Squib Hypothesis

Sitting at the red oak study desk in her bedroom, Rowan finishes writing a letter of response to Tiffany. Rowan lets the ink dry and glances over to the other two written letters. It had been easy to respond to Silvia as it had been rather short and to the point. On the other hand, Bethanie's letter had been painstakingly detailed. Fair was fair, and so an equally long reply was written to Bethanie.

Reaching into a drawer, Rowan pulls out an elegant letter stamp with her initials carved onto it, R.P. Below the cursive letters is the Prince Family crest, a wyvern intertwined around a sharp dagger. Her eyes momentarily linger on the crest, before reaching for red enchanted sealing wax. Unlike muggle sealing wax, where one had to melt said wax, merely slicing off a small amount of the red bar and pressing it onto the envelope caused the same effect.

Certain that the ink had completely dried, Rowan neatly fold the letter and places it inside the already addressed envelope that held a delicate pair of earnings as a gift for Tiffany as requested. Taking a small letter opener, she slices a small dab of the sealing wax block. The wax melts perfectly as it was enchanted to do as she presses her personal stamp into the envelope effectively sealing it shut. Letting the wax cool, she tides up after herself, before finally sighing in relief.

Glancing out onto the green summer grounds, Rowan sighs to herself, "Hard to believe we're already more than halfway through summer. Time really does fly when you're having fun." Glancing over at the cooled wax, she grabs all three letters and heads downstairs to find Dawn.

To her great luck, Dawn is on her way to the parlor with a cart full of pastries for the current ongoing tea party. "Are they still here?" Rowan warily asked.

"Yes, young mistress. Lady Sirsa is still in the midst of hosting her annual summer tea party," Dawn happily answered. "Was there something you were needing from Dawn, little mistress?

"Would you be so kind as to send these off, once you're done with your present duties?" Rowan sincerely asked as she held out her three written letters.

Dawn's long fingers happily curl around the letters. "It would be my pleasure, young Miss. I'll send them right out, after this."

"Thank you," Rowan gratefully said, before turning away and heading off to seek sanctuary in grandfather's study.

Her grandmother had wanted her to attend the tea party as well, but Rowan had begged to be let off as she still needed to write a response. Her grandmother finally assented after learning exactly to whom it was that she was replying. Of course, it was merely postponing the inevitable, sooner or later, Rowan would become a patron of these social events.

Not even bothering to knock on the door, Rowan steps into the study to find the older and younger Prince with their heads huddled over a rare potions journal. There was an enchanted warded door in the corner of grandfather's study that she and Severus had not been allowed to enter. The door is heavily warded and locked against anyone entering except for grandfather and Dawn. Even grandmother and Aunt Georgine were not allowed to enter the premise. As for visitors, they would never be able to see the door as the door was enchanted to remain invisible from prying eyes.

According to Aunt Georgine, it was her grandfather's private laboratory. Apparently, it was their grandfather's lifelong dream to find the cure to the Dragon Pox disease. According to him, the present cure that existed only tended to work on those healthy and young. The current cure did nothing for those with already weak health or the elderly. And because a close friend of his had died in their youth and ever since then, grandfather had made it his lifelong dream to find a better cure for Dragon Pox.

"Pray tell, exactly what is so fascinating about that musty old book?" Rowan grumbled in tease as she shut the door behind her.

Severus reluctantly lifts his head to glare at her. "I will have you know this is a rare potions tome, that not even grandfather had come across before. It shows potions that I'm sure have already been forgotten and other existing potions brewed in entirely different manners. To any potions enthusiast, this is a treasure trove of knowledge. I wouldn't expect you to understand, Rowan since you only ever have got passing marks in Potions."

"True enough," Rowan muttered with a shrug as she walked over to the study library bookcase. The bookcase that expanded from wall to wall and floor to ceiling held an entire library's worth of books. The books were enchanted to be smaller and thinner in the bookcase, but once removed the volume would expand to their full size. Naturally, the restricted volumes were sitting at the very top of the bookshelf safely out of reach of curious hands.

Rowan reached for the volume she was presently reading, The Magical Existence of the Body and Soul by Zenith Eructis. And though it did indeed sound like a how-to, it was most certainly not. It was an old manuscript that sought to prove how different the body and soul of a wizard were from that of a muggle. Not necessarily pure-blood propaganda, but the writer did make some excellent points that made her wonder a bit how the writer had acquired said knowledge. But if she was perfectly honest with herself, she did not really want to know the answer to that question.

Seeing that his granddaughter had taken her usual seat, Reginald asks, "And how goes your research anything interesting?"

"The writer makes a most excellent point in his writing, but he tends to forget or purposefully exclude the fact that wizards and witches can crossbreed with muggles. And if so, there are only two explanations for such an occurrence," Rowan explained.

"The first is that we and muggles share at least one common ancestor that allows us to crossbreed. Or the second, that muggles and we are one and the same," Rowan solemnly declared. "And rather that we were the ones that somehow mutated and evolved quite differently to other humans. In which case, all arguments of pureblood supremacy are irrelevant as the concept of blood purity is a lie, but rather a deliberate attempt to distinguish ourselves from humans who lacked magic."

"And will either answer make a difference in your research?" Reginald astutely inquired.

"To some degree," Rowan frankly admitted. "The first hypothesis would imply that we were different species from the very start and that only an ancient ancestor or more recent crossbreeding allowed us to continue to interbreed. In which case, the proof is found in said product, squibs. This is shown by the magical ancestry that permits squibs to see/sense magic but be unable to wield it due to their muggle ancestry.

