The Luck of Hallowe'en

Eileen took a good look at the three books Tobias had stolen from Malfoy Manor. 'My mother was a Black,' she said as she read through The Pure-blood Directory. 'Are you positive you heard the names Narcissa and Walburga?'

'What about it?' said Tobias. 'Are you related to them?'

'I'm afraid so.' said Eileen. 'Not that it matters much, as most wizards are related one way or another. Haven't seen nor spoken to them in years. There are plenty more pure-blood families out there aside from these, such as the Potters and the Weasleys – but they're not in here due to the impurities in their ancestral lineage.'

'And what about your family?' asked Tobias. 'The Princes, I mean.'

'The Prince line is a long and complicated one,' said Eileen with a sigh. 'It goes back for over a thousand years, and it all started with one of the founding members of Hogwarts; Rowena Ravenclaw. She had fallen in love with a wizard whose name remains unknown, and he tragically died before she gave birth to their daughter, whom she then named after herself, Helena Ravenclaw. Helena attended Hogwarts under her mother's ruling, along with another boy, who would later become known only as The Bloody Baron. But the thing is, he was never a baron at all. He was a boy born of Muggle heritage, and sorted into Slytherin's House. Salazar Slytherin had despised it, for he did not believe that wizards born from Muggles should be allowed to attend Hogwarts, for he was convinced that their magic had to have been stolen somehow. An exception was made for the boy however, because he was a prince. A true prince, not one to inherit the throne, but still a member of the royal family. It had earned him the nickname "The Prince" all throughout the years he spent at Hogwarts, but the tragedy lies in the fact that his own family had disowned him for his magic. Cast away and forgotten about, for magic was still very much frowned upon in the Muggle world; especially if it involved royalty.'

'Does this mean you are somehow related to the royal family?' asked Tobias.

'Well yes, and no,' said Eileen. 'Disowned and forgotten about, as I said. Remember that there are loads of people out there that don't know they are related to the royal families of Europe. They had a tendency to sow their oats, as they say, over the centuries. What matters in this story is that one day, Helena, jealous of her mother's wisdom, had stolen the crown from her mother's head, and hid it deep within the forests of Albania. Rowena, heartbroken by her daughter's disappearance, had send The Prince after her to find her. But what Rowena didn't know, was that The Prince held a deeply rooted love for Helena that bordered on the brink of obsession. The Prince found her, but before he returned her to her mother, and blinded by his obsession for her, he had done unspeakable things to her. He held her captive there, and from it, she bore him a son. He did not want to raise his son living as a savage, and he tried to take Helena back home – but she refused. In a fit of rage he murdered her in cold blood. Filled with regret for what he had done, he had left his son on Helga Hufflepuff's doorstep, and ended his life with the very same knife he had killed Helena with. The son was raised under Helga's and Godric Gryffindor's care, and was later on believed to have been sorted into Gryffindor's House. Salazar Slytherin had left the castle for good by then, and Rowena died of heartbreak shortly after her daughter's funeral. This is how the name of Prince came to be. The name the boy had inherited from his father was passed onto the many generations that were yet to come.'

'All the way down to you,' said Tobias by means of confirmation.

'I am the very last of them,' said Eileen. 'Well, Severus, actually. Although it was you that gave him his name, and not me.'

'And how did his name become The Bloody Baron exactly?' asked Tobias.

'Because he still roams the castle to this day,' said Eileen. 'His ghost still lingers. His robes are covered in Helena's blood from the night of her murder, and he carries the heavy burden of chains by means of his own repentance. I believe he feels unworthy of the Prince's name, and would say that he was worth nothing more than a lowlife baron since the murder. This is how his name came to be. He is the ghost of Slytherin's House, but I never dared speak to him. Helena, too, lingers there as a ghost. She did recognise me as one of her own line, and has therefore shown me one of her mother's greatest secrets in the castle. A room, that would only appear to those who were in dire need of something. A brilliant piece of magic.'

'I don't care for the magic,' said Tobias with a scoff. 'And what of the other books?'

Eileen tossed the Pure-blood Directory aside and picked up Asiatic Anti-Venoms. 'Libatius Borage,' she said. 'A great potioneer from South America. He wrote Advanced Potion-Making, among other things. I was always very fond of his work. Severus may like this.'

'That's what I thought as well, but –' Tobias stopped himself from speaking. 'And what of the other book? It appears to be some sort of diary.'

