The Daughter of Valancaire

(Victor Valancaire - Valancaire's Previous Patriarch,  Jessa's Grandfather)

Jessa's POV

After dinner in the Great Hall, Samantha and I bid our goodbyes to our friends, sharing a knowing glance as we headed back to the Ravenclaw common room. The weight of our plan pressed heavily on my shoulders, but I refused to let it show.  

As the fire crackled softly in the common room, I turned to her, my voice calm but resolute. “We go tonight. I’m ready, and we have everything we need. I talked to Jace, and he’ll stay here. If anything goes wrong, he’ll call for help immediately.”  

Samantha looked at me with unwavering determination, nodding firmly. “I understand.”  

We spent the hours leading up to midnight in preparation. I carefully checked my satchel—Maxima, Edurus, Focus, and a few Thunderbrews were all accounted for. Samantha quietly practiced her Disillusionment Charm, her wand movements precise and steady.  

When the clock struck midnight, we slipped out of the common room under the cover of darkness, broomsticks in hand. The cool night air rushed past us as we flew over the Forbidden Forest, the pale moonlight illuminating our path. My heart pounded as we neared our destination: the family tomb Isidora had written about in her journal.  

As we landed, the air shimmered faintly with an ancient magic, humming and thrumming all around us. The sight of the tomb’s entrance—weathered stone carved with intricate runes—sent a chill down my spine.  

“This is it,” I whispered, running my fingers along the cold stone.  

Samantha nodded silently, holding the crest tightly in her hands.  

A part of me couldn’t help but think of Isidora’s journal and the strange light I had encountered before. Was it connected to this place? Was it watching us even now? But I pushed the thoughts aside. Samantha didn’t need to know about my doubts—not yet. For now, the crest was our priority.  

The heavy stone doors creaked open, revealing a dark, cavernous path lit only by faintly glowing sconces along the walls. The deeper we went, the more oppressive the magic became. It clung to the air like a living thing, pressing against my chest with every step.  

“It’s like the tomb is alive,” Samantha whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of enchantments.  

As we explored, the crypt came alive. Traps of ancient magic activated with every wrong step—walls shifted, floors rumbled, and spectral guardians emerged to test our resolve. Working together, we navigated the challenges, using Samantha’s quick thinking and my spells to press forward.  

Finally, we reached a massive chamber at the heart of the tomb. The air was thick with tension, and an eerie silence fell over us.  

Then came the roar.  

A Mountain Troll emerged from the shadows, its massive frame filling the chamber. Its skin was like stone, and it wielded a club that could crush us in a single swing.  

“Samantha, hide!” I shouted, pulling a vial of invisibility potion from my satchel and thrusting it into her trembling hands. “Drink this and stay out of sight. Throw a Thunderbrew if you can, but leave the rest to me.”  

“But—”  

“No arguments!” I snapped, my voice firm and unyielding.  

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding, disappearing with a shimmer as the potion took effect.  

I turned to face the troll, my heart pounding in my chest. Reaching for my own potions, I downed Maxima, Edurus, and Focus in quick succession. My body surged with power—my spells sharper, my skin harder, and my focus unwavering.  

“Confringo!” I shouted, the fiery explosion striking the troll square in the chest. It roared in pain, swinging its massive club in retaliation. I dodged just in time, casting Bombarda to create a shockwave that momentarily staggered the beast.  

A Thunderbrew exploded at the troll’s feet, crackling with electricity. I smirked—Samantha’s aim was perfect.  

“Good throw!” I called out, narrowly avoiding another swing of the troll’s club.  

I switched tactics, casting Levioso to momentarily lift its weapon before following up with a barrage of basic casts and Confringo, blasting the troll backward. The fight was grueling, each spell demanding every ounce of focus I could muster.  

Finally, with one last well-aimed Bombarda, the troll crashed into the chamber wall. It let out a final, defeated roar before collapsing, the chamber falling silent once more.  

I stood there, chest heaving as the effects of the potions began to wear off. Samantha reappeared moments later, her face pale but filled with relief.  

“You did it,” she said softly.  

I nodded, my eyes lingering on the troll’s lifeless form. The strange light from Hogsmeade didn’t appear this time. Perhaps… perhaps it didn’t show because it knew I could handle the troll on my own. The thought lingered in my mind, but I said nothing to Samantha.  

Instead, we turned our attention back to the crest. It seemed to glow faintly, as if acknowledging the troll’s defeat. Together, we approached the altar and placed it in its rightful spot. The hum of magic intensified briefly before quieting, the tomb itself seeming to exhale with relief. 

