The Daughter of Valancaire

**Jessa's POV**  

After the fun—albeit exhausting—trip to Hogsmeade, I hurried up to my dorm, eager to prepare for my first night of training at the Keep. Samantha wasn’t back yet, and I silently thanked Merlin for small blessings. If she were here, I’d be subjected to a full interrogation about my outing, and knowing her, it would take ages. I decided I’d fill her in *after* I returned.  

Grabbing my wand and some extra supplies, I pulled out a small pouch of floo powder I’d hidden in my trunk. After ensuring the room was quiet and empty, I sprinkled just enough into the fireplace and muttered, “The Keep.”  

The green flames roared to life, and I stepped inside, feeling the familiar tug as I was whisked away to my destination.  

As soon as I stepped out at the Keep, I was greeted by chaos—a barrage of spells hurtling straight at me.  

Eyes wide, my instincts took over. “Protego!” I shouted, the shield charm forming just in time to deflect a Stupefy. I ducked as a series of hexes ricocheted around me, sending sparks flying in every direction.  

A disarming spell zoomed toward my wand hand, but I twisted my wrist and countered it with a quick *Expelliarmus* of my own. Before I could take a breath, another spell came from my left. I sidestepped, feeling the rush of magic pass dangerously close.  

My heart pounded as I dove behind a nearby pillar for cover, quickly casting *Reparo* on a chunk of stone that had shattered from a missed curse. Another hex came soaring over my shoulder, and I rolled to the side, casting *Depulso* to knock over the heavy chest that served as my attacker’s hiding spot.  

Finally, the spells stopped. The room fell silent except for the faint crackle of residual magic in the air.  

I straightened up, panting slightly, as a familiar voice broke the silence.  

“Not bad, granddaughter,” it said, full of approval.  

I spun around to see my grandfather stepping into the room, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with something between amusement and pride.  

“Grandfather,” I said, still catching my breath. “What was *that* for?”  

He smirked, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked closer. “If you can’t even survive that,” he said calmly, “I don’t think we should start your training. But... you did. So come in.”  

I stared at him, my jaw tightening. “A simple *welcome* would’ve sufficed, you know.”  

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll find that your enemies won’t be so kind, Jessa. Consider it your first lesson.”  

Lesson? *That* was a lesson? If this was just the beginning, I had a feeling I was in for a very long night. 

_______

He ushered me to an empty room, the heavy wooden door creaking as it closed behind us. The room was dimly lit by floating lanterns, casting long, flickering shadows across the stone walls. In the center of the room was a circular space, marked by intricate runes etched into the floor. They glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat, as though alive with latent power.  

“Today, we will work on your focus,” my grandfather said, his voice low and steady. He gestured for me to approach the center of the room. “Ancient magic comes to you instinctively when you need it—like how it appeared during your first encounter with the troll in Hogsmeade.” He paused, his sharp eyes meeting mine. “But it didn’t when you faced the one in the tomb, did it?”  

I nodded, recalling the frustration and helplessness I’d felt in that moment.  

He stepped closer, the faint light catching the lines of his weathered face. “That’s because while ancient magic is innate, it requires mastery. Control. *Focus.*” He gestured toward the runes on the floor. “The magic is there, Jessa, waiting for you. But you must learn how to call upon it at will—not just when desperation strikes.”  

I looked at the runes, their faint blue glow seeming to beckon me. “How?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.  

He gave a faint smile and gestured toward the center. “Sit.”  

I hesitated for a moment before stepping into the circle. As I crossed the boundary of the etched runes, I felt a subtle shift in the air—like walking into a room filled with static. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I lowered myself onto the cold stone floor, crossing my legs.  

“Close your eyes,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

I obeyed, shutting out the flickering light and the weight of his presence.  

“Now, focus,” he said. His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Feel it—the magic inside you. It’s not something you summon with words or wands. It’s a part of you, woven into your very being.”  

I took a deep breath, my hands resting lightly on my knees. At first, all I could feel was my own heartbeat, steady and strong. But then, as I exhaled, I began to sense something else—a faint warmth, like the glow of embers deep within me.  

“Good,” he said softly, though I hadn’t spoken. “Now, let it grow. Imagine it spreading through you, flowing like a river. Don’t force it. Let it guide you.”  

I focused on that warmth, picturing it as golden light spreading through my chest, my arms, my fingertips. As I did, the runes beneath me began to hum, their glow intensifying. The static in the air grew stronger, and I could feel it thrumming through my skin.  

“It’s reacting to you,” my grandfather said, his voice filled with quiet pride. “You’re connecting with it. Now, draw it closer. Let it surge.”  

I furrowed my brow, focusing harder. The warmth within me began to pulse in time with the hum of the runes, growing brighter, stronger. It felt like I was holding a storm inside me—wild, untamed, and powerful.  

But just as quickly as it grew, it began to waver. I clenched my fists, trying to hold onto it, but the light flickered, dimming.  

“Stop!” my grandfather’s voice rang out sharply, startling me. I opened my eyes, gasping.  

The runes had stopped glowing, their light fading back into the stone. My grandfather knelt beside me, his hand on my shoulder. “You were trying to control it, to force it. That’s not how this works. Ancient magic isn’t meant to be restrained—it’s meant to be *channeled*. You must learn to be its guide, not its master.”  

I nodded, still catching my breath, my hands trembling slightly.  

“Again,” he said firmly. “And this time, trust yourself. Trust the magic.”  