'There's nothing in here,' said Eileen as she leafed through the diary, 'so I don't – oh, I recognise this name; T.M. Riddle. Tom Riddle. He was a fourth year Slytherin student when I came to Hogwarts. Brilliant, he was. Always had a gang of students strutting after him. Last thing I heard is that he went to work for Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, which always struck me as very beneath his capabilities. I think I may have seen him writing in this, as he was never one to hide what he was doing. Loved boasting about his achievements, even. Strange to see that there's nothing on the pages though. Either the words are hidden, or it has been erased on purpose. I do wonder how it ended up at Malfoy's manor.'

'I just picked it up along with the other two books,' said Tobias with a shrug. 'Perhaps this Riddle got involved with this supposed Dark Lord and the diary went along with him. I'll just leave these books in Severus' room, in case he ever does return.'

As much as she had grown to despise her husband over the years, Eileen had found it admiring that her husband was still holding on to the hope that their son would return. It gave her a sense of hope, too, to not give up on finding him. She had missed out on so much in the wizarding world since she was disowned for marrying a Muggle, and a desire to reconnect with the magic in her had grown stronger by the day. She, too, wanted to know more about this Dark Lord that Severus had somehow tied his name to, and she felt that it was time to go back to her roots. Starting, by paying a visit to Diagon Alley.

...o0o…

Dear Petunia,

First of all we would like to express our condolences to you,
although the words do not seem fitting if you don't know if someone is truly gone.
Lily has told us a great deal about you too. We know for a fact that she was very fond of you, and that the struggles between the two of you have always weighed heavy on her heart.
We miss Lily dearly, and more than anything we understand your need for closure.
We, too, would love for you to come and visit us. The tricky part lies, as you know, that the castle will not be visible to you. It is hidden under a layer of spells. It is therefore that we, if you'll forgive us, have shown your letter to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall. She has informed us that there is very little that can be done about it, but not all hope is lost.
Hogsmeade, the wizarding village nearby that we're positive you've heard about from Lily, is accessible to you. The Great Lake by the school is also not part of the school's protective boundaries, and so it will be possible for us to take you there.

There is a train leaving from Platform 9 ¾at 10:00on Monday the 19th of December. Alice and I are planning on staying at Hogwarts during Christmas break, so if you still wish to come, we can await your arrival at Hogsmeade station. We can also book a room for you at the Three Broomsticks.

Your truly and happy Hallowe'en,

Alice & Mary

Petunia did remember hearing about Hogsmeade. She had heard Lily talk so much about it that she would frequently clasp her hands over her ears and pretended not to hear it. A pang of disappointment had risen in her chest that Hogwarts would remain unobtainable to her, but it had come hand in hand with a spark of hope. She would be able to go on the Hogwarts' express. Her parents had told how great an experience it had been to walk through the wall between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross station to wave Lily off to school. The regret of never coming along to wave her sister off left a bitter taste in her mouth. The owl Alice and Mary had used to send the letter was still sitting in the windowsill, as though it understood that it was not to fly off until it got a letter to carry back to Scotland.

Hastily, she refilled her fountain pen with ink and began to scribble her response on a piece of paper.

This is more than I ever could have hoped for. I will be there. Thank you.

...o0o…

It had been many years, but Eileen remembered as though it was yesterday when she set foot inside Diagon Alley for the very first time. She had asked Tom, the new landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, to open the archway for her, stating that she was off to buy a new wand. Three up and two across, she thought to herself as the archway materialised. Some things never change.

She got tears in her eyes as she walked past the shops that she remembered from her school years. Flourish and Blotts. Eeylops Owl Emporium. Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. She was particularly happy to see Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was still there and that business was going well. With a great yearning in her heart she walked passed Ollivanders, but first she would have to go to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Fortius Quo Fidelius, she read above the bank's entrance. Strength through loyalty. As she walked inside, she thought back to the conversation she had had with her husband earlier that day. There was more to the story of Rowena Ravenclaw than she had told, and perhaps she didn't tell him because her story was shrouded in mystery, even to herself. Her beauty alone had been described as truly magical to behold, but Rowena was rumoured to never have been a witch at all. A rumour Eileen had always found to be particularly strange. She had only entered her family's vault once in her lifetime, when she was still a little girl accompanied by her father. She remembered that there was some commotion surrounding their entry to the vault, as it was rarely opened, and the Goblins spoke in whispers about it.

