curtain, and I followed its source to find him sitting in a chair looking outside. Faustus Lestrange, as thin and gaunt as ever, was up and dressed despite the weaknesses he'd endured since the summer. The sunlight seemed to cast an almost golden glow on his skin.

"Thank you for making haste," he said quietly, eyes still searching outside for something I couldn't see. His voice was less clear than usual, and full of a hoarseness I had never heard.

"Of course, Grandfather," I replied, stomach in knots. Whatever news he had to share may not be about him, but I doubted it was good. He never sent Kipsy if it was something he could send via owl or raven.

He coughed, covering his mouth with a handkerchief before muttering, "I'm sure you've deduced I have something important to share."

The knot in my stomach tightened. "Yes, sir."

His grey eyes met mine, and he gestured for me to sit, which I did–albeit nervously. When he didn't speak, my fingernails found a loose piece of skin, toying with it as I waited.

"I am sorry to call you here on such short notice, but it is customary under the circumstances. I received word this morning from the House of Gaunt," he explained softly.

My heart picked up its pace. What the hell could they possibly want?

"As they are of blood relation to you, they were obligated to inform us quickly, and I did not wish for you to hear about it from the Prophet," Faustus thought aloud, which certainly didn't help my anxiety.

Were they going to insist on some sort of betrothal? Was there some other Gaunt relative I would be tied to for the rest of my life? Were they going to kill me? It could be any number of things, really...