The Sorcerer’s Legacy

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works, if you recognise it from somewhere else, surprise it isn't mine.

Betad by morde24, Atrius, Hermes, Priapus, Marethyu, Old man of the mountain and TheDonFluffles

The Sorcerer's Legacy

Chapter 01: The Beginnings of Greatness

Second place, again.

For another person, being in the top three students of my year would have been enough, many would be thrilled with being in the top quarter.

Not me, and as I look down at the parchment informing me of my grades for third year, I scowl slightly before I sigh and place it down.

I already know who beat me, the same person who beat me in first and second year, despite the disadvantage of not being able to practise during the summer, Hermione Granger.

I wouldn't call her my rival, she's more of an obstacle and a reminder of my weakness. Frankly it's a miracle I've managed to cling to second place given my… condition, but that alone shows that my theoretical knowledge surpasses Granger's.

It's the practical side of things that has eternally doomed me to second place, to never be able to get past that book-obsessed Gryffindor.

To put it simply, if my magic was any weaker I'd be classed as a Squib, but thankfully, while my magic is incredibly weak (especially compared to my siblings), it is enough that I can still cast spells, to an extent.

Spells my brother Damian could cast all day without any effort leave me tired and breathless, spells my sister Morrigan could use to create a roaring inferno give me some lukewarm flames.

I can do enough to pass my tests, but my condition makes me ill-suited for anything practical like duelling, I can't chain spells together because I need to stop and take a break after every serious cast, I can't break through another duelist's shield or hope to block any serious spell with my own shield charm.

This has been my life from the moment I got my wand, twelve and a half inches made of walnut wood with a dragon heartstring core (an almost perfect match for the wand my aunt Bellatrix apparently used before her incarceration).

I don't know why I've been cursed with such weakness, especially when all three of my siblings are such powerhouses, not to mention my parents themselves.

The son of a famous monster hunter and an infamous sorceress shouldn't be so weak, my mother theorised that my weakness comes from my father's modifications.

My father was a monster hunter of incredible renown, able to hunt creatures alone that would cause trouble for an entire squadron of Aurors, but in the process of becoming a monster hunter he had mutations induced in his body to make him stronger and faster.

These mutations should have left him infertile, but my mother found a way to work around that, and while Damian, Morrigan and Keira came out just fine, I've been plagued with this weakness my entire life. My mother claims she thinks that what she did to bring back his fertility was wearing off by the time she was impregnated with me, not noticing until it was too late.

An unfortunate side-effect of what made my father so strong, making me so weak.

I don't blame either of them, of course. My father died shortly after I was born, killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort (after killing several of his inner circle). Geralt Raum didn't go quietly into the night and even Voldemort was said to have been brutally wounded in the battle, vanishing for months after my fathers death.

Yennefer Raum-Black raised us alone, and while her approach to motherhood could certainly be cold and demanding, I have no doubt she loves all of us. Even Damian, as hard to believe as that is.

Apparently, she'd been a force to be reckoned with during the war herself, the Dark Lord tried to recruit my parents since both the Raum and Black families are old magical names, with dark pasts, and then to eliminate us when my parents laughed in the face of his attempts.

But the Raum manor is a fortress, a fortress with a very angry sorcereress inside who had months to prepare for any assault, and it was only the fact that she was raising and protecting us that prevented her from being at my father's side during that battle.

Some whisper that if she'd been there, my parents would have either forced Voldemort to retreat or outright slain him themselves.

But that didn't stop her from cutting down many of Voldemort's followers to avenge my father, so many that her name is both feared and respected by both sides of the war.

Even after the war, she made sure that many of the death eaters who tried to escape justice with claims that they were under the Imperius curse would find no escape.

Some did, like a certain Lucius Malfoy (though at the cost of most of his fortune, reputation and political power), but she used her own reputation and influence to make sure a great many of them took a one-way trip through the veil.

Of course, Dumbledore said she was too brutal, and his followers demonised her, but I highly doubt she cared then, and she certainly doesn't care now.

After the war, she semi-retired from the public eye to the Raum manor, to raise me and my siblings away from the war-torn magical society.

Thankfully, while she disappeared from the public eye, she did make sure to maintain the Raum and Black houses investments and political power, taking advantage of the chaos after the war to increase the family's already considerable wealth and power even further.

