Culling Aftermath Ⅸ

The dim staircase grew colder the deeper they went r under Mulciber Citadel until at long last they reached the end of the staircase. The hall further ahead split into corridors, one leading to a dungeon and another to the wine cellar. Just before the corridor split, there was a door scratched up as if thought someone closer to a child's size had tried to frantically claw their way inside, but the door remained firmly shut. The scratched-up door dark door glistened ominously and yet it was the entrance to the house elf quarters.

"Your father not once entered the house elf quarters," Meredith quietly explained as she removed a key from the folds of her skirts and inserted a cold iron key into the lock. Peregrine refrained from inquiring about the scratches at the door that looked as though they had been made by a house elf's tale. He had the feeling that there was a sordid tale behind the marks on the tale that would fill him with repugnance down to his very bones.

Peregrine's attention is pulled back to the present by his mother, Meredith did not turn the key in the lock. She raised her hand and knocked twice and paused. He arched his brow at his mother wondering if this was some sort of magical password.

Meredith paid her son no mind as she knocked twice again, before turning the key in the lock. With a loud shriek, the lock unlocks, and Meredith gently pushes the door open. The door lets out a creak before she turns around and beckons her son after her.

Peregrine peers over his mother's shoulder into the house elf quarters. Normally house elves beds are stacked magically against the wall, but with only one house elf left at Mulciber Citadel, there was no need to do so. His eyes widen in confusion at spotting two cots instead of one pushed up against the wall of a small room. On top of the two cots are two neatly folded, but severely patched thick quilts. There is a small old bookshelf against the wall filled with tattered old books including children's picture books and a few tattered children's toys.

Peregrine lets out a soft gasp at seeing a small golden-haired head peek out from out of under the cot. Tears instantly welled up in his eyes at seeing the impossible sight of his younger brother, Damian, still alive. Unconsciously, he stepped forward reaching out for Damian despite knowing the fact that his younger brother could not possibly be here.

The little boy's eyes grew wide pulling his head back in panic revealing pointed small ears. The little boy quickly shrinks back under the cot at the sight of Peregrine. Peregrine's hand remains frozen and outstretched as the sight of the pointed ears on the child flashed before his eyes. Damian didn't have such ears, but the child looked identical to Damian.

"Mother, what is the meaning of this?" Peregrine sputtered in bewilderment with a sinking expression on his face. His mind races to put pieces together as a pallor washes over his face. In a sickly voice, he raises his eyes to his mother and asks, "Mother, just what did Damian do?"

Meredith did not reply immediately as she had more pressing concerns. She sat down at the edge of one of the cots and cooed softly to the scared child. "Don't be frightened, Edwyn. This is Peregrine, your uncle, my eldest son."

A golden-haired head cautiously peeks out from under the cot and slowly emerges clutching an old patched rabbit with a lopsided ear. "Bun-bun," Peregrine whispered out loud recognizing the old stuffed bunny rabbit of Damian. In their childhood, it was the only way to get Damian to fall asleep was with his old bunny rabbit clutched tightly in his arms. He had thought the old rabbit long lost burned away by their father in the fireplace as it was a weakness to feel such tender sentiments.

Peregrine presses his lips tightly together as a wave of emotions threaten to engulf him for a moment before the wave recedes. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he notices the little boy observing him intently at the side of his mother. "You look like me," Edwyn observed with bright curiosity evident in his eyes. "Grandmama says that you and my father looked very much like my grandfather."

"Yes, that is true," Peregrine quietly replied he slowly moved closer as not to frighten the wary child. Edwyn subconsciously tightened his grip on his stuffed bunny rabbit but did move away from the side of Meredith.

"Did you know that bun-bun once belonged to your father?" Peregrine made small talk. "He used to be terrified of thunderstorms and would always climb into bed with me."

Edwyn slowly nodded. "Grandmama says that father used to sleep with bun-bun all the time."

"He did," Peregrine sadly whispered, before sitting down slowly next to his mother on the small cot. "And how old are you might I ask, Peregrine?"

"Four years old," Edwyn importantly said as he held up four fingers. "I can count all the way to one hundred, and I can say my letters and colors. I've even started reading and writing and arithmetic with grandmama."

"That is most impressive," Peregrine said. "Why don't you pull out some of your sums and show me."

"Yes!" Edwyn eagerly said, before carefully setting his only companion down, bun-bun on the cot, before hurrying to grab a notebook, ink, and quill kept in a box safe under his cot.

Peregrine shares a pointed look with his mother as he quietly does the math in his head. Edwyn would have been born during Damian's first year of Hogwarts. And from what Beat had explained to him, Tilly had suddenly died that year. Of course, she had, if it had been secretive childbirth. Using all her house elf magic to conceal the pregnancy, Tilly would have been far too weak to safely survive the childbirth having expended all her energy in keeping the child safe.

While Edwyn happily begins to show them their work. Through a stiff smile, Peregrine whispers out of the corner of his mouth. "Did you know mother?" He asked with a tinge of enraged sharpness.

"We will speak of it later, Peregrine," Meredith firmly answered, before letting Edwyn run out of steam. "Edwyn dear, Peregrine is now the head of the family. Would you like to be officially recognized as a Mulciber?"

Edwyn frowns cutely in confusion and wrinkles his round little nose. "What does that mean grandma?"

"Well, you can now live upstairs in your own room and you can even go to school one day and get a wand," Meredith slowly explained to her grandson.

"You mean like Hogwarts?!" Edwyn excitedly said. "I read all about Hogwarts in the picture books with Grandmama. That's were the best wizards and witches go! I want to make lots of friends just like Helga Hufflepuff did!"

"Exactly so," Meredith dotingly replied.

"What about Uncle Beat?" Edwyn worriedly asked. "Is he going to live down here all alone?"

"No, he will have a room near yours," Meredith truthfully answered.

"Mm, I would like that grandmama," Edwyn excitedly replied giving his grandmama a quick hug, before picking up his rabbit and babbling to him as only children can about the grand adventures he was going to have.

"Will you carry, Edwyn, my per-per?" Meredith asked her son.

"Per-per?" Edwyn incredulously said, before giggling. "That's a funny name, Grandmama."

Peregrine rolls his eyes with good humor, before gently picking up the little boy. Edwyn was a bit small for his size, but he would grow just fine. Likely, he would grow up to be a short wizard, but nothing that would indicate that Edwyn was half-elf beyond his small pointed ears. However, that was easily explained away as belonging to ancient goblin blood. There had been a half-goblin heiress that wed into their family over 600 years ago as part of the goblin treaties. Though rare, the pointed ear trait would appear every few generations.

It was not that Peregrine wanted to hide Edwyn's lineage, but half-house elves did not naturally reproduce with humans in nature. No, they are always were born from the worst of human desires. It was far better for Edwyn's safety that he possesses goblin heritage in society rather than that of a house elf lineage.