Eileen had clenched her fist around the golden key in her pocket. It was the only thing her father had left to her after he died, and she had treasured it dearly for when the day ever came that it was time to open it. There was a long line, no doubt because it was Hallowe'en and many wanted to make withdraws from their accounts to buy gifts.

'This is taking forever,' a young witch complained in front of her. 'Come on hurry up! I've got things to do and places to be!'

'Don't we all,' Eileen responded by means of making small talk, and looked at the young witch's face. 'You seem familiar somehow. Have we met before?'

'I certainly know you,' said the witch as they looked each other in the eye. 'You're Eileen Snape, Severus Snape's mother. I remember your face from the Daily Prophet. I'm sorry for what happened to him, truly. I can't imagine what it must be like not knowing what happened to your son.'

'And you must be Narcissa,' said Eileen as it occurred to her who she was speaking to. 'Our mothers were related through - well, you know how it is with the wizarding families. The last time I saw you, you were just a little girl, so I highly doubt you would remember me.'

'Related, you say?' said Narcissa. 'It never occurred to me that I was related to Severus somehow. I'd hate to tell you this, but I'm quite certain your mother was taken off the Black's family tree after she married – a Prince, wasn't it?'

'Yes she did indeed,' said Eileen. 'So how have you been? You speak of Severus as if you know him well.'

'I got married recently,' said Narcissa with a hint of pride. 'To Lucius Malfoy. Things have been going quite well for me – and as for Severus, Lucius was very fond of him at school. Very talented boy, he was.'

It took a lot of strength for Eileen to bite her tongue, knowing it was better not to mention that she knew Severus had been spending his last two Christmasses at Malfoy's manor, as it had meant to have been a secret. It was obvious that the pure-blood indoctrination had taken a hold on Narcissa too, and no doubt she was aware of her marriage to a Muggle, and was clearly looked down on by her despite the courteous exchange of words. 'I've been away for a very long time,' she said after a moment or two. 'Is there any news from the Wizarding world that I've missed?'

Narcissa's eyes shifted from left to right, as though she was trying to read the room. 'Quite a lot,' she whispered under her breath, 'but I think it's best not to speak of it here. Await my owl, and we shall speak of this another time. Happy Hallowe'en.'

Before Eileen could say anything, Narcissa was summoned by a Goblin at the counter, and never looked back. Confused, Eileen walked up to another counter on the other side of the hall, and placed the key in front of the Goblin. 'State your purpose,' he said without looking up.

'I wish to enter my vault,' said Eileen confidently.

'And which vault may that be?' asked the Goblin.

'The first one,' said Eileen. 'The one that my Prince ancestor opened during the founding of this very bank.'

The Goblin looked up at her with sudden interest. 'By orders of my ancestor Gringott himself, I shall accompany you there personally,' he said with a slight bow. The other Goblins must have taken an interest in what was happening, just as it had when she was a still little girl accompanying her father. The quills stopped scribbling, and the sound of coins being stacked seized to exist. 'Follow me, if you will do me the honour, miss Prince.' The Goblin led her to the vaults passages and whistled for a small mine cart to arrive. 'Best get comfortable,' said the Goblin as Eileen sat down. 'It's going to be a long ride.'

The cold wind felt welcoming on her face as the cart travelled down deep into the earth. Her short conversation with Narcissa had been peculiar, to say the least. If she wanted to learn more about this Dark Lord, Narcissa was bound to be her greatest source of information. Perhaps she should await her owl, and figure out a way to gain her trust. She was a Black too, after all.

There were roarings and rumblings in the deep. They passed through the Thief's Downfall, and fog lingered on their breath as the air grew stale and cold. 'We're nearly there,' said the Goblin. The cart came to a halt at the very end of the track. A plateau was lit by torches, and in the middle stood a vault that stood alone. The Goblin took the key and turned it inside the cast-iron door. 'It is an honour to open the Princes' vault,' he said as he stepped aside. 'The bank owes much to the family's fortunes. I shall wait here until you are finished.'

'Thank you,' said Eileen as she stepped inside. The vault was covered from top to bottom in gold and precious gemstones. Historical artefacts and paintings lay scattered, as well as many books and rare preserved potion ingredients. In the centre of the room stood a plinth with a velvet pillow on top, but nothing was presented on it. Most items had ones belonged to the very first Prince, and most, Eileen knew too, had been stolen from its rightful owners from around the world. Things I have no need for, she thought, but put a large sum of galleons and sickles in her pouch nonetheless.

