The Shafiq Legacy
Petunia’s heart raced as she placed the heir ring on her finger, not fully knowing what to expect. There had been countless stories about magical inheritance, of long-lost family legacies and ancient powers that would either accept or reject their heir. But she hadn’t truly believed that anything would happen. She had already given up on magic, had accepted her life as a squib, and found other ways to escape through her writing.
But as soon as the ring touched her skin, something changed. The world around her seemed to melt away, and a force—powerful and ancient—began to surround her, cutting her off from everything and everyone. Petunia was enveloped in a glowing, invisible barrier. It pulsed with a strange energy, and she felt her body respond in ways she couldn't comprehend. A cold sensation spread through her limbs, almost as if her very cells were being restructured.
Then came the voice.
"Soul from another world, the prophecy of your arrival came to our family 300 years ago. The Shafiq family has always been able to predict the future, to glimpse other worlds and visit different universes. 300 years ago, we foresaw the end of our line if we continued to inbreed. As proud purebloods, the prophecy was an insult to everything we had known, dividing our family and accelerating the very future we had desperately tried to avoid."
The voice was not of a single person, but a collective presence—an ancient entity tied to the Shafiq family magic, speaking through the ring. Petunia could feel its ancient power, and its words reverberated through her very being.
"The prophecy foretold that our bloodline would rise again when a foreign soul occupied the body of one of our family members. This soul would possess magic of its own, one that would revive our family magic. You are that soul, the one who will restore us. I sense your foreign soul and foreign magic trapped within a squib core—compatible with our family magic, yet unable to fully manifest."
Petunia's mind raced. Her thoughts tangled in confusion and disbelief. Foreign soul? She could hear the words, but they felt surreal, disconnected from the reality she had known. She had always known she was different, but this... this was something else entirely.
"Do not be afraid, child," the voice continued, "The heir ring will increase your connection to the family magic. The core of your magic will rupture, and you will lose consciousness. But do not worry. The family magic will work on repairing your magical channels, rebuilding your core, and allowing you to accept the power that you rightfully possess. You are our future. We will not harm you."
The final words echoed in her mind, even as the magic began to overwhelm her. She could feel her body begin to tremble, a deep, wrenching sensation in her chest. A strange warmth spread through her, as though the very air around her was charged with power.
Is this... what it feels like to be truly magical?
But before she could process the enormity of what was happening, the force that surrounded her intensified, and Petunia's vision blurred. The world around her faded to darkness, and she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Outside the protective magical shield, chaos reigned. Mrs. Evans was the first to break into frantic sobs, her hands wringing in worry. "What’s happening to my daughter? She wasn’t supposed to have magic! This is all wrong! Petunia doesn’t—can’t—have magic!"
Lily, on the other hand, stood frozen for a moment, wide-eyed. Then, her excitement got the better of her. "Wait! Does this mean Petunia’s going to have magic like me? Does this mean she’s a witch after all?"
Eileen, ever the voice of reason, put a calming hand on Mrs. Evans' shoulder. "This isn’t normal, but it’s not something to fear. The Shafiq magic is ancient, and it may have just taken Petunia in a way that no one expected. It’s possible—likely—that the magic will accept her. We’ll just have to wait and see."
Severus, who had remained silent up until now, spoke up, his voice low but filled with concern. "Petunia... she’s not like Lily. Her body wasn’t made for magic. This could... this could be dangerous."
Eileen nodded, understanding his concern. "I know, Severus. But we have to trust the process. The goblins have already set up the necessary protections, and they’ve prepared a ritual cleansing for when Petunia wakes up. She will be safe."
The goblins, true to their nature, were already at work, preparing for the next steps. One of the older goblins, a grizzled creature with deep scars on his face, explained, "The ritual we have planned will help cleanse her body of the strain. The family magic will repair the rupture in her core. It may take time, but we are confident that Petunia will survive this."
Though the situation was grave, the goblins seemed unshaken by the enormity of what was happening. For them, Petunia was more than just a squib turned heir. She was the future of a bloodline that had been all but forgotten. They would do everything in their power to see her through this, to make sure the prophecy was fulfilled.
Hours passed before Petunia awoke, her body heavy, her limbs feeling foreign and weak. She found herself in an unfamiliar room, soft pillows beneath her head and the quiet murmur of voices in the background. For a moment, she couldn't remember what had happened, until the memories came flooding back—the ring, the voice, the magic...
