6

--Trésorerie, Paris, France--16th February 1931—

Her hand trailed against the inked parchment in awe… she had a whole family out there. After saving for months to pay for an inheritance test, she was finally able to save enough, to pay the extra to see titles.

'Name'

Astrid Lenora Masters

Date of birth- 25th June 1913- 17 years old.

'Status'

Pureblood

'Parents'

Atticus Cyrus Caddell (Pureblood) & Lenora Noel Masters (Pureblood)

'Siblings'

Theodorus Atticus Caddell (pureblood), through father- deceased.

Seraphina Ophelia Caddell (pureblood), through father.

Nicholas Atticus Masters (pureblood), through mother- deceased.

Emrys Cyrus Caddell (pureblood), through father.

'Titles'

Heiress claimant to the Noble House of Masters (inherited through Lenora Noel Masters)

She was glad she had enough to make a trip to England. She looked up from the parchment, staring at the goblin in the room with her. He looked rather bored; he couldn't blame him. She had been standing there for too long, staring at the words. "Do I have a trust fund? Or do I have access to the Master's Vaults? Am I able to check all the vaults I have access to?"

"You are an of age witch, with claim to the House of Masters. You can lay claim to the Ladyship to become Lady Masters, advancing from Heiress Masters. This will give you access to all the vaults the Noble House of Master's has. I will contact your account manager for you. This is now his jurisdiction."

She nodded her head. This was it! She can finally leave the orphanage knowing she has money in vaults. She smiled; happily, she wondered if her father would be happy to see her.

--Ember Bowl, Manchester, England--23rd, February 1931—

The match had been excellent, with all the different spells being thrown around. Armour wasn't a thing in duelling, nor was it allowed. There were some rules that Emrys was aware of, such as how walking on walls, ceilings or even flying wasn't permitted. Eventually, the match did end with Kalson Shafiq as the victor, now moving to the next round, which would be taken place in a few weeks. He stopped at the door as they were leaving, hearing the loud noise. It was another duel… the under 20 division.

When he dragged his parents into the duelling hall, he didn't expect to see Fleamont… what on earth was he doing? Since when did he duel? His father was just as confused but sat down, nonetheless. "How old is Monty, father?" he asked. "He's 19. He'll be 20 soon."

"…Then is this his job? I thought he was aiming to become a poitoneer?" Emrys found himself asking. "He is. I'm not sure what this is," His father answered him. Emrys watched as the opponent Fleamont Potter was fighting threw his green tunic off to the side, "Why is he fighting without a shirt?" Ophelia asked, aghast.

"That is a good question, one I don't have the answer for," Atticus answered.

"Stance!"

They watched as the Potter heir got into a fighting stance, the opponent following along and the duel.

"Ready!" Their wands were pointed out.

"Commence!" and the duel began.

To his surprise, Fleamont was actually rather good from what he saw, "Is it too late to bet on Fleamont?" Emrys whispered to his side. "Emrys!" his mother scolded.

"Hey! Longnose, ready to lose?" Fleamont taunted, "Lose, me? I'm about to mop the floor with you!" the other man returned. It was apparent the two were friends with the tone of their voices. "Try it!" Fleamont yelled.

Emrys leaned forward as he watched, was Fleamont holding back? That was smart. He was practically making the other man do all the work, wasting his energy on unnecessary powerful spells that used his strength. It was Fleamont's turn to show off. Going for the win, he took the other man down.

Fleamont helped the man up, "Nice going, Longbottom." Longbottom?! That was a Longbottom, then that was a relative of Neville then? The match was over. Emrys wished he had known his cousin was there sooner so he would have seen the start of the duel.

Spotting the Caddell's, Fleamont smiled nervously as he walked over to them. "Cousin, Lady Caddell- Emmy, how's it going? Haven't seen you in ages!"

"Do tell Heir Potter, since when had you started duelling, does your mother know?" Emrys' father asked. Emrys watched as Fleamont rolled his eyes at the use of his title. They were cousins! It wasn't like they were strangers. Why did Atticus always feel the need to be formal?

"Well, not exactly. I think mother would freak out. Father will probably have a laugh about it. You're not planning on telling, are you?" Fleamont narrowed his eyes at his cousin, Atticus.

Before Atticus could respond, Ophelia interrupted, "Duelling is very dangerous, Fleamont. Why are you even here? I thought you became an apprentice in poitoneering?"

Emrys sighed as he strolled off, walking over to the railings that separated the seating area from the duelling area. He walked alongside the barriers glancing around before stopping at an unfamiliar voice. "It looks great, doesn't it."

He turned his head to see a young girl, maybe 16 years old? Her brown curly hair fell to her shoulders, her green eyes stared at him. "Yeah, I guess", he responded, looking back to where his cousin had duelled, "I always thought of duelling. Maybe I will when I finish at Beauxbaton. I'm Astrid, by the way."

