18

--Cranborn Hall, Flint, Wales—26th September 1938—

Death.

What a peculiar thing.

Something out of our control left up to what some call 'fate', 'destiny'. It's inevitable, an unpredictable force.

Death is the beginning of a new chapter, is it not? If not, why would he be there in this new world? A new beginning, a fresh start- it's a gateway to rebirth. For the soul of Atticus Cyrus Caddell, his father has yet to end. His father was… dead.

Hearing those words, it was a faint mummer in the back of his head, not leaving him alone, reminding him at every moment. 'I'm sorry, Emrys. Your father has passed.' The very words his uncle had told him when they were in the Headmaster's office. He could feel the gaze of Headmaster Dippet, one of sympathy, one Emrys didn't want to see.

The words were uttered gently and carefully, the words pronounced slowly as if his uncle was still trying to let it sink in. Reminding himself that his brother was no longer part of the living.

Never in his whole life has Emrys had to deal with a close on passing. It wasn't something he had to deal with. He was never exactly part of what one would call a 'family', one that truly meant what family was said to be.

He had lived with his uncle and his wife, and their three children, from a very young age. He was two when he was taken away from his parents. His father having been arrested for murder, his mother was deemed unfit to take care of her own child, as her drug addiction was an issue. She could have chosen him, but it seemed the drugs were more important.

He didn't care. They were but a distant memory. He was two, after all, not remembering their faces, their voices. His uncle's family were all he knew, yet he was not part of that 'family'.

He was merely a stranger in their home, an outsider stood at the sidelines watching what could have been if his father had not been who he was if his mother could have just.. could just have-

The Caddells were the only real family he had ever had. He loved them because they were them. He had parents, and an older sister, who all cared for his well-being. He had cousins who cared to spend time with him, tell him things, drag him on adventures… it was great. It was homey and relaxing. He had a sense of belonging in this mess of a world.

He had no proper reaction to those words, his father was dead, and he didn't know what to say or to do. Was he just supposed to continue on and forget him? The man was his fa- his dad. One must not dwell in the past.

He had been buried in Scotland, according to the will his father had left behind. In the Roswood Estate, where his grandmother Seraphina had been buried. Two days after being collected from Hogwarts, they buried him.

He had yet to go back to Hogwarts. It's been a whole week. He wasn't sure when his uncle would have him go back. For now, Emrys didn't want to go back. It wasn't as though he was missing anything. Already knowing most of the things being taught, the classes were nothing but revision and practising the knowledge he already had.

Currently, he was within a Manor in Wales, The Cranborne Hall, with his uncle and mother, who which didn't seem to get along. There was some sort of conflict between the two. They weren't exactly hiding it. He had thought they had a neutral setting between them. Perhaps the death of Atticus was the cause of their problems.

His uncle explained things to him, everything sinking in.

Grindelwald killed his father for a story, 'The Kairos'… which wasn't actually just a story. For now, Grindelwald has halted his search for the so-called 'Kairos'. To think such a story was real, but for now, his uncle had said there wasn't much about it he needed to know, which he said he would explain in much more detail when he was 12.

He already explained the situation with the others, others being Seraphina and Kester, who both still believe that the Karios, is just a myth. He was the only person other than his uncle aware of such a fact… as one day he would be Lord Caddell.

He had thought that would be everything that his uncle needed to tell him, but no. Astrid Lenora Masters was the next topic.

He knew there was no way she just wanted to get to know Seraphina. He had already let the rest of the family be aware of her too, which his uncle mentioned that Seraphina had told him she had made contact with her. Which Baratheon said he would use to his advantage, not explaining it further with Emrys, to his annoyance, but he stayed silent, not prying, knowing it would be no use.

He was curious what the man had in store for her.

"Emrys."

At the call of his name, he turned to see his uncle standing at his door, of the room he had chosen to occupy with their stay in this new manor. The manor was spectacular, what he would have expected with them being Caddell's. It was nowhere near as large as the Caddell manor, with this manor only having 13-bed chambers, 19 bathrooms, 6 lounges, 3 dining halls, 1 ballroom, a potion chamber, a casting chamber and a quidditch pitch.

"Uncle. A pleasant morning it is," Emrys greeted the man as his gaze set on the opened window, light shining in. His uncle followed his gaze to the window as he nodded, "Pleasant it is, and your wellbeing?" his uncle spoke again.

Turning his gaze to the man, he too nodded, "I am fine. I suppose we all grieve in different ways, and yourself, uncle? It seemed to have slipped my mind to have even asked, even with us having been here for a week now."

His uncle chuckled lightly, his eyes wandering around the lightly decorated room. It was very different from the chamber Emrys had in the Caddell manor, which was decorated with all sorts, even with a potion-stand against one of the walls.

