A Most Ancient Pureblood Family Chapter 38:

Elizaveta was used to seeing stately homes, not to mention ancestral homes. It was a requirement when you were the daughter of a diplomat who liked to visit people in their homes. Plus, there was an ancestral home on her mother's side they used during the holidays when time permitted.

But never had she seen one where it was so filled with heirlooms and antiquities of yesteryear and generations long past.

If there were anything modern here, she couldn't spot it.

'What do you think of our humble home?', Gilbert asked, she could tell that he was a bit nervous.

'It reminds me of Hogwarts, just more temperate.'

'How so?'

'Nothing here is from this century, is it? I mean, I don't know that much about antiques, although I can easily differ a Hepplewhite from a Louis XVI, but everything here is genuine antiquities, aren't they?'

'It's the Charm of this place.' frau Beilschmidt said.

'I'm sorry?'

'I mean that quite literally. This place is Charmed so that few things can be replaced, only repaired. Unless they've irrevocably fallen apart. And as tempting as it may be, they're also Charmed with Protective Measures and Counter-Curses to not be blasted apart.'

'Or chopped to pieces?'

'I knew I liked you.'

'Enough to tell me more about this Charm?'

'So, let me see if I get this straight; the Charm of this place not only makes things remain as they were, but it also stops you from putting up the Christmas decorations before the oldest traditions say it?'

'Yes.'

'And drops down them down at the 13th Day of Christmas?'

'Yes.'

'Who Charmed this place?'

'One of my ancestors in the 12th century.' a new voice said.

Every head turned towards the doorway.

There stood an older, unsmiling (but not in an unfriendly way) man who had a wrinkle-free face, long white hair and closely resembled hr. Beilschmidt and Gilbert, but even more Ludwig.

'They were worried that the next generation, or even worse, Muggles, would come in and ruin the "purity" our family had strived so much for. Our family has an unfortunate history of being pureblood fanatics. We've, of course, improved for the past generations,' here he gave, or rather, tried to give, a small smile of derision, 'but the Charms, Spells and such surrounding this abode and others with our names on it, are deeply embedded and would probably stay there even if we were to raze them to the ground.' the man was quiet for a moment, before he turned his attention towards Gilbert.

'Gilbert, won't you introduce your friend?'

'Elizaveta, this is my grandfather, Martin Beilschmidt, the German Diplomat to England. Grandfather, this is one of my friends, Elizaveta Héderváry of Gryffindor.'

'The daughter of the Hungarian Muggle Diplomat to England?'

'Yes, which begs the question; is it really safe for me here?'

'Yes, that Curse has been deal with.'

'So, your family's been here since the 12th century?'

'No, we've been here since the 8th century?'

'You don't sound sure.'

'The written records wasn't that accurate during that time. However, judging from the archaeological evidence, it was around then.'

'And you've stayed "pure" all this time?'

'Pretty much.' hr. Martin said with only the smallest trace of disdain.

Author's notes:

In the next chapter:

It took her brain a few minutes to comprehend what she saw outside the door, but when it did, it woke her up completely.