I closed my eyes once more, determined to try again. This time, I would listen to it. I would feel it. And I would let it guide me. 

_______

The training continued relentlessly. Hours passed, each more grueling than the last, as I sat cross-legged within the rune circle. My grandfather’s voice was a constant presence, sometimes sharp with instruction, other times calm and encouraging, like the ebb and flow of a tide.  

Channeling ancient magic was nothing like casting spells. It wasn’t about words or wand movements—it required something far deeper: concentration, instinct, and an unyielding connection to the magic within me. It was as if I were reaching for something intangible, trying to catch mist with my bare hands.  

“Again,” my grandfather commanded.  

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I closed my eyes and tried to focus once more. The faint warmth I had felt earlier stirred inside me, like an ember struggling to catch fire. I breathed deeply, imagining the golden light spreading through my body. The runes beneath me flickered in response, their glow faint but growing.  

“Good,” he said, pacing the room. “Now hold it. Don’t force it. Let it flow through you.”  

I clenched my jaw, my mind a whirlwind of concentration. The magic was there, just beneath the surface, but it was slippery, elusive. Every time I tried to hold onto it, it wavered, like a flame threatened by a gust of wind.  

The runes pulsed brighter, and for a fleeting moment, I felt the magic surge through me. It was exhilarating, like standing at the edge of a storm and feeling the raw power of the wind and rain. My skin tingled, and my hands felt warm, almost hot, as if they were charged with energy.  

But then, just as quickly as it had come, it began to waver. My concentration broke, and the glow of the runes dimmed. I let out a frustrated sigh, slumping slightly.  

“Not steady,” my grandfather muttered, his voice tinged with disappointment. “But progress.”  

I looked up at him, my breathing heavy. “It’s so... difficult. I can feel it, but it slips away every time I try to hold onto it.”  

He knelt in front of me, his sharp gaze meeting mine. “Because you’re still thinking like a witch wielding a wand,” he said, his tone firm. “This isn’t about control. Ancient magic doesn’t obey commands. It responds to intent, to feeling. You must stop thinking and start trusting yourself—and the magic.”  

I nodded, though exhaustion was beginning to creep in. My limbs ached from sitting for so long, and my mind felt foggy, as if I’d been trying to solve an impossible riddle for hours.  

“Once more,” he said, rising to his feet.  

I swallowed my frustration and closed my eyes again. This time, I let go of the need to control it. Instead of reaching for the magic, I allowed it to come to me. I focused on the warmth, letting it grow naturally, like water flowing downhill.  

The runes began to glow again, their light steady and stronger than before. I felt the magic surge through me once more, and this time, I didn’t try to grasp it. I simply let it be, allowing it to flow through me, filling me with a sense of power and connection.  

“Better,” my grandfather said, his tone lighter now.  

But the strain of maintaining it was immense. My mind wavered, and the magic slipped away again, leaving me gasping for breath. The runes dimmed once more, their glow fading into the stone.  

My grandfather approached, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done well for tonight,” he said. “It’s not steady, but it’s progress—and progress is what matters. This isn’t something you’ll master overnight. It will take time, effort, and patience.”  

I nodded, too tired to speak. My entire body felt drained, as if the magic had sapped all my energy.  

“Rest now,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll continue. And you’ll do even better.”  

As I stood and stretched my stiff limbs, I felt a flicker of pride despite the exhaustion. I hadn’t mastered it, not yet, but I’d taken the first steps. And that was enough for now.
_____

It was well past midnight, and the common room was dimly lit, with only the flicker of the fireplace keeping the shadows at bay. My body felt like lead as I trudged up the stairs, clutching the ancient tomes my grandfather had given me to study. They were filled with stories, secrets, and histories not found in any Hogwarts library.  

When I entered my room, Samantha was already fast asleep, her steady breathing filling the silence. I collapsed onto my bed, the day’s events crashing down on me. Exhaustion gnawed at me, but it wasn’t just physical—my mind was heavy too. Valor’s words replayed in my head, his worry and sadness etched into his voice. The weight of it all, the training, the responsibilities, and now this strange new connection to ancient magic, made my chest tighten.  

I wanted to cry, but I was too tired. Instead, I curled up on the bed, still in my robes, and let the darkness pull me under.  

_____

Morning came too soon, Samantha’s gentle voice rousing me from sleep.  

“Jessa,” she said softly, shaking my shoulder. “We need to have breakfast. You still owe me stories about your *date*,” she teased, though her tone was kind as she noticed the exhaustion on my face. “But you should get ready now, so we’re not late to class.”  

I groaned, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. My muscles ached from last night’s training, and my mind still felt foggy. But Samantha’s warmth and patience made it easier to move. I quickly got dressed, pulling on my school robes, and joined her as we headed to the Great Hall.  

_____

When Samantha and I walked into the Great Hall the next morning, the chatter of students was lively as always, but my eyes immediately found my usual group at the Ravenclaw table. Natty and Poppy were sitting close, giggling over something on a piece of parchment. Meanwhile, Sebastian, Ominis, and Jace were all seated together, looking far too suspicious for this early in the morning.  

As soon as Jace caught sight of me, his brow furrowed, and he leaned forward with mock concern. “Well, well, little sister. You look like you’ve been hit by the wrong end of a Bludger. Must’ve been one *wild* date with Weasley.”  

I sighed, dropping into the seat beside him. “Oh, it wasn’t just Garreth, Jace. Let’s not forget my *second* play date with these two,” I said, tilting my head toward the culprits across the table.  

