Hogwarts: The Blood Mage

Aidan studied the fresco carefully, his gaze drawn towards its outer ring. The symbols etched there were Greek runes, which he recognised from his classes on Ancient Runes. Sigma, Alpha, Mu (Σ, Α, Μ). Protection, Beginning, Magic. They weren't turning or anything. They just glowed in place... eerily. 

He knew the meaning of the runes, but he couldn't quite grasp why they were there at all. That was when he felt it. His ring, his magic, his blood, all resonating in unison, as if trying to tell him something. Then it clicked. A ring of runes. A ring. His ring.

Moved by an impulse that came not from thought but from instinct, Aidan raised his hand and channelled his magic through the ring, aiming it toward the runes above. The moment his magic made contact with them, they answered —and shifted. He could move them. The puzzle was responding.

If he could move the puzzle, maybe it had something to do with constructing a functional Runic System, like when enchanting an object? But that didn't make much sense —he only had one rune of each kind, and a proper system would require far more. Could it be about decoding their meaning? Translating them, like a language? Or perhaps the solution lay in their mathematical implications?

Aidan's thoughts spiralled, each idea leading to another, each theory unravelling the last. He tested possibility after possibility, always finding a flaw —but never the answer.

Aidan spent at least fifteen minutes trying different possible solutions, coming to the conclusion that he was tackling the problem from the wrong perspective. He was thinking like a scholar, like a Ravenclaw, but this puzzle wasn't a riddle left by the Bronze knocker at the entrance to his common room.

This was a contraption of the Haimadros bloodline, and he would have to think like them. Thus, Aidan decided to go back to the clues he had found in the book, repeating the last one a couple times. "Bonding is not taming, it is understanding. Something only us can do."

"Understanding... something only the Haimadros can do..." Aidan started muttering, sinking into his mind as his thoughts became clearer. He had the pieces, he could feel it. "Feeling... emotions. The Haimadros and the Hemeris could communicate through emotions. Understanding in this case doesn't mean solving, but empathising."

Aidan wondered how exactly he could empathise with a fresco painted in light and enchantments, but the answer came to him just as immediately as the thought, which made him feel quite dumb.

The Haimadros were proud of their blood, the source of their identity, the wellspring of their magic. It had already whispered secrets to him —shown him glimpses of the past, of places lost to time, and even revealed how to activate the puzzle itself. The key had always been in him. In his blood.

Thus, Aidan once again channelled his magic towards the puzzle, just that this time he did it not through his ring, but directly. As soon as his magic and the runes connected, Aidan could feel it. Emotions trapped within the runes and the image depicted by the fresco. 

Alpha represented the Beginning. The Beginning of the Haimadros was divine, but it did not come as a simple gift. It was a reward of sorts, given to them by their unwavering loyalty. Aidan had seen the moment, had seen the true friendship between Zagreus and Haimadros, but just that did not merit divine blood, even if just a single drop. House Haimadros had always been proud of their ancestors. Of their beginning. And Aidan could feel it. There was pride in the beginning.

Sigma was meant for Protection. This rune brought him back to the book he had read. The title wasn't simple penmanship. It was a literal message. Aidan could feel the primal desire to protect, as if something important would be lost if he did not. 'Of Beasts and Blood: The Guardians of House Haimadros'. The guardians were not just the Hemeris, but also the members of the House. They guarded their legacy, just like he would do from then on.

Finally came Mu, which represented Magic. In Runic Systems, Mu was used as the channel through which magic flowed, feeding the other Runes so they could fulfil their purpose. Then, what was Magic to the Haimadros? To them, their Magic was their Blood. In this case, Magic and Blood were synonyms. 

That was when it all clicked into place. To the Haimadros, blood was the beginning —the origin of their legacy and their bond with magic itself. And that beginning, that sacred inheritance, was meant to be protected at all costs. When seen through the eyes of the Hemeris, it was the other way around. They were the protectors who guarded the blood of their beginning. A mutual bond, etched into blood, magic, and time. 

Thus, Aidan began reordering the runes —not as the Haimadros interpreted them, but as the Hemeris would. After all, the puzzle was built on empathy. Sigma, Mu, Alpha. The ring began to turn, and the Hemeris in the fresco stirred. It slowly strode forward from beneath the white tree, approaching the edge of the fresco, closer to Aidan. That was when he saw it clearly. The creature wore a collar, and from it hung a small vial filled with shimmering silver liquid. A memory.

Understanding what the puzzle wanted from him, Aidan stretched his hand —his right one— and it entered the fresco. He grabbed the vial and, with a soft pull, it came off the collar. Now it rested in his hand, having been taken from its hiding place.

After solving the puzzle, all Aidan needed was to view the memory. Luckily, his father was an Unspeakable, and they had a Pensieve at home. Feeling the sudden need to check the time, Aidan cast a Tempus, a simple charm that projected the hour above his wand —Gringotts was one of the few places were phones did not work. It read eleven in the morning. He had just spent two full hours wrestling with the puzzle.

"Who makes a damn puzzle so complicated… in Greek?!" Aidan complained loudly as he left the Ancestral Vault, intent on heading home to do nothing for the rest of the day. He felt drained, both mentally and emotionally.

Aidan tucked the vial safely into his coat and let out a slow breath. The weight of his family's legacy —something he was starting to see as a suffocating responsibility— now felt different. It was no longer just a burden to bear, but a puzzle to unravel, a secret to uncover. It was still a responsibility, but it was also a mystery. 

He glanced around Diagon Alley, where everyday magic hummed without concern for ancient bloodlines or riddles. Somehow, amidst it all, he found a flicker of relief. 

"Finding this bloody magical cat will be easier than finding a decent tea at the Leaky Cauldron" he muttered dryly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Apparating away from the vault, Aidan felt the chase was only beginning —and oddly enough, he was ready for it.