_______

After placing Marmaduke’s crest in its rightful place, the hum of magic in the tomb deepened. Samantha’s eyes darted around nervously, her wand tight in her grasp.  

“What happens now?” she asked, her voice low but steady.  

I looked at her, then back at the now-empty altar, a heavy weight settling in my chest. “I need you to wait at the entrance,” I said softly, my tone firm.  

Her head snapped toward me, confusion etched into her face. “Wait? No, Jessa. I didn’t come all this way just to stand outside while you—”  

I reached out, gripping her arm gently but with enough force to halt her protest. “Samantha, listen to me. You’ve done so much already. I couldn’t have made it here without you, but this… this part, I have to do alone.”  

She stared at me, searching my face for an explanation I couldn’t give.  

“Samantha,” I continued, my voice softening, “you’ve been through so much for your family, for your brother. Let me carry this part. You’ve trusted me this far—please, trust me now.”  

Her lips parted as if to argue, but she hesitated. I could see the worry in her eyes, the reluctance to let me face whatever lay ahead without her.  

“Jessa… you’ve helped me and my brother, even when you didn’t have to. You didn’t owe us anything, but you were there. If you ever need me—anything at all—you let me know,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I won’t force you to tell me what’s going on, but I know there are things you’re not ready to share. I’ll wait until you are.”  

I gave her a small, grateful smile, though my heart felt heavy with guilt.  

Samantha took a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. “I’ll wait outside,” she said, taking a step back. Her voice hardened with determination. “But if you’re not out in thirty minutes, I’m coming in to get you myself.”  

“I’ll be fine,” I promised, though the words felt hollow even as I said them.  

She lingered for a moment longer before turning and retreating toward the entrance. Her silhouette disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone in the heart of the tomb.  

I turned back to the altar, the air around me thick with anticipation. Slowly, I pulled out Isidora’s journal from my satchel and opened it, my fingers trembling slightly.  

*I am here,* I wrote, the ink vanishing into the page.  

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a ripple of magic coursed through the room, causing the stone walls to vibrate softly. The altar shifted, sinking into the ground, and in its place, a Pensieve rose, its silvery contents swirling with an almost hypnotic glow.  

The journal shimmered with new text.  

*See it, my dear. See the life you had forgotten and the life you will live.*  

My chest tightened as I looked between the journal and the Pensieve. A knot of unease twisted in my stomach, but I couldn’t turn back now. Slowly, I leaned forward, letting the silvery liquid envelop me.  

_______

Flashes of memories consumed me, overwhelming my senses with their vividness.  

The first memory was warm, almost comforting. I saw myself as a child, running through the lush gardens of the Valancaire estate. Jace, Vix, and Valor were with me, their laughter echoing through the air. Our mother watched from a distance, her blonde hair glinting in the sunlight as she smiled. My father’s deep voice joined her soft laughter, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt perfect.

But then the memory shifted. I was alone in a dark, damp cave. The air was thick with the hum of magic, and the faint sound of mermaids singing drifted around me, eerie and beautiful. Their voices were haunting, laced with a melody that seemed to call to something deep inside me. I could feel the pull, the ancient magic stirring within me, but I was too young to understand what it meant.

The scene changed again. My grandfather and my mother stood in the grand hall of the manor, their voices raised in anger. They were arguing about me.

“She’s my daughter!” my mother shouted, her sapphire-blue eyes blazing. “You can’t take her!”

“She’s more than that!” my grandfather bellowed, his presence towering and commanding. 

“The magic in her blood is beyond anything you can comprehend. She belongs with me!”

My father entered the room, his wand already drawn. 

“You won’t take her. Not now, not ever.”

The fight that followed was chaotic—flashes of light, booming spells, and the crackle of ancient magic. I remembered clinging to the banister, my small hands trembling as I watched in horror. My grandfather’s gaze met mine, his expression softening for just a moment.

“Be brilliant,” he whispered, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Never follow your heart.”

And then he turned and left, his robes billowing behind him. The memory faded as I felt the pain of losing consciousness, the world going black around me.

The next scene was of Hogwarts. Familiar faces surrounded me—Natty, Poppy, Samantha, Sebastian, and Ominis. We were laughing, exploring, living our lives. But then the warmth of those moments was replaced by something colder, darker.

I saw myself in a dimly lit room with Sebastian and Ominis. Sebastian was livid, his wand aimed directly at me.

“You should’ve done better!” he shouted, his voice cracking with anger and betrayal. “You don’t care about Anne! The Valancaires, with all their glory, only care about themselves! You fooled me—and her!”

Ominis stepped between us, his wand raised. “Sebastian, stop! Don’t do this!”