Sebastian, who was in the middle of sipping his juice, almost choked. “A *play date*? That’s offensive, Jessa. We’re more like…chaperones.”  

“*Chaperones?*” I repeated, giving him a flat look.  

Ominis, his face slightly pink, cleared his throat. “We were just being responsible. You know…keeping an eye out.”  

“Responsible?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You two followed us through Hogsmeade like a pair of mother hens. If you’re going to chaperone, at least be subtle about it.”  

Jace leaned back, smirking. “You two were spying? Merlin’s beard, that’s priceless.”  

Sebastian bristled. “We weren’t spying. We were…coincidentally in the same places. That’s all.”  

“Oh, *coincidentally*,” I said, folding my arms. “Because it’s completely normal to ‘coincidentally’ end up at The Three Broomsticks before we even arrived.”  

Poppy giggled, whispering something to Natty, who glanced at Sebastian and Ominis with a knowing look. “I’m sure it was all very coincidental,” Natty teased.  

Jace, never one to let an opportunity for mischief slip by, grinned. “What’s the matter, Sallow? Were you worried Weasley might outshine you?”  

Sebastian’s cheeks flushed, and he looked ready to retort, but I cut him off. “Okay, boys, enough. I’m too tired for this. Besides,” I added, leveling a look at Jace, “you’re hardly one to talk about being protective.”  

He shrugged, not the least bit fazed. “It’s my job as your older brother. You’ve got enough chaos in your life without adding a reckless Gryffindor to the mix.”  

“Funny,” I said, smirking. “That sounds like *exactly* what I already have, considering these two,” I said, gesturing to Sebastian and Ominis.  

Sebastian gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ungrateful. That’s what you are, Jessa. We *fed* you last night, remember?”  

“True,” I said with a mock-thoughtful nod. “And to be fair, it was a nice dinner. And I really liked our detour to Honeydukes, where you both proceeded to buy out half the shop.”  

Ominis, who had been quiet up until now, turned an impressive shade of red. “I didn’t buy *that* much,” he mumbled.  

“Oh, didn’t you?” I teased, smirking. “I seem to recall you needing an extra bag just for the chocolates.”  

“Speaking of which...”  

I began pulling out the carefully wrapped treats I’d picked out at Honeydukes. “For you, Natty,” I said, handing her a beautifully wrapped box. “I know you’ve been wanting to try this.”  

Her eyes lit up as she unwrapped it. “Chocoballs! Oh, Jessa, thank you! These are my favorite!”  

“For you, Poppy,” I said next, pulling out a box of sugar quills. “I thought they suited you perfectly.”  

Poppy clapped her hands together in delight. “These are adorable! You’re so thoughtful, Jessa.”  

Then, I turned to Jace, who was watching with an amused expression. “And for you, dear brother...” I handed him a perfectly wrapped cauldron cake.  

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not going to let me live down that dessert debate with Sebastian, are you?”  

Sebastian snorted. “Definitely not. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”  

I smirked and reached for another package. “For Anne,” I said, handing Sebastian a carefully chosen assortment of sweets. “I thought she might like these.”  

Sebastian’s expression softened immediately, his teasing demeanor replaced with gratitude. “Thanks, Jessa. She’ll love them.”  

Then, I turned to Ominis, who was trying very hard to look indifferent. “And for you, Ominis...” I handed him a box of assorted chocolates. “Since you apparently have the biggest sweet tooth of us all.”  

His cheeks flushed a deep pink. “I do not have a sweet tooth,” he mumbled, though he clutched the box as if it were a rare treasure.  

Sebastian leaned closer to me, his voice low but teasing. “You should see his stash. I bet he has an entire drawer dedicated to sweets.”  

Ominis shot him a sharp look. “You’re one to talk, Sallow.”  

The table erupted in laughter, and even Ominis eventually cracked a smile.  

As the laughter subsided, I pulled out a small box of peppermint toads and handed them to Samantha. “And for you, Samantha. Thanks for always being such a kind roommate. I thought you might enjoy these.”  

Samantha’s face lit up with delight. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Jessa! But thank you so much!”  

I turned back to Sebastian and placed a wrapped box of fizzing whizzbees in front of him. “And for you, Sebastian. I didn’t want you to feel left out.”  

Sebastian raised a brow, smirking. “You know, you didn’t have to get *me* anything either. Especially since Ominis and I were there when you bought all this.”  

Ominis nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “He’s right. We were literally with you at Honeydukes.”  

I shrugged, smirking. “And yet, here I am, giving you chocolates anyway. You’re welcome.”  

Sebastian chuckled, holding up the box. “I’m not complaining. Thanks, Jessa.”  

As we all reached for platters of breakfast, I felt the warmth of being surrounded by my friends and brother. Moments like this, filled with laughter and easy camaraderie, made the exhaustion and challenges of the past day completely worth it.

_____

As we made our way out of the Great Hall, Jace sidled up to me, flashing that sly grin he always wore when he had a secret. Without missing a beat, he slipped a small vial into my hand. A soft, silvery liquid sloshed inside.

“An Invigorating Draught,” he whispered, careful that the others didn’t hear. “Figured you could use it with how you’ve been looking lately. You know… for all that extra stuff you’re doing.” There was genuine concern in his eyes, though he masked it behind his usual teasing. “Just don’t forget to tell me what’s going on, okay?”

I nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” I murmured, tucking the vial into my pocket. If only he knew just how much I needed it. My body still ached from the grueling training sessions at the Keep, and sleep had been little more than a fleeting memory. But I forced a smile and carried on, not wanting to worry him more than necessary.

Unfortunately, Sebastian’s sharp gaze caught the exchange. He arched an eyebrow, a flicker of concern crossing his features. 

“What’s going on with you, Jessa? You’re not just tired from Hogsmeade. I’ve seen you fight a troll and come out looking fresher than this. Today, you look like you’ve tussled with ten trolls.”

I sighed. There was no easy way to explain without revealing everything. “I just… didn’t sleep well,” I said, keeping my voice carefully neutral. “Honestly, it’s no big deal.”

Sebastian frowned, but Ominis, trailing a step behind. He changed the subject, reminding us about our upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts class. According to rumor, we’d be covering dark wizards and the advanced curses they used, which had his nerves on edge.

Natty, walking beside me, flinched slightly at the mention of dark wizards. I instantly picked up on her sudden tension.

“Natty?” I asked gently, leaning closer so only she could hear. “Are you alright?”

She swallowed, offering me a shaky smile. “I’m fine. It’s just… can we talk later, Jessa? I have something I need to tell you.”

My concern deepened, but I nodded. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

Just then, a flash of ginger hair caught my eye—Garreth Weasley appeared from around the corner, sporting a bright grin. Immediately, Samantha and Poppy exchanged knowing looks, practically vibrating with excitement at the sight of him. I tried not to blush, remembering the walk to Hogsmeade from the day before.

“Hey, Jessa,” Garreth said cheerfully as he reached us. “I had a great time yesterday.” His eyes lit up when they landed on me, and I felt a warm flush creep across my cheeks. 

“I, uh… thought you might like this.” He handed me a small, neatly tied pouch. A subtle, floral scent wafted from it.

 “Remember that ingredient you mentioned? I was able to get some. Figured you could use it for potions.”

My eyes flicked down to the pouch, noticing a folded note pinned beneath the twine. He gave me a quick, mischievous wink, and I couldn’t suppress a short laugh.

“That’s very thoughtful, Garreth,” I managed, aware of the eyes on us. “Thank you.”

Behind me, Samantha was all but squealing, and I could practically feel Sebastian and Ominis bristling. Garreth, completely unbothered, gave another grin, then bid us farewell.

No sooner had he turned the corner than the teasing barrage began.

“Is that a… love note?” Poppy asked in a stage whisper, pointing at the tiny scrap of parchment peeking out of the pouch.

My cheeks burned hotter. “It’s just ingredients,” I insisted, hugging the pouch close. “He remembered I was curious about them. That’s all.”

Samantha latched onto my arm, her eyes shining. “He’s so sweet, Jessa! And you totally have to tell me what that note says.”

Meanwhile, the boys—Sebastian, Ominis, and Jace—looked on with varying expressions of skepticism and displeasure.

“What’s in it?” Sebastian asked, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly.

“Potion ingredients,” I replied, shaking the pouch lightly. “Nothing lethal, I promise. Garreth might be reckless, but he’s not that reckless.”

They exchanged pointed glances, but in a rare turn of events, none of them had a witty quip at the ready—just a collective sulky pout. Oddly enough, I found that almost comforting. At least they weren’t launching into jealous remarks.

As we resumed our walk toward class, I couldn’t help but reflect on the strange dynamic forming around me. I knew deep down that Ominis, Sebastian, and Garreth were all decent people—maybe they could get along just fine if given the chance. But for now, juggling them and my ever-growing list of responsibilities felt like a full-time job. Still, for better or worse, these were my friends, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

______

As we entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The walls were lined with dark creature skulls and aged tomes, and the ever-watchful gaze of Professor Hecat followed us as we settled into our seats. The air crackled with energy—it was always like this before a lesson that promised excitement or danger.  

Professor Hecat strode to the center of the room, her robes billowing slightly as she surveyed us. “Today, we will discuss a topic that is essential for every skilled duelist and defender of the wizarding world—Dark Wizards.”  

A murmur spread through the class, some students exchanging nervous glances. I noticed Natty stiffen beside me. I remembered her request to speak later, and my concern for her deepened.  

“Throughout history,” Professor Hecat continued, “Dark Wizards have sought power, wealth, and control through means both cruel and cunning. Many of them—” she flicked her wand, and a series of portraits appeared in the air, depicting infamous Dark Wizards from different eras, “—used the Unforgivable Curses, ancient magic, and forbidden alchemy to impose their will upon others.”  

I watched as the spectral images flickered above us, their eyes cold and calculating. One of them bore a striking resemblance to a name I had come across in my readings—Rookwood. Another, an unfamiliar yet eerie face, made my stomach churn uncomfortably.  

“Can anyone tell me what sets a Dark Wizard apart from any other skilled duelist?” Professor Hecat asked, her sharp gaze scanning the room.  

Sebastian’s hand shot up instantly. “Intent, Professor. It’s not just about the spells they use, but the reason behind their magic.”  

Professor Hecat gave an approving nod. “Correct, Mr. Sallow. Spells in themselves are not inherently evil—it is the purpose, the will behind them, that determines whether a witch or wizard strays into darkness.”  

Her eyes landed on me. “Miss Valancaire, can you provide an example of a spell often associated with Dark Magic that may not always be used for malevolent purposes?”  