It's why I can't really scorn my fate. Sure, I was born with this accursed weakness, but I was also born into the richest family in Europe (and maybe the world), along with one of the most powerful ones.

It's why my fellow Slytherins keep their scorn to themselves over my near-Squibness, even when any weakness can make you a target in our house.

Well, it's that and the fact that most of my house-mates fear Morrigan, who has a habit of using those who bother her (or me) as practice dummies for her spells.

Laying on my bed, I grab one of the books I took from the family library and start reading. The Raum Manor has one of the largest private libraries in the world, and certainly one of the best in terms of sheer quality and rarity.

It helps that my mother moved the entire Black library here after she became Lady Black, two of the oldest families combined and centuries of collecting rare books has made this place unparalleled in my not so humble opinion.

Some of the rarest books in the world are sitting on those shelves, though I don't have free reign over the library, as my mother placed some incredibly complex security charms on them and even sealed entire sections.

I'm not surprised, some of those books are dangerous, and while the Raums and Blacks have a history of using dark magic, it makes sense that she isn't eager to just let us study them at will.

Magic is a tool, fair or foul, but some tools require a lot more finesse to safely use.

Morrigan has access to many more books than I do, and I know she's delved deeply into the darker subjects. Many of the spells she knows are borderline illegal (and many more are likely blatantly illegal), but as arrogant as it sounds, those laws are for other people.

Literally, our mother arranged for Minister Fudge to sign a law that permitted certain 'pedigreed and responsible' families to study and use otherwise-restricted forms of magic.

After the Dark Lord fell, the Ministry (pushed by Dumbledore) made a push to outlaw or restrict what they saw as 'dangerous' magic, which happens to include the family magic of quite a few older families. The law was a middle ground, allowing the more traditional (and powerful) families to continue using their family magic while outlawing other people from teaching it. I could learn and use countless restricted spells but the moment I taught it to someone outside of my family (assuming they weren't part of another family that gets the exemption), I'd be breaking the law and face some very heavy fines.

We can't go around casting the Unforgivables, but as Raum-Blacks we can get away with a lot more than most. There's a lot of benefits to being a Raum-Black, the lack of a trace on my wand being simply one of them.

The reasoning was that many of the newer laws made the family spells of older, more traditional, families illegal, which was an entire mess after the war when the restrictive laws were pushed through.

A knock on my door makes me raise my head, watching the door open as the woman in question walks into the room, wearing nothing but a lacy black nightie, see through in some places as it hints at what if barely conceals.

"Grayson, I wanted to ask one last time since we'll be setting off early tomorrow, you are certain you don't want to come with us?" Yennefer asks, making me pause before I nod.

"I have no interest in Quidditch, and Damian is going to be unbearable when Ireland beats his precious Bulgaria," I scoff, making her blink as a slight smirk grows on her lips.

"You seem certain for someone who isn't interested in the sport," Yennefer says, making me nod.

"Ireland have a solid team of talented players, Bulgaria have Krum and nothing else worth mentioning. Ireland will crush Bulgaria but Krum will catch the snitch. Besides, even if Bulgaria wins, Damian will simply be a different type of unbearable," I say, making her chuckle slightly.

"Morrigan said the same, without your particular insight into the match, she'll be staying behind as well," Yennefer says, making me nod, unsurprised. "I'm not that eager to go myself, but I promised Damian if he got at least five Outstandings I'd let him attend and I don't trust him and Keira to go alone."

My lips twitch at that, Damian is going to be seventh year soon, but he's not grown mentally at all. Keira isn't much better, though I get along far better with her.

She pauses as she sees my discarded letter, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Second place?" Yennefer asks, making me nod.

"Granger wins again, a perfect score on my theoretical exams, with some black marks on the practical side," I say with a frown.

"I see," Yennefer says, a mixture of pride and judgement in her tone, making me stiffen slightly. I'd be lying if I said her approval wasn't important to me, and it makes me all the more bitter at Granger taking away first place.

With every year, the classes become more practical and the gap between us only grows deeper. It's only my domination of Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures where my condition doesn't hold me back as much that keeps me in second place.

It's how I know I'm smarter than her, any class where my condition doesn't sabotage my efforts, I come out ahead of her (not by much admittedly but by enough).

