When I came to, I was laying on the couch, which is odd, I thought I was at my computer. OH, right, I wrote wayyy to much fanfics. I thought I was kidnapped by Harry Potter. I shake my head, I really needed a nap then.
As I was sitting up I called out to my brother, "Hey Forehead! What's for dinner? We got any dino nuggies left? I had the strangest drea-...." In front of me is another couch that we don't own, and two strangers looking at me with an odd curiosity.
"It's not a dream is it? I'm in the magical world, and way back in 1890. I really desire foul language."
They exchange a look as though communicating though it.
"Naw, dere nay be any foul languages from yu, laddie, or wat yer moder be tinking?" -comes the man.
["Now, there be no foul languages from you, laddie. Or what would your mother be thinking?"]
"In this context it's appropriate." I chuckle to myself.
"Wat werr yu doin, laddie? Yu came turs zausted of yer majiks. Arre yu arright?" - comes the man a second time, the woman strangely silent.
["What were you doin, lad? You came to us exhausted of your magics. Are you alright?"]
"Oh, right, here." I hand over the letter to the male speaker. "Exhausted of my magic? I'm a muggle, I don't have magic."
The woman then speaks while the man reads. - "Nay, lad. If Ye be hasin no majiks, ye wudnt be hanin sets toe oer the propr line. Ye has somins majiks, mayhap squibish, at near. How ye bes knows majiks beins muggle, if not be-"
["Nay, lad. If you had no magic, you wouldnt have been setting foot over the property line. You have some magic, mayhap squbish, but some. And how you be knowing magic as a muggle, if you're not-]
The man interrupts with "Ah Betty, dun be sayins more." cutting off her, Betty, and hands her the parchment as well.
She looks from the parchment to me to the man and back down. With a tear in her eye she carefully fold up the letter and levitates it up on the shelf. With a flick of her wand a spell covers me and she continues with a clearer voice than before.
"Well, then. Welcome, Benevolence. I'm Bathilda Bagshot, this is my husband Salazar Prince. Would you like to become our blood adopted son?"
"Huh?"... Is my reply. "You're the Bathilda Bagshot? History of magic Bathilda Bagshot? and your.. Actually I've never heard of a Salazar Prince, but Prince yes. The Prince family?"
With a chuckle from the two of them, "Call us Betty and Sal, please. And yes, that Prince family. But what's a History of Magic?" asks Sal.
"Ah." comes Betty, "I haven't published yet, I'm still on my first draft. That was only a contending title, but If you already know it as such, then I suppose we'll go with that."
"Oh! Is that the project you have been working on with little Greta?" Asks Sal.
"Yes, Sal." She addresses him, before turning to me, "Griselda Marchbanks, have you heard of her too? She's only just out of Hogwarts, but truly bright. You'll likely see her from time to time, as she is my apprentice."
"Yes, I've heard of Madam Marchbanks. She's -" I begin to reply before getting cut off by Betty with "Nay dearie, no future knowledge please. Not about anyone's deeds or outcomes, if you know someone that's fine to mention, but not any details. Not when we're still in range of influence."
"Ah, I understand. Some things may turn out differently than I know them to be. Although, me being here already changes things, when I arrived in the future things were already different, I think I'm in an alternate universe, or...."
I get nods from the two of them as they listen to me ramble.
"Or maybe I've already changed things so they were already changed when I arrived? Ahh, that's a headache to think about."
"That may very will be dearie. For now we'll put that aside, would you like to be adopted by us? In blood and magic?" Asks Sal.
"Well as I think I've already done so, the short answer would be yes, but I must ask a few things first, if that's alright."
"What do you want to know lad? There may be things we can't answer or don't know the answer too, in which case we'll tell you such."
"That's perfect. I suppose my first question is about genealogy, uh, your ancestors and such, Prince and Bagshot both, as most magical families are interrelated." Before I can continue I notice Sal has taken out a parchment and quill to write down my questions. "My following questions are about the current political landscape, prominent families in court, the structure of the court, current minister of magic, how much we interact with muggles, and magical neighbors here in Godric's Hollow."
I take a deep breath and as I wait for Sal to finish scribing I ask, "Why are you hand penning the questions? Can't you use magic to dictate what I'm saying?"
"Nay lad, I'm a squib." He just drops a bombshell on me.
"Oh... I'm sorry."
His penning stops. "Sorry for asking, sorry for my status, or sorry for something else?" He eyes me sternly.
"Ah, no. I'm sorry for presuming anything, I'm woefully ignorant about magic, I meant no disrespect and I hold no prejudice against you." Is my reply.
He smiles and begins to write again without further comment. And we continue this way in quiet for just a moment more before he puts the quill away.
"Okay, as for what we can answer, In order, I am Salazar Ezra Prince, a squib of the Prince line. Before me are my now gone Parents Joel and Elizabeth Prince, squibs themselves, my mother was Elizabeth Potter of the Potters. Do you know of the Potters?"
I chuckle softly. "Yes, I know of the family name, but truly I only know one in my time."
"Continuing then, My grandfather's mother was also a squib, Electra Black, and my great grandfather's mother was Casandra Gaunt the last squib in this lineup."
My eyebrows shoot up in alarm at Black and Gaunt.
"I take it you know of the Blacks and Gaunts then?"
"Yes.. Yes I know them." I say sternly and without explanation. "Please continue."
"My great, great grandfather, the most recent wizard in my line, Augustus Prince, was brother to the current head, both then and now named, Octavian Prince."