Children of the War, Heirs of the Future
Life in the Wizarding World had always been tumultuous, but it seemed that in the past century, the chaos had only intensified. Perhaps there was a time of peace in the days of the Founders or when Merlin himself walked the earth, but those days were long gone, buried beneath centuries of tension and conflict.
The trouble seemed to take a darker turn at the dawn of the 20th century, with rumors of a rising Dark Lord—Gellert Grindelwald. It was in the 1920s when Grindelwald began gathering his followers, spreading his doctrine of magical supremacy across Europe. His campaign of terror was marked by violence and rebellion, a quest to subjugate Muggles and bring about a new world order. Though much of the conflict occurred on the Continent, its effects were felt in Britain, where fear and unrest simmered beneath the surface.
Even after Albus Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald in 1945, Britain’s magical society struggled to recover. The wizarding world had been plunged into war, and on top of that, the Muggle world had just survived the horrors of World War II. The scars of both conflicts ran deep, and while the magical community tried to rebuild, tensions continued to run high.
In the wake of his victory over Grindelwald, Dumbledore became a legendary figure, hailed as a hero and awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. Despite the many offers to assume the position of Minister for Magic, he refused, choosing instead to return to his beloved role at Hogwarts. He eventually ascended to positions of great political power, becoming the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but Dumbledore’s influence extended far beyond titles. He became a trusted guide and mentor to countless students, shaping the future of magical Britain.
Yet, beneath the surface of this apparent calm, trouble was brewing. The rise of blood-purity ideologies had taken root in certain pure-blood families, who clung to a sense of superiority over Muggle-born witches and wizards. While Dumbledore fought to create an inclusive environment at Hogwarts, where all bloodlines were equal, the shadows of prejudice and old hatred still loomed large over the magical world.
Many of these pure-blood families quietly began to embrace the idea of pure-blood supremacy, a sentiment that had only grown in the wake of Grindelwald’s defeat. Though Europe feared dark magic after the devastation wrought by the Dark Lord, Britain was a different story. There, young pure-blood wizards with an interest in ancient, forbidden magic quietly sought to continue their studies, in defiance of a Ministry that sought to restrict and outlaw the Dark Arts.
Dumbledore, ever vigilant, sought to curb the rise of dark magic, determined to ensure that no new Dark Lord would rise from the halls of Hogwarts. But despite his best efforts, he could not prevent what was already in motion. For a new Dark Lord had already begun his ascent—Tom Riddle, a boy hailed as the second coming of Merlin. A genius and a prodigy, Riddle traveled the world after his time at Hogwarts, gaining knowledge of the Dark Arts and amassing power. He returned to Britain, a changed man—no longer Tom Riddle, but Lord Voldemort.
Voldemort gathered followers, many of them from old pure-blood families who resented the Ministry’s increasing restrictions on dark magic. They were drawn to him not only by his power but by the promise of freedom—freedom to practice the ancient magic that had been their birthright, free from the constraints of Muggle-born witches and wizards who feared the very thing that made them magical.
As Voldemort’s influence grew, so too did the conflict between the pure-blood supremacists and the Muggle-borns. On one side stood those who believed the traditions of the magical world, rooted in centuries of history, should remain unaltered. On the other were those who sought change, to make the magical world more inclusive, more accepting of new blood and new ideas.
The Ministry, under the pressure of these tensions, leaned further into restricting the Dark Arts, hoping to placate the Muggle-born population. Dumbledore, too, became increasingly vocal about the dangers of dark magic, aligning himself with the Ministry’s efforts. But in doing so, the rift between pure-blood families and the rest of society only deepened.
Who was in the right? Was it the pure-blood families, who believed in preserving their ancient traditions, or the Muggle-borns, who sought to reform the magical world they had only just entered? The lines had blurred, and in this fractured society, the seeds of the next great conflict had already been sown.
With all this brewing tension, a new generation of students was preparing to enter Hogwarts—each with their own backgrounds, ideas, and ideologies. Some were weighed down by the expectations of their pure-blood families, others determined to follow in the footsteps of their forebears. There were heirs and heiresses of ancient bloodlines, poised to carry forward the legacy of their families; half-bloods, unsure of which world they truly belonged to; and newly minted witches and wizards—Muggle-borns, who entered the magical world with rose-tinted glasses, full of wonder and awe.
But Hogwarts was no longer a sanctuary of peace. With the tensions outside the school creeping into its halls, the fragile peace that had existed after the fall of Grindelwald was nearly non-existent. House rivalry had evolved from mere academic competition into something far darker. It was no longer about earning more points or winning the House Cup—now, it was about survival. Physical altercations had become commonplace, and the once-spirited inter-house competition had devolved into outright hostility.