She easily bests me in Charms, Transfiguration, Defence against the Dark Arts and annoyingly 'core' classes seem to count for more when they're deciding who is the top student of every year.

Or maybe she's just too close to me in the theoretical classes for me to close the distance when I'm falling behind in the practical classes.

"We will be gone for the day, and will likely stay at the campsite for the night, assuming my patience for public events isn't exhausted by that point, I take it you will be able to take care of yourself?" Yennefer asks, making me nod easily.

I'm an independent man (boy if I'm being honest.)

"Excellent, now I realise I've been busy of late and we haven't had time to practise but I want to make sure you haven't been slacking in your mental training," Yennefer says as she approaches and sits on the edge of my bed.

Preparing myself, I nod at her and before I've even finished, she's in my head. It's an old game, and as I feel her probing my Occlumency barriers I shore up my defences and prepare to hold her off.

She's alway insisted on us practising Occlumency, but Damian and Keira both stopped after getting the basics down and even Morrigan didn't go as far as Yennefer has pushed me.

She gets through of course, she's a true master of the mental arts and while my defences are solid, all it takes is a single tiny crack for her to get inside, but my mental palace is good enough to know the moment she gets in. Nobody can get into my head without me noticing, and the fight's not over yet.

I know what memory she's looking for, it's the same one I always have to defend during these tests, images flashing before my eyes as she scours my memories, but I counterattack.

Drowning her in useless memoires, I delay her search, false trails and fake memories get in her way as she fails to find her target.

I love Occlumency, to be honest. It's a branch of magic where subtlety and control are far more important than sheer power. Sure, someone could simply try and plough through my defences, but they'd find my mind a maze, endless twisting corridors that lead nowhere.

Mother gets close to where I've hidden away the memory, several times in fact, so close that I almost think she's just teasing me, that she knows where I hid it the entire time, but eventually I manage to banish her from my mind, opening my eyes as I watch her gasp, seeming genuinely surprised I pushed her out.

"Impressive, Grayson," Yennefer finally says, making me smile slightly. "I hid something in the mansion earlier today, I want you to find the memory of where I placed it."

Ah, I'm worse at Legilimency but she never makes it too hard, knowing that she could easily shut down my attempt to enter her mind.

That said, she doesn't make it too easy. That she hid it today gives me a timeframe of where to search, hunting for recent memories as I watch her wake up, sitting up in her bed as she stretches, the quilt falling down to reveal her perfectly formed breasts, exposed thanks to her habit of sleeping naked.

It's not the first time I've seen them, she's far from shy, but I can't deny I pause for a moment even knowing this isn't the memory I'm looking for as I watch her slip out of bed, in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties, only leaving when I feel her amusement at the source of my paused search.

Embarrassed, I move forwards, I don't find the memory in order as I watch her scolding Damian for something, the sun already set.

Much like how I flooded her with useless memories of me eating or studying, Yennefer turns the tables on me, but her chosen memoires that she throws in my path are less… boring.

A memory of her morning shower flashes in front of me, slowly peeling off her panties as she steps into the shower.

I revealed a weakness, hesitating at the sight of her body, and mother isn't the type to let something like modesty stop her from capitalising on a weakness.

I slip out of the memory but she has the next one prepared, much more recent as she lays on her bed, slowly pumping a thin black wooden phallus into her tight slit, moaning as one hand gropes her breast.

The gown she's wearing right now is resting on the end of her bed, was this just before she came to speak to me?

Not letting myself be distracted, I push forward and for a moment I get a glimpse of Yennefer holding a wrapped package, placing it on a shelf in the library.

The connection breaks immediately, but I got what I needed and then some. As I blink, I can't help my gaze lowering to her barely covered breasts for a moment, seeing the sheen of a thin sweat.

Her regular perfume of lilac and gooseberries is covering up another scent, something citrusy as she smiles proudly.

"You've improved," Yennefer says simply, a smirk on her lips as she notices my lingering gaze.

"You've been a demanding teacher," I reply calmly as I meet her deep violet eyes (the same ones I inherited from her), making her nod in acknowledgment.

"That I have, and you've met my expectations time and again," Yennefer says with uncharacteristic warmth which catches me by surprise. "I'll leave you to your reading, I suspect I'll be gone before you wake up tomorrow so I shall see you once this farce of a trip is over."