Her head spun as she tried to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate. The sensation of power surged within her, but it was still foreign, still raw. The memory of the voice echoed in her mind.
"You are our future."
Petunia’s heart pounded. She wasn’t sure if she could accept what had just happened, if she could truly comprehend what was expected of her. But one thing was certain: she had just unlocked something within herself. She had magic now, ancient magic tied to a bloodline she had never known existed.
And this time, magic was going to change everything.
As Petunia—or rather, Veronica—slowly came to, the first sensation that washed over her was the pulsing of magic coursing through her veins. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Before, she had struggled with her lack of magical power, felt disconnected from the world she had dreamed of as a child, but now… now she felt like an untapped well of force. The magic, her magic, was alive inside her, an energy that vibrated in her very core. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Her senses heightened, and she could almost hear her own magic whispering to her. A hum, a vibration of sorts, that seemed to be coming from deep within her, from the very core of her being. For the first time, she truly felt magical.
But it wasn’t just the magic that overwhelmed her. The vision struck her like a lightning bolt, a fleeting glimpse of the future—her future. It was disorienting, like standing on the edge of a cliff, watching a future unfold before her without understanding how it all came together.
She was arguing with Severus. She could feel the heat of the argument in her chest, the tension in her voice.
"I’m not going to Hogwarts, Severus. It’s not my place," she could hear herself say in the vision. She could feel her heart racing with frustration. She was no longer the squib sister, the one left behind. No, now she was finally going to a magical school but not in Britain with Lily and Severus. She was going to go Mahoutokoro School of Magic in Japan.
It was a paradox. On the one hand, she finally had the chance to live the life she once thought impossible. On the other hand, the sheer thought of being within the reach of both Dumbledore and Voldemort—two figures who, as an adult, she knew all too well to be dangerous—made her skin crawl. Dumbledore, the revered Headmaster of Hogwarts, was a man who played the long game, using people as mere pawns in his endless chess match against evil. He would sacrifice anyone to achieve his version of the greater good. And Voldemort—Tom Riddle—was a man who had not only lost his humanity but his sanity. His obsession with power, his need for control, made him a monster that should not be underestimated.
Neither one was someone she wanted to be near, much less involved with. And yet, Hogwarts—Hogwarts, the very place she once dreamed of attending as a child—was now a place she couldn’t bear the thought of stepping foot in.
In the vision, Severus looked at her with his usual stoic, calculating expression. He was trying to convince her, trying to understand why she was turning her back on the one opportunity that had always been denied to her. And there she was, her voice filled with frustration, shaking her head in refusal.
"You don’t get it, Severus," she said, the words bitter in her mouth. "Hogwarts isn’t a place of safety. It’s a breeding ground for everything I’ve spent my life avoiding. Magic, politics, power plays—no thank you." The vision faded just as quickly as it had appeared, and Veronica found herself gasping for breath. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she sat up, trying to gather her bearings. That vision had felt so real, so vivid. Was it a premonition? A glimpse into a future that was yet to come?
She didn’t have time to ponder the implications. The feeling of her magic was still there, running rampant inside her, as if it was desperately trying to find its place in her new reality. But there was something else, something nagging at the back of her mind.
What did this mean for her now?
Veronica slowly stood up, feeling the weight of the ring on her finger. The Shafiq ring, which had granted her this new path, this new power. She looked down at her hands, now crackling with the power of the Shafiq legacy. The magic was still foreign, still untamed—but now she had to learn to control it. She wasn’t just Petunia Evans anymore. She was Veronica, someone who had once been an adult and who now found herself thrust into a new life, a new body, and a world full of unknowns.
But the truth was clear. No matter how much power she now possessed, Veronica wasn’t ready to face the complexities of Hogwarts. She wasn’t ready to join the war that was inevitably brewing around her.
As much as Lily might be excited for their shared journey to Hogwarts, as much as Severus might want to protect her, Veronica couldn’t bring herself to follow the well-trodden path. Her knowledge of the future made her all too aware of the dangers that lurked within those ancient walls.
With a deep breath, she began to focus on controlling her magic. It was the only thing she could do now—control it. Keep it in check. She had no idea what the future held, but the last thing she wanted was to be swept into a destiny she never chose.