He looked at her, "I'm Emrys. You go to Beauxbaton? What house are you?" he asked the girl. How curious, why was she in England and not France if she's in Beauxbaton, the school year still attending. Of course, he knew of the school. He wishes he could see it in person. He heard how beautiful the castle was.

Though having not seen it, he still preferred the mysterious feel of an old castle, Hogwarts.

There was a twitch to her lips, "Ombrelune." Interesting, the counterpart of Slytherin, the house of the cunning. The house student was often called manipulative.

"So, like Slytherin-"

"Emrys", his father's commanding voice sounded from behind him. He looked at the man's solemn expression and knew to listen to whatever he was to tell him, "Go to your mother" with that said, Emrys did just that. Why was his father acting that way? Did he know the girl?

Who are you, Astrid?

--

He was right there! Her father standing right before her. It was her first time meeting him. She had to look up at him; he was tall. He had short dark hair neatly curled back and his eyes- his eyes were green like hers! She had the Caddell's eyes. "I'm Astrid. Astrid Masters," she introduced herself before Atticus could get a word out.

"I don't know if you know ab-" Astrid began.

"I know", he snapped, stopping her from continuing. She shifted awkwardly at his tone, "Then you know that-" she started again.

"Are you daughter of Lenora Masters" Atticus sneered. She decided to ignore that. "I'm your daughter," she said softly.

"No," was his simple answer, "I don't claim you, Astrid. That is why you have the name Masters. Seraphina is my daughter but you? Astrid, you're one of my biggest mistakes."

What?

Her mouth went dry as she stared in shock. Had he just said what that? "But-" she tried to speak.

"There are no buts. Why are you in England?" he hissed out, looking to the side, glancing over at Ophelia and Emrys, who was waiting for him. "I- I came to look for you," she said, her voice broken. Atticus looked back at her with disinterest in his eyes. "Why?"

"I'm alone- my mother is dead," Astrid spoke.

"I know," Atticus responded. Her eyes widened at his response, "You knew? You knew?! Then did you know she died a painful death? Did you know your son had the same fate?! My mother and Nicholas are dead! You act like you could care more if you didn't get a new tailor robe!" She hissed with hatred in her eyes.

Atticus was silent, "They're better off dead."

Her heart sank, "Then do you truly not care for me? I've lived in an orphanage all these years, hoping that you would be outside waiting for me one day- to take me home! I'm your daughter. I'm family! Why, why can't you-"

"What could you possibly want from me, child! I already told you, you're not my daughter, just as Nicholas was not my son. You're just simply a piece on a chessboard your mother tried to use to trap me. I never wanted you, Astrid, nor will I ever need you. I already have a family, my wife Ophelia, my daughter and a son." Silence fell through.

Atticus took one last look at her, not once caring for the tears that streamed down her face. "I want you to stay away from my family. You will regret it if you don't."

He took a step back, "Go back to France, Astrid", was the last thing he said before walking off.

She turned away from where he was standing, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears. She was a mistake- she saw red, only red.

She was a mistake- a smudge on the house of Caddell. She turned her head to see a smile on Lady Caddell's face as her father had said something to her. He told his mother and brother were better off dead. Maybe she was supposed to be dead with them. After all, they were a threat, weren't they?

Had he been the one to have them killed? Hate filled her heart just as a promise did.

--Hogwarts Castle, Scottish Highlands--29th, February 1931—

"Writing to your father again?" Seraphina asked, glancing up from her book. She watched her friend, Azalia shake her head, "No, it's for my Aunt in America." Azalia responded as she continued writing with her quill, the sound filling the air.

Seraphine closed her book shut, the slamming of pages startled Azalia, who looked up again, raising a brow. Now that caught her attention, her aunt in America?

"What?" Azalia asked.

"…It's just that you said you had no more relatives in America? Another reason you came back to England." Seraphina spoke. Azalia tense and her nerves took over. "-What? Did I say aunt in America? You're right. I don't have relatives in America. This is… um for my Father."

She was utterly flustered with how she pulled the unfinished letter closer to her chest, looking warily at her friend. "Why do you keep lying, Aza?" Seraphina questioned, nearing the girl who sank back in the chair she was sitting in, looking up at Seraphina as she was asked.

"I don't!" Seraphina's friend said defensively. Seraphina asked another question with narrowed eyes as her arms crossed, "Is Lord Carrow even your father?"

"Of course he is!" Azalia snapped, the truth behind her words. "I don't need this- if you don't want to trust me, then so be it, but I won't sit here while interrogating me!" Azalia stormed out of their dorm room, which they shared with two other girls who weren't present.

Seraphina didn't call for her to come back, no. Instead, she sat down in the same chair Azalia had been seated in after grabbing the letter that slipped from Azalia's grasp as she left in a fit of rage.

'Dear Aunt Nelly,

It's me, Ella. I know it's been a while, but I had wanted to send you a letter to tell you everything for the longest time! But you've met him… my father, that is. He doesn't like the idea of me having contact with you- he wants me to leave my life back in America there, but America is and always be my home.