'That'll be all,' she said as she stepped out of the vault.

After a while she had returned to the surface, and the sunlight stung her eyes as she made her way outside. With a bounce in her step, she headed over to Ollivanders, and the bell rang softly as she closed the door behind her.

'Well, well, miss Prince,' said Ollivander. 'Or perhaps I should say, Mrs Snape. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again?'

'I'm surprised you remember me,' she said.

'I remember ever wand I've ever sold,' said Ollivander with pride. 'Hawthorn. Ten and three quarter inches. Dragon heartstring, am I correct?'

'that is correct,' said Eileen. 'However, I've had a slight – incident, with it. I'm afraid it has been broken beyond repair, and I've come for a new wand.'

Ollivander shook his head in disbelief. 'It's always tragic when a wand leaves its owner. Are you looking for something similar to replace it?'

'Actually,' said Eileen, 'my hawthorn wand has served me well, and it has been like a friend to me during my time at Hogwarts. However, much has changed, and I think it's time for something new.'

'Very well,' said Ollivander, and started rummaging around the shelves in search of a suitable wand. 'I'm sorry to hear about your son,' he said as he opened a box. 'I remember as if it were yesterday that he walked in here with his friend, miss Evans. A yew wand. Thirteen inches, and containing a single unicorn hair. Hers was made of Willow. Ten and a quarter inch, containing a phoenix feather. Both highly unusual wands, for two unusual wizards. Here, try this.'

Eileen took the wand in her hand and swished it around. With a loud explosion, several of the boxes on his desk caught on fire. 'Aquamenti!' she yelled instinctively, and a waterfall poured out of the wand to extinguish the fire. 'Sorry about that.'

'Never mind that,' said Ollivander as he took the wand back from her. 'This is far too unpredictable for you. I have another idea.' He climbed up a ladder and grabbed a box from the top shelf. 'Here, try this.'

Eileen took the wand into her hands and liked the look and feel of it. 'Made from fir. Eleven inches, with a unicorn hair core,' said Ollivander. She gave it a swish and colourful sparks rose up from it. 'It seems to like you. My grandfather, Gerbold Ollivander, named fir wands "the survivor's wand" and is made from the most resilient of trees. I believe it suits you quite well dear.'

'Thank you,' said Eileen. 'This is exactly what I had been hoping to find. I feel as though I've got my power back.'

'I am glad to hear that,' said Ollivander. 'Would you like me to wrap it up for you?'

'There's no need,' said Eileen, who, though not really showing it, was feeling as elated as she had felt when she first received her hawthorn wand at eleven years old. 'Happy Hallowe'en.'

Eileen paid Ollivander seven galleons and left the shop feeling reborn. Before returning home, she treated herself to a Florean Fortescue's Butterbeer flavoured ice-cream and a new set of writing equipment. She felt as though the witch within her had reawakened, and for the first time since her son's disappearance, she felt a spark of hope rise within her.

...o0o…

'The Hallowe'en banquet's just not the same without her, isn't it?' said Mary.

'To be fair,' said Alice, 'she was usually hanging around with Snape anyway, getting into all sorts of trouble and what not. But you're right, something feels off and it just isn't the same without her. How are you boys commin' along?'

'We're nearly done!' yelled Remus down from the boys' dormitory. 'Oh bloody hell James just pull yourself together!'

A moment later the four Marauders came down the stairs, all dressed up and looking dreadful. 'By the looks of it,' said Mary to the four boys, 'we'll be going down to the feast without you lot. Let's go, Alice. Frank's been waiting for you by the Fat Lady's portrait.'

The Marauders waited for the remaining Gryffindors to leave the common room until they were sure they were the only four left. 'Moony's right mate,' said Sirius as he slapped James in the back of the head. 'Pull yourself together. You've been obsessed with finding any information on You-Know-Who's folks for too long now.'

'We could do with a celebration for once,' said Peter, who kept looking at the Fat Lady's portrait as though his body was already at the feast, and eating to his heart's content. 'C'mon Prongs! With a little bit of luck, they'll be serving Helga's roasted chicken legs – and you know those are my favourite!'

'What did you just say?' asked James, who was staring off into nothing.