In this case, the hypothesis is in favor of pureblood supremacy. Thusly proving the same in reverse that the same is true for muggleborn wizards being the direct result of ancient or modern-day pureblood wizard ancestry."

Seeing his granddaughter pause for a breath, Reginald hides his amusement. "Yet I see that you remain unconvinced. Are you more inclined to believe your second hypothesis? Why is that?"

"The second hypothesis correlates directly with my research," Rowan admitted. "Humans in essence are all born the same, but for some reason or another magic chooses to accept/bind with our ancient ancestors. Naturally, the ability is passed down to their children. Yet in the case of squibs, they still can see/sense magic, unlike muggles. It is not a case of mistaken ancestry, but rather Squibs are a product of an undiagnosed illness."

Reginald's face startles at the ludicrous thought. It is positively preposterous! Yet it would explain the existence of a squib.

"Thus, proving that muggleborn wizards are not random products of magic, but rather the product of having wizarding ancestry be it latent or the squib line recovering its former magic. Therefore, signifying that muggleborn are in fact wizard-born and should instead be welcomed into wizarding society as the returning prodigal children that they are. Muggleborn should be allowed to claim or be accepted into the original ancestor bloodlines which would not only increase blood purity but rather bring back to life dying bloodlines and return back into existence bloodlines that were formerly extinct," Rowan breathlessly concluded.

Reginald is unable to hide a knowing smile at his granddaughter's enthusiasm. "Well, you certainly have that all figured out, don't you?" It would be much easier said than done. The very belief his granddaughter intended to challenge was a belief held for thousands of years.

Flushing with slight embarrassment, the tip of Rowan's ears turned pink. "I know it is unrealistic of me to think that everyone will accept the idea, grandfather."

"Still," Rowan firmly gazed at her grandfather, "If I am able to prove my hypothesis, it will offer the unique opportunity for the revival of countless bloodlines. This will also ensure that muggleborn are welcomed into society and in turn preserve the traditions of the past. In turn, this will ease the tensions between them and the purebloods."

"More importantly, if there is in fact an illness that creates squibs," Rowan grimly said, "It is important to all society to find a cure for squibs for them to recover their magic and to prevent the continued loss of magic."

"The cure for squibs would certainly be groundbreaking," Reginald tactfully pondered. "But at the same time, it would be a most dangerous endeavor as it would be seen as challenging blood purity."

"I am not challenging the idea," Rowan countered. "Rather, I am arguing the point that muggleborn wizards should not be seen as a threat nor as lesser because of their blood. I would be challenging blood purity if I argued that they marry muggles, which I am not. And I only to hint that the influx of new blood from the so-called muggleborn wizards would be in their best interests to accept to increase their bloodline."

Severus loudly sniffs and interrupts, "Theory is all good and all, but you're going to need a potions master to concoct the potion required to reverse said illness."

A slow smile appears on Rowan's face as she teasingly says, "And where would I be able to find such a potions master?"

Sniffing indignation, Severus responds, "I've already read and learned the potions up to year seventh. I am most certain that I can improve upon existing potions but even increase their efficiency. This not only proves my vast talent but showcases that I have an excellent chance of becoming the youngest Potions Master in several hundreds of years."

"Then is that an offer?" Rowan further teased.

"Take it or leave it!" Severus snapped.

"I would be most honored if Master Severus would aid me in my future endeavors," Rowan grinned.

Severus snorts as Reginald hides a smile at their antics. "On that note, grandfather, Severus really does seem to have a talent for potions. Would it not be an excellent idea to apprentice him to a potions master, early on?" Rowan idly remarked.

Severus perks up with pride as Reginald replies, "Not yet, Severus has yet to master the basics nor much less improve upon potions as he so boasted. Nor has his magic matured enough for him to stand the long hours required to brew the more difficult potions. And though he has learned potions up his seventh year, he has yet to actually brew all of them."

Severus wilts under his grandfather's words causing Reginald to pause. "But I will reconsider for your fourth year. If you have improved enough by the end of your 3rd year, I shall permit you during the summer, before the start of your 4th year to take the C.S.A.E., the Comprehension Student Apprenticeship Exam. And only upon passing the exam will I search for a Potions Master for you to apprentice to Severus. If not, we shall wait until after your 5th year to try again."

"Thank you, grandfather!" Severus appreciatively said with adoration in his eyes.

Reginald turns to Rowan and says, "The same can be said for you, Rowan. Should you be able to pass the C.S.A.E, I will search for a Spellcrafter for you to apprentice under. Those powerful enough to craft spells rarely ever take apprentices much less a student. However, be forewarned the exam is equivalent to taking the N.E.W.T.'s."

"That's not very fair," Rowan grumbled under her breath.

"No, it is not, but the exam does showcase whether you are as brilliant as you believe," Reginald said with a raised eyebrow. "I have no doubt you will fail portions of the exam, but you should exceed in the portions in which you have talent therein. And if the exam is completely failed, the chances of a master accepting either of you in the future are even less. Is that still an acceptable risk?"

Severus and Rowan exchange glances before nodding their heads in agreement. "Good, now then, shall we return to our previous endeavors?" Reginald rather pointedly commented. Taking their cues, they each returned to their tasks at hand and lost themselves in the wonders of research. For better or for worse, the three of them were more than a bit of a bookworm.