The Daughter of Valancaire

The weight of my father’s words lingered in the air, a heavy silence that seemed to press in from all sides. His voice had been calm and steady, but the truth he had revealed—of curses and ancient betrayals—felt like a stone lodged deep in my chest. Everything about my existence suddenly seemed wrapped in mystery and danger, as if my entire life had been governed by forces beyond my understanding. 

My mother, always perceptive, noticed the shift in me before I could say anything. She could see the storm of thoughts and questions building behind my eyes, the weight of a world I wasn’t ready for yet. Without hesitation, she placed a hand on my arm, her touch grounding me, her smile warm but tinged with sadness.

“Jessa, darling,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “I know this is a lot. You’ve been asleep for seven years, and now you’re waking up to a world full of things you don’t remember. This isn’t how anyone wants to return to their life.”

I looked up at her, feeling a pang of gratitude for the warmth she gave me, even as my mind spun.

“I’m sorry, Jessa,” she continued. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I think I’ve shared enough for today. You don’t need to understand everything all at once.”

I exhaled slowly, nodding. The weight of what I had just learned still pressed against me, but I could feel the tension in my shoulders begin to ease, if only a little. I wasn’t alone. I had a family here—one that was waiting for me to return to them, even if I had no memory of them.

My mother noticed my lingering uncertainty and decided to change the course of the conversation. With a knowing look, she began to talk about my brothers.

"Let me tell you about your brothers," she said, her voice lifting with a hint of affection. "You’ve got seven of them, and each one of them has been waiting for you to wake up. They've missed you, Jessa."

I leaned forward, intrigued despite myself. Seven brothers? I could hardly wrap my mind around it. She reached for a photo album that sat on a nearby shelf, and with a quiet wave of her hand, the book opened to the first page. The images in the album shimmered, as if alive. Faces blinked, smiled, and waved, all of them unfamiliar, yet stirring a sense of something... *home*.

“These are your brothers,” she said, turning the album so I could see. "You’re the only girl in a long line of boys."

I leaned closer, studying the photographs, and my heart did a strange, fluttering thing in my chest.

“The eldest are Leanor and Lidius, your older twins," she said. "They’re twenty now, and both have already joined the Ministry of Magic. Lidius has taken to working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, while Leanor spends his time studying ancient magical artifacts. They're both quite accomplished already, though Lidius has a bit of a tendency to wander into places he shouldn’t be." She smiled fondly, her eyes twinkling. "Laenor, on the other hand, is much more serious—always the protector."

I smiled in spite of myself, imagining the two of them. I could almost feel their presence—strong, certain, the kind of people who commanded attention without even trying.

“Then there are Zade and Zeke,” she continued, turning the page. "They’re seventeen and study at Durmstrang Academy. They’re both exceptionally talented—Zade’s talent with runic magic is unmatched, but he can be a bit reckless. And Zeke, well… He’s quite the strategist. Cold, calculated, but fiercely loyal when it comes to family."

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. They sounded like the kind of siblings who would have been a handful. And I’d never had the chance to know them.

She flipped the page, showing me more faces—two more sets of twins, both just a few years younger than the last pair.

“The third eldest are Valor and Vix,” she continued. "They’re sixteen now. Valor's a Gryffindor, and Vix in Slytherin. They’ve been at Hogwarts for a few years. They argue constantly—Valor with his righteous Gryffindor ideals, Vix with his cunning Slytherin nature. It’s a never-ending battle, but they care deeply for each other." She smiled softly, her voice a little wistful. “Even when they fight, they can’t stand being apart.”

I could almost hear the bickering between them, the lighthearted banter that only brothers could share. There was a warmth to the stories, a feeling of closeness between them that I couldn’t help but envy.

“And then," my mother said, as if reluctant to turn the page, "there’s your twin."

I froze.

“My *twin*?” I whispered, hardly daring to believe it. “I have a twin?”

"Yes," she said, her eyes softening. "His name is Jace. He’s at Hogwarts, too. He’s been there for years. He was… heartbroken when you fell into that deep sleep, Jessa. He missed you terribly, and not a day went by that he didn’t worry about you. It broke his heart that you couldn’t go to school with him. He’s written to you almost every day since—wondering if you were okay, hoping you’d wake up." 

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest. I had a twin. A brother who had been waiting for me—who had missed me.

“Every day?” I murmured, more to myself than to her. My mind tried to picture him—Jace, my twin. I could see him, standing in the halls of Hogwarts, surrounded by students, yet feeling a hollowness without me by his side. 

“Yes, darling,” my mother said, her voice thick with emotion. “Every single day. He’s the one who never gave up hope. And now, when you're ready, he’ll be here, waiting to finally see you again.”

A lump rose in my throat, and I quickly blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. My twin. Jace. The thought of him sent a rush of warmth through me, like a lifeline thrown into the void of my memories. I didn’t remember him yet, but I could feel that connection between us, faint but undeniable.

"I... I want to meet him," I said, my voice steady but filled with longing. "I want to see him, talk to him."

"You will, darling," my mother reassured me, her smile softening. "You will. When you're ready, we’ll make it happen. He’s been waiting for you, and he won’t stop until he sees you again."

The truth of it settled in me, the deep, undeniable pull of family, of belonging. My father had shared with me the heavy truths about our curse, about the world we lived in, but my mother was showing me something else—the love, the hope, and the bond that tied us all together.

There was still so much to learn, so much to uncover about the Valancaire legacy, the curse, and my place in it. But I wasn’t alone. Not anymore. I had brothers, a twin, and a family who had never given up on me, even when I couldn’t remember them.

"One step at a time, Jessa," my mother whispered, her hand resting gently over mine. "We’ll take it one step at a time, together."

And for the first time in a long while, I felt the weight of the unknown begin to lift. The road ahead would be hard, but I was no longer afraid. With my family by my side, I could face anything that came my way.

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