10

--Caddell Manor—5th, January 1934—

He was practically alone in the Manor. His mother had left earlier to the Malfoy manor, which he had declined in following her. Seraphina, of course, was in Hogwarts at the moment while his father was huddled away in his office. It'll take an earthquake to get him out of his office, so in his books, he was alone.

Right now, he was sitting in the middle of the Casting Chamber. That was what it was called. It was deep down below the manor, right beside the potions Chamber. It was a room where one could perform or practice spells.

He had a notebook in front of him because he was brainstorming, well, sort of. He had come to the conclusion that he needed to be strong if he wished to survive. Right now, he was in the era of Grindelwald, which was a mystery to him. For all he knew, it was Grindelwald that destroyed his family, and if he was going to be in school with Tom Riddle, he should at least know how to protect himself and not just walk around barely knowing any spells.

He needed to be powerful- he'll be a powerful inventor! In fact, by the time Dumbledore defeats Grindelwald, he will be around 18 or 19, maybe… something for another day.

Tom was said to be an exceptional student- he was powerful even just at Hogwarts. He was the leader of his own group, and there was no doubt an Emrys didn't wish to be one of those being tortured. Therefore his power should at least match his. Tom had used his magic against his fellow orphans, which only meant he had some sort of control over his magic, or maybe it was just his accidental magic, and Tom just couldn't contain his anger…

It was made to seem as though children under 11 couldn't control their magic, which Emrys sort of understood, seeing as they were children who were still controlling their emotions, learning good and bad, understanding how the world works. So, therefore, it seemed appropriate to gain their wand at 11 as they headed to Hogwarts to learn.

Though, it made sense to him that he should be able to use magic, sure, even without a wand. A wand was just used for accuracy. Even if he would be accurate, he should be able to at least use his magic. The more he practised, the more magic would grow. The harder it pushed, the stronger it became, and the faster he'll be able to control it.

Thankfully he already knew Occulumency, but it didn't mean he would stop practising. It wouldn't hurt to strengthen his mental walls. There were many powerful people out there. Whether they were known or not, he didn't need someone probing through his mind.

He needed to train, train his mind, body and magic. Work on reflexes and speed, which is important for a wizard. He needed to write a schedule, which he would do after meditating.

--Caddell Manor—6th, Janurary 1934—

Seraphina found herself walking past one of the storage rooms, where many things were stored, only to find her mother, Ophelia, frantically looking for something. How wonderful… Whenever her mother seemed to 'panic', she disregarded the house-elves entirely wanting to do things herself. It was ridiculous.

Seraphina was home once again for the Easter break. She'll be heading back to Hogwarts tomorrow, or maybe the day after it. She didn't need to be back until the 8th. She couldn't wait to go back. She was finding herself bored in the Manor. Owling, her friends, wasn't the same as seeing them in person. Soon enough, it would be her final year, and she wouldn't be able to have as much freedom, seeing as she would be bonded to a marriage.

"What are you looking for, mother?" Seraphina asked from the opened doorway. They were currently on the first floor of the Manor. Seraphina had been heading towards the duelling hall they had in the lower regions of the Manor to practice a few spells for her exams.

"I'm looking for my tablecloth!" Ophelia shouted, was there someone coming that mother wanted to use her fancy, expensive table cloth? Seraphina didn't even see the point in it. Who could actually even tell hose expensive a 'table cloth' of all things is.

"Did you try Accio?" Seraphina asked only to receive a glare from her mother… then she did try it. "It's the blue one", her mother continued.

Ah… no wonder she couldn't find it.

Seraphina cleared her throat, knowing the answer to that, "Well, Emrys may or may not have burned a massive hole in it." Funny enough, it wasn't even from accidental magic. Ophelia froze, "Emrys? Emrys Caddell?!"

Seraphina rocked back and forth on her heel, watching her mother in amusement, "The one and only", Seraphina answered with a smile. "Accidental magic?" Ophelia asked.

"Not exactly…" Seraphina answered. "Then how in Merlin's name did he- you know what, I don't care to know," Ophelia spoke as he stormed out of the room, having Seraphina walk out after her. "Where are you going, mother?"

"Well, it appears that I'm going to buy a new tablecloth because someone decided to burn a hole in the last one," Ophelia replied.

"…Mother, we do have other tablecloths, you know, and I'm sure Tilly will be quite delighted to have her get one for you instead of you going yourself."

