1170 Blessing

Sleeping through the entire Sunday morning and well into the afternoon, Rowan finally woke up. She lazily lay in bed and stared at the enchanted ceiling that glowed with swirling constellations at night. She had only eaten a bite of toast and orange juice, before stumbling away and falling sound asleep into bed. 

Feeling much more rested, Rowan got up and washed her face. Feeling refreshed, she made her way out of her bedroom and only paused to peek into Severus's bedroom. Severus has his back turned to her penning a note with his quill. Though guessing by the goofy lopsided smile on Severus's face, the letter is for his beloved, Lily.

Sound asleep in a cage covered by a dark silk cover is Owyn, the Great Horned Owl. Poor Owyn would soon be rudely awoken and forced to deliver a letter. Alas for that is the life of an owl who is bred to deliver the letters of wizards and witches throughout the world.

Making her way through the halls, Rowan passed by enchanted family portraits. The whole lot of them haughtily gaze down at her. Most of them are dark-haired, slender, and hawkish. Though there are a handful of cheerful portraits with good-looking men and women. Tragically, they either died young or simply married out of the family. 

However, it is the last portrait in the long line of portraits that catches her attention. The portrait is the only family portrait that is not enchanted but is still. The painted portrait is of a handsome enough wizard in his own way. He greatly resembles their grandfather, but unlike their grandfather, the wizard has cruel pitch-black eyes, a pair of spectacles hanging on a proud nose, and a wicked sneer. Then again it is better to say that their grandfather resembled the portrait of his father, Rancor Prince, her maternal great-grandfather.

Rancor Prince was more than just an awful father to his children rather was evil. At least that is what Rowan had gathered by various remarks from Aunt Georgine, Sir Knight Prince, and the occasional remark from their grandfather. However, she never did learn exactly what it was that Rancor Prince had attempted to do when he died. From what she understood he had been trying to kill his children and it backfired against him.

Rowan glanced at the enchanted portrait of a quiet man with a scholarly air about him, Terance Prince. The portrait had been painted in his elder years with a head full of sleek white hair. There is a tiny scar on the corner of his cheek, but overall, he seems rather mild-mannered despite greatly resembling his son, Rancor.

Yet Terance couldn't be that mild-mannered if he named his only child, Rancor, out of spite for causing the death of his wife, Regina during childbirth. Is it any wonder that Rancor turned out the way he did? Rowan could easily imagine how a neglected child could easily be swayed in the absence of love and care. If anything, Terance only had himself to blame. 

 Shaking her head, Rowan's eyes are caught by the empty spot next to Rancor's portrait. When the time came, her grandfather's portrait would be placed right next to his father's and his father's before him. (The portraits of wives or husbands who married into the family are kept in another wing). The only portraits permitted on this side of the hall are the direct bloodline of the Princes. 

Turning to the opposite end of the wall, Rowan struggles to breathe at seeing the still portrait of her mother, Eileen. She looked so very young with a rare hint of rosy cheeks. She looked amid young love. And perchance that was the case, secretly and madly in love with Tobias Snape, the whole world was ahead of her.

Swallowing loudly, Rowan looks away before glancing back with a strange sense of longing. She missed her mum. She presses her lips together in a mix of emotions. 

There was no enchanted portrait for her mother since Eileen had never sat for one. The only portrait is that of a passing artist, who painted the portrait of Eileen in her youth. It had only been recently added at Aunt Georgine's request to have to show Rodrigo in the future.

Shaking her head, she glances at the empty spot next to Eileen. When the time came, Aunt Georgine's still portrait would be hung right next to her aunt. Aunt Georgine swore she wasn't about to be painted like the rest of the portraits. 

Though Rowan had the distinct feeling her grandfather would pay extra to ensure that any enchanted portrait of Aunt Georgine could only move and not speak. However, she had the distinct feeling that the true reason why all the portraits in the manor are enchanted to move, but not speak is because the Prince's were full of secrets and they dared not even risk a portrait letting anything slip by.