Standing up, she walks away slowly as I consider her words. She's not cruel, but I'd definitely refer to her as cold most of the time. She's not one for open compliments like that and while it makes me happy, it also places me on my guard.

As the door closes, I place my book down and frown as I try and work out why she'd suddenly be so complementary, what's changed?

But as I try and think, I can't deny I'm a little distracted as the images I saw flash through my mind, my pyjama pants tightening before I pause, looking at the door.

A quick locking charm ensures some privacy as I undo my trousers, grasping my rock-hard shaft and starting to stroke it.

I don't really think I can be blamed, all things considered. Yennefer wears so little she's practically an exhibitionist, Morrigan follows in her footsteps and until last year Keira still insisted on us bathing together despite the fact that she's almost two years older than me and hit puberty early. She still occasionally decides to sleep in my bed, as apparently I make a good pillow.

I'm surrounded by beautiful women, and none of them have any modesty or shame, while going through puberty? Is it any wonder things end like this?

Occlumency helps with recalling memories, and while it's not the most noble use of the mind arts, I use it to recall the memory I saw in my mothers head, replaying the scene of her pleasuring herself on her bed.

It's not exactly an honourable way to spend the night, but I feel exactly zero shame in using the memories she forced me to see.

My weak magic proves itself a curse as my door opens, my weak locking spell breaking immediately as Yennefer walks back in, going to speak before she notices my state.

Her mouth closes as an elegant eyebrow arches, and as our eyes make contact, I feel her swiftly slip into my head again, the memory I had pulled forwards on full display.

"I had one last thing to discuss, but it seems you're busy, Grayson. I'll leave you to it," Yennefer says with a twitch of her lips.

As she leaves again, I thank Merlin that she'll be gone tomorrow.

— Next Day —

Waking early, I find that they're already gone, set off for the World Cup. I'm the earliest riser in the house, so it must have killed Keira and Damian to get up so early.

Morrigan is probably still in bed, which gives me free reign of the library after breakfast. Morrigan prefers to train in the rooms we have for spell practice rather than the library anyway, but it's nice to have the place to myself as I track down the package.

Unwrapping it, I pause as I find a single black key and a small note.

Grayson

If you're reading this, your Occlumency skills have reached a level good enough that I feel comfortable giving you this. This is one of the keys to the restricted section of the Raum family library, to which you now have access. I doubt I need to tell you how dangerous some of those tomes can be, and the caution that is required to peruse them.

My eyes widen at the realisation of what I hold, even Morrigan doesn't have access to the restricted section.

I will not patronise you by warning you away from the darker tomes and grimoires. Knowledge is power, and you are a Raum and a Black, power is in your very blood, and I believe that you are wise enough to not lose yourself in these tomes.

What you choose to study, and what you do with the information you find within, is for you to decide.

Your Mother, Yennefer Atria Raum née Black

If her words last night made me suspicious, this is setting off screeching alarms. Morrigan is a brilliant witch, powerful and smart, and she has been complaining about not being allowed into the restricted section for years.

This key isn't just to open the door, just possessing it makes me immune to the wards on every book in this library. No tome or grimoire is off limits anymore.

She didn't ease me into the library like she did Morrigan, she just gave me the keys to the city and removed every restriction. Morrigan didn't get access to most of the books until she finished her O.W.L's after fifth year.

I just finished my third, with worse grades than Morrigan ended with. It can't be my Occlumency skills alone that made her do this.

Sure, having a well defended and disciplined mind helps a lot with the corruption of darker magic, but it has to be more than that.

Unable to resist, I move to the large metal gate that blocks off a passageway to an underground part of the library, opening it with a loud click as the gate opens slowly.

Heading down into the restricted section for the first time, I compare it to my first visit to Hogwarts restricted section (when I got that clown Lockheart to give me a pass), and find it doesn't compare.

Hogwarts has plenty of more dangerous books, but even the restricted section just feels like a library, while this?

It almost feels wrong, standing in the opening as I look around the fairly large room, rows of bookshelves with several stands, each with a single book sitting atop it, bound to the stand by a thick iron chain.

Approaching the bookshelves, I take one of the books with growing apprehension.