"I need to get it myself. Your grandmother will be here in one hour, and I need everything to be perfect. You know how she is, don't you?" Ophelia asked.

Ah, that explained it then… Grandmother Tetra was coming. Maybe Seraphina should leave before she comes. Perhaps a trip to the Prince Manor will do. Her mother was off after seeing her daughter nod. Seraphina turned around to see Emrys walking up. "What was that about?" Emrys asked his sister.

"Remember the table cloth you accidentally burnt a hole in?" Seraphina started. Emrys gave her a look, "…Table cloth? Oh yeah! I still blame Winster for that, to be honest," Emrys spoke, shrugging his shoulders.

"Emrys! You were the one holding a match stick. Why did you even light it?! Where did you even get it, actually?"

He was testing a theory. He didn't just grab the cloth and a match with the sole intent of burning a hole in it. He didn't actually think it would work trying to control the flame. He didn't want it to burn it, but instead, his magic had the flame rise, which he didn't calculate for.

Emrys rolled his eyes. There were plenty of more tablecloths! Why was this such a big problem now?! that happened months ago. Were they on some sort of fixed tablecloth quota?

"And why are you in your quidditch gear?" Seraphina questioned her brother, looking at the clothing he was wearing. He even had his broom in hand. She was sure her brother would marry it if he could. "I'm going to the Potter Manor. Charlus got the new broom, too, the 'Oakshaft 79'. We're going to test them out together and see their limits. You know what? I'll bring my old one too for comparison."

"I'll be stumped with studies later, so I want to have a little fun before then." Emrys continued. Emrys had promised Charlus he would come over today since he apparently doesn't spend much time with him. Well, after this visit, he wasn't sure when next he would see Charlus as he would be busier than usual, with him practising to control his magic. He wanted to progress fast, so he could spend more time strengthening his use of it. So he'll be busy exercising, such as running laps around in the yard, reading books in the library which wouldn't make much of a difference in his schedule. Then, of course, he'll be spending much more time in the Casting Camber, meditating and trying to gain access and understand his magic.

'A WITCH OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN?' written by Ursula Abbott.

01/01/34

The rumours are true! Jocunda Sykes, a young witch, has flown across the Atlantic Ocean. The first witch to do so! She had been telling people of her plans to do so while the wizarding world laughed and mocked her. She didn't let that tear her down and proved all wrong! She flew across it with the famous 'Oakshaft 79', maybe even more prominent now with her accomplishment.'

--Caddell Manor—15th, April 1934--

It had taken him, through the month he had started, which was January, until this month, April, to have been able to confidently say he was satisfied with his ability to windlessly levitate something- sure, it was a small feat, but to him, it meant his hard work was paying off.

He had thought it would be the easiest thing to start off with, so after weeks of meditating, the floors of the Casting Chamber were filled with a bunch of random things, from a fork to a pillow.

It was helpful that he was able to practice his Occulumency with his tutor. They were intense sessions that usually had him exhausted. Edmund was brilliant at probing at his mental walls. At one point, they began to crumble, and he had let him see a memory. Thankfully, it wasn't anything terrible from his past life. He couldn't even remember what it was.

Now at the moment, he was working on learning to use the 'Alohomora Charm', which was to unlock things, a helpful spell to know, and of course, the 'Colloportus Charm'. It made sense to learnt them together as one opens something, and the other closes something. The concept of them both would be similar, so if he were to learn one, he would be easier able to learn the other.

--St Mungo's Hospital, London—5th, January 1935--

The Hospital was more depressing than Emrys had thought it would be. He hadn't actually been in a hospital before unless you would count the day he was born both in this world and the last. He was never a person to get sick enough to need it, nor had he broken anything that couldn't be fixed with some rest and care. The ward he was in was a beacon of misery. Some of the patients were in critical condition. They were sobbing in agony.

Since the day Zion had woken from the coma, which only lasted a few months, he was in pain, feeling too weak to eat more. He refused any visits from people who weren't his father and brother. Emrys knew it was because of his pride. He wouldn't want anyone to see him in such a weak state, barely able to do anything at all.

His father had been reluctant in letting him go, but in the end, he just let him. It wasn't just his father but his mother too who hadn't wanted him to go. They were worried it was obvious, more protective.

Though, now. Emrys and Charlus were stood in Zion's room, the boy yet to notice them as they stood awkwardly staring at his frail figure. Apparently, he's been feeling better with a new treatment they were trying.

His eyes were open. They weren't focused on anything in particular but would occasionally move randomly.