"I suppose you can say you're the first person I've heard ask me verbally and not from an owl."

Emrys' gaze turned to one of curiosity, "Kester?"

"No, not even Kester. I find it quite amusing that the Wizarding world has their own conspiracy theories on Atticus' death."

Right, his uncle had decided not to reveal the cause of his father's death. There were a few tabloids he had read since the rumours of his father's death began to increase, some conspiring that his Lord uncle had murdered him in order to steal the Lordship and continues to conspire to take the heir's birthright, passing it to his son, Kester.

It was a ridiculous notion. He was aware that his uncle had already sued a few of them for defamation, causing nearly all of those tabloids to change their wordings, being careful not to mention Baratheon in such a way while there were still a few tabloids risking it. It was ridiculous to see them right, how Emrys was to be the next to die. His uncle wouldn't kill him, nor would he have killed his father.

"I suppose…" Emrys replied. His uncle slapped his hands together, "Alright, enough talk. Come, there's much to do, I have given you enough space to morn, but it's time for something different."

He followed his uncle out the door, taking long strides to keep up with his uncle's short strides. Perhaps it was a trait for Caddell's to be tall, with how tall his father was, his uncle matching that height. Then there was Kester, who was slightly taller than his father. Even Zion, when he had been alive, was tall for his age. Emrys himself felt slightly taller than most of his peers. All he had to do was wait.

"Will I be going back to Hogwarts?" he questioned his uncle, "Do you wish to go back?" his uncle replied.

He didn't respond straight away. Did he wish to go back? His uncle was giving him a choice? What were the downsides of not going… there really wasn't any, was there? "If you will not force me, I rather stay here for a little while longer."

"Very well, but if this is the case, I will have you know I won't tolerate slacking. You are the heir to this noble and ancient House. Your studies must be up to date. I will contact a few professors that I am acquainted with to keep up to date with what is being taught at Hogwarts until you feel as though you wish to go back. I myself was thinking you should stay a while longer."

His uncle was already thinking he should stay? Perhaps he would have denied his request to go back to Hogwarts if he were to say yes.

"And Headmaster Dippet? Would he not be against me missing so much school?"

"Worry not. I will have that handled. You won't be missing much at all, with you learning at home as well. You'll be back in school after the half-term holiday, which will start on the 15th of October."

The rest of the walk was left in comfortable silence while Emrys was trying to rack his brain around what his uncle had in store for him and where they were actually headed.

The Casting Chamber? That's where they were now, with his uncle opening the door to the open space. It was his first time in this particular room of the Manor, having not been down this part of the Manor yet. His uncle was stood further into the room, near the end, as Emrys gazed around, taking it all in.

"So, why are we-" Emrys didn't allow himself to continue.

His heart jumped to his throat. It was just a feeling. His head turned around, and he saw his uncle staring at him, his eyes unreadable as his wand was pointed right at Emrys. The wand was flicked, and without a word, a stream of flames appeared, with a roaring, billowing noise, bearly giving Emrys any time to react to the large flaming animal. It was a serpent in all its fiery glory. It was large, covering everything in its path, heading right towards… him.

His heart wouldn't stop beating as fast as it was. He didn't even have his wand in his hand! There was no way in hell he would be able to grab his wand in time just to shout a spell, so he did without it.

"PROTEGO HORRIBILIS."

His mouth parted as he watched, a bright light take over, creating a wall with his magic- a barrier, blocking the area he was standing. He watched the firey serpent distinguish against the barrier.

…He had never tried that spell before. He had tried Protego, but not this variation of the protective spell.

The Fiendfrye. His uncle had just used the Friendfyre on him. He knew what that spell was, even if the man had not spoken the incantation! An immensely powerful fire that couldn't be extinguished by normal or enchanted water… a spell only giving its victims a split-second's warning to escape, with it quickly consuming anything in its path, the flames were abnormally large in size, taking the shape of a firey monster and beast such as snakes, dragons and chimaeras.

…Powerful, formless flames that destroy all things around itself, possessing sentience of its own, a continuous desire to burn everything it could. A dangerous spell, which most casters have a major difficulty with controlling the flames once unleashed.

The flames were gone, with his uncle slowly lowering his wand as Emrys' barrier began to disappear.

The room was silent, both Caddells staring at each other. Emrys was beyond confused, while Baratheon was just impressed. He could feel the heat of the flames in the air before he broke that silence.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO MURDER ME, UNCLE?! THE FIENFRYE? HAVE YOU GONE SENILE IN THAT OLD AGE OF YOURS, BLOODY MADNESS-"

"You did, better than I expected. In all honesty, I thought your father was over exaggerating… but wandless magic at your age, you truly are exceeding expectations." His uncle's voice cut him off. Emrys stood unmoving, just staring at his uncle.