But Sebastian’s rage was unrelenting. He cast Crucio, and the memory blurred as pain seared through me.

The next flash was of Sebastian in a cave filled with Inferi, his desperation palpable as he tried to resurrect Anne. I saw him kill Solomon with Avada Kedavra, the green light illuminating the horror on his face. The ritual failed, and I saw Anne’s grave, a simple marker in a quiet field.

Sebastian stood over it, his shoulders hunched in grief before he turned and flew away, his figure disappearing into the horizon. Ominis was left behind, his wand shattered, his spirit broken.

Another memory flickered into view. Natty was in a wheelchair, her determined spirit still shining despite the hardships she faced. I saw Poppy, her skin marred with burns but her resolve unshaken.

Then came the battle—goblins, curses, and chaos. Professor Fig and I fought side by side, but the overwhelming force of the goblins was too much. I saw myself fall, my vision blurring as Jace knelt beside me, tears streaming down his face.

“Stay with me, Jessa!” he begged, his voice cracking. But I was slipping away.

I saw Sebastian behind bars, his face shadowed with regret. Ominis sat in silence, his eyes empty of the spark they once held. Hogwarts burned in the distance, the cries of students and staff echoing through the air as goblins unleashed their fury.

The scene shifted again.

A woman with sapphire-blue eyes—the same as mine—appeared. She smiled, her expression both warm and determined. “Change this world,” she said, her voice echoing like a command.

And then the final memory came. A dark figure loomed before me—a man wielding a powerful curse.

The green flash of Avada Kedavra lit the room, and I caught a glimpse of Isidora.

“They killed me,” her voice echoed. “After I discovered how to harness ancient magic, they feared me. They didn’t believe I could wield it for good. The professors killed me to keep that power hidden.”

Her voice grew stronger, filled with conviction. “If they hadn’t, I would’ve found a way to use it for good. Instead, they buried it in Hogwarts—a repository of immense power. Now the goblins seek it, and they will stop at nothing to claim it. You must stop them. But to do so, you must steel yourself. The trials you face will break you if you are not prepared.”

I felt her presence growing closer, her voice a whisper in my mind. “My kindred spirit, you know what you must do. Use your mind, not your heart. Everything is a means to an end.”

The memory ended with one final image—a woman with blue eyes, her expression fierce and unyielding. “Change this world,” she repeated.

______

I couldn’t take it anymore. The memories overwhelmed me, and I tore myself from the Pensieve, clutching my head as a piercing headache wracked my body.  

I screamed—a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the tomb.  

“Jessa!” Samantha’s voice rang out, frantic and full of fear. She came running, skidding to her knees beside me. Her hands hovered over me, unsure where to touch.  

“Jessa, what happened? What’s wrong? Talk to me!”  

I tried to respond, but the pain was too much. My vision blurred, and the world tilted.  

The last thing I saw was Samantha’s panicked face before everything went dark.  

____

I opened my eyes to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains of the hospital wing. My head throbbed, and my body felt like it had been hit by a Bludger, but the sight before me made my heart ache in an entirely different way.  

Jace, Vix, Valor, and Samantha were all by my side. Their faces were etched with a mix of relief and worry, and the moment my eyes fluttered open, Samantha let out a sharp gasp, tears already streaming down her face.  

“Jessa!” she cried, throwing her arms around me before I could even sit up. Her grip was tight, and her body trembled as she held me. “I was so scared—I thought… I thought I lost you!”  

I patted her back gently, my voice hoarse. “I’m okay, Samantha. I’m sorry I worried you.”  

As she pulled back, still sniffling, Vix and Valor immediately stepped forward, their identical green eyes scanning me as if to confirm I was truly alright.  

“Jessa,” Vix said, her voice unusually soft. “Don’t you *ever* scare us like that again.”  

Valor nodded, his jaw tight. “We thought…” He stopped himself, shaking his head. Without another word, they both leaned in and wrapped me in a hug, their usual teasing attitudes replaced by a protective, almost desperate energy.  

Jace stood behind them, his arms crossed, but his expression betrayed the storm of emotions he was feeling. As Vix and Valor pulled away, he stepped closer, crouching beside my bed.  

“Do you have any idea what you put us through?” he asked, his voice low but heavy with concern. “The parchment we enchanted—it started burning, Jessa. I knew something was wrong. I grabbed Valor and Vix, and we found you and Samantha just in time.”  

I blinked, trying to process his words. “The parchment burned?”  

“Yes,” he confirmed, his green eyes boring into mine. “Whatever happened in that tomb, it triggered the enchantment. By the time we got there, Samantha was struggling to carry you out.”  

