This was the first time in Sean's life that he had ever held a baby.
Even though he had watched carefully how his mother cradled Caesar and picked up on the technique quickly, his own movements still felt a bit awkward and stiff.
For Caesar, the sudden change in arms was enough to rouse him from deep sleep.
Startled, Sean instinctively prepared to hand Caesar back to their mother—worried that he might cry, and unsure what to do if he did. But just as Sean was about to return him, something unexpected happened.
Caesar, resting in his brother's arms, looked up at Sean—and smiled.
He blinked slowly, his dark eyes wide and clear like a quiet night sky, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. That one smile, that one look of recognition, reached something deep in Sean's heart. In that instant, he felt an overwhelming warmth. It was impossible not to love this tiny, soft creature who shared his blood.
"Caesar, I'm your brother," Sean said softly.
Cradling Caesar with one arm, Sean extended a finger toward him. Almost as if they had been doing this forever, Caesar raised his tiny hand and grasped his brother's finger tightly.
Big brother. Little brother. Smiling together.
Watching the interaction, both Adrian and Margaret felt their hearts soften. The quiet relief on their faces was unmistakable. They had worried, just a little, that Sean—though mature and kind—might feel distant, or awkward, or struggle to connect with his new sibling. They knew Sean would never show such feelings outwardly, even if they were there, but still, they had hoped their sons would truly care for one another.
That concern had lingered in Margaret's heart since the very moment she discovered she was pregnant.
But now, seeing Sean's genuine joy and Caesar's sweet trust, those worries melted away completely.
After holding Caesar for a while, and only after Margaret's gentle urging, Sean reluctantly placed his baby brother back in the cradle.
To the sound of Margaret's soft lullaby, Caesar soon drifted back into peaceful sleep.
Sean took one last look at him… and then quietly returned to his bedroom.
The bedroom was spotlessly clean. After changing into his home clothes, Sean went downstairs again to have lunch with Margaret and Adrian.
But as soon as he reached the stairs, Sean noticed an unexpected guest waiting in the living room.
"Grandfather, you're here."
"Mm, I'm here," said Gideon, who was seated casually on the sofa. He turned to look at Sean with a trace of amusement in his eyes. "From the look on your face, you don't seem very pleased to see me."
"How could that be? This house is as comfortable as it is all thanks to your generosity, Grandfather. How could I possibly not welcome you?"
That was what Sean said—but the insincere smile on his face was so pointed, so intentionally overdone, it was as if he was performing for Gideon's benefit. Even Caesar, fresh into the world, might have caught the sarcasm.
Gideon narrowed his eyes, visibly restraining himself. He wasn't afraid of Sean being upset with him, nor did he care if Sean kept his distance. What truly irritated him was that look—that smug, passive-aggressive grin that Sean always put on when he was annoyed. And Sean, of course, knew this perfectly well. Which is why he used it every time he wanted to quietly needle his grandfather.
"It seems another year at Hogwarts has taught you how to push buttons. You've really grown up."
Sean met Gideon's gaze without backing down. He knew full well how much influence Gideon wielded—not only within the Bulstrode family, but also across the Ministry of Magic and the wider wizarding world. His grandfather's usual public demeanor was a far cry from the version sitting here now. The fact that Gideon even allowed this side of himself to appear in front of Sean… well, that in itself meant something. And Sean wasn't ungrateful.
"Grandfather, let's talk."
"That's the reason I came today," Gideon replied simply.
After offering polite greetings to Margaret and Adrian and doting on Caesar for a while, Gideon followed Sean into his study.
As he stepped in, his eyes briefly lingered on Kulkan, whose size had clearly increased since the last time they met. Gideon paused but said nothing, then went and sat directly in Sean's chair, like he owned the place.
Which, in a way, he did.
After greeting Margaret and Adrian, and teasing Caesar for a while, Gideon followed Sean into his study. His eyes swept across Kulkan, who was clearly much larger than before. Though it was obvious Gideon had noticed the change, he didn't comment. He simply sat down in Sean's chair without asking—like he always did.
"Where would you like to start?" Gideon asked.
Sean looked at him calmly. "What about you, Grandfather?"
At this, Gideon gave a faint smile. "Then let's start with the inheritance ability of our Bulstrode family."
He pointed toward Sean's eyes, then to his own.
"Perhaps you've never been told this before, but the very first time I saw you, I knew I'd have to treat you differently. Do you know why?"
Sean had already noticed the gesture. He met Gideon's eyes—light gray, just like his own. And then it struck him. Among all the members of the Bulstrode family he had met, none shared this eye color. Only Gideon and himself.
"…Is it because of the color of my pupils?" Sean asked.
Gideon nodded. "Exactly. It's the eyes. The light gray pupils are a hereditary marker. Hidden deep in the Bulstrode bloodline is an extremely rare talent—something akin to Parseltongue in Salazar Slytherin's line. This trait only surfaces in those who carry this particular gift. And the eyes are always the same. Light gray. They are the proof."
Sean's mind flashed back to that strange moment—when he received the letter at school and suddenly saw visions of his family: his father, his mother, Caesar, and then… Gideon, turning and speaking to him from within the vision itself.
"Grandfather, the ability you're talking about… is it what I saw before?"
"Yes," Gideon said. "Not long ago, when your mother was giving birth to Caesar, I sensed someone with the same bloodline watching me—through the fabric of time. I knew it had to be you. But I couldn't be sure when you had seen it."
"I received a letter from home," Sean explained. "The moment I opened it… I saw everything."
Gideon nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. The letter became the medium—triggering your first contact with the ability. That was your initial awakening."
"What exactly is this ability, Grandfather?"
"You could call it clairvoyance, divination, or prophecy, but those aren't quite right. The Bulstrode ability is called Seer's vision."
"Seer's vision?"
"Yes. It lets you see glimpses of a medium's past, present, or future. That's just the start. If you fully master it, you could predict an opponent's moves in battle, gaining the upper hand. But even I haven't fully mastered it. It's so difficult I doubt I'll achieve it in my lifetime."
Sean nodded, processing. "So, have I awakened this talent?"
"You?" Gideon gave him a look and chuckled. "You've only taken half a step on a road a hundred miles long. That one glimpse you had was just the start. You think that counts as awakening?"
He snorted lightly and shook his head. "Wait a bit longer. You'll know when it truly begins."