Charlus cleared his throat loudly, trying to get Zion's attention which it did. He said nothing as he laid eyes on them. "Um, afternoon, cousin." Charlus ended the silence.

Zion gave a halfhearted smile, "Afternoon", he whispered back. "Looking good?" Charlus spoke. Emrys felt like wacking the boy in the head, really? 'looking good.' Zion snorted, "Yeah… looking for damaged goods, I guess", he responded.

"You're not damaged goods!" Emrys refuted. Zion rolled his eyes, "Right, I'm dying goods", he responded, having Charlus's eyes wide, "Dying?" Charlus asked the same thing Emrys was thinking. "Did they not tell you?" Zion asked. Zion spoke again when they both shook their heads, "Well, I'm dying… surprise."

"Surprise! What do you mean surprise! Why are you being so nonchalant about this" Emrys blurted out.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it. What are you guys even doing here? I didn't think you'd visit," Zion spoke again. Emrys didn't fault Zion for being surprised at their appearance, seeing as they weren't precisely each other's favourite cousin. Zion was what you could call the 'bully cousin'.

"We came to visit our cousin", Charlus spoke as he took steps forward, "If you don't want to talk about all this that's happened, we don't have to." Charlus continued.

"Right, we just came to see you because we're family", Emrys spoke.

"Here, I brought you a book to read. It's a muggle book," Charlus spoke as he handed the dark covered book to his cousin.

"…A… muggle book?" Zion tested the words in his mouth. Charlus rolled his eyes as he shoved into Zion's grip, "Don't be like that! Muggle books are better than wizarding books! You know it, and everyone knows it." Charlus raised his voice to get his point across.

"It's called 'A Question in Reality'. I think it's fascinating. I finished reading it last week and thought you could have something to pass the time. It's a fictional book, of course. There was this war the main character survived- he was a general in the war, but at the end of it, he was shot but survived. The bullet was lodged in his skull, and there was no way to safely remove it. During the story, he begins to go insane due to the bullet.

As the insanity sets in, reality as he knows it begins to distort, and in this distortion, he discovers some government plot and must come to terms with what he has discovered. The story is a race against time before his grasp on reality slips completely, leaving him unsure of what's real and what isn't." Charlus finished explaining the book.

Zion stared at the cover silently, turning and flipping the novel, "Well?" Charlus prompted.

Zion turned his gaze to Charlus, "Didn't you just tell me the whole plot... Is there really a point in me reading it now? And shot? Shot with what? What's a bullet."

Charlus sat on the side of his bed happily, ready to explain it to him. The three of them talked and talked for what seemed like hours, and it was finally time for them to go, with Lord Potter there to collect them. Lord Potter had some words with Zion. It was a pleasant conversation, and then finally, Charlus walked out with his father while Zion held Emrys back.

"Here," Zion said. Emrys stared at the book that was covered in leather. He took it, "What is it?" Emrys asked as he ran his hand over the leathered cover. Zion sighed, "My journal, I'll like you to have it. I have no need for it anymore."

"Like a diary? Why don't you need it anymore? are the pages finished?" Emrys asked, "It's not a diary, a journal. No, the pages can never finish. I guess it's a magical journal, so the pages are never-ending. I started it when I began Hogwarts. Maybe you can continue it, beginning your own chapter of Hogwarts." Zion spoke.

Emrys walked out as a new person walked in, Thomas Nott, wasn't it?

Emrys had taken the 'Journal' thankfully. He wasn't sure why Zion decided to give it to him, but he did. He felt guilty. He should have known from the look and smile that Zion had given him on his way out what he was planning on doing.

The fifth day of January 1935 was the day Zion Richen Caddell died. They said the cause of death was his condition… but Emrys knew better than that… Zion killed himself. Emrys saw the pain in those eyes, the words racking in his brain, 'I have no need for it anymore.'

'ZION RICHEN CADDELL , 23rd, APRIL 1918 - 5th, JANURARY 1935'

--Caddell Manor, Emrys' Bedroom--8th, January 1935—

After three days of receiving the journal, he was finally opening it. He was curious, and thus the reading began.

He never imagined Zion would die so soon. He was young, not even getting to fully experience Hogwarts to the end. He knew how much Zion had wanted to explore the world, which Zion had made Emrys' promise not to tell anyone. It was hardly an idea his father would commend. It was expected of him to work in the Ministry.