I turned to Samantha, who was still sitting close to me, her face pale and tear-streaked. “You… carried me?”  

Samantha nodded, her lips trembling as she tried to speak. “You collapsed after screaming—I didn’t know what to do. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t respond. I… I just knew I had to get you out of there.”  

Her hands gripped the edge of the bed tightly as she continued. “I dragged you as far as I could, but I was panicking, Jessa. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.” Her voice cracked. “And then your brothers appeared. They helped me get you out.”  

I looked at Jace, Valor, and Vix again, my heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and guilt.  

“You’re lucky we got there when we did,” Jace said, his tone firm. “If Samantha hadn’t been so determined to get you out, who knows what could’ve happened.”  

I reached out, squeezing Samantha’s hand. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice choked. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”  

Her eyes filled with tears again, but she managed a small smile. “I told you I’d wait for you, Jessa. I’m just glad you’re okay.”  

The room fell into a moment of silence, the weight of the night’s events settling over all of us. Vix finally broke it, her usual sharp tone softened by worry.  

“Whatever happened in that tomb, Jessa, you’re going to tell us everything. No more secrets.”  

Valor nodded in agreement. “We’re not letting you face this alone anymore.”  

Jace gave a curt nod. “We’ll protect you, Jessa. No matter what.”  

I looked at each of them—my siblings, my friend. Their loyalty, their love—it was overwhelming.  

But as much as I wanted to lean on them, to let them shoulder some of the burden, I knew there were parts of this journey they couldn’t follow me on. Not yet.  

“I’ll tell you,” I said quietly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Just… give me a little time.”  

They exchanged glances but ultimately nodded.  

“For now,” Jace said, his tone softening, “just rest. You gave us all a scare, and you need to recover.”  

I sank back into the pillows, exhaustion washing over me. Samantha squeezed my hand one last time before standing, her expression still lined with worry.  

As they all began to leave, Jace turned back, his gaze lingering on me.  

“Whatever you’re facing, Jessa,” he said, his voice firm and unyielding, “you’re not alone.”  

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion.  

As the door closed behind them, I stared up at the ceiling, the memories from the Pensieve still fresh in my mind. The weight of what I had seen, what I now knew, pressed down on me like a heavy cloak.  

But one thing was clear: the path ahead was darker and more dangerous than I had ever imagined. And while I wasn’t sure if I was ready, I knew I couldn’t turn back now.  

_____

Nurse Blainey had been fussing over me all morning, insisting I rest after “pushing myself too hard.” My brothers and Samantha had done an impressive job spinning the story to cover up our trip to the tomb. According to them, I’d fainted during an overly intense practice duel. It was simple enough to believe, and Nurse Blainey had accepted it with a resigned sigh, muttering something about “reckless students.”

I was sipping on a calming draught she’d prepared when the door creaked open. Poppy, Natty, Sebastian, and Ominis entered the hospital wing, their faces etched with concern. Poppy carried a small bouquet of wildflowers, Natty balanced a basket of treats, and Sebastian clutched a book. Ominis followed, his expression serene but attentive.

“You look dreadful,” Sebastian said, a teasing smirk on his lips. 

“Sebastian!” Poppy scolded, giving him a sharp elbow to the side. “Don’t say that to someone recovering!” She turned to me, her face softening. “How are you feeling, Jessa?”

“Better, thanks,” I said, offering a small smile. “Nurse Blainey has been taking good care of me.”

Natty placed the basket on the bedside table and perched at the foot of my bed. “Samantha told us you overdid it in a duel. You really ought to take better care of yourself, Jessa.”

Poppy nodded earnestly, setting the flowers beside the basket. “She said you wouldn’t stop practicing until you perfected your shield charm. Honestly, you have to know your limits.”

Samantha, standing near the door, gave me a slight, knowing smile. She was playing her part perfectly, and the others had no reason to question her version of events.

“I’ll be more careful next time,” I promised softly, glancing away.

Sebastian pulled up a chair, flipping the book he carried onto the table beside me. “Here,” he said, nudging it toward me. “It’s about advanced defensive spells. Thought you might find it useful for, you know, not fainting next time.”

Poppy sighed heavily, but there was a faint smile on her lips. “Sebastian, you could be more sensitive.”

“I am being sensitive,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “I’m offering practical help.”

Ominis cleared his throat, stepping closer to my bedside. “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better, Jessa,” he said, his voice measured. “But they’re right. You shouldn’t push yourself so hard. If you need help with your studies, any of us would be more than willing.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” I said warmly. “That means a lot.”