'I said,' said Peter with emphasis on the words,' 'Come on Prongs! With a little bit of luck, they'll –'

'—that's it!' said James. 'Bloody hell Wormtail, thank you! You've just given me a marvellous idea!'

'I think he's lost it Moony,' Sirius whispered to Remus. 'Do you reckon St. Mungo's will –'

'—you idiots don't get it, do you?' said James. 'It's luck. Luck! Luck is what I need. Don't you all remember what old Snivellus won during Slughorn's potion lesson last year?'

'A bottle of Felix Felicis,' said Remus as he rolled his eyes. 'Best batch of Draught of Living Death that Slughorn had ever laid his eyes on – according to Slughorn. First student ever to win this highly acclaimed prize. Highly doubt Snape still has it though.'

'But what of the off chance that it's still in the Slytherin dormitory?' said James. 'I mean, Lily's belongings are still here – no, Padfoot, don't ask me how I know this – so perhaps Snivvy's belongings are still there as well. It would be worth trying to find out, wouldn't it?'

'Wormtail, do something,' Sirius gritted through his teeth. 'I think he's gone mad!'

'I think Prongs is about to grab his old Invisibility Cloak, and do something incredibly stupid,' said Peter, who seemed to have decided James' shenanigans weren't worth his time, and headed straight for the portrait. 'Best of luck to you Prongs, since it appears that that is what you so desperately need. I can smell the chicken legs from up here, and I'm off!'

'Words of wisdom to abide to,' said Remus. 'Wait for me Wormtail. I'm coming after you!'

'And what about you, mate?' asked James to Sirius when they were the only two left in the common room. 'Are you in this with me or not?'

'The Slytherin common room is located behind a bare stretch of stone wall at the end of the dungeon's tunnel,' said Sirius. 'You'll need a password to get in though, and that part I cannot help you with. If you do somehow manage to get in, just remember that you have entered a den of snakes that not even your Cloak can save you from.'

'Most, if not all, will be at the feast anyway,' said James. 'I just feel that this is something that I have to do, and now would be the perfect time to do it.'

'I understand,' said Sirius. 'Truly, I do. I just don't feel like this is something I can help you with, with me having all these Slytherin relatives and such. Best of luck to you, and I do hope to see you later at the feast.'

'I will do my absolute best to make it back on time,' said James.

As Sirius left through the portrait, James grabbed his Cloak and put it on as he made his way down to the dungeons. The air grew colder the deeper he went down. He knew he had travelled down far enough to be below the Great Lake, and found a bare stretch of wall at the very end. In front of it, he saw professor Slughorn speaking to a student, and listened to their conversation from a safe distance.

'For the last time, mister Goyle,' said Slughorn with a finger waving into the air, 'the password is Domus Serpentis!'

'It would be a lot easier if it didn't change up every couple of weeks,' Goyle answered with a scoff.

'No student from another House has entered the Slytherin common room for over seven centuries,' said Slughorn strictly, 'and I intend on keeping it that way. Now, off we go! The feast has already started and the treacle tart is calling my name.'

James waited until the sound of their footsteps disappeared down the tunnel. 'Too easy,' he mumbled to himself. 'Sorry Sluggy, but today Slytherin's record will be broken. Domus Serpentis!'

The stones in the wall moved until it formed into an archway, and revealed a much cosier common room than James had imagined to see. As expected, no students were to be found, and a school of Lobalugs swam over the dome, casting their shadows over the hardwood floor. It was fully decorated for Hallowe'en. The floating pumpkins formed a path all the way up to a spiralling staircase, and James figured that the dormitories were bound to be up there. Not daring to take off his Cloak, he made his way up and stopped by a door with a large number 7 on it. For the seventh years, no doubt, James thought to himself. The dormitory didn't look any different from his own in Gryffindor's tower, except that everything was clad in green rather than red. It also appeared equally as messy, with the exception of one bed that had its curtains drawn, the sheets tucked, and the books were neatly organised on a shelf. Meticulous, James thought. Never thought your obsession with organising your stuff would give you away so easily, don't you Snivvy? Under the bed he found a battered old trunk, and in it he found a pile of fresh parchment and quills stacked away. A small gift wrapped box that was tucked away into a corner had caught his eye. For Lily, whenever you may need it, the label on the bow read. James couldn't help but let out a snort at the sight of it. Not any more, you greasy git. He tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box. In it, he found exactly what he had been looking for. The small phial of Felix Felicis shone brightly as he put it in his pocket and tossed the box aside. He shoved the trunk back under the bed and looked at the books on the shelf. There we go, your precious potion's book. He took the battered copy of Advanced Potion Making and shoved it into his other pocket. This is bound to help me brew an excellent truth-telling serum.

