Capítulo 33: Chapter 33 - The Prince’s Legacy
Serena's slender figure glided through the grand halls of Prince Manor, her curiosity as insatiable as her predecessor's obsession with potion-making. The manor, with its towering ceilings and ancient artifacts, echoed the grandeur of a bygone era. She trailed her fingers across the spines of books in the grand library, the scent of parchment and leather mingling with the faint sweet smell of daffodils that seemed to follow her.
She'd spent the morning acquainting herself with the manor's many secrets, from the whispering armory that held enchanted weapons of old to the kitchens where Nitty, the house elf in charge, had offered her a dizzying array of treats. Her exploration was not just a journey through space but through time, as the manor held remnants of her family's past, and through it, perhaps clues to her own future.
The gardens had been her first venture, where the air was crisp and the scent of rain-soaked earth was strong. Yuru, the main house elf servant, had been meticulous in his introduction of every rosebush and fountain, his pride in the Prince's estate evident. Yet, Serena felt an inexplicable pull towards the stables, an area of the manor she had yet to explore.
As she approached the library windows, her gaze fell upon the dark shapes of the thestrals in the distance. She paused, her breath catching. She hadn't seen death in this life, yet there they were, visible to her, a stark reminder of her past life's burdens. With trepidation and awe, she made her way toward the stables, her heart thrumming in her chest.
As she stood in silence, observing the thestrals, a soft voice broke her reverie.
"Miss Serena?" The voice was timid, yet carried the warmth of the summer sun.
Serena turned to find Enni, the house elf in charge of the gardens and thestrals, looking up at her with large, curious eyes. Enni's surprise was evident; not many could see the creatures she cared for so deeply.
"I can see them," Serena admitted, her voice a mere whisper. Though she didn't explain how that came to be, Enni didn't press.
The house elf nodded, her expression softening. "You have a kind soul, Miss Serena. It's rare to meet someone who understands the thestrals. They tend to avoid them."
Together, they talked, and Serena learned of Enni's duties and the care she provided to the magical creatures. As the afternoon sun cast long shadows over the grounds, Bowe, Serena's ever-present bowtruckle companion, emerged from her pocket, his curiosity piqued by the gentle thestrals.
The creatures, sensing the innocence and playfulness of the tiny being, lowered their heads, allowing Bowe to clamber onto their skeletal frames. Serena watched, a rare smile gracing her lips, as Bowe interacted with the thestrals, a bridge between worlds, just as she was.
In this moment, amidst the ancient magic of her family's estate, Serena felt a connection to her past and her present. It was a poignant reminder that life, in all its forms, was a tapestry of experiences, woven together across time and space, and she was a thread in the intricate design of her own fate.
~~~
The fading daylight cast elongated shadows along the stables of Prince Manor as Serena bid farewell to Enni, her heart a little lighter from the interaction with the gentle thestrals and the playful antics of Bowe. She turned her attention to the task at hand: visiting her grandmother, Gwendoline Prince.
Each day since her arrival at the manor, Serena had carved out a portion of time to spend at the bedside of her ailing grandmother. It was a solemn commitment, a silent promise to utilize her unique Omegan magic — the Healing Touch — in hopes of easing her grandmother's suffering.
With a deep breath, Serena strode down the corridors, her footsteps echoing off the high walls adorned with ancestral portraits. The faces of generations of Princes stared back at her, their expressions ranging from haughty to contemplative, each canvas a silent testament to the legacy she had inherited. She often wondered if the eyes of her forebears followed her, weighing her worthiness as the heir to such a storied bloodline. Most likely.
Upon reaching the heavy oak door of Gwendoline's chambers, Serena gently pushed it open. The room was imbued with a soft golden light, the result of the setting sun casting its rays through the sheer curtains. In the center, the figure of Gwendoline Prince lay propped up on a nest of pillows, her once vibrant eyes now clouded with the weariness of age and illness.
"Grandmother," Serena greeted softly, approaching the bedside with the grace of a doe. Her voice, though quiet, seemed to stir something in the old lady, whose lips curved into a faint smile at the sight of her granddaughter.
"My dear Serena," Gwendoline whispered, her voice a rustling of dry leaves. "Come, sit beside me."
Serena took her usual seat, the chair that had become her throne of healing. She reached for her grandmother's frail hand, enveloping it in her own, and closed her eyes to concentrate. A warm glow emanated from her palms, infusing the air with the soft sweet scent of daffodils — the hallmark of her Omegan magic.
She poured her energy into the task, her mind focused on mending and soothing. Under her touch, Gwendoline's tense features softened, the lines of pain and fatigue smoothing out as if brushed by an invisible painter.
It had been three weeks of daily ministrations, and Serena could see the tangible improvements in her grandmother's health. With each visit, Gwendoline's spirit seemed to revive, like a flower after a nourishing rain, her eyes brighter and her voice stronger.
This was what mattered to Serena — the chance to provide comfort, to give back to the family that she had only just come to know. It was a different kind of magic than the one she had wielded as Severus Snape, less about potions and spells, and more about the raw, healing power of empathy and care.
