บท 174: Letter from Charlus Potter Jr.

After returning home, Rowan stopped first to deliver her gift to Severus, before unpacking. Finished, she made her way to the main fireplace. Glancing about, she made sure the coast is clear before placing the spelled wardrobe into the burning flames. The wardrobe didn't burn quickly but rather slowly until at last, it turned into ashes.

Taking an iron poker with an intricately carved handle, Rowan poked the ashes to ensure there is nothing left behind. Seeing only flickers of ash and glowing embers, she felt pleased. Still she waited just in case for some time more, before finally retiring to her bedroom.

Within the safety of her personal quarters, Rowan gently opened the brown package she had retrieved from vault #113. Within she found a stack of sheets along with a letter. Carefully removing said articles, she set the stack of parchment s aside for the moment, before opening the envelope to read the written letter found inside.

"My name is Charlus Potter Jr.

And in my fourth year, I discovered a hidden journal in the archives section of the Hogwarts library. I was merely fooling around at the time, but a thin journal slipped out from its hiding spot. At first, I thought to throw it away, but in the end, my curiosity got the better of me and I peeked inside. To my utter and complete surprise, an old letter slipped out. The ink had begun to fade away, but I still could make out most of the letter. It was written by a boy by the name of Fogey Artemio.

At first, I took it as a joke, but the more I read the more I came to believe that the letter might be real. Still, I laughed the entire incident off, and yet, I took the journal with me. I promptly forgot the entire incident by tossing the journal into my school trunk. It was not until that following summer that I discovered that the Ravenclaw boy that had written the letter and journal had truly passed away only three days after his graduation.

I must admit my first thought was to be rather intrigued by the idea of such a mystery. Over the years, I steadily followed the clues hidden inside and was able to discover something rather terrifying as a pattern began to emerge before my very eyes. For the fabric of fate was actively being woven. Not by magic, life, or death itself, but rather by another.

I know that it sounds insane and for a time I even attempted to laugh off such a conclusion. But the more I looked the more I saw. And it is true, that the closer one stands near the truth the less one can see behind them-." The writing trailed off as though he had to unexpectedly stop before the letter restarted up again from a different point.

"I'm now down to thirteen names on the list. Thanks to the clues offered by my old friend, Fogey. Is it strange to consider someone you've never met an old friend? I thought so too once and yet I find that he is the only one who understands my fears and knows that which I know. I dare not trust anyone with this knowledge not out of fear, but rather I do not know if they could withstand the terrible burden of knowledge."

The letter pauses again as the topic once more is changed.

"I'm being followed. I thought I was seeing things but I'm not. There are only seven names left and I am that much closer to the truth. But with every step that I take, I feel the noose around my neck slowly tighten that much more with each passing day. It is simply a matter of time, but I fear that I am quickly running out of time. I can feel time as though it's slipping through my fingers like sand-."

The final paragraphs seem to have been written in great haste as the writing is rather untidy.

"I've destroyed half of the journal. I must make him believe that it is gone. The other half, I've snuck back into its place of origin, it will be safe there-."

"There are only five left. But I am out of time, death closely follows."

"I leave for Bordeaux tomorrow. I cannot risk this being found. But still, I cannot help leaving clues behind in hopes that something good will come out of this final desperate act much as Fogey did.

Charlus Potter Jr."

Rowan rather solemnly folded the letter and neatly placed it back into its envelope. With care, she took the stack of sheets as a bitter smile appeared on her face. Glued on the corner of each sheet was a photograph followed by a name and information on the character. As she skimmed through the sheets a bit of sadness and respect appeared in her eyes. These were the same names that she had found and listed in the archives. It would appear that great minds think alike. But that may not necessarily be a good thing in this case as Charlus Potter Jr. was very much dead.

Glancing through the sheets, she finally stops at the last five pages. The last five sheets only contain a single photograph with a name and one line of information. Trying to breathe Rowan calms her racing heart as she reads the five names on the last five sheets: Oswaldo Bulstrode, Devante Nott, Murtagh Burke, Linus Gamp, and Kain Shafiq. All members of the Sacred 28 families.

True enough the only name Rowan recognized was that of Nott and Bulstrode. One is the possible father or grandfather of Millicent Bulstrode. And the other as the original Knight of Walpurgis and possible father or grandfather of Theodore Nott.

But strangely enough, neither Burke, Gamp, and Shafiq had ever been mentioned. It was rather perturbing to think that three out of the twenty-eight families did not have a single scene or family member appear within the original timeline. But even more so as she was searching for someone who was a puppeteer from the shadows and all three of these members fit that category to a tee. Not that the other two couldn't be it as well, but there seemed to be a higher risk factor with the last three.

Pushing any theories out of her mind for now, Rowan starts with the sheet of Oswaldo Bulstrode. Black hair, heavy jutting jaw with a rather large, square build. He seemed rather imposing by his physical nature, but also happened to coincide with that of Millicent Bulstrode. There was a great deal of chance that he was her father rather than her grandfather. And the only note on his sheet read, "Rather Violent."

The image of Devante Nott was that of a tall wizard with a pointy chin and angry-looking brows. He did not appear to be a very nice man nor a very cunning wizard. He did not appear to resemble Theodore Nott very much beyond his height. It was far more likely that he was the grandfather or some sort of relation to Theodore Nott, and the spiky-haired female Quidditch Captain for the Slytherin team, Mavis Nott.

The only note on his sheet read as "The pervert likes them young." It would appear that he was a deviant through and through.

The third image was that of Murtagh Burke, a rather elegant gentleman with a regal air about him. His bronze, silver-streaked hair was neatly kept short with a neatly trimmed beard. A rather odd fashion statement for an older wizard of his time.

The only note added said, "Utterly brilliant with a piercing gaze."

"Legilimency? Rowan murmured to herself. "Not an uncommon skill but does require some measure of talent and more importantly power."

Before turning to gaze at the arrogant gaze of Linus Gamp. Proud and wild-looking, Linus Gamp seemed a bit like his surname, unyielding. His note simply read, "Arrogant bastard."

And last but not least Kain Shafiq. A bit like his surname, Kain Shafiq was dark-haired with a bit of a tan with strong facial features. Proud looking with a touch of solemnity, Kain Shafiq was a rather handsome fellow.

The only note to his profile was that of, "Extraordinary Wealthy!"

Pursing her lips, Rowan pondered in deep thought. Her biggest mistake would be to go about digging into them or asking directly about them as Charlus Potter Jr. had so cleverly proved with his tragic death. But she simply couldn't discard them nor tell Moody as that would further involve him and put everyone else at risk as well. No, she'd had to be clever and subtle about this. Well, she did have an entire summer to think of something up. This would just have to do for now.