Chapter 9: The House that Awaits
As soon as Aidan got home, he greeted his parents and went to take a shower. He was not dirty, since he had not even sweated. But he was exhausted and wanted nothing but to take a nap and wake up the following day.
Alas, life was never so forgiving. Aidan had left earlier in the morning, so after his shower he was bombarded with questions by his mother —most of which he deflected, choosing which to answer strategically. Afterwards, he had a long conversation with his father about the puzzle.
Jack, much to Aidan's enduring affection and occasional regret, was an irredeemable magic nerd. It was usually a subdued trait, but it was one that every now and again was brought to the surface by some of the harder questions Aidan posed regarding magical theory. Of course, the man went on a rant about the possible enchantments used to create the puzzle, the genius mix of runes and charms, and many other theoretical magical aspects of the whole thing.
Once his parents had satiated their own curiosities, Aidan was finally left alone to rest. As he had promised to himself, he spent the rest of the day doing nothing but scrolling through Witchagram, HexTube, and WizTok —the magical equivalent of social media.
The next day, with a rested mind, Aidan set towards his father's study, where the Pensieve was located. He had permission to enter whenever he needed, so there would be no problems with him using it. Besides, he had already told Jack that he would need to use the Pensieve the previous day.
Upon entering his father's study, Aidan stood before the Pensieve, the familiar basin shimmering faintly with swirling silvery mist. He reached out, fingers steady despite the flutter in his chest. This was it, the moment the puzzle had been leading to. Whatever lay within that memory would either unravel more questions or finally offer answers. Though he certainly hoped for the latter.
Dropping the memory into the Pensieve, Aidan hesitated for a few breaths before plunging his head into the swirling mist. Instantly, he felt himself being drawn into the memory.
*
Aidan stood, once again, in the place he had seen in both his dream and in the fresco. The place looked much different than in them though, with the muted blue of the memories dyeing its visage.
Looking around, he saw two people walking towards the entrance of the manor, followed by a big black feline with feathered wings —the Hemeris. If only it was not a memory.
"Edmund, we have to be quick." The woman said while looking around her, as if she did not feel safe where she was. The Hemeris hissed at her, taking offence in her tone. She answered, regret tinting her voice. "Oh I know sweety, but we are not safe."
"Don't worry, nothing will happen here, Beatrice, Morgott." The man, Edmund, told her and the Hemeris. "The wards are still strong, and they will be for the next millennia so long as the blood of our family still flows."
"I know, Ed." Beatrice answered. "But I can't help but worry. Half of us are already gone."
"We'll be quick then, for your peace of mind." Edmund conceded. "Morgott, I want you to stay here and protect our Ancestral Home."
Upon hearing Edmund's words the Hemeris, Morgott, began frantically hissing. It was bewildered, as if the thought of abandoning its human was something he could not fathom.
"You will forget your name and bond with a new master, as you have always done, through every generation of Haimadros." Edmund stated, ordered. That was what the Hemeris always did, after all. It was the only way they could re-bond with a new Lord.
"From this moment on, there is no Lord of House Haimadros, so your bond is null."
With those words, Edmund removed his Ring of Lordship —the same one Aidan was wearing— from his hand. As soon as he did, the Hemeris turned to stone. Aidan opened his eyes as wide as they could go. The legend was real, it would seem.
"I'm sorry my dear friend." Edmund told the statue of the Hemeris. "If you stayed with us, they would hunt you too."
"I will miss you deeply Morgott." Beatrice said. "You were always a better conversationalist than my husband."
Aidan wanted to see more, to learn more about his ancestors, about who was hunting them, but the memory was over, and there was not much more information he could get from it.
*
With the same gut-twisting, stretched sensation he experienced when Apparating, Aidan was pulled back into his father's study. He stood still for a moment, letting the silence settle around him. His mind was still reeling —not just from the memory itself, but from the weight of it. The words, the images, the magic... and something else.
He realised he'd felt more than he'd seen. The emotions, the undercurrents of thought —they had been clear, as if whispered into his ear. The memory hadn't just shown him what happened. It had let him feel it. The sorrow, the urgency, the loyalty.
It wasn't just a recording. It was a farewell.
"Probably some Haimadros shenanigan." He told himself, not knowing just how on the mark his comment was.
Aidan then thought of what he had discovered, and where he had to go next. The Hemeris was in his family's Ancestral Home —the Haimadros Manor— waiting for a new Lord to awaken it. Aidan felt a deep sorrow for the animal. He had felt it in the memory. the gut-wrenching pain at being told to stay, the quiet pleading not to be left behind. The longing to be with its family. Then... nothing.
He would go to that place as soon as possible and awaken that poor creature. At that moment, Aidan had completely forgotten about his wand. The quest he had set out on was no longer just about getting the feather for Ollivander. Now it was him trying to recover part of his legacy, while helping a loyal creature recover what it longed for —a family to belong to.
There was only one slight problem.
"I don't know where the Haimadros Manor is." Aidan realised.
*
"So... dad." Aidan said, trying to figure out how to bring the topic to Jack without getting scolded for thinking about doing something outrageous.
"Yes, son?" Jack asked, slightly confused at Aidan's mannerisms. After all, Aidan was quite a straight-to-the-point person when he wanted to ask something or for something.
"Do you think that, perhaps, maybe," He delayed the inevitable, but he knew he would soon run out of words to use. "You could Apparate to a place you have not been to before?"
"That is quite a complicated question, Aidan." Jack answered honestly, mulling it over before answering. "Technically, you can Apparate anywhere so long as you have enough magical power and a clear enough image of the place you want to go to."
Aidan's eyes lit up as soon as he heard his father's words. With a lighter heart, he continued his inquiry. "So, if I saw the place in a memory, I should be able to go there easily, right? Besides, it's here in England, so it shouldn't be a problem, magic-wise."
"Oh, well if you'd started with that, Aidan." Jack said, a lot more relaxed after hearing the context. "Being somewhere in a memory works just like having been there. Even a dream would suffice if the place is real. Apparating to locations you haven't been to is hard because it's more about convincing your brain you've been there before. You need sensations, not just an image. Those are things a dream or a memory can give you."
"Cool, thanks dad!" Aidan said before rushing to the backyard.
From the living room, Jack heard Aidan shout something to Ivy as he passed by the kitchen. "I'll be back by dinner, mum! I think!"
In the yard, Aidan closed his eyes, letting the images of the dream and memory swirl together in his mind. The pale white trees with their crimson leaves, the looming manor, the solemn figures —and above all, the Hemeris, bound in stone yet pulsing with silent longing. He reached deep into his blood, into the legacy that tied him to this place, to those who had come before.
It was more than just a vision; it was a living echo of his own history, a thread he could grasp and follow. Steeling himself, he breathed in the raw emotions of belonging and loss, the unfulfilled promise of a new bond. With that surge of emotion, his senses sharpened and the familiar pull of magic coursed through him. He raised his hand, focusing on the manor as though it were already under his skin. The world blurred, the space folded, and with a sudden jolt, Aidan was gone —hurtling toward the house that awaited its lord.