As the Healing Touch waned and Serena opened her eyes, she met her grandmother's gaze, which held a newfound clarity. "Thank you, my child," Gwendoline murmured, her gratitude apparent.
The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening as Gwendoline beckoned Serena closer to her bedside. "Tell me, my dear, how was your day?" she inquired, her voice steady and filled with genuine interest.
Serena settled into the familiar chair, a smile tugging at her lips. "I went exploring," she began, her enthusiasm evident. "The library held a trove of books that caught my eye. I'm looking forward to losing myself in them."
She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And I met Enni by the stables."
Gwendoline's eyes twinkled with delight. "Ah, the thestrals. Magnificent creatures, aren't they? And Enni, she's quite dedicated to her work. It's good that you're making connections, even with the elves."
Conversation flowed easily between them, a stark contrast to the cold exterior Serena often presented to the world. It was with her grandmother that she felt able to let her guard down, to share the simple joys of her day.
Her grandmother's next question, however, brought a complicated expression on Serena's face. "And what of your visit to the Potters' home next week? Are you excited to see Lily... and perhaps someone else?" Gwendoline's tone was teasing, edged with knowing humor.
Serena sighed, a mixture of exasperation and embarrassment lacing her voice. "Yes, Lily and I will be visiting. It's... going to be interesting, to say the least." She recalled the letter from Fleamont Potter, how it had called for a formal request to her grandfather for permission. It was all so traditional, so binding in its implications.
Her grandmother noticed her reaction and chuckled softly. "You know, my dear, I'm quite curious about this James Potter. From what you've told me, he seems... rather taken with you."
Serena's discomfort was evident, her memories of James from both her past and present life colliding. "He's... persistent," she conceded, her tone a blend of reluctance and respect.
Gwendoline nodded sagely, her gaze piercing. "An Alpha, isn't he? And you, my prime Omega granddaughter, would make quite the pair. The Prince line is nothing to scoff at, and neither are the Potters."
Serena's defenses rose, but there was no real heat behind her words. "Grandmother, you know as well as I do that being an Alpha or an Omega shouldn't dictate one's path."
"Of course, of course," Gwendoline agreed, her expression softening. "I only mean to say that should you choose him, or anyone, you have my blessing. Love, my child, is not something to be taken lightly, nor is companionship."
The room fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of Gwendoline's words settling over Serena like a warm cloak. Her grandmother's acceptance and understanding offered a rare comfort, a respite from the complexities of her own feelings.
"I know, Grandmother, thank you," Serena finally said, her voice barely a whisper. "For your blessing and for understanding."
Gwendoline reached out, her hand frail yet warm upon Serena's. "As long as you don't choose someone like Tobias Snape—someone who can't even accept our magic, whatever path you choose, my dear, I know you will do so with wisdom and grace."
Serena comprehended the underlying message in her grandmother's words. Gwendoline didn't want her to make the same mistakes and wrong choices as Eileen had. She smiled and squeezed her grandmother's hand in gratitude, a silent promise to honor her legacy and to forge her own path, whether it led to the Potters' doorstep or beyond. "Rest now," she urged gently. "I will be here."
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room into twilight, Serena remained at her grandmother's side, a silent guardian, a healer, and the future of the Prince's legacy.
~~~
The grand dining hall still echoed with the last remnants of dinner conversation as Serena excused herself from the table, leaving her grandfather to his evening brandy. She walked through the corridors with a sense of purpose, her mind busy with thoughts of the day and the week to come.
As she passed the long gallery of portraits, the voice of Adalina Prince called out to her, "Serena, dear child, come hither for a moment, if you will."
Serena paused and approached the painting of Adalina, a figure who had commanded respect from her peers with a mere look. "Good evening, Adalina," Serena greeted with a polite nod, her eyes reflecting curiosity.
Adalina's painted eyes sparkled with life as she smiled warmly at Serena. "And how are you finding the manor? I trust it is treating you well?"
"It's wonderful," Serena replied, nodding. "The history here is distinct. Every room, every artifact has a story to tell."
It was then that Bowe, peeked out from the waves of her hair. His tiny, leafy fingers gripped her shoulder as his wide eyes fixated on the portrait of Adalina. Serena watched, bemused by his uncharacteristic boldness.
Adalina let out a soft chuckle, "Oh, what do we have here? A familiar already, and before your first heat, no less."
Serena's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "You know of my... status?"
Adalina nodded sagely. "I was an Omega, just like you. It's a rare and treasured gift in our wizarding world. And I knew, not merely from your appearance, but because creatures and magical beasts have always been drawn to our kind. Even more so when our pheromones blossom after our first heat."
Serena's mind reeled. Another Omega in the Prince line, and one who had seemed to defy the expectations set upon their secondary status. "How is it that you knew?" she asked, her voice tinged with a newfound eagerness for understanding.
"The creatures of this world hold no prejudices," Adalina explained. "They see beyond the veils we cast around ourselves. They sense the purity of spirit, the kindness that lies within. It is why your bowtruckle friend shows himself to you without reservation."