Despite their kindness, I couldn’t help but look at them differently. The memories from the Pensieve lingered in my mind, like shadows I couldn’t shake. Every glance at Sebastian brought a pang of unease. I could still feel the searing pain of Crucio, hear the anguish in his voice, and see the torment in his eyes as he stood over Anne’s grave. Ominis, too, seemed different. I could still hear his voice trembling with fury as he tried to stop Sebastian in the vision. Even Natty and Poppy—the images of their future suffering haunted me. 

Sebastian must’ve noticed the way I was looking at him because his teasing grin faltered. His brows knit together in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low but direct.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You’re looking at me like I’ve just killed a puffskein,” he said, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Did I say something? Jessa, if I’ve done anything—”

“No,” I interrupted quickly, shaking my head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” he pressed, leaning forward, his tone edged with worry.

The room went silent, tension thickening the air. Poppy and Natty exchanged uneasy glances, while Ominis tilted his head slightly, his unseeing eyes seeming to search for something in the quiet.

“It’s nothing,” I said at last, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’m just... tired.”

Sebastian didn’t look convinced. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If you say so,” he muttered, though his eyes lingered on me, scrutinizing every detail of my expression.

Ominis broke the silence with his calm, measured voice. “Perhaps we should let Jessa rest. She’s been through enough, and the last thing she needs is us overwhelming her.”

Natty nodded, rising from her seat. “He’s right. You focus on getting better, Jessa. We’ll see you in class soon.”

Poppy smiled warmly, placing the flowers closer to my bedside. “Feel better soon, Jessa. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

As they began to leave, Sebastian lingered behind. He hesitated for a moment, his hand resting on the back of the chair. “If you ever need anything,” he said quietly, “you know where to find me.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ominis, the last to leave, turned toward me before walking out. “Take care, Jessa,” he said softly. “We’ll be here if you need us.”

Once they were gone, the weight of the memories crashed over me again. The way Sebastian had looked at me—concerned, confused—only made it harder to bear. And Ominis... his quiet resolve from the Pensieve haunted me. I wondered how much of the future could still be changed—and how much was inevitable.

_____

As the door closed behind Ominis, the quiet of the hospital wing settled around me like a heavy blanket. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, but the sound of soft footsteps made me open them again. Samantha stood there, holding a letter tightly in her trembling hands. Her face was streaked with tears, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she struggled to speak.  

“Samantha?” I said, alarmed, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong? What happened?”  

She shook her head quickly, tears falling freely now, but there was something in her expression—something that wasn’t fear. It was relief.  

“No, no, Jessa,” she managed, her voice trembling. “It’s not bad. It’s—it’s good. It’s amazing, actually.” She clutched the letter tighter, her knuckles white. “William... my brother... he’s well now.”  

I stared at her, the words not quite registering at first. “He’s—he’s well? What do you mean?”  

She nodded, stepping closer to the bed, her tears coming harder. “The Healers wrote to me. They said he woke up this morning. His breathing is normal again, and his fever’s gone. He even asked for food. They’re saying it’s a miracle, Jessa. A miracle.”  

A wave of relief and warmth washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s incredible, Samantha. I’m so happy for you and your family.”  

But Samantha didn’t stop there. She stepped even closer, clutching the letter to her chest like it was her most prized possession. Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees beside my bed, her head bowed as she wept.  

“You,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’re the reason he’s alive, Jessa. You didn’t have to help me, but you did. You risked so much—you risked *your life*—just to help me and my family.” She looked up at me, her eyes shining with tears. “I don’t even know how to thank you. There aren’t enough words.”  

“Samantha, you don’t need to thank me,” I said softly, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.  

“Yes, I do!” she said fiercely, her grip tightening on the letter. “You’ve done more for me and William than anyone else ever could. You saved him, Jessa. You saved my brother’s life, and you didn’t even hesitate. How can I ever repay that?”  

I shook my head, overwhelmed by her gratitude. “I didn’t do it for a reward, Samantha. I did it because it was the right thing to do. You and your brother deserved a chance. That’s all.”  

Samantha let out a shaky laugh, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Of course you’d say that. You’re just... you’re incredible, Jessa. Truly.” She stood up slowly, still clutching the letter as if it were her lifeline. “If you ever need anything—anything at all—you have to tell me. I don’t care what it is or when it is. I’ll be there for you, the same way you were there for me.”  

I smiled at her, touched by her sincerity. “I’ll hold you to that,” I said gently.  

She laughed again, this time a little steadier, and nodded. “You better.”  

For the first time in what felt like ages, Samantha’s tears were tears of joy.