Her gaze turned toward the door, where she could feel the faint echo of Severus’s presence. He was worried about her, but he also didn’t understand her reluctance to embrace the magic that had been thrust upon her. She would have to explain it to him, but for now, she needed time to figure out what this power truly meant for her—and how to avoid the very forces that threatened to consume everyone she cared about.
She remembered the ancient Japanese school from her research, from bits and pieces she had read about. It was a place that focused on the pursuit of knowledge, discipline, and magical mastery—qualities that seemed far more in line with what she was trying to achieve. It was in contrast to Hogwarts, a school so deeply entwined with the history of the British magical world and its ongoing battles between dark and light. There, she could focus solely on her own magical growth without getting tangled in the mess of history.
But even with her magic now amplified, Veronica was still young. Her body was eleven, and even though she had already gone through the magical transformation of Shafiq lineage acceptance, the reality was that she wasn’t quite ready to leave the safety of what she knew. The risk of stepping into unknown territory was significant.
As her mind raced, she could hear the sound of footsteps approaching her room. Severus seems like her vision will play part sooner than she though.
The door creaked open slowly, and Severus entered, his face etched with concern. His usual composure was replaced with worry, and Veronica couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He had been through so much already—growing up in a broken home, experiencing hardship, and now this. She was a squib-turned-witch, a being out of place in this world, and yet, he cared.
"Petunia," Severus said, his voice quieter than usual, "how do you feel?"
Veronica gave him a weak smile, though she could tell he wasn’t convinced. He had always been perceptive, even at this age.
"I’m fine," she said, her voice betraying her more than she intended. "It’s just... a lot, Severus. You know what it’s like."
He stepped closer to her, frowning. "I don’t know exactly what it’s like, do I? You’ve changed, Petunia. You’re not... you’re not the same. You’re different, and I can see it. But that doesn’t mean you should be alone in this. You’re still my friend."
Veronica sighed, her gaze falling to the floor. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. But the truth was, she had no idea how to explain herself to him, or how to explain the newfound magic that now pulsed within her. She wasn’t ready to share the truth of who she really was—Veronica, an adult woman with all the weight of knowledge of the future—and certainly not ready to share that she was the one destined to inherit the Shafiq legacy.
"I’m not going to Hogwarts, Severus," she said softly, looking up at him. "I’ve thought about it. A lot. And it’s not just about the magic. I can’t stay in that world. It’s too dangerous. It’s... toxic."
Severus’s brow furrowed. "But why? We could be together there, you, Lily, and me. We could finally be at a school, learning, becoming who we’re meant to be. You’ve always dreamed of going."
"I don’t want to be a part of that world, Severus. The things that happen there... the war that’s coming, the manipulation, the lies—it’s all too much for me." She paused, her voice breaking. "I don’t want to be part of that fight. Not in the way you think."
He stared at her for a long moment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he seemed truly lost. "I want to protect you, Petunia. I’ve always wanted to. You’ve been there for me, in your own way, and I... I can’t just let you throw yourself away, not when I know how much you’ve suffered."
She swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to rise. She wanted to tell him everything, to explain her fear of the future, of the way the pieces of their lives seemed so intertwined with dangerous forces. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it all out loud, not yet. Not when she still had so many questions about her own place in all of this.
"Severus," she whispered, "I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know if I can be a part of that world. I don’t even know if I belong in the magical world. All I know is... I need to find my own way."
He hesitated, before finally nodding, albeit reluctantly. "If you want to do this on your own, Petunia... I’ll understand. But you’re not alone. Don’t shut me out."
Veronica’s heart swelled at his words. The connection between them was deeper than he knew. But the truth was, it wasn’t just about Severus. It was about her own journey, one that would likely take her far away from the dangerous paths of British wizardry, into the quiet but powerful traditions of another magical world entirely.
"I’m not shutting you out," she said quietly. "I just need to figure things out. I need to decide what I’m doing with this magic... and with my life."
Severus gave her one last, lingering look before walking out of the room. Veronica sat still, her heart heavy. She had made her decision: she would go to Mahoutokoro. It was her best chance to escape the looming dangers of the wizarding world, to finally have a life of her own choosing, without the weight of prophecy or dark forces pressing down on her.
But that decision would not be easy. And as the magic inside her pulsed, Veronica knew that there would be consequences to defying fate—and to leaving behind everything she once thought she wanted.