Serena looked down at Bowe, who had now ventured out onto her arm, reaching towards the painting as if he could bridge the gap between canvas and reality.
"That makes sense," Serena mused, a small smile playing on her lips. "I've felt a connection with creatures ever since I–…..well – until Bowe, but I never understood why." Serena thankfully caught herself before she slipped unnecessary information about another life.
Adalina's portrait beamed with pride. "It is a gift, Serena, and one that you should cherish. Use it well, not just for your benefit, but for the well-being of all magical creatures."
Serena nodded, her eyes lighting up by the words of her ancestor. She listened intently as Adalina's voice took on the timbre of distant memories, and the room seemed to hush in anticipation of the tale to be told.
"Serena," Adalina began again, her gaze piercing as if she could see through time itself, "it is vital that you understand the heritage you carry, represented by our family crest. The Horned Serpent twined about a flute is not mere decoration – it is the very symbol of our unique magical ancestry and the talents that have been passed down through the Prince generations."
Serena's eyes were fixed upon the painted serpent above Adalina's portrait, as though expecting it to slither out of its frame. Bowe peered out curiously, his twig-like fingers stroking the air towards the image.
"Centuries ago," Adalina continued, "an Omegan ancestor of ours ventured deep into the Forbidden Forest, where few dared to tread. It was there he encountered a powerful Horned Serpent, a creature of considerable intelligence and magical prowess."
Serena's heart raced with the unfolding history she never got to know as Severus Snape.
"The Horned Serpent was drawn to the haunting melody of the young Omega's flute. Unlike any other, the music resonated with the serpent's ancient spirit. The wizard played with such purity and sincerity that the creature could not help but offer its favor." Adalina's voice held a reverence that filled the corridor, wrapping Serena in the gravity of the moment shared between her ancestor and the mystical being.
"In recognition of our ancestor's virtuous heart, the Horned Serpent forged a sacred connection with the Prince family. This bond granted us heightened magical abilities, a profound understanding of enchantment, and the serene wisdom of the serpent itself. Our family has always been attuned to the ebb and flow of magic, but from that day, our connection to it – and to the creatures of this world – grew ever stronger."
Serena, entranced, barely noticed as Bowe climbed back onto her shoulder, his small form tense with the importance of the tale.
"The flute and the serpent on our crest symbolize the harmony of music and magic, intrinsic to our lineage. It's whispered that the Princes possess an innate talent for music, a legacy of that fateful meeting. Our magic flows as a melody does through an instrument, and we are bound by respect and love for the magical creatures we share this earth with."
Adalina's eyes seemed to glimmer with the echo of the past, a time when magic was a song and the world its resonating chamber.
"The crest is not just a mark of our past; it is a promise for the future. You, Serena, as the heir to the Prince family, carry this legacy within you. It will be your guide and your companion, just as your Bowtruckle friend has chosen to be."
Serena felt the weight of history upon her as Adalina's voice continued to weave the tale of their ancestors, each word steeped in the mysterious allure of the past.
"There is one more thing you must know, young Serena," Adalina said, her eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight that lined the grand corridor. "The heirloom of our family, the instrument of our legacy, is the very flute that our ancestor played to charm the Horned Serpent. It is not an ordinary piece; it was infused with magical properties the moment they bonded."
Serena's mind raced with the possibilities, her eyes wide with awe. The idea that such an artifact existed, one that held so much power and history, was nearly beyond comprehension.
"This flute, when played by an Omega of the Prince bloodline, reveals its true powers of enchantments upon beasts and creatures. They become not just subdued, but loyal allies, friends to the player until their dying breath," Adalina explained, her voice lowering to a solemn tone. "It has been two centuries since the last of our line has wielded its magic. The creatures of the world have longed for its song."
A thrill ran through Serena, her heart skipping a beat. The thought of being able to bond with creatures, to gain their unwavering friendship and alliance, was both exciting and daunting.
"And you, Adalina?" Serena dared to ask, "Did you ever play the heirloom?"
A ghost of a smile played on Adalina's lips. "Indeed, I did. Five hundred years ago, I was the one who called the creatures to our side, who felt the serpents coil in joy to the music I played."
Serena gasped, the revelation that Adalina herself had been a player of the mythical flute sent her thoughts spiraling. To think that she was speaking to someone who had wielded such an artifact was nothing short of extraordinary.
"Your grandfather holds more knowledge of our history, Serena. Seek him out, and he will tell you all you need to know," Adalina instructed. "But be warned, the heirloom is a treasure that many would kill to possess. Its existence must be guarded, for if the world knew of its power, it would bring untold danger upon you and upon all of us."
The warning resonated with Serena, solidifying the gravity of the secret she now held. She had always been strategic, a planner with the foresight of her past life as Severus Snape. The idea of using the flute to aid in her future endeavors tempted her greatly, but she understood the risks that Adalina spoke of.
With a final nod to the portrait, Serena continued on her way, her path lit by the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows. She felt a newfound sense of kinship, not just with her grandmother and the supportive gaze of Adalina, but with the very creatures that roamed the grounds of Prince Manor. In them, she found allies, friends, and perhaps, a piece of herself.
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