Hogwarts: The Blood Mage

A few minutes passed as Aidan composed himself. His eyes were still red, but the tide of emotions had calmed. There was one room left to explore in Crimsonveil Manor, and he wasn't about to leave it untouched. He hadn't seen a single bookshelf in the entire place —and yet, Morgott had given him a book retrieved from within those walls. That meant only one thing. Somewhere, hidden in the house, was a library. 

With a hint of anticipation, Aidan opened the final door.

"Ah, so here you were," he murmured. "That would explain why the first floor felt smaller than it looked from the outside."

Before him stood the grandest private library he had ever seen —grander even than the ones tucked into old Scottish castles he'd visited with his parents. Not Hogwarts, of course —just ancient, storied estates with creaking wood and draughty halls. What he was seeing, however, felt different. It was alive in a way only a magical library could be. Two floors of books sitting on Veilwood bookshelves, the other thing in the room being two small reading tables in the middle.

Aidan could feel how every book called to him, asking to be opened, to have their knowledge consumed. And no, it wasn't just his thirst for learning or the inner Ravenclaw swooning at the sight of endless tomes. They were literally tugging at his magic —his blood.

Thus, he focused on those connections, something that was becoming more and more natural to him, and anchored his thoughts around a single idea.

'Mute the connections.'

Nothing else. No emotion, no curiosity. Just that quiet command.

'Mute the connections.'

And then, as if the pull had never been there at all, it vanished. The room quieted in his senses. The pressure lifted.

Aidan reached into his coat and pulled out the book on wandmaking. He focused on it now —just it— trying to sense where in the library it wanted to go, where it belonged. Then he felt it —an empty space in the third bookshelf on the first floor. Without wasting any time, Aidan crossed the room and returned the book to its rightful place.

He could feel the library humming with glee at being complete, but he did not linger for long on how alive the place was —he already knew Crimsonveil Manor was a living house, he needed no reminder of that. 

"Well, while I would love to read every book in here this very same instant," Aidan said, as if talking to the library itself. "I still have to check out all the books from the vault."

Feeling how the magic in the library calmed at his words, Aidan decided to leave the room. As he turned to leave, a faint click echoed behind him.

Aidan stopped mid-step. He slowly turned back toward the bookshelves. One of them —a tall, narrow case near the far corner— had shifted. Just slightly. No more than a finger's width, but enough to break the perfect symmetry of the wall.

Morgott lifted its head from where it had been curled up beside the door, ears pricked forward.

Aidan took a cautious step closer. The shelf didn't look enchanted —at least, not obviously— but now that he was paying attention, he could feel it. A slow, steady thrum in the air, like a heartbeat pulsing through the floorboards. The kind of presence that his family's magic left behind, though unmistakably muted.

He placed a hand on the wood and pushed. The shelf glided inward, revealing a stone staircase behind it. Dust clung to the air like mist, undisturbed for decades —or more.

Morgott moved beside him without a sound.

"Well." Aidan murmured, glancing at the Hemeris. "This seems like exactly the kind of thing I shouldn't be walking into."

Morgott meowed in response. Aidan chose to interpret it as approval to enter.

Walking into the dark stone staircase, Aidan reached into the inner pocket where he always kept his wand. He didn't feel in danger —and his old wand certainly wouldn't be of much help if he did— but he could at least light the way with a simple, functional Lumos.

Once everything was lit, Aidan realised the steps led far deeper than a typical basement —perhaps more like a rite-chamber. Or maybe a hidden archive. Or a room for experimenting on people.

Wincing at that last thought, he decided to stop thinking altogether and just head down the stairs.

For what felt like at least two full floors, Aidan walked down the staircase. Fortunately, it didn't go any deeper. He emerged into a room that was the complete opposite of the cold, stony descent —a well-lit, finely furnished eighteenth-century study, warm and inviting, with only a few books scattered across the single desk.

Stepping forward, Aidan sat in the cushioned, Victorian-style chair and reached for the first book.

"Blood Magic: Legacy of House Haimadros." He blinked. There were no books like this in the Ancestral Vault. He reached for the second. "The Gift of Blood: Awakening."

His breath caught.

These weren't just books. He could feel the power in them — not just old magic, but his magic. Blood magic.

"These are grimoires…" he whispered. "Grimoires of House Haimadros and their unique magic."

He paused, then corrected himself softly. "Our unique magic."

Aidan was a Haimadros — just as much as he was the son of Jack and Ivy Thorne. And he would never forget either.

Seeing what he was seeing, Aidan realised why the only book that was deeply tied to the Haimadros in the vault was 'Memories of the Haimadros, 1507 Edition'. Vault 57 had been a compass all along —Crimsonveil Manor was the north it was pointing towards.

Everything had been meticulously planned so that any heir of the House would be able to discover the very same grimoires he was looking at. Edmund's generation of the family had laid the breadcrumbs, Aidan had been smart enough to follow them. 

He had finished reading the one History book tied to the Haimadros in the Vault. He knew that the books left there were not that important. But the ones right in front of him... those were real treasures. 

Not wasting any more time, Aidan grabbed 'Blood Magic: Legacy of House Haimadros' and opened it on the first page, feeling the magic in the book pulsing with happiness as its master absorbed its contents. 

"The Haimadros bloodline has a deep connection to Blood Magic because of the Gift of Blood given to Haimadros the First by Zagreus, the God of Blood, Resurrection, and Rebirth." Aidan read the contents of the prologue. "Through time, we have systematised the magic gifted to us, creating this book you read now. It is our hope you will find it most useful."