Sitting at the red oak study desk in her bedroom, Rowan finishes writing a letter of response to Tiffany as promised. Rowan lets the quick-drying ink dry as she glances at the two other finished envelopes on her desk. Silvia's own letter had been rather short and easy to write, while Bethanie's reply had been a bit more painstaking detailed as Bethanie's had been rather detailed in her own written account. And fair was fair.
Reaching into a desk drawer, Rowan pulls out an elegant letter stamp with her initials carved onto it, R.P. Below the cursive letters is the Prince Family crest, a wyvern intertwined around a sharp dagger. Her eyes linger momentarily on the crest, before reaching for red enchanted sealing wax. Unlike muggle sealing wax, where one had to melt said wax, merely slicing off a small amount off the bar and pressing it onto the envelope caused the same effect.
Certain that the ink had dried, Rowan neatly folds the letter and places it inside the already addressed envelope that already held a delicate pair of earrings. Taking a small letter opener, she slices off a small dab of the sealing wax block. The wax melts perfectly as it was enchanted to do as she presses her personal stamp into the envelope effectively sealing it shut. Letting the wax cool, she tides up after self, before finally sighing in relief.
Glancing out onto the green summer grounds, Rowan sighs to herself, "Hard to believe we're already more than halfway through summer. Time really does fly, when you're having fun." Glancing over at the cooled wax, she grabs all three letters and heads downstairs to find Dawn.
To her great luck, Dawn is on her way to the parlor with a cart full of pastries for the current ongoing tea party. "Are they still here?" Rowan warily asked.
"Yes, young mistress. Lady Sirsa is still in the midst of hosting her annual summer tea party," Dawn happily answered. "Was there something you were needing from Dawn, little mistress?
"Would you be so kind as to send these off, once you're done with your present duties?" Rowan requested as she held out three written letters.
Dawn's long fingers happily curl around the letters. "It would be my pleasure, young Miss. I'll send them right out, after this."
"Thank you," Rowan gratefully said, before turning away and heading off to seek sanctuary in grandfather's study. Her grandmother had wanted her to attend the tea party as well, but Rowan had begged to be let off as she still needed to write a response. Her grandmother finally assented after learning exactly who it was that she was replying too. Of course, it was merely postponing the inevitable, sooner or later, Rowan would become a patron of these social events.
Not even bothering to knock on the door, Rowan steps into the study to find the older and younger Prince with their heads huddled over a rare potions journal. There was an enchanted warded door in the corner of grandfather's study that she and Severus had not been allowed to before. And despite now seeing the door, the laboratory was heavily warded and locked against anyone entering except for grandfather and Dawn. Even grandmother and Aunt Georgine were not allowed to enter the premise. As for visitors, they would never able to see the door as the door was enchanted to remain invisible from prying eyes.
According to Aunt Georgine, it was grandfather's private laboratory. Apparently, it was grandfather's lifelong dream to find the cure to the Dragon Pox disease. According to him, the present cure that existed only tended to work on those healthy and young. Said cure did nothing for those with already weak health or the elderly. And because a close friend of his had died in their youth and ever since then, grandfather had made it his lifelong dream to find a better cure for Dragon Pox.
"Pray tell, exactly what is so fascinating about that musty old book?" Rowan grumbled as she shut the door behind her.
Severus reluctantly lifts his head to glare at her. "I will have you know this is a rare potions tome, that not even grandfather had come across before. It shows potions that I'm sure to have already been forgotten and other existing potions brewed in entirely different manners. To any potions enthusiast, this is a treasure trove of knowledge. But I wouldn't expect you to understand given that, Rowan given that you only ever have passing marks in Potions."
"True enough," Rowan muttered with a shrug as she walked over the study library bookcase. The bookcase that expanded from wall to wall and floor to ceiling held an entire library worth of books. The books were enchanted to be smaller and thinner in the bookcase, but once removed the volume would expand to their full size. Naturally, the restricted volumes were sitting at the very top of the bookshelf safely out of reach of curious hands.
Rowan reached for the volume she was presently reading, The Magical Existence of the Body and Soul by Zenith Eructis. And though it did indeed sound like a how too, it was most certainly not. It was an old manuscript that sought to prove how different the body and soul of a wizard was that to a muggle. Not necessarily pure-blood propaganda, but the writer did make some excellent points that made her wonder a bit how the writer had acquired said knowledge. But if she was perfectly honest with herself, she did not really want to know the answer to that question.
Seeing that his granddaughter had taken her usual seat, Reginald asks, "And how goes your research anything interesting?"
"Yes, and no," Rowan grumbled. "The writer makes the most excellent point in his writing, but he tends to forget or purposefully exclude the fact that wizards and witches can crossbreed with muggles. And if so, there are only two explanations for such an occurrence.
The first being, that we and muggles have or share a common ancestor that allows us to crossbreed. Or the second, that muggles and we are one and the same, and rather that we were the ones that somehow mutated and evolved quite differently to them. In which case, all arguments of pureblood supremacy are irrelevant as the concept of blood purity in itself is a lie, but rather a more modern approach to separate ourselves from them, which is those lacking in magic."
"And will either answer make that a difference in your own research?"
