Naming Ceremony Ⅴ

Feeling that she still had more questions than answers again, Rowan takes a risk. "One more question, sir, if you would care to answer, but did you know a Fogey Artemio?"

"Yes, I did," Shafiq said with a trace of sadness in his eyes. "He was my wife's cousin, sadly, he passed away from an unfortunate circumstance only a few days after his graduating from Hogwarts."

Once again, Rowan lips pressed into thin lines of vexation. Shafiq had the means and access to said character but lacked a motive. However, without any proof she could not discard any culprit. And more importantly she might have just openly outed herself and gained nothing in return.

"Thank you, sir, that would be all," Rowan said with a fake smile, before turning to leave, but a question halts her in her tracks.

"And why exactly Miss Prince are you asking about Prefect Riddle?" Shafiq sharply inquired. "I am not a fool, Miss Prince, and such an individual should not be related to you in any manner. He is a member of your mother's generation, and I am aware that you were raised in the muggle world in your formative years. As such, there would have not been any sort of unexpected meeting between both parties. And the fact that dear Riddle has been missing for some years now. So, the better question is why the sudden interest in Riddle, Miss Prince?"

Answering with something of the truth, Rowan turns around and says, "In the Hogwarts library, I found a partial notebook written by a boy named Fogey Artemio. Within the contents of the journal the Ravenclaw wrote about a Myrtle Warren, and how he suspected that her death was related to Riddle. There were dates and times, and strange coded words, but only partial of the notebook was there. The other half had been torn away."

Rowan paused and slowly says, "I have no proof, but I suspect that Myrtle Warren was killed by Riddle, and that Fogey Artemio learned of the murder somehow. And as a direct result, I believe that Fogey Artemio too was murdered especially upon taking into considering the strange and bizarre circumstances of his death."

Shafiq's eyes widen and then narrow in suspicion. It seemed to coincidental, but he had always suspected that the death of his wife's cousin had been no accident. He still fondly remembered the bright eyed, but nosey young Ravenclaw. His wife had been devasted by the news of her cousin's death, and as had he.

However, Shafiq did not dare hope that was the truth. But if that indeed the truth, there must be some sort of clues left behind that had been previously missed. Perhaps, it was time to visit the parents of Fogey, who still lived. There might yet be a clue found, and knowledge previously unknown be discovered.

"Good evening, sir," Rowan finally said at seeing Kain Shafiq not move nor respond. Shafiq does not answer lost in deep thought, and she returns to the women's parlor room to think.

The conversation between the two of them had been rather enlightening to some degree. Rowan was almost convinced that Shafiq was truly innocent, but she did not trust him. He far too easily took apart her argument and found hidden openings in her defense. She had been much to condiment in herself to an absurd degree that it was almost abnormal! How could be so foolish?! Did she have a death wish!

With a vexed sigh, Rowan bites her lip in frustration and anger. If she was utterly wrong, she had already all but covered herself in sauce, and served herself on a silver platter. She could only hope that her instincts had not been wrong, and that she had not just severely taken a misstep. But what truly worried her was just how out of character her actions even seemed to her.

Rowan's mind instantly recalls Riddle and frowns as she considers his final mind set. Was it possible that her mind and soul were slowly being poisoned without her awareness? But she meditated each evening and checked her inner mindscape, and everything was as it should be. Unless, her own mind was hiding the growing poison from her, in which case, could she even afford to trust herself?

With that perturbing thought in mind, Rowan returned to the women's parlor and remained entirely silent the entire time. She took a seat next to Aunt Georgine and remained unusually silent for the rest of the evening lost in deep, but disturbing trains of thought.

Mrs. Avery did not detect that anything that was wrong with her guest, but Georgine kept shooting her great-niece glances full of concern. She was more than a tad bit concerned at the girl's unnatural state, but she could only wait until their visit was over to ask. Though knowing her great-niece, the girl would not speak a word on the subject. The Prince's had a terrible trait of keeping everything to their chest until the circumstances grew direr. It was a terrible emotional trait to have, but one that had often saved their lives in plain battle.

Finally, Georgine glances at the hour and says, "It is late, Mrs. Avery, and brother and I must see the children home."

"Of course," Mrs. Avery promptly answered as she rose to her feet to escort the two female Prince's.

Rising to their feet, Rowan temporarily was pulled out of her stupor as she automatically curtsies to the hostess. "Thank you for tor the invitation, Mrs. Avery as a member of the Prince family I was greatly honored to witness such a private moment," Rowan respectfully declared.

"No, it was the Avery family's pleasure to have the entire Prince family present to witness such a glorious event," Mrs. Avery politely replied, before glancing at Georgine Prince.

Tilting her head in a small nod towards the new godmother of her grandson, Mrs. Avery adds, "And thank you for accepting the position of Godmother to my grandson, Madam Prince. The Avery family is most grateful to you for accepting the duties and responsibilities that are associated with the position."

"It is an honor for the Prince family to serve," Georgine crisply replied, before the hostess, Mrs. Avery nods her head in understanding, and leads the Prince females out into the hall.

They did not even have to wait as the Avery family house elves had already alerted the Master as Mr. Avery lead the male Prince's to the main hall. Both parties reunited once again, Evan Avery says, "The Avery family thanks the Prince family for joining us this evening, and honor the Godmother of my son, Barnabas Avery."

Bowing one last time, Evan steps back as Reginald Prince coolly tilts his head in thanks, before departing with his family into the dark night, before apparating off the grounds. As the Avery's watch the Prince family disappear Mrs. Avery mutters under her breath, "The Prince's are still as cold and distant as I remember."

"Of course, dear," Mr. Avery grumbled. "They have every reason to be proud and aloof. Their bloodlines have more than ensured that."

"Indeed," Mrs. Avery said, before turning to her son and fondly saying, "You did well, Evan. Now let us go rest now."

"Yes, mother," Evan muttered with a tired smile full of relief. He was not only emotionally exhausted but magically as well. Conducting the binding of his son's godparents cost a great deal of magic, but he was a widower. Therefore, the price for the cost of such a binding was twice as much for him alone.

There was extraordinarily little doubt in his mind that he would scarcely have the energy to light a candle tomorrow much less cast a simple cleaning spell. But there were house elves for a reason, and Solia would take care of his son's needs. And even he had to admit that at times like these he found himself profoundly grateful to his childhood nanny house elf, Solia. She was a blessing in disguise.