Making her way to the attic, Rowan heard the sound of wizarding chess moving across the board as she approached. She stepped into the attic to find as usual the luminous, pearly head of Sir Knight Prince playing wizards chess against his ghostly body. The handsome face of Sir Knight Prince arches his brow at Rowan. 

"You smell of ancient magic, Rowan," Sir Knight Prince matter-of-factly stated. "I presume the ward rite was successful?"

"Yes, it was," Rowan answered as she took a seat nearby. 

Sir Knight Prince halts the chess match, and his ghostly body picks him up. Held at chest level. "Though how in galloping gargoyles did you sneak out from under the Black family's watch and to Hogwarts?'

Rowan smiles slyly and does not give a response.

"Youth these days," Sir Knight Prince rolled his eyes in exasperation, "think they have secrets to keep. Dear child, I am literally made of secrets."

"Pfft," a snort escaped from Rowan's lips.

 Sir Knight Prince alertly narrows his eyes as if spotting something on her. "Hold still," he abruptly gravely said before his ghostly hand touched her face.

Rowan feels her face freeze from the cold as if she has a brain freeze. It is an irksome, but weirdly painful feeling. She holds still as she feels her eyes water from the discomfort.

The ghostly hand pulls back as Sir Knight Prince appears to be puzzled. "You have been blessed," he thoughtfully murmured glancing in blatant curiosity at Rowan.

 Rowan's brows jumped up in surprise, "How did you guess?!"

Sir Knight's Prince's chin is stroked by his hand as he pensively furrows his brow. "Let me rephrase the question was an entity such as a Spirit summoned at the creation of the ward rit."

"It was not my intent to summon a Spirit," Rowan confessed, "but a Spirit did appear during the ward rite."

"Who?"

"Nehebkau."

"Nehebkau," Sir Knight Prince repeated out loud, his hand rubbing his chin in disconcertment. "An ancient Egyptian snake god. Most fitting considering the circumstances but appearing so far north is simply astounding. The Spirits, much like the realm of mortals, they too are bound to the lands which they inhabit, and where their power and might is the greatest. It is unusual for them to willingly cross into the territory of another Realm of the Spirit World."

"It is possible that Salazar Slytherin had ancestors from ancient Egypt or used Egyptian runescript in the formation of the Chamber of Secrets," Rowan hazarded to guess. 

"Both are distinct possibilities," Sir Knight Prince plainly admitted, before changing the subject. "Georgine sought fit to inform me of your early return from the Blacks summer home due to the unexpected but tragic passing of Bertha Crouch."

"Yes," Rowan sighed forlornly. "Two children now motherless. Far more concerning is the fact the newborn infant had been solely cared for by the elder son since birth." 

"Truly?" Sir Knight Prince arched his brows high in surprise. It is a rather unexpected action by a pureblood household.

"Truly," Rowan grimly confirmed. "Trust me, I was not the only one shocked. Believe me, the Black family elders were most stunned having been previously persuaded otherwise by the grieving husband, Bartemius Crouch (Sr.)"

"I see," Sir Knight Prince sagely said, before shooing her away with a ghostly hand. "I have a chess match to finish."

Rolling her eyes fondly, Rowan heaves herself out of her chair and decides to stop by to check up on Rodrigo in the nursery. She was certain that Aunt Georgine could use a break. And well, she was feeling much better rested now.

Sir Knight Prince did not immediately resume speaking but rather pensively furrowed his brow. The blessing upon, Rowan was a strong one. It was not intended to harm but rather to help to stabilize her magic. The trace of necromancy within Rowan had almost completely vanished. It was though her magic had been purified by fire.

Nehebkau in certain Egyptian myths was said to be able to breathe fire. There must be some truth to that after all. Whatever the case, the blessing of Nehebkau was greatly welcomed.

The change in Rowan would have to be informed to Reginald, but not as to the reason why. Let Reginald think what he will, but Sir Knight Prince would not give an explanation. He would still need to keep an eye on both children regardless. When it came to Necromancy, it could never hurt to check.

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