It was a dreary Friday, and I sat curled up on a window seat in my old bedroom overlooking the extensive property that was Chilverton Elms. One of my old Kennilworthy Whisp books was perched against the wall. I hadn't read from it for the last ten minutes, and I knew I wouldn't be going back to it anytime soon.

Klaus had suggested that I visit my parents in order to escape from the madness that was Chasing History and to decompress, collect my thoughts, and so on before having to dive headfirst into my own personal Hell. However, the small foray to my parents' estate had been anything but relaxing. I anxiously swirled the silver band around my index finger, thoughts about the very near Hell Week overwhelming me. My mum, the dear, had given me a potion to calm my nerves, but the effects were wearing off sooner than anticipated.

I had yet to receive word from Clancy, affirmative or negative, and I'd been ignoring post from Lara and Toni who were spending one last weekend in London before we relocated to a town outside of Dorset. Sean had sent me several howlers since my quick departure from Stonehenge, his pompous voice calmly informing me that I had better show up at the address he would soon provide for me, "or else." In fact, if I closed my eyes and just let his voice infiltrate my mind, I could actually see him in front of me, leaning over a dark cherry desk shaking a long finger at me, before running a hand through his frustratingly perfect pepper-coloured hair in exasperation.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my vision, and I turned in my seat to see Nellie, our house elf, holding a small tray with a glass on it.

"The Mistress said that Rüdiger might need more potion soon," she squeaked meekly. I smiled gently and gestured for her to approach. She did so hesitantly as I swung my legs over the edge of the bench and reached forward for the glass. I knocked back the sluggish fluid before replacing the cup on the silver tray.

"Thank you, Nellie," I said. She bowed before scurrying out of my room and shutting the door behind me.

At dinner, my parents chattered amiably about this and that, occasionally letting me elbow my way into the conversation. For the most part, I hadn't been paying much mind to the topics of conversation. Instead, I was innerly fretting over seeing Oliver again and whether I would have Clancy around to fall back on. Merlin knew I needed him more than ever.

I was brought back to the small world that was the dining room when my mother said my name.

"Fritz, darling, don't you worry for our Rue?" Mum inquired as she brought a forkful of crab to her mouth.

My father turned to me after placing his utensils on the table, "Should I be worried?"

"No." I glared across the table at my mother who huffed and rolled her shoulders in what I think was an attempt to appear authoritative.

"See, Elisabeth, nothing to worry about. Rue'll be fine out there in Dorset all by herself," my dad's head bobbed happily as he returned his attention to his food.

"Yes, that's all well and good, but what about, you know," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "him?"

My father glanced at me to judge my reaction. I kept a straight face, doing my best to appear completely unbothered.

"As I said, liebling, she's fine."

I nodded and busied myself with the food on my plate, hoping to avoid my mother's pesky inquiries into my well-being. Thankfully, she turned the conversation to Klaus and Anna and how she so desperately hoped for a grandchild soon. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes.

"Why so glum, prinzessin?" my father asked as he settled into the leather armchair behind his desk the following afternoon. I lay sprawled with my legs thrown over the arm of an overstuffed couch. I grumbled incoherently in response.

My father hummed, "I see, I see. Why don't you go up to the castle and explore the tunnels or something historical like that?"

I rolled over and fixed my father with the best glare I could muster, "It's raining, Dad. I'm not going to go traipsing through the castle and get soaked, thank you very much."

He laughed. "Go to the library."

"I don't fancy reading right now, actually."

"Rue, I've got work to finish," he sighed, sifting through some official looking documents on his desk. "Can't have you in here distracting me with that attitude of yours. There must be something to amuse you in this house," he finished, clasping his hands over a folder.

I did nothing but childishly throw my arms up over my head. They landed against the pillows behind me with a soft thud.

"Why not go down to the cellar and look through the archives?" he finally suggested. "You haven't been down there in awhile, have you?"