The most bitter battles were fought over the preservation of magical tradition. Pure-bloods saw themselves as the protectors of centuries of wizarding culture, and they deeply resented the Muggle-born students, who, they believed, wanted to erase those traditions in favor of bringing in Muggle customs and holidays. To the old families, this was sacrilege—an assault on everything that made the magical world special.
The situation was further exacerbated by the current Headmaster, who, despite holding a vast amount of power in the wizarding world, seemed to focus his efforts entirely on appeasing Muggle-borns. Under his leadership, Hogwarts had become a battleground of ideologies. While he preached inclusivity, his policies seemed to revolve only around accommodating the new wave of Muggle-born students, often at the expense of upholding the long-standing traditions of the wizarding world. This favoritism, intentional or not, only served to deepen the rift between houses, especially as pure-blood students felt that their history and culture were being trampled on.
Instead of fostering unity, the Headmaster's actions fueled division. Prejudices simmering outside the school found fertile ground within its walls, leaving students caught in the crossfire of an ideological battle they were too young to fully understand but too entrenched to escape. Hogwarts, once the heart of the magical world, was becoming a microcosm of the fractured society beyond its gates.
The House Founders, who had once been the closest of friends, comrades in arms, united by a shared vision, were now divided by the legacy they left behind. Their houses, once built on shared values and mutual respect, were now home to students who could hardly stand the sight of each other. The divide between them had grown so vast that any hope of reconciliation seemed like a distant memory, especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Slytherin, a house once known for its cunning and ambition, had become a bastion of pure-blood tradition. It was now dominated by students from ancient magical families, with only a few select half-bloods from well-respected lineages. The house prided itself on preserving wizarding culture, and its students were fiercely loyal to their heritage. They viewed themselves as the protectors of the magical world's true essence, resisting any attempt to dilute it with outside influences.
On the other hand, Gryffindor, the house of bravery and courage, had become the stronghold of Albus Dumbledore's ideology. His followers were passionate and bold, but their loyalty was not to tradition—it was to the headmaster's vision of progress and change. The house was filled with Muggle-born students, as well as children from pure-blood families who had rejected their heritage in favor of Dumbledore’s teachings. These students believed they were champions of a new era, blindly following Dumbledore’s lead, convinced that the old ways needed to be erased to make way for the new.
The rift between the two houses was palpable. Slytherins saw the Gryffindors as traitors to their heritage, intent on destroying everything that made the wizarding world unique. Gryffindors, in turn, viewed Slytherins as relics of a dark past, clinging to outdated ideologies that had no place in the future. What had once been a rivalry based on competition had now turned into a bitter conflict of ideals, and the discord only grew as the years passed. The chasm between the houses was so deep that any hope of bridging it seemed impossible.
It was the year 1971, and the shadows of war were already creeping into every corner of the Wizarding world. Outside the walls of Hogwarts, loyalties were being tested, sides were being drawn, and whispers of revolution echoed through every household. There were those who were staunch followers of the rising dark cause, sympathizers who supported it from the shadows, neutrals who tried to avoid the chaos, and others who stood in fierce opposition to everything the Dark Lord stood for. But life within Hogwarts remained a microcosm of the broader magical world, with the same family feuds, prejudices, and bitter rivalries festering among the students.
That year, a 16-year young man of noble lineage, heir to a Noble and Most Ancient House. His future had already been carefully mapped out by his family, including an arranged betrothal to a girl from a similarly prestigious pure-blood family. It was a union of status and tradition, a bond meant to strengthen their bloodlines and preserve the ancient magic that coursed through their veins.
However, the young heir’s life took an unexpected turn when he became involved in a casual dalliance—a relationship that was never meant to be more than a fleeting affair. But what began as an indiscretion soon spiraled into a scandal, shaking the foundations of the pure-blood community. The girl, who was not his intended fiancée, became pregnant. This revelation caused shockwaves among the pure-blood families, and harsh decisions had to be made.
The young heir, as the only son of his house, faced an impossible choice: loyalty to his family and its traditions or standing by the woman who carried his child. It was a choice between integrity or the weight of centuries-old expectations. Torn between the two, the boy made what would later be seen as a grave mistake. He chose integrity—deciding to break the betrothal contract and marry the woman who had become the mother of his child.
His decision enraged his parents. To them, he had not only tarnished the family’s name but had insulted the ancient traditions they held dear. To restore the family’s honor, the Lord of the House decided to take action. In the Wixen society, the disownment of a member from a Noble and Most Ancient House was not taken lightly, and there were three severe methods by which it could be done:
The first option was to blast the offender from the family tree, making it impossible for them to access the family's vaults, resources, or heirlooms. However, this was a temporary measure that left the door open for redemption. The individual would remain a part of the family by blood but would be stripped of privileges and titles.