________

I spent another day in the quiet confines of the hospital wing. Nurse Blainey insisted on keeping me for observation, though I felt restless and eager to return to my usual routine. My friends visited as much as they could, their presence a welcome distraction from my thoughts.  

Poppy brought notes from Herbology, her soft voice a comfort as she explained what I’d missed. Natty recounted the finer points of our Charms lessons, gesturing animatedly with her hands as she described the professor’s latest quirks. Even Samantha, still radiant with relief over William’s recovery, snuck in during breaks to bring me summaries of History of Magic lectures.  

But Sebastian... Sebastian watched me.  

He visited me the most, standing by my bed with an air of forced casualness, but his sharp eyes betrayed him. I could feel his gaze lingering on me, as though he were trying to decipher a puzzle only he could see. Every time I looked at him, the memory of his face twisted in anger—of his wand pointed at me, the pain of *Crucio*—came rushing back. My hands would tighten into fists, and I’d shiver despite myself.  

“Are you cold?” he asked once, catching the movement.  

“No,” I replied too quickly, avoiding his eyes.  

Ominis, who accompanied him most of the time, seemed to notice as well. Though his milky eyes never met mine, I could sense his awareness, his quiet understanding. It was as though he could feel the tension hanging between me and Sebastian, even without seeing it.  

“You’re quieter than usual,” Ominis remarked one evening, his tone light but probing. “Is there something on your mind, Jessa?”  

“Just tired,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”  

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t press further.  

When I wasn’t surrounded by my friends, I had other distractions to keep me company. Letters from home arrived frequently—one from my father, another from my mother. Both were written in hurried scrawls, their words dripping with concern.  

**“My dearest Jessa,”** my mother’s letter began. **“We heard from your brothers that you’ve fallen ill. Please, my love, take care of yourself. If you need us, we’ll be there in an instant. Nothing is more important than your health.”**  

My father’s was shorter, more succinct but no less heartfelt. **“Jessa, your mother and I are worried sick. Rest well, and don’t hesitate to call on us. We’ll come if you need us. Be brilliant, my girl.”**  

I traced the words with my fingers, feeling a pang of guilt. If only they knew the truth of why I was here. But I couldn’t burden them with that.  

As the hours dragged on, I found myself lost in thought more often than not. The flashes of memories from the pensive haunted me, playing in my mind like a broken record. The pain of my past, the grim forewarnings of the future—they all blurred together, weighing heavily on my heart.  

And yet, through it all, one thing remained clear: I couldn’t afford to falter. There was too much at stake, too many lives hanging in the balance. Whatever lay ahead, I had to be ready. For them. For me. For everything. 

_______

After being released from the hospital wing, the first thing I did was find my brothers. I couldn’t keep the memories I had recovered from the pensive to myself any longer—they deserved to know.  

The crisp evening air bit at my skin as I climbed the steps to the top of the Astronomy Tower. It was a secluded spot, perfect for the conversation I needed to have. My brothers were already there, waiting. Jace leaned against the stone railing, his arms crossed and his expression serious. Vix and Valor stood nearby, watching me with identical looks of concern.  

“Silencio,” I whispered, waving my wand to cast a spell of silence around us. No one would overhear what I was about to say.  

“I remember everything,” I said, my voice steady but low.  

Their eyes widened in unison.  

“Everything?” Jace asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.  

I nodded. “The pensive—it showed me memories of our past. Of our family. Of Grandfather.”  

At the mention of him, I saw Valor’s jaw tighten, and Vix exchanged a quick glance with Jace.  

“I saw… arguments. Fights between him and Mother. Between him and Father. I saw him leave our manor after whispering to me…” My voice faltered, the weight of his words echoing in my mind. “‘Be brilliant. Never follow your heart.’”  

Jace let out a sharp breath, his hands clenching into fists. “Typical of him,” he muttered. “Always obsessed with power and logic. Never cared about the cost.”  

I continued, determined to get through it all. “I saw flashes of my childhood, moments I had forgotten. And…” I hesitated, carefully choosing my words. “I saw something else. Something about the future.”  

Vix straightened, his green eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, the future?”  

I took a deep breath. “A goblin rebellion is coming. I saw it. The goblins are after something—something tied to Hogwarts. It will spark a war.”  

Their reactions were immediate.  

“A rebellion?” Valor asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “How is that possible? The goblins have been quiet for years.”  

“Not anymore,” I said firmly. “They’re after ancient magic. And if they get it, it will destroy everything we know. I saw it in the memories—Hogwarts burning, goblins attacking, chaos everywhere. We have to be ready.”  