I thought for a moment before answering, “Legilimency, Professor. It allows one to see into another’s mind, but it can be used for understanding rather than manipulation.”  

Professor Hecat smiled slightly. “Very good. Many forms of magic can straddle the line between light and dark. It is how we choose to wield them that defines us.”  

She flicked her wand again, and suddenly, a dueling platform rose from the floor. My pulse quickened.  

“Now, for today’s practical lesson. We will be practicing countering Dark spells. For this, I will need a few volunteers.”  

Predictably, Sebastian stepped forward with confidence, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a fight. Ominis, beside me, sighed. “Of course, he volunteered.”  

Professor Hecat smirked slightly. “Very well. Sallow, since you seem so eager, you will be the first to demonstrate.”  

Sebastian turned, looking around the room, his eyes settling on me. A slow grin spread across his face.  

“Jessa, how about a little friendly match?”  

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Friendly? I don’t trust that grin of yours, Bas.”  

The class chuckled, and even Ominis huffed in amusement.  

Professor Hecat nodded. “Miss Valancaire, do you accept the challenge?”  

I sighed dramatically but stepped forward, wand at the ready. “Let’s get this over with.”  

We took our places on the platform. Professor Hecat lifted her wand, and with a sharp motion, sent sparks into the air. “Begin!”  

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He shot a **Confringo** in my direction, a fiery blast racing toward me. I barely had time to react before instinct kicked in—I dodged and cast **Protego**, absorbing the impact just in time.  

“Oh, so we’re starting off strong, huh?” I shot back.  

Sebastian smirked. “Would you expect anything less?”  

I countered with **Expelliarmus**, but he sidestepped it easily, firing a **Depulso** to knock me backward. I stumbled slightly, but my wand flicked quickly as I retaliated with **Glacius**, freezing part of the dueling stage beneath his feet.  

Sebastian yelped, slipping momentarily, and I took advantage of his loss of footing.  

**Stupefy!**  

The stunning spell hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backward. The class gasped, but he twisted mid-air and landed on his feet, looking thoroughly impressed.  

“Well done, Jessa,” he admitted, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll admit—I almost felt that one.”  

“Almost?” I scoffed. “Want me to try again?”  

Professor Hecat clapped her hands. “That’s enough, you two. An excellent demonstration. Well-fought, both of you.”  

As the duel ended, I saw a few students whispering to each other, impressed by our exchange. Even Natty and Poppy looked at me with newfound admiration.  

As I returned to my spot, Ominis shook his head. “You’re encouraging him, you know.”  

I smirked. “I like to keep him on his toes.”  

Sebastian, catching that, shot me a wink.  

The rest of the lesson continued with more students practicing counterspells, but my mind kept drifting—to the battle, to the talk with Natty later, and to the feeling of magic thrumming beneath my skin.  

The day had only just begun, and I had the distinct feeling that things were about to get even more interesting.

_______

The chatter of eager students still lingered in the corridors as I stepped out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. My heart was still drumming with the lingering excitement from the duel with Sebastian, but my mind quickly shifted gears to a far more pressing matter—my grandfather’s training.

I needed to talk to my brothers—Jace, Vix, and Valor. I knew they’d want an update on how things were going at the Keep, especially after how worried they’d been. So I headed down the winding staircase, weaving past clusters of students until I spotted them near a window overlooking the courtyard.

Jace was the first to notice me, his blonde hair catching the sunlight, arms folded in that casual, older-brother way of his. Vix and Valor stood beside him, their expressions shifting from easy chatter to concern when they saw me approaching.

“Jessa,” Jace said, stepping forward, his green eyes scanning my face. “Everything alright? You look… winded.”

I let out a small laugh, still catching my breath from the intense duel and the hurried walk through the castle. “Nothing serious. Just had a spirited round of spell-flinging in DADA.” I paused, glancing at all three of them in turn. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

Vix arched an eyebrow. “Alright, out with it.”

I took a steadying breath. “It’s about Grandfather’s training.”

That one word—Grandfather—made each of them straighten. Valor’s gaze flicked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, and he nodded for me to continue.

We moved to a quieter alcove, the sounds of the bustling hallway fading just enough for us to talk in relative privacy. The flickering torchlight cast shadows against the cold stone walls, heightening the gravity of the conversation.

“I started last night,” I said softly, not wanting to broadcast it to passing students. “It’s… intense. He launched spells at me the moment I arrived. No warning, no greeting. Just a barrage of hexes and curses.”

Valor’s jaw tensed. “That sounds like him,” he said quietly. “He’s big on the ‘sink or swim’ approach.”

I nodded grimly. “Exactly. He called it my ‘first lesson.’ I barely had time to cast Protego before the next curse hit.”

Vix shook his head, muttering a curse under his breath. “Jessa, this is exactly what we were worried about—he’s pushing you too hard, too fast.”

“It was… rough,” I admitted, thinking back to how my heart pounded against my ribcage. “But I held my own. Afterward, we worked on focusing ancient magic. That part was even more exhausting, in a whole different way.”

Jace laid a hand on my shoulder, concern etched on his face. “He made you summon it on command?”

My shoulders sagged a bit. “Or try, at least. It wasn’t steady. He told me it’ll take time, but that I did ‘adequately’ for a first attempt.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Grandfather’s cold, measured praise still reverberated in my mind.

Vix and Valor exchanged glances. Valor spoke up, his tone measured. “And you’re sure you can handle this? Balancing daily classes and nightly training?”