I shrugged. It was true, I hadn't been down there since Uncle Friedrich had unlocked the door and let me explore it when I was far too young to appreciate anything within.

"Besides, you'll love all that old stuff!"

Dad rummaged through one of the drawers before producing a large, heavy black key with a shabby tassel tied to it. I slid from the couch, lazily took the key from him, and trudged down the two flights of stairs to the dingy and cold cellar door.

The oak door gave with a cry, and a gust of cool air pressed against me when I had finally managed to pull it fully open. With the flick of my wand, three candlesticks sitting atop an ancient desk lit, and I carefully placed the key on a rusted hook and shut the heavy door behind me. I perused several of the shelves before I settled on a large leather tome that I decided was the oldest thing in the cramped room. A phoenix quill lay next to it, so I gathered both in my arms and sat at the desk in the middle of the room.

I brushed the dust from the cover of the book, revealing shimmering gold lettering that read Die Zeile Von Strassburg und seine Geschichte, or The Von Strassburg Line and its History. I studied it for a moment, taking in the coat of arms stitched onto the cover, before I carefully opened it. The spine cracked as I turned to the first page of vellum. The family motto, "Zwar weiß ich viel, doch möchte ich mehr wissen," was written across the page. I smiled at the familiar words. It was most fitting indeed that we Von Straussburg's were primarily sorted into Ravenclaw.

I flipped through the many pages that described my family's history, how we ended up in England, how the spelling of our surname changed, our many traditions, the accumulation of wealth in the family vault at Gringott's... all things I was vaguely familiar with as a child of the Von Straussburg clan. Some of the text I couldn't quite decipher, since I wasn't all that familiar with Old High German despite all my knowledge of ancient runes, though it had something to do with the original magical properties of the book and quill and something about the Oaths of Strasbourg.

However, I was far more interested in the family tree that stretched over pages and pages after the bulk of family history, different inks representing different things. Most were in the same silky black ink as the family motto, denoting that the family member was deceased. Gold represented what relationships existed in the present. A deep red ink symbolised the direct Von Straussburg line. And finally, from what I could gather from the large spread of the last century, dark blue illustrated what possibly had yet to come.

The most recent page, dating back to my great-grandfather Abelard and his wife, Greta, was what caught my interest that particular afternoon. Klaus' name was written in a dark red with a shimmering gold line connecting him to Anna Walker. Another line, in a dark blue, descended from the gold line connecting the couple with two tick marks branching off it. From my deductions, this meant my brother and sister-in-law wanted or were meant to have two children. My eyes followed the crimson line from my brother's name to my own, and I was shocked to see another dark blue line reaching from mine into an empty bit of parchment that bore the name of the very person I had dreaded seeing for weeks.

I knew the quill and the book possessed magical properties beyond my comprehension, considering how old both surely were, but I couldn't help to think that the bloody book had gone mental and something was seriously awry. There was absolutely no way I would eventually marry Oliver Wood. Certainly, destiny and fate were not so sick, and I was not such a masochist.

I reached for the silver ring around my finger, wanting to wrench it from my person and throw it into the darkest corner, but found I didn't have the heart to remove it. Instead, I slammed the book shut and exited the small chamber as quickly as possible, desperate to erase his name in that obnoxious blue hue from my mind.

Sorry for a seemingly pointless chapter, except for that end bit. That's kind of a point that I wanted to make. Do accept my apology regardless; the Wizarding World of Harry Potter was amazing, but I picked up a nasty bug while I was there and I'm now laced up on medicines. Right, well Jo Rowling owns the Harry Potter series. That which you don't recognize from it belongs to me, except for Chilverton Elms which is an actual property outside of Dorset. If you were wondering, the family motto translates to "Much as I know, I wish I knew more." Fitting for a family of Ravenclaws, no? I hope to have another chapter up very soon. I absolutely mean it when I say you can expect Oliver in chapter seven, I promise. As always, be the wonderful readers that you are and leave me a review. If you have questions about anything, ask and I shall give an answer. Yours.