Not wanting to waste any more time in Slytherin's common room, James rushed his way outside and ran his way up the tunnel back to the Entrance Hall. When he was certain he was alone, he took off his Invisibility Cloak and made his way inside the Great Hall. As though he was never gone, he joined his friends at the Gryffindor table, who were happily chatting away about all the great food that was being served. 'Easiest thing I've ever done,' he said proudly as he held up the small phial for only the four of them to see. 'Now, how about we start brewing that truth-telling serum you mentioned before, Wormtail? It's time to start prying some information out of that old man.'

...o0o…

'Where have you been?' asked Tobias with a scoff.

'I had lunch with the Evanses,' Eileen lied through her teeth.

'Who was Helga Hufflepuff?' asked Tobias, immediately changing the tone of the conversation.

'One of the founding members of Hogwarts,' said Eileen. 'Why the question?'

Tobias shoved a copy of Hogwarts: A History towards her. 'I found it in Severus' room. By the looks of it, it seems he reread the book a dozen times.'

'I remember him trying to impress Lily with this,' said Eileen as she looked at the book with great fondness. 'He asked me if he could have it after he met her. It was his way of trying to help her understand the magic in her.'

'That still doesn't answer my question,' said Tobias. 'Who was Helga Hufflepuff? I've been reading through this in your absence, you see. Rowena Ravenclaw's story of the lost diadem – or crown, as you called it – are in here. There's also a few passages about Godric Gryffindor and the significance of his glorious sword and his hat that became the Sorting Hat. Salazar Slytherin, yours and Severus' House founder, didn't exactly strike me as a very nice bloke. He's depicted as always wearing this fancy locket, and he left the school to go live with the snake worshipping druids in Ireland. Turns out, he's actually the snake Saint Patrick banished from the land.'

'It's all a bit more complicated than that,' said Eileen, 'but do go on.'

'Now Helga here,' said Tobias as he patted the book's cover, 'was a very jolly witch who enjoyed the company of her cete of badgers, and drank religiously from one very specific cup.'

Eileen did not understand where Tobias was going with this, but from the look in his eyes she could tell that he was being quite serious. 'The sword of Gryffindor is still at the school I believe,' she said. 'I suppose the artefacts are hereditary, though. The locket is most likely in the hands of whoever is a descendant of Slytherin, and Rowena's diadem is lost. Otherwise I probably would've had it, but alas it is gone without a trace. Helga's cup I suspect is no different from that; in the hands of her predecessor.'

'It's not!' Tobias spat. 'I know that it's not! What do you know of Gellert Grindelwald?'

'What do you know of Gellert Grindelwald?' asked Eileen in return. She could see that the anger in her husband's eyes was laced with fear. 'We've never spoken of this before.'

'I overheard this strange looking thing talk to someone named Walburga Black,' said Tobias. 'Kreacher, he called himself. Spoke of hiding Slytherin's locket – this Slytherin's locket,' he said as he tapped on the book, 'and hid it in a cave by the cliffs of Dover by orders of the Dark Lord. This Kreacher also spoke of having been to some place called Nurmengard, and mentioned that Grindelwald was indeed gone.'

'I remember Kreacher,' said Eileen, who felt her heart sink at learning that Grindelwald had disappeared from his prison. 'He's a house-elf, and he serves the house of Black. Walburga in particular, who is my aunt, and who he is very fond of. Grindelwald was defeated from what I've been taught, by none other than Albus Dumbledore. You remember meeting him, shortly after their disappearance.'

'The very same Headmaster whom we haven't heard from since that day,' Tobias barked back at her. 'Defeated doesn't mean the same as killed, Eileen. He's still out there, somewhere!'

'This is terrible news indeed Tobias, but –' but Tobias wouldn't let her finish speaking. He grabbed Hogwarts: A History and rushed his way up the stairs. 'Just leave me along for a bit!' he yelled. 'I need to think!'

