The school year rolled into motion once more.
As a second-year student, Caelum found himself facing a heavier course load. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Herbology—the same subjects from first year, now more intense and layered with deeper theory. But he welcomed the challenge. After everything that had happened, the normalcy of structured learning was almost a relief.
He was determined, as always, to master as much as he could.
There was only one notable change in the academic roster: Professor Patricia Rakepick, the striking but controversial Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from last year, was no longer part of the staff. News had quietly spread that she had been sent to Azkaban, though the reasons remained buried behind layers of Ministry silence and sealed reports. Rumors ranged from illegal magical experimentation to involvement with dark artifacts—none of which were officially confirmed.
Her replacement was a younger witch named Professor Olivia Green, recently returned from an extended tour with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Professor Green was a stark contrast to her predecessor. With dark curls pinned tightly above sharp eyes and a calm, level voice, she quickly asserted control over the classroom—not through fear, but through steady command and competence.
A few days into term, Caelum sat with Evran at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, watching the Slytherin team try outs. Above, Bastian weaved through the air on his broom, navigating the agility course set up by the team captain. The wind pulled at his robes, and from the look of determination on his face, he was giving it everything he had.
Vesper Blackbourne appeared beside them, her dark hair tousled by the breeze as she gracefully dropped onto the grass beside Caelum. She gave him a sidelong glance.
"Not joining?" she asked.
Caelum snorted. "Joining an activity where I have to hover in mid-air, under direct sunlight, on an open field with zero cover? Doesn't exactly scream 'vampire-friendly.' Even for a half one."
Evran smirked. "He's not wrong."
Vesper tilted her head, watching Bastian pull a sharp turn around a goalpost. "Still… it does look fun."
Caelum nodded slightly. "Yeah. I'll admit to that."
Vesper leaned back on her hands, eyes flicking toward the stands. "… Silas Avery's transferred to Durmstrang. Quietly, over the break."
Evran raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Didn't think he'd actually leave."
Caelum's expression didn't change, but a thought stirred behind his eyes, he said quietly. "With everything that happened, disappearing is safer than answering questions."
Vesper didn't disagree.
…
The next day after Charms class, Professor Flitwick gently waved Caelum over before he could leave.
"Mr. Sanguine, a moment of your time, please."
Curious, Caelum stepped forward. The classroom had emptied quickly, leaving only the tiny professor bustling around his desk.
"I've noticed something," Flitwick began, his voice soft but sharp. "Your magic—it's grown stronger. Much stronger. But not quite as controlled as it once was."
Caelum hesitated, then nodded. "I… noticed that too. I'm still adjusting."
"What you need is experience," Flitwick said, eyes twinkling behind his small glasses. "Practical experience. Which brings me to my point: how would you feel about entering a dueling tournament this year?"
Caelum blinked. "A tournament?"
"Not just any," Flitwick grinned. "The Junior Valerius Dueling Invitational. Held every two years. Prestigious. International. It requires a nomination from a registered champion. And, as it happens, I am one."
Caelum's heart skipped. "I… you'd nominate me?"
"Only if you agree," Flitwick said warmly. "We'll need to train of course. I'll make space in my schedule for you. The tournament is held during the Easter holiday. You've got potential, Mr. Sanguine. Now it's time to test it."
Caelum didn't even need to think. "Yes. I'll do it."
"Wonderful," Flitwick clapped his hands. "I'll notify Professor Dumbledore straightaway."
Caelum gave a small nod, but then paused. "Actually, I also need to speak with the Headmaster. There's something he wanted to tell me back at the Ministry… I never got the chance to follow up. May I come along when you see him professor?"
Flitwick blinked, then gave a pleased smile. "Ah, excellent timing then. Yes, of course."
But then he drew out his pocket watch, checking the hour. "Though you still have classes, don't you? Let's not get you into trouble. I'll schedule our meeting for this afternoon instead. Come to my office after your final lesson."
"I will," Caelum replied. "Thank you, Professor."
That afternoon, Caelum found himself back in the familiar warmth of the Headmaster's office. The sun filtered through the high windows, casting soft shadows over Dumbledore's shelves of enchanted instruments.
"I assume you've come regarding the tournament," Dumbledore said, his eyes bright behind his half-moon spectacles.
Flitwick nodded. "Caelum's agreed. I'd like to submit his nomination for the Valerius Junior Invitational."
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I have no objection. But official participation requires permission from both his guardian and the Ministry."
"I'll help with the Ministry side," Flitwick offered. "I'm still owed a few favors from my championship days."
"Very well," Dumbledore smiled. "Then let us proceed."
With that, Flitwick bowed slightly and took his leave, closing the door behind him.
Caelum turned to the Headmaster. "Professor… back at the Ministry. You said there was something else you wanted to tell me."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Indeed. A matter of legacy."
He stood and walked over to one of the shelves, retrieving a weathered scroll sealed in silver wax.
"During the earliest days of Hogwarts," he began, "the school maintained alliances with several magical families—some British, some from the continent. Among them was The House of Varnak."
Caelum sat still.
"There are records," Dumbledore continued, "suggesting that the Varnaks aided in protecting the school from dark creatures in its formative years. In gratitude, the Headmistress at the time—Niamh Fitzgerald—agreed to house one artifact of Varnak legacy here, should the family ever fall."
"And… they did," Caelum said quietly.
"Yes." Dumbledore looked grave. "When the House of Varnak was hunted and destroyed, one of the surviving elders reached out to Hogwarts in secret. The artifact was entrusted to the school's safekeeping, to be passed down Headmaster to Headmaster, awaiting the bloodline's return."
Dumbledore's expression softened with something almost nostalgic. "Even when the Ministry issued its decree to purge every record and trace of the Varnak name, Hogwarts chose to uphold its promise in secret."
He paused. "When I met you… I suspected. But I still hoped you might live a normal life. A bit unusual, perhaps—but untouched by what had long been buried."
Caelum gave a small, sad smile. "I don't think fate was ever going to let me be normal."
"No. It seems not." Dumbledore returned to his seat. "Come see me again tomorrow. I'll take you to what remains of your bloodline's legacy. What Hogwarts still owes to the heir of House Varnak."
Caelum nodded. His heart beat a little faster.
Something had been left behind. Something meant for him.