A treatise on the preparation and use of human bodies in alchemy and rituals

Ah, lovely.

Opening the tome, it's exactly what it says on the cover as I find a careful diagram on how to butcher a human body without damaging any of the important ingredients.

There's an entire chapter on the different uses for the genitals of both men and women, and how the donor being a muggle or magical changes the effect. It happily goes into the difference between virgins and non-virgin women for the use of their wombs, with a section explaining that some rituals require the donor to be recently defiled and suggests that the ritual-performer take care of that themselves before putting the donor down and harvesting the parts.

Putting the tome back, I can't help but wonder why I've been given access to this place. The next book is on the creation of undead, a strictly outlawed practice that'd get me sent to Azkaban just for owning a book that goes into such detail.

The books are interesting of course, but when my magic struggles to cast basic school charms, what hope do I have to cast any of the curses in the tomes here?

I'm tempted to try the curse I find that causes the victim's fingers to rot and fall off, but this is powerful magic and I know I'm not ready for it.

The most powerful spell I know is Confringo, the blasting curse, and that exhausts me after a single cast. What's the point in knowing these powerful curses when I certainly can't cast them?

My musings are cut off as I spot a book unlike the others, smaller and thinner than the thick tomes, stuffed between two much larger grimoires.

Picking it up and sitting down, I look it over, seeing no title. It seems to be a diary, or maybe a journal rather than a tome.

It's old, the first entry going back to the early 1800s, and immediately the first passage gets my attention.

For years I've dealt with this damnable curse, a Squib in all but name, the black sheep of my family. Were it not for the few simple spells I can cast and the fact that I have no siblings, I'd have been disowned long ago.

Me, a Raum, tossed out of my family and treated like some muggle, even my wife treats me with disdain, making it clear she was only willing to marry me for my family name and power. I suspect she's unfaithful, she wants a Raum child but doesn't want to risk her child inheriting my curse. I've seen my father leaving her chamber late at night, clothes askew.

Is it any wonder then that I am desperate to escape this accursed fate?

I met a man at the tavern, I've never seen him before but he called me by name, though only introduced himself as 'a merchant of mirrors'.

He claims he can grant wishes, like the Djinn of the children's tales, and in my despair I spilled my story to him. He was a patient listener though I suspect he already knew every word I'd say, and once I finished he claimed to know what was causing my curse, and how to lift it.

I thought him a charlatan of course, hoping to use my desperation to steal my family's wealth, but he insisted he wanted no such thing.

He placed his hand upon my chest and my body burnt, it was agonising, but when the pain stopped, I felt strong. He asked for nothing in payment and told me that, when the time was right, I'd find him again.

Since that day, my spells have been far more effective. I'm still very much below average but it was a small step that makes all the difference. On my chest, a mark has been burnt into my skin just above my heart, the mark of Master Mirror.

I know not who he was, but he spoke truthfully. He does know how to cure my curse, now I only need to find him again and find out what he wants for such a service.

I'm not the first Raum to suffer from this, and it sounds like my ancestor found a cure. After years of examinations by the experts from across the world to no avail, I gave up hope for such a thing.

I call it a curse but I thought it was just an unfortunate aspect of my birth, no more changeable than my birthday.

That hope rekindles in my chest, even as my eyes narrow. What kind of 'merchant of mirrors' can cure such a curse?

The writer has doodled a crude copy of the mark of master mirror, but whether its the quality or the design I can't decipher anything about it.

I think I've found what mother expected me to find, why I've been allowed down here, but why would a simple diary be in the same room as the darkest arts?

Going back to reading, I frown to myself in thought. The next entry is months later, he's not a frequent writer.

It's a blessing that my family is used to ignoring me, they never even noticed my increase in power nor did they care that I spend all my time searching for Master Mirror.

Through countless hours of studying, I've learnt that the Master of Mirrors is an old tale, ancient, even, with mentions of him going back to the time of the founders. I know not what I met that night, but it wasn't a human. It doesn't matter, it doesn't change my goal.

I was right about my wife's infidelity, with my new boost I was finally able to cast a simple disillusionment charm and lie in wait. My wife has been drugging me with a potion to prevent my seed from taking hold inside her, while she frequently lays with my own father, so her child will have Raum blood.