I forced a reassuring smile. “I’m doing my best. I slept terribly last night, but I’ll manage.”

Jace’s expression was grim. “Just keep us updated, Jessa. If he pushes you too far, we’ll—”

I held up a hand, cutting him off. “I know. You’ll march into the Keep and give him a piece of your mind.” I huffed a small laugh. “But it won’t come to that. At least, I hope not.”

The four of us stood there for a moment, the unspoken worries buzzing in the silence. I glanced around, noticing a few curious students passing by, eyeing us like they knew we were plotting something secret. I cleared my throat.

“I’d better head to my next class soon,” I said. “But I wanted you to know how it went.”

Vix sighed. “We appreciate it. Just… watch yourself.”

Valor took a step closer, his green eyes reflecting worry. “If you need anything, anything, you tell us. Understood?”

I nodded, offering them a small, grateful smile. “Understood.”

Jace squeezed my shoulder gently. “We’re here for you, Jess. Always.”

With that, we parted ways. I left them huddled together, likely hashing out contingency plans if things spiraled, while I merged back into the stream of students heading to class. My steps felt heavier, but my resolve was stronger. I had training, secrets, and an ever-growing sense that something big was looming on the horizon—but at least I wasn’t facing it alone.

_____

On my way to my next class, my mind still half-lost in the conversation I’d just had with my brothers, I spotted Ominis and Sebastian across the corridor. They were leaning in close, voices a low hiss of an argument. My steps slowed. I had never seen Ominis look quite so ruffled—his usually composed demeanor replaced by a furrowed brow and tense posture. Meanwhile, Sebastian’s jaw was clenched, frustration evident in his eyes.

As I got closer, I could just make out Ominis’s heated whisper. “No, you can’t, Sebastian!”

Before Sebastian could respond, he spotted me. His entire expression closed off in an instant, and with a sharp turn, he stalked away without so much as a glance in my direction. Ominis stood there, hands flexing at his sides, his wand still glowing faintly red as he tried to steady himself.

I quickened my pace, concern rising. “Ominis, what happened?” I asked softly, not wanting to draw more attention than the two of them had already gathered.

Ominis exhaled, pulling his shoulders back and pasting on a thin, unconvincing smile. “It’s… nothing, Jessa. Just a little disagreement. Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head, the tension in his voice betraying the calm facade he was trying to maintain.

I opened my mouth to press further, but I caught the slight tremor in his hands. Something about the way he refused to meet my gaze sent a chill skittering down my spine.

Then, without warning, the flash of memories from the pensive in the tomb swept through my mind: Ominis standing between Sebastian and me, his voice trembling with fury; Sebastian’s wand raised in anger, the accusation in his eyes; the ache of betrayal and desperation thick in the air.

My stomach twisted at the recollection. That future—that outcome—couldn’t really be set in stone, could it?

“Jessa?” Ominis’s voice brought me back to the present. The false smile was still on his face, but his brow was creased in worry. “Are you alright?”

I swallowed hard, trying to dispel the lingering image. “Yeah,” I managed, my heart still thudding in my chest. “I’m fine. Just… lost in thought.”

He nodded, clearly unconvinced but not pressing. “We should get to class,” he said quietly. “Professor Garlick won’t appreciate us being late.”

“Right,” I said, forcing a small smile in return. But as we walked side by side, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the strained argument I’d witnessed might be just the tip of an iceberg we were all hurtling toward—and those flashes from the pensive felt ominously closer than ever.

________

Herbology Class

The warm, humid air of the greenhouse wrapped around us as we entered Herbology class. The scent of damp earth and budding leaves was usually comforting, but today it felt heavy. My mind was still reeling from the argument I’d witnessed between Sebastian and Ominis.

“Where is Sebastian, anyway?” Poppy asked, lining up beside a large pot of Bouncing Bulbs. “He’s usually here before class starts.”

Natty frowned, brushing a stray vine from her robes. “That is strange.”

I shrugged, glancing over my shoulder at Ominis, who was handling a tray of seedlings nearby. He wore that same distant expression—an echo of the tension I sensed earlier. He didn’t look up.

Something is definitely going on, I thought. The flashes of the pensive memory still haunted me: the argument, the desperation in Sebastian’s eyes, the looming darkness. The feeling that it was all creeping closer pressed on my mind.

After class, I decided to look for Sebastian. My first stop was the library—his usual haunt when he was troubled. But a quick scan of the desks and shelves revealed no sign of him.

I paused, running through the possibilities. If he’s not in class, not in the library… then he’s almost certainly in the Undercroft.

Sure enough, the moment I stepped through the hidden entrance, I heard pacing footsteps. The torchlight cast flickering shadows across the cavernous walls, illuminating Sebastian’s grim figure. He moved restlessly, his posture tense, his eyes dark.

He didn’t look at me, but I knew he sensed my presence. I took a few cautious steps forward.

“Sebastian…?”

His eyes flickered up, and for a moment, I saw the same tortured expression I’d glimpsed in those ominous memories. “Anne is getting worse, Jessa,” he said, voice strained. “She’s in constant pain, and… I’m running out of options.”

I swallowed, my concern spiking. “Have you talked to Ominis? Does he know anything new?”

A flash of anger crossed Sebastian’s face. “He doesn’t understand,” he muttered, his voice low. “He’s too worried about what’s forbidden or dark. He can’t see that Anne needs any help we can find.”