Jace’s face was a mask of determination now, his earlier disbelief replaced with focus. “If what you’re saying is true, we need to act. But how do we prepare for something like that?”  

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But we can’t ignore this. Grandfather always told us to use our minds, not our hearts. That’s what we’ll need to do. Stay logical, stay sharp.”  

I purposefully avoided mentioning the memories of Sebastian, Anne, Ominis, or Solomon. Those were too personal, too raw. If my brothers knew, they might act differently around Sebastian—or worse, try to intervene in ways that could escalate things. I couldn’t risk it.  

As the weight of my revelations settled between us, I took a deep breath and looked at my brothers, a question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind finally surfacing.  

“What happened to Grandfather? In the past seven years, I mean. Why haven’t I seen or heard from him?”  

Valor sighed heavily, and Vix shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering away as if trying to avoid mine. It was Jace who spoke, his voice calm but tinged with weariness.  

“Grandfather… he’s a complicated man, Jessa. You remember how he was—strict, intense, always obsessed with perfection. When you fell asleep, he—” Jace hesitated, his jaw tightening as if recalling a bitter memory. “He rampaged. He blamed our parents for what happened to you. He wasn’t exactly fond of Mother, to begin with—thought she was too scandalous, too improper for Father. He wanted to raise you himself, to mold you into the Valancaire heir he always dreamed of.”  

My brows furrowed, shocked by his words. “He blamed Mother?”  

“He blamed *everyone*,” Valor muttered, his tone bitter. “But mostly her. Said she wasn’t fit to raise a child as ‘special’ as you.”  

Jace nodded grimly. “It escalated to the point where Father forbade him from coming near you. They had a huge argument—spells were cast. After that, Grandfather locked himself away in the Valancaire Keep. No one’s heard from him since.”  

I stared at them, stunned. “The Keep? He’s been there all this time?”  

“It’s what we’ve been told,” Vix finally said, his voice quiet. “He cut himself off from the family. Father tried to make amends at one point, but Grandfather refused to see him. He wouldn’t see anyone.”  

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. The man I had seen in my memories—the one who whispered, *Be brilliant. Never follow your heart*—was now a recluse, locked away in his own fortress.  

“I need to write to him,” I said suddenly, the decision crystalizing in my mind.  

All three of them looked at me as if I had just suggested something utterly absurd.  

“Jessa, no,” Jace said firmly, his voice edged with warning. “You don’t know how he’ll react. He might not even reply.”  

“Or worse, he might,” Valor added darkly.  

“You don’t understand,” I said, my voice rising. “He will know what to do. If anyone understands ancient magic, it’s him. He’s a Valancaire. He’s the one who always told us to use our minds, to think ahead. Please—I need to do this.”  

Vix shook his head, his expression conflicted. “Grandfather isn’t the same man you remember. He’s cold, Jessa. Cruel, even. He won’t just welcome you with open arms.”  

“I don’t care,” I said, my tone resolute. “This isn’t about him welcoming me. This is about finding answers. About protecting all of us. I *have* to try.”  

Jace sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”  

I shook my head.  

“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But if you’re going to write to him, do not entail the whole situation, we don’t know yet where his intentions lie.”  

“Agreed,” Valor added.  

“That makes sense” I conceded. I knew I had made the right decision. Grandfather might have been a distant, divisive figure in our lives, but he was still a Valancaire—and he might hold the key to understanding the chaos I had glimpsed in the pensive. 

Valor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate seal—a dark blue wax stamp etched with the Valancaire family crest. He held it out to me, his expression serious.  

“You’ll need this,” he said. “The Valancaire Keep is heavily warded. No owl can get through the protections unless it carries something marked with this seal. It’ll ensure the letter reaches Grandfather and no one else.”  

I took the seal from him, turning it over in my hands. Its weight felt heavier than it should, as if carrying the legacy of our family along with it.  

“Thank you,” I said softly, looking at each of them.  

“Just… be careful, Jessa,” Vix said, his voice tinged with unease.  

Jace nodded in agreement. “And don’t forget—you don’t have to do this alone. If Grandfather responds, let us know immediately. We’ll figure out the next steps together.”  

I nodded, grateful for their support despite the tension in the air. “I will. I promise to update you as soon as I hear back from him.”  

With that, we parted ways, my brothers giving me one last reminder to rely on them and to stay cautious.  

As I made my way to the common room, my thoughts swirled with the weight of everything that had happened and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. But as I approached the entrance, I saw a familiar figure sitting on the staircase—Sebastian.  

His head was bowed, his shoulders slumped. He looked… defeated.  

He glanced up when he heard my footsteps, and his eyes met mine. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the silence stretching between us. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and hesitant.  