"Yes, it will to some degree. If it is the first hypothesis, that would imply that we were very different species from the very start and that only an ancient ancestor or more recent crossbreeding's allow us to continue to interbreed. In which case, the proof is found in said product, squibs. And though wizard ancestor permits squibs to see magic and co-exist in our world, said muggle ancestry is the reason for their lack of magic.
In which case, said hypothesis, favors the argument and is in favor of pureblood supremacy. Also thusly proving the same in reverse that the same is true for muggle-born wizards being the direct result of ancient or modern-day pureblood wizard ancestry."
Seeing his granddaughter pause for a breath, Reginald hides his amus.e.m.e.nt and says, "But what?"
"However, I am more inclined to believe the second hypothesis."
"And why is that?"
"Because the second hypothesis correlates with my own research. That is that humans were all one in the same, but rather for some reason or another magic choose to accept and change our ancient ancestors, which allowed for their magic to be passed down to their children. If that is the case, then squibs are not a case of a mistaken ancestry, but rather a product of an illness in the blood from one or more factors.
Proving that muggleborn wizards are not, in fact, random products of magic, but rather the product of having some wizarding ancestry and is the direct result of the correction of the illness from squib ancestors. Therefore, signifying that they are indeed not muggleborn but rather wizard-born and should instead be instead welcomed into wizarding society as returning prodigal children that they are. And if so, they should be allowed to claim or be accepted into the original ancestor bloodlines which not only would increase blood purity, but rather bring back to life dying bloodlines and lines that were thought to originally be extinct," Rowan breathlessly said with some excitement.
Reginald chuckles at his granddaughter's enthusiasm. "Well, you certainly have that all figured out, don't you?"
Flushing with slight embarrassment, the tip of her ear's turn red. Avoiding the teasing glance of her grandfather, Rowan says, "I know it is unrealistic of me to think that everyone will accept the idea. And even if, I am able to prove my hypothesis, that does not mean said descendants will be accepted into said families.
Still, it is an opportunity for a revival of old bloodlines to return and for those considered to be muggleborn to feel that they too are a part of our ancient world, and in turn, preserving the traditions that purebloods and wizards alike treasure. But most importantly, to find a cure for the blight, and thus allowing for those considered squibs to finally have that which an illness denied to them, magic."
"Well, the cure for squibs would certainly be groundbreaking," Reginald carefully mused. "But at the same time, it would be a most dangerous endeavor as it would be seen as challenging blood purity."
"I am not challenging the idea," Rowan countered. "Rather, I am arguing the point that muggleborn wizards should not be seen as a threat nor as lesser because of their blood. I would be challenging blood purity if I argued that they marry muggles, which I am not. Though I would certainly point out that the influx of new blood from the so-called muggleborn wizards would be in their best interests to accept."
Severus loudly sniffs and interrupts, "Theory is all good and that, but you're going to need a potions master to concoct the potion required to reverse said illness."
A slow smile appears on Rowan's face as she teasingly says, "And where would I be able to find such a potions master?"
Sniffing indignation, Severus says, "I've already read and learned the potions up to year seventh. I am most certain that not only can I improve upon them, but even increase their efficiency. Which not only proves my vast talent but showcases that I have an excellent chance of becoming the youngest Potions Master in hundreds of years."
"Then is that an offer?" Rowan further teased.
"Take it or leave it!" Severus snapped.
"I would be most honored if Master Severus, would aid me in my future endeavors," Rowan grinned.
Severus snorts as Reginald hides a smile at their antics. "On that note, grandfather, Severus really does seem to have a talent for potions. Would it not be an excellent idea to apprentice him to a potions master, early on?" Rowan idly remarked.
Severus perks up with pride as Reginald replies, "Not yet, he has yet to master the basics nor much less improve upon potions as he so boasted. Nor has his magic matured enough for him to stand the long hours required to brew the more difficult potions. And though he has learned potions up his seventh year, he has yet to actually brew all of them."
Severus wilts under his grandfather's words causing Reginald to pause. "But I will reconsider for your fourth year. If you have improved enough by the end of your 4th year, I shall permit during the summer, before the start of your 5th year to take the C.S.A.E., the Comprehension Student Apprenticeship Exam. And only upon passing the exam will I search for a Potions Master for you to apprentice to Severus. If not, we shall wait until after your 5th year to try again."
"Thank you, grandfather!" Severus appreciatively said with adoration in his eyes.
Reginald turns to Rowan and says, "The same can be said for you, Rowan. Should you be able to pass the C.S.A.E, I will search for a Spellcrafter for you to apprentice under. Those powerful enough to craft spells rarely ever take apprentices nor much a student. However, be forewarned the exam is equivalent to taking the N.E.W.T.'s."
"That's not very fair," Rowan grumbled under her breath.
"No, it is not, but the exam does showcase whether you are as brilliant as you believe," Reginald said with a raised eyebrow. "I have no doubt you will fail portions of the exam, but you should exceed in the portions in which you have talent therein. And if the exam is completely failed, the chances of a master accepting either of you in the future are even less. Is that still an acceptable risk?"
Severus and Rowan exchanged glances before nodding their heads in agreement. "Good, now then, shall we return to our previous endeavors?" Reginald rather pointedly commented. Taking their cues, they each returned to their tasks at hand and lost themselves in the wonders of research. For better or for worse, the three of them were more than a bit of bookworm's.