The second, more drastic option, was to magically and legally disown the individual. This was an official act of erasure, where the person would be removed from the family tree entirely, their name stricken from all records, their magical lineage severed. The individual would no longer bear the family name, nor would they have access to its ancient magics. It was the ultimate disgrace, a punishment reserved for only the gravest of offenses.
The final option, reserved for situations where there was only one heir and the family line was at risk of dying out, was perhaps the most brutal of all. The heir could keep the family name and magic, but at a steep price—they would be forced to give up their firstborn son, who would then be named the new heir to the family. This ensured the bloodline would continue, but at the cost of the father’s bond with his child.
In this case, the family chose the third path, as the offense was deemed grave, but they could not afford to sever the family line completely. The heir was permitted to keep the family name and the magic that came with it, but the price was severe. He was forced to give up his firstborn son, who would be named the new heir to the family. The child would be raised under the care of the family, molded to embody the legacy and expectations of the house, while the father would be left on the outside, unable to truly claim his child.
This decision was perhaps even crueler than a complete disownment. While he retained his name and the family's magic, he had to watch his son grow up apart from him, shaped by the very traditions he had sought to escape. It was a punishment that ensured the bloodline would continue but at the cost of his personal happiness and integrity. His decision to follow his heart had left him a father in name only, and it was a price he would pay for the rest of his life.
In the eyes of the Wizarding world, this was a rare and brutal sentence, one reserved only for those whose actions threatened the very core of their family’s legacy. It was a reminder that, in the end, tradition always prevailed, and no one—no matter how noble—could escape the weight of their heritage.
But there was no convincing the soon-to-be father. He was resolute in his decision to sever the connection with his family, which he believed was clinging too tightly to outdated traditions. The young man, heavily influenced by the teachings of Albus Dumbledore—the greatest wizard of the age—saw the old pure-blood ways as regressive. In his mind, Dumbledore's vision for the magical world was the future: equality for all, regardless of blood status. He believed it was time for the pure-blood families to stop being stubborn and accept that everyone, regardless of their lineage, deserved an equal opportunity in the magical world.
What he didn’t fully understand, or perhaps refused to see, was the deeper complexity of his family’s stance. In their eyes, tradition was not just about superiority—it was about survival. Centuries of heritage had safeguarded the Wixen community from the dangers of the Muggle world, protecting their culture, their secrets, and their magic. And while the boy believed in breaking away from this to accommodate those who were new to the magical world, he did not see the cracks he was creating. His pursuit of equality—while noble—was built on the assumption that the Muggle-borns could adapt quickly enough at age 11 to understand a world they had never known.
By dismissing the safeguards and wisdom of his ancestors, he was, in the eyes of the older generation, tearing apart the very foundation that had kept the magical world thriving in the shadows for centuries. To his family, it wasn’t simply about being stubborn or clinging to power—it was about maintaining a balance that had ensured their survival. But to him, it was time for progress, for change, and for a future that no longer looked backward.
In choosing to follow Dumbledore’s ideals, he unknowingly declared war on his own heritage, and the consequences of that choice would echo far beyond his own life. He saw himself as a revolutionary, fighting for a better world, but to his family, he was a traitor—one who had turned his back on the very blood that had given him magic in the first place.
The young girl’s family, equally vocal in their support of Dumbledore’s ideals, found themselves in a precarious position. In a society as old-fashioned as the Wizarding world, where maidenhood was still highly regarded in marriage, their daughter’s actions had brought shame upon their household. The whispers of scandal, particularly among the pure-blood circles, threatened their family’s reputation. Though they had championed equality and the future of the magical world under Dumbledore’s guidance, they could not escape the societal weight that came with their daughter’s choices.
The Lord of the House, a proud man with two other sons who still had their futures ahead of them, found himself torn between his beliefs and the reality of the situation. He could not afford to have his entire family branded as blood traitors, especially when the Wizarding society still held such power in determining the fates of pure-blood families. Reluctantly, he chose the second and most unforgiving form of disownment for his daughter—severing her from the family name, stripping her of her status, and erasing her from the family tree. It was a harsh decision, but one he felt necessary to preserve the legacy of his bloodline and protect the future of his other children.
However, in the world of pure-blood families, nothing is ever final. There are always stipulations, hidden clauses in contracts and family legacies that ensure the bloodline remains intact. Family, blood, and legacy reign supreme above all else, and though the girl was disowned, the future would hold unpredictable outcomes. Pure-bloods are meticulous about their heritage, and it was not uncommon for ancient, binding laws to resurface in the wake of such disownments. While the girl had been cast aside, there was no telling what stipulations could be invoked when the family found itself in need of preserving its bloodline, even from an estranged daughter.
Only time would reveal the consequences of these actions, and whether this chapter in the family's history would truly close, or if the call of blood would once again pull them back together.