Without warning, another wave of those memories surged in my mind—Anne’s grave, Ominis and Sebastian screaming at each other, the desperation etched on all our faces.

“Sebastian,” I began softly, “what don’t I understand here? What are you planning?”

He turned to me fully now, eyes burning with determination. “I read about something—somewhere that might hold a clue to helping Anne. The Scriptorium.”

I frowned. “The Scriptorium? Isn’t that rumored to be a—”

“A place of Dark magic? Yes,” Sebastian answered, his tone clipped. “But if there’s any chance it can lead to a cure, I have to try. Anne’s running out of time.”

My heart twisted at the desperation in his voice. “Sebastian, you realize this is dangerous, right? You could open something far beyond our control.”

“I know,” he snapped, then seemed to catch himself. His shoulders sagged. “I know,” he repeated, calmer this time. “But Anne needs help, Jessa. If Ominis would only listen… He knows how to open it. Or at least, he knows more than he’s letting on.”

I studied his face—haunted, guilty, determined. This was the Sebastian I feared in my visions: willing to tread darkness for Anne’s sake. Yet I also saw the friend who cared deeply, the one who wasn’t beyond reason.

“I…” I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. “I’ll talk to him, okay? But you have to promise me you won’t do anything reckless on your own.”

He sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you, Jessa. Really. I… I won’t. Not yet.”

His eyes softened, like the Sebastian I knew returned for just a moment.

“Be brilliant, Don’t listen to your heart.”

My mind echoed with my grandfather’s words—two separate warnings from different corners of my life.

I nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’ll do my best,” I whispered, though inside, my thoughts whirled. The Scriptorium… Dark magic… Ominis and Sebastian at odds… The future was unraveling in front of me, and I needed to act quickly before the threads tangled into something irreparable.

______

After leaving Sebastian at the Undercroft—he’d insisted on lingering to read more runes—I headed back down the winding corridor, mind whirling with what he’d told me. The torches along the walls flickered, sending our shadows dancing in the dim light. I was so lost in thought that I nearly bumped into Ominis, who was standing there, wand in hand, wearing an expression of deep worry.

He sensed me approach—even in the darkness, he could always tell. “Jessa,” he said, an urgent note in his voice. “We need to talk.”

Without another word, he guided me into a small alcove, well away from wandering eyes and ears. With a swift flick of his wand, he cast Silencio around us. The faint red glow of his wand pulsed in time with his agitated breathing.

“He told you, didn’t he?” Ominis asked, voice taut. “Sebastian wants to enter the Scriptorium.”

I nodded, my heart tightening at the pain in his voice. “He says there might be something in there—something to help Anne.”

Ominis let out a shaky breath. “He can’t go in there, Jessa. My aunt, Noctua Gaunt—she tried to explore the Scriptorium. She believed there were secrets left behind by Salazar Slytherin himself. She was sending letters to my father, keeping him updated on her progress…until one day, she just disappeared. No word, no trace.”

Shock coursed through me. “Ominis…I’m so sorry.” I could see the tension in his brow, the old grief and fear.

He swallowed, his expression twisting into raw hurt. “That place is dangerous. Sebastian doesn’t understand—he only sees a potential cure for Anne. But dark magic is never the right path.”

A flash of memory from the pensive jolted through my mind—Sebastian’s desperation, Ominis’s fury, Anne’s suffering. It was too close, too real. Gently, I reached out and placed my hand on Ominis’s cheek, feeling the slight tremor in his jaw.

“We won’t let him be in danger,” I whispered. “I care about Anne, too. But Sebastian can’t face this alone.”

Ominis closed his eyes, inhaling shakily. “This is too much, Jessa. The Dark Arts…they can’t be the answer.”

“I know,” I said firmly. “But you know Sebastian—once he sets his mind on something, he won’t stop. What if he decides to go alone, without anyone’s help or supervision?”

He was silent for a moment, obviously torn. “Jessa…” he began, voice rough.

I took a breath. “Ominis, there’s something else. I might have a lead—another way to help Anne. But I need time to make sure. I can’t tell Sebastian yet; I don’t want to give him false hope.”

“You have a solution?” Ominis asked, brow knitting.

“Not a solution,” I corrected gently. “Just…a possibility. And yes, I need time.”

He exhaled slowly, nodding. “So you want to buy Sebastian time. Keep him from rushing into the Scriptorium alone.”

I chewed my lip, thinking of the surest way. “He’s going in, Ominis—we both know that. What if the best option is that we go with him? At least, this way, we can keep him safe and…keep each other safe, too. Maybe we’ll even learn what really happened to your aunt.”

Ominis’s expression flickered with uncertainty, but resolve slowly replaced it. “Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll do it. I’ll open it.”

I managed a small, relieved smile. “Thank you. We can’t let him wander into that place alone. I’m here with you, okay?”

A shadow passed over his face, but he gave a short nod. “Let’s find him then. He was in the Undercroft earlier, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I said, dropping my hand from his cheek. “He’s probably still there.”

We slipped into the Undercroft, its hidden arches and cool air welcoming as always, though today it felt charged with tension. Sure enough, Sebastian was there—pacing near the center, wand in hand, gaze distant. He whipped around the moment we entered, relief mingling with a flicker of defensiveness.

He glanced at Ominis, then at me. “Well?” he asked, voice tight. “Did you talk to him?”

Ominis nodded, his wand emitting a gentle red glow. “Yes, Sebastian. I’ll help you open the Scriptorium.”