He dropped the book on Severus' bed and sat down at his son's writing desk. He hastily grabbed a quill and a half-empty bottle of ink from the desk's drawer, and opened up Riddle's diary by means of needing a piece of paper to write on.

To Severus,

During my time in the army I met a man named Gellert Grindelwald.
He made me search for Helga Hufflepuff's cup, although he told me that among normal people it was known as the Holy Gr—

The words he had written faded away from the paper. 'What on earth is –'

Who is this?

Tobias wasn't sure whether to be frightened or not. Surely, a diary that wrote back couldn't be that dangerous. It had to be nothing more than a magic diary. I'm Tobias Snape,' he wrote back. Who are you?

My name is Tom Riddle.

Do you know anything about Gellert Grindelwald? Tobias wrote back.

He was a dark wizard during my time at school. Always after the Deathly Hallows. Always trying to find a way to cheat Death.

Tobias figured as much. He must have been held under some sort of spell that drove him to follow the madman into the trenches. Do you know if he ever found Helga Hufflepuff's cup?

He did, and then he lost it. It fell into the hands of one of Helga's predecessors. That is where I obtained it.

Tobias' heart started beating violently in his chest. How is that possible? he wrote. Can you tell me how you got it?

No.

But I can show you.

A/N It is estimated that Eileen Prince was born around 1930, meaning she would have started attending Hogwarts in (probably) 1941. Voldemort attended his first year at Hogwarts in 1938. He started his fourth year when Eileen was sorted into Slytherin. Therefore, they shared a common room together, and Eileen may very well know things about Voldemort because of this.

A/N It has sort of turned into a fanon canon, but Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor were never confirmed to be husband and wife. Stranger thing yet is that Rowena's daughter Helena, inherited the name Ravenclaw when it was common practise to receive the father's name. In other words, the man Rowena was with was never specified and perhaps there was an underlying reason for it.
We know from canon that Helena stole her mother's diadem and Rowena sent the "Bloody Baron" (true name unknown) after her. The rest I made up.

A/N In the sixth HP book, Harry unknowingly obtains Snape's old version of Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage. Slughorn states that only one other student has ever managed to win the Felix Felicis before when brewing the Draught of Living Death, and then Harry proceeds to brew the exact recipe that Severus wrote down in the book. Harry wins the Felix...meaning that it was Severus who was once the first student to win it, as it pertains the exact same potion.
So here's a question to the readers reading this A/N: What would Severus have done with the Felix after he had won it?

A/N Domus Serpentis is Latin for The House of the Serpent.

A/N The pagan druids of Ireland were known to worship serpents, and would even have tattoos of serpents on their bodies. The serpent, in many pagan nature traditions, is the symbol of 'earth powers'.
When Saint Patrick arrived (and told through story as literally waving a stave or wand), he drove out the 'serpents' of Ireland, which was actually a euphemism for dispelling evil (the pagans), as snakes never lived in Ireland to begin with. The country became Catholic after that.
By shear coincidence, today is actually Saint Patrick's day. So if there are any Irish readers out there, happy Saint Patrick's day to you!

A/N Fir wand: "My august grandfather, Gerbold Octavius Ollivander, always called wands of this wood 'the survivor's wand', because he had sold it to three wizards who subsequently passed through mortal peril unscathed. There is no doubt that this wood, coming as it does from the most resilient of trees, produces wands that demand staying power and strength of purpose in their true owners, and that they are poor tools in the hands of the changeable and indecisive. Fir wands are particularly suited to Transfiguration, and favour owners of focused, strong-minded and, occasionally, intimidating demeanour." - Wizardingworld

A/N Hawthorn wand: The wandmaker Gregorovitch wrote that hawthorn 'makes a strange, contradictory wand, as full of paradoxes as the tree that gave it birth, whose leaves and blossoms heal, and yet whose cut branches smell of death.' While I disagree with many of Gregorovitch's conclusions, we concur about hawthorn wands, which are complex and intriguing in their natures, just like the owners who best suit them. Hawthorn wands may be particularly suited to healing magic, but they are also adept at curses, and I have generally observed that the hawthorn wand seems most at home with a conflicted nature, or with a witch or wizard passing through a period of turmoil. Hawthorn is not easy to master, however, and I would only ever consider placing a hawthorn wand in the hands of a witch or wizard of proven talent, or the consequences might be dangerous. Hawthorn wands have a notable peculiarity: their spells can, when badly handled, backfire. - Wizarding world