Just as I will and always be Ella Wilson to you all.

Honestly, I have been putting off contacting you on purpose for a while. Mostly because I was ashamed for listening to my father.'

That's where it ended. At the bottom, there was a trail of ink which was obviously an accident.

She looked away from the parchment in thought. Ella Wilson? Well, that's interesting. Wilson was undoubtedly not a pureblood name she was aware America had. She ould have to confront Azalia later on if she didn't avoid her, that is. She decided she would just read her brother's letter, which she had received earlier.

'Dear Sera,

It's been a while, hasn't it? You were home for the holidays only two months ago, and now you are back at Hogwarts. How is everything? I know there's a lot more studying, I know Zion would hate it, but he's in second year for now. Is third year a problematic transition from second year?

Everything here is fine, really, but just dull. Incredibly dull, so much so that I've been taking naps just to pass the hours to get to the next day. I've been spending a lot more time in the library too. By the end of the year, I feel like I will have read all the books in the ancestral library. There are a lot of books on spells I'm sure you'll be interested in that Caddells have learned for centuries. I'll show you when you get back home again.

Though the only reason I'm even owling you are to obviously gloat! Father took mother and me to a duelling competition, jealous? I'm sure you are. You're just as interested in duelling as I am in Quidditch. It was great; Shafiq won. Surprisingly enough, Fleamont was there but not watching like I was but participating. Can you believe it?!

He was brilliant! For him, it's a hobby, he said. Maybe I'll take up duelling as a hobby, but perhaps not. I don't feel like giving mother a heart attack. That's all I really have for you for now. I would write a longer letter but… remember? Nothing to do, but I'll have you know granny Mer is still alive ad kicking. Maybe I'll go on an adventure with her, but I would have to find the woman first.

Yours truly, your favourite Caddell,

Emrys Cyrus Caddell- your future Lord that is!

--Eastwell Estate, Horsforth, Leeds, England—15th December 1932—

"Can you believe it?" Emrys ended his story.

After hearing the bizarre story Emrys sprouted, Kester ran his hand through his face.

"What an interesting tale. Do you have more?" said the soft voice of Cassiopeia Black. Kester rolled his eyes. Was she really going to entertain his wild imagination? "Why? Are you actually telling me you found that interesting? How ridiculous, really, Emrys? Escaping Azkaban on a dragon of all things, where do you make up these stories of yours?" Kester spoke.

"You can be a hater all you want," Emrys said softly, a smirk on his lips as he brought his teacup towards himself.

"Yes, Kester. You shouldn't be a 'hater'," Cassiopeia said in amusement, waiting as her house-elf refilled her cup of tea.

Kester hadn't even wanted to come here in the first place, but he could hardly reject the invitation of Cygnus Black to have tea with Cassiopeia. He had been in the Caddell Manor when he got the owl, and the little hellion named Emrys Cyrus Caddell begged and begged for him to come. Sometimes the boy acted older than some with the things he did and said, and other times he acted the worse child you could ever meet by being the annoying brat he was.

Emrys couldn't believe it when he had found out that Kester was to be married to Cassiopeia Black- the Cassiodea black, the great Aunt of Sirius Orion Black! Why was he never told things? It took him a year to figure it out after hearing a conversation they were having at diner one evening.

He was really curious about this alternate universe. Maybe the Caddell family existed in the cannon world but was destroyed. Perhaps something happened that they were removed from the list. That's what it was, right? Because he hadn't heard of the House of Caddell before, seeing as they were part of the so-called sacred 29…, which he once knew as the sacred 28.

He glanced at the Blonde Black. Cassiopeia hadn't gotten married. He knew that. What if Kester and herself don't actually end up getting married, or what if they did and later on Kester dies, and she takes the name Black back.

Emrys had gotten excited when he found out his cousin was to marry Cassiopeia because that meant Kester would be Sirius' great uncle through marriage. It was Brilliant! Sure, Emrys wouldn't be related to him through blood, but being 'related' to him through Kester was enough for him.

It was basically an easy way to meet Sirius, just as he had an easy way to meet James when he's born since he's related to him.

While Remus was practically an NPC, standing watching Sirius and James take this too far. He needs to invest in an invisibility cloak to watch the Marauders first-hand. He was curious to see what they were like in their Hogwarts days. From the movies it had shown the Marauders bullying Snape, but that couldn't be all. Most of the fanfics he had read had always portrayed James and Sirius as mean pranksters who hated Snape with a passion, with Snape always being the but of every joke, with him never doing anything about it.

Maybe he'll be a professor- it was a shame that Horace Slughorn was the potions professor until 1981, since 1931. Emrys could have taken that part, seeing as he was already interested in potions.

He planned to recreate the Wolfsbane potion for werewolves. It had been created in the 1970s, but with him nowhere in the past with his knowledge. He was sure the creator, Damocles Belby, would be in Hogwarts after Emrys left. The potion will be created by him after trial and error.

What else could he try to create?