Sebastian’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked almost dizzy with relief. “So you won’t listen to me,” he said, directing a half-accusatory glare at Ominis, “but you’ll listen to Jessa? I practically begged you.”

Ominis’s cheeks colored, but he lifted his chin. “She reasoned with me, not hissed at me.”

Sebastian was about to snap back when I stepped in, raising my hands. “Okay, enough. We all know the risks, and we’re all in this. Right?” I looked between them. They both nodded.

“When?” Ominis asked.

“As soon as possible. Tonight.” Sebastian said, taking a shaky breath.

“But not alone, with the three of us and not without a plan.” Ominis said with hesitation laced his tone

I bit my lip, a thousand thoughts racing through my head. I have training tonight, with my grandfather. But…I can delay. Or at least write him a note telling him I’ll be late.

Sebastian caught my eye, the same desperation I’d seen before softening momentarily into gratitude. “Thank you, Jessa. You too, Ominis.”

Ominis nodded tersely, wand hand tightening. “We do this together, then. And if it gets too dangerous—”

Sebastian huffed but agreed. “We pull out. Fine.”

For a moment, the three of us stood in uneasy camaraderie, the faint echo of drips from the ancient pipes overhead reminding me just how quickly things were spiraling. I remembered the flickers of the future—pain, curses, heartbreak. But maybe, just maybe, this was the path that could change it.

“All right,” I said, straightening my spine. “Let’s do this. Carefully.”

And as we parted ways, each heading off to make our own preparations, I couldn’t help the knot of anxiety in my stomach. Careful was always the plan. But with Sebastian’s determination, Ominis’s fear, and my own secrets…I had a feeling careful might be the first thing to go.

_______

The moment I stepped into my dormitory, I felt the urgency of the situation pressing down on me like an invisible weight. The faint glow of the setting sun outside cast long shadows across the stone floor. Time was running short, and there were so many pieces to juggle—my training with Grandfather, the looming trip to the Scriptorium, and, of course, my plan to brew a potion that might help Anne.

I wasted no time. Dropping my bag on my bed, I rummaged for parchment and quill. My heart was hammering so loudly it nearly drowned out my own thoughts. I dipped the quill in ink and began scribbling a hasty note:

Grandfather,

Apologies, but I’ll be late for our training tonight. My professors have assigned extra work, and I must stay after class. I promise not to miss our session entirely. Please excuse me for my tardiness.

—Jessa

It felt wrong to lie so brazenly, but I had no choice. Folding the parchment, I pressed the Valancaire seal onto a dollop of hot wax. My stomach churned at the deception, but I reminded myself it was for a good reason. One quick whistle, and my owl fluttered down from its perch, extending a leg for me to attach the letter. I watched it fly off, the burden of that lie weighing heavily in my chest.

Anxious energy coiled in my stomach as I turned back to my desk. I needed to brew the diagnostic potion soon—Essentia Veritas—and for that, I required several ingredients from the Forbidden Forest. My pulse quickened at the thought. If I got them, maybe I really could help Anne.

I opened the small note Garreth had slipped in with the pouch earlier, the corners of my mouth quirking into a tired smile:

Jessa,

Ready whenever you are. Just say the word, and we’ll go get those ingredients.

—Garreth

I read it twice, relief and apprehension mingling. “Tomorrow night,” I decided under my breath. There was a particular flower—Nightshade Bloom—that only emerged under moonlight. Perfect for the potion. Quickly, I penned another note:

Garreth,

Let’s go tomorrow night. I need an ingredient that only appears after dusk. Meet me by the old greenhouse.

—Jessa

I sealed it with a simple wax stamp—no sense in using the family seal for something so clandestine—and sent it off with another owl. My hands were shaking slightly as I did. Slow down, Jessa, I told myself. Breathe.

But there was no slowing down. My mind churned with worries about the Scriptorium. I couldn’t help but recall Ominis’s stricken face when he spoke of his aunt Noctua disappearing. And Sebastian’s fierce resolve—he was determined to do anything for Anne’s sake, no matter the risk. We need to keep him safe.

Crossing the room, I began gathering supplies for tonight’s Scriptorium trip. My battered satchel would have to do. Into it, I packed a few vials of Wiggenweld Potion and a handful of other brews I’d been practicing—maybe they’d come in handy if things went south. Next, I stuffed in a wrapped parcel of bread and dried fruit, just in case we were stuck there longer than expected. Better prepared than sorry.

The reality of it all pressed in on me. My training with Grandfather was already draining me physically and mentally—and now I was about to delve into a place rumored to be rife with Dark magic. You can do this, Jessa, I told myself, trying to steady my breathing. You have to.

I clutched the strap of my satchel, staring at the items I’d laid out. My heart felt like it was caught between excitement and dread. Everything’s unraveling. My brother’s warning flickered in my mind, as did Sebastian’s plea, and Ominis’s fear-filled confession about his aunt. They all needed me in different ways.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep, trembling breath. I need to be strong, I thought. For Anne. For Sebastian. For Ominis, Jace, Vix, Valor—and for myself.

With my satchel packed, I flicked my wand, extinguishing the lantern on my desk. Night was falling fast, and there was no escaping the tide of events I’d set in motion. Tomorrow, the Forbidden Forest. Tonight, the Scriptorium. And always, Grandfather’s training looming just beyond the horizon.

I pressed my hand against the cool stone of the wall, letting the chill ground me. Be brilliant, and don’t follow your heart, I reminded myself in a whisper.