“Jessa… can we talk? In the Undercroft?”  

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Of course.”  

The walk to the Undercroft was quiet, neither of us saying a word. The usual sense of safety and comfort I felt in that hidden space was clouded by the tension between us.  

As soon as we arrived, Sebastian turned to me, but before he could say anything, I spoke first.  

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice soft but earnest. “I know I’ve been… different lately. It’s not because of anything you’ve done. It’s just that I haven’t been feeling well—mentally and emotionally. I’m sorry, Bas.”  

He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but the hurt in his eyes remained. “It’s just that… the way you’ve looked at me lately—it’s like you’re scared of me. Like I’ve done something horrible. And I thought…” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I thought maybe I’d done something wrong. I know I can be reckless, emotional. But I’d never want to hurt you, Jessa.”  

His words cut deep, and I felt a pang of guilt. I stepped closer, reaching out to touch his cheek gently.  

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” I said again, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t fair to you. I—” I hesitated, the images from the pensive flashing through my mind. Him yelling at me, casting *Crucio*, his desperation to save Anne. But I pushed those thoughts aside. That hadn’t happened yet. This was still the Sebastian I knew.  

“I’ve been carrying some things I can’t talk about right now,” I continued, “but I need you to know that it has nothing to do with you. You’ve always been there for me, and I shouldn’t have made you feel like you’ve done something wrong.”  

He studied me for a moment, his expression softening. “You mean that?”  

“I do,” I said firmly.  

As I looked at him, I was reminded again of the broken boy I had seen in the pensive. A boy consumed by grief, guilt, and desperation. I vowed to myself then and there—I wouldn’t let that happen. I would find a way to help Anne, not just for her sake but for Sebastian’s, too. She was the first step.  

Anne was the anchor that tied him to the worst parts of himself, and if I could find a cure for her… maybe I could prevent the path I had seen him take.  

I withdrew my hand, clenching it into a fist at my side. *I must not let myself be consumed by my emotions for my friends,* I reminded myself. *I must use my mind. Always my mind. It’s what Grandfather would have wanted. It’s what Isidora warned me to do.*  

But even as I resolved to follow that path, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the journey ahead. And in that moment, standing in the dim light of the Undercroft with Sebastian, I silently vowed: I would do whatever it took to change the future.

______

Sebastian walked me back to the Ravenclaw Tower, a small smile playing on his lips as we ascended the staircase. “I can’t wait to have breakfast with you again in the Great Hall,” he said, his voice lighter than it had been earlier in the evening.  

I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth in my chest that had been absent for days. “Me too. Goodnight, Bas.”  

“Goodnight, Jessa,” he said softly before turning and heading back down the staircase.  

As I stepped into the dormitory, the sight of Samantha already fast asleep greeted me. Her face was peaceful, her breathing steady—a stark contrast to the turmoil she had endured recently. Seeing her finally getting the rest she deserved warmed my heart. I quietly placed my things down and tucked her blanket around her more snugly. She had been through so much, and knowing she could now find solace made me feel lighter.  

Settling down at my desk, I lit the small lantern beside me and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment. My thoughts swirled, heavy yet focused, as I dipped my quill into the ink.  

**Dear Grandfather,**  

It is me—Jessa Lia Valancaire, your granddaughter. I have awoken to memories I thought lost, and they have brought me back to you. I have learned what has happened over the past seven years, and though I do not know if you wish to associate yourself with me still, I feel I must write.  

I remember the lessons you shared, the wisdom you passed down, the philosophers you so often quoted. You once told me, “Strength is not born, but forged through fire.” I find myself at a crossroads now, desperate for guidance, and I am hoping you might still offer it.  

There is much I need to understand about myself and the ancient magic coursing through me. I believe you may hold the answers I seek. Please, Grandfather, if there is even a fragment of affection left for me, help me understand what I must do.  

I am hoping to hear back from you soon

Your granddaughter,  

**Jessa**  

With a steady hand, I sealed the letter with the intricate seal Valor had given me earlier. Its embossed crest shimmered faintly in the lamplight, a reminder of the Valancaire name and the weight it carried.  

Holding the letter in my hands, I hesitated for a moment, wondering how my grandfather might respond—or if he would respond at all. I sent the letter with a soft whisper of hope, watching as the enchanted owl took it and soared out into the dark, moonlit sky.  

The tower grew quiet once more as I settled into bed. My thoughts were still spinning, questions without answers. But for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a small flicker of direction—a sense that the pieces of the puzzle might finally start falling into place.  

I closed my eyes, hoping for the strength to face whatever awaited me.