He was hoping Zion was now in peace, maybe even got reincarnated as Emrys himself did. Zion had his problems, just as anyone else did. It usually resulted in him being rude to Emrys, maybe even ignoring him, or casting those annoying hexes at him, but at the end of it, he knew Zion was sorry, but it just annoyed him that the boy had never said the words but now? he finally did, and it hurt it was just because he knew he would not see the next day.

'Sunday, 1st September 1929

Entry Number: 1

Location: Hogwarts Train

Time: 11:45am

To whom this may concern,

I welcome you to the start of my journal- not diary as Thomas had called it. I never thought I'd be one to write a journal. It seems like too much work to remember to write in it. My older brother Kester had suggested it, a way to document my life, Zion Richen Caddell, scion of the House of Caddell. I thought it was a fantastic idea to start this, so one day, maybe someone will be reading this in the future, perhaps that's you at the moment.

Let me introduce myself to you. I am Zion, Zion Richen Caddell, son of Baratheon Kester Caddell, younger brother to Kester Baratheon Caddell. If you would like to know more about me, there's nothing I can really say. I feel like anything I'll have to say will be biased, seeing as my brother calls me a narcissist, which I don't think I am. My best friend, Thomas, calls me a selfish prick- which I'm starting to think I am, but is that really a bad thing?

I'm nothing special, even my name. I can't say I'm a fan of the name, Richen, but it does sound cool. My father thought of it randomly, liking its sound, while my middle name is my maternal grandfather's name. Richen Crabbe was his name, but he's dead now. My brother is eight years older than me, so he was able to know the man, and Kester had said, 'He's a vexatious git.'

I decided to start documenting on this day, the 1st of September, the day I will be going to Hogwarts. I am currently on the train in a carriage with my best friend Thomas Nott, my friends Amycus Carrow and Falco Lestrange.'

--Hogwarts Train--1st, September 1929--

"Are you going to keep writing in your diary or actually contribute to a proper conversation" a drawl sounded through the carriage.

"Oh, shut it, Nott! Some type of 'proper' conversation, that is. I hardly care what you bought with 'daddy's' money", Falco Lestrange snapped. Nott rolled his eyes, "Really, Falco, acting like you didn't just beg your father for the newest broom last week?" Thomas replied with a slight smirk.

Falco's face flushed, "Whatever everyone here uses their parents' money, so let's leave it at that- what even are you doing with that diary, Caddell?"

"It's not a diary, Falco!" Zion snapped. "Alright. Well, what do you do in it?" Amycus asked curiously.

"I'm documenting my life", Zion responded hastily.

The three boys, Thomas, Falco and Amycus, glanced at each other with raised brows before turning to Zion. "That's a diary", they all spoke in unison.

"It's not! Stop ganging up on me! Thomas, you're supposed to be my best mate!" Zion cried out, shoving the JOURNAL into his robes. Thomas rolled his eyes as he stopped himself from laughing, "Alright guys, you heard the boy…. It's not a diary- um, Zion? What is it then?"

"It's a-" before Zion could finish his sentence, the door to their carriage was slid open, revealing a boy that seemed to be around their age. His hair was a mess of dark curls, and he had dark brown eyes to match. The boy stood awkwardly at the doorway, looking at each of them. The boy was in muggle clothes, which was understandable, seeing as they had to go through muggle London to get to the platform.

All four of them were in muggle clothing as well, which Thomas had earlier complained was too 'tight'.

"Hello?" the boy said sheepishly, "I'm sorry, but would you mind if I stay here if there's space?" the unknown boy continued.

There was space, but… they weren't sure who he was yet. "Really? Hello? Would you not introduce yourself before acting like an unmannered swine?" Falco Lestrange snapped at the stranger, who was taken aback.

"Oh- I'm sorry, I didn't think. I'm Adam Wills-"

Wills?

"So a mudblood then? Sorry, but unfortunately, there isn't space. Seeing as we have another friend who will be joining us, they just happened to leave for the toilet." Amycus Spoke.

"Ah, okay. Sorry for bothering you… what's a 'mudblood'?" the muggle-born boy asked.

"Look, we'll like to have our door closed. Once we land in Hogwarts, I'm sure you'll find out," Zion responded, and with that, the boy awkwardly closed the door. "So whose the friends that's gone to the loo?" Thomas asked as the door finally closed.

"Are you having a laugh?" Falco asked.

"…He isn't- Thomas, that was a lie." Zion told him, and realisation dawned on Thomas Nott, "Ah…."