"You were quick to cast the protection spell. I didn't think you would even cast anything, perhaps let yourself be defeated, yet you didn't give up. Your reaction time is spectacular, especially against such a spell." His uncle continued speaking.

"The protego, I would have thought you would use but… the protective barrier spell, Emrys? Beyond brilliant! Perhaps you were born for duelling! The protective barrier spell is a complex one to use, but to think you, at the age of 11, were able to use it without a wand… unbelievable. People would think me mad, but I suppose this will have to be kept between us."

Still, he said nothing, just staring with furrowed brows. He watched the man wave his wand without a word like he had done with the previous spell, conjuring 10 different spell dummies scattered around the room. With that done, he took steps towards Emrys before finally reaching him. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm guessing you believed I wished to kill you? Don't worry. If the flames had touched you, nothing would have happened. Magic is all about intent," His uncle mused as he looked up at the man silently, trying to get his thoughts together. "You were testing my abilities…" he finally spoke, his voice above a whisper.

"…My father told you-"

"-Yes, your father left me a rather long list telling me things and explaining things. A whole section for his son. Did you really think your father, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Caddell, was unaware of your use of the Casting chamber? He was very proud of you, Emrys, even if he had never told you. He watched from the sidelines as he practised and practised day and night, even distracting your mother when he knew she went off to find you."

He was lost for words. All this time, he was keeping it a secret. His father knew and said nothing? Pretending to be oblivious to it all.

"He asked of me, as his brother, to train you in the art of duelling. To make sure you're prepared for anything, and now that I've seen what you are capable of, you are certainly worthy of being taught by me. This was our first lesson, the next will begin this evening at 8pm no later. I don't appreciate tardiness."

His uncle then pulled something out of his pocket… a pouch. "Your hand." His uncle said, and Emrys stretched his arm forward, with an opened palm holding the pouch his uncle gave him. "Something you're father left for you in his will." His uncle said before ruffling his hair and walking off.

He stood stunned by the whole situation. He thought he was going to die!

"I hope the potters haven't rubbed off on you", he heard his uncle whisper before disappearing out the door. What?

He stared at the pouch in his hand. What did his father leave for him? He doubted it was money. There wouldn't be any point just handing it to him like this. He pulled the lace out of it, opening it, seeing something dark, his hand spank into the charmed pouch, pulling out a rather long and heavy cloak?

He snorted at the comparison of both items, the pouch barely comparing to the size of the cloak which it had concealed within.

Wait… it wasn't just a cloak- an invisibility cloak!

--The Solstice, Diagon Alley, London--

Seraphina was unsure what her uncle's motive was, but nonetheless, she just listened. After learning of Astri's 'conquest' and what she had done, she was enraged and just felt betrayed. There she had thought that her older sister truly wished to get to know, but this was just part of her plan, wasn't it? To get close to her, then strike her down? Was this some type of sick oke to her? Did she wish to see the pain in her eyes as she killed her?

All aside, her uncle wished for her to continue this 'sisterly' relationship that Astrid had begun, pretending to be the doting older sister. She wished her uncle would fill her in on what he had planned.

Once Astrid had owled her, sending condolences for her father's death, she invited her to the Solstice, a rather expensive and prestigious restaurant. One would find it rather hard to get a reservation unless you are a wealthy pureblood, or perhaps just your family name would permit you immediate service. Then again, they didn't just let any pureblood enter.

"I'm sure it must be tough", Astrid said. She sounded sad… not annoyed, even if she was trying to hide it. She was not at all 'upset' at the passing of their father, more so annoyed at the prospect of not being the cause of his death.

"Yes, I supposed, but life moves on, does it not? I am more worried about Emrys." Seraphina responded.

"Ah, yes. Our brother," Astrid said, emphasising, 'our' which had Seraphina's brow twitch slightly. There was no 'our'. He was her brother, not Astrids.

"He's still young, thankfully. He still has his uncle as a male figure in his life."

The way Astrid had said that didn't settle well with her, with the undertone of her voice. She just smiles in response, not trusting herself to respond neutrally. "And your family?" Astrid pried on.

"Fine… they're fine. Adrian is fine and has been helping out a lot with me still missing my father, and Theodore is as healthy as ever, having turned two in may…."

Astrid smiled… it was too 'sweet'. "Is that right…" Astrid's voice trailed on. After discovering Atrid Masters' true nature, Seraphina couldn't look at her the same way she had been the other times they had met. Everything she said just sounded like a promise or even a threat. Seraphina would kill her herself if she ever even laid eyes on her son.

That was a promise.