I confronted them of course, even my damaged pride only goes so far, and many venomous words were exchanged but it was for naught. They were unrepentant, and it seems my mother was aware of this scheme and all that changed is that now they do not bother sneaking around.

My wife has refused to lay with me since that night, openly professing to prefer the touch of my own father, and the old bastard himself seems to take joy in rubbing salt in his embarrassment's wounds. He openly demanded I leave my bedroom so he could make love to my wife, and when I refused simply paralysed me and took her with me stuck, forced to watch.

We even duelled over this disgrace, though I lost quite thoroughly. Aged he may be, but his power is substantial.

My mother has tried to convince me to simply bite my tongue and wait for father to successfully impregnate my wife, after which the affair will end, but I cannot. I will not sit here silently and be cuckolded.

I cannot take much more of this disgrace, but I lack the power to stop it. Oh Master Mirror, when will you appear before me again? How much more of this must I take?

Given the similarities between us, it goes without saying that I'm fairly uncomfortable reading about his… predicament.

My father is dead.

He successfully impregnated my wife, and while announcing it he decided he and my wife were going to go for multiple children, so they didn't end up with a single failure of an heir again.

He mocked me during his 'family announcement', made it clear that I'd never be Lord Raum, that his child would take my place once it was grown.

I snapped, I cannot beat him in a duel but evidently he didn't plan on me simply beating him to death with a fire poker, I grabbed it and just started swinging, breaking his hand and forcing him to drop his wand while my mother and wife stood there, frozen in shock.

It felt good, after being weak for so long, it felt good to have my own father look up at me with genuine fear. He was so powerful, always so disappointed in his failure of a son, and there he was, sitting on the ground looking up at me in fear.

Then I smashed his skull in, and had the house elves butcher him and feed his carcass to the dogs.

My wife attempted to threaten me, but she was never a good duelist, and the shock on her face as I, the squib, disarmed her will fill me with joy for many a month.

Mother could have struck me down, she had the power and her wand in hand, but she just stood there, frozen in horror as I snatched her wand away. I've locked them both up in their rooms, with their wands confiscated while I'd decide what I'm going to do.

I need a drink.

An important lesson, even a weak man is dangerous when desperate and pushed to the limit. Don't we have an antique fire poker in the fireplace in the family meeting room?

You don't think it's the same…

Shaking my head, I keep reading.

Master Mirror appeared once more, I went to a tavern where nobody would know my face, took a seat at an empty table and as I took my first sip, he was there, sitting next to me as if we'd come in together.

He called me Lord Raum, congratulated me on ending my torment and starting the right path. I ignored it and begged him to lift my curse, to give me the strength I should have had my entire life.

He refused, but didn't leave me in despair. Instead of curing me, he told me a tale, a tale of my family and my origins.

Raum, the muggles know that name as one of the seventy-two demon lords, but I've always assumed those tales were just misunderstandings made over the centuries.

Master Mirror claims otherwise, that the founder of my house was in fact a half-demon, much like the muggle stories of Merlin himself, that demonic blood flows through my veins.

I doubted his tales, still believing demons to be fairy tales made up by muggles, but he enlightened me to the truth. Demons are real, though the muggle concept of 'hell' is simply another plane of existence.

I am not cursed, I am blessed. My demonic blood is more potent than that of my family, but mortals weren't meant to possess such blood. There is a war within me, my two heritages battle for control and leave me weak as a result.

There is a barrier between hell and earth, and it is because of this barrier that I was born so weak. It stifles me, preventing my demonic power from developing.

He has laid out two paths for me, two ways to cure myself of this weakness.

He can suppress my demonic blood entirely, allowing my natural wizarding magic to flourish, or he can tell me how to truly awaken my blood and tame it, to end this war within my body and bring both forces to bear, to become what I should have always been.

However, the freebies have ended, and to walk either path will require a sacrifice, as if I'd hesitate when I can still feel the old bastard's blood on my hands.

Master Mirror has his price, I merely needed to sign on the dotted line and he took care of the rest, that child growing in my wife's stomach, the proof of my cuckolding, is dead. What Master Mirror wants with the soul of a child is not my concern.

He has granted me a tome, apparently written by the original Raum, who was said to be a great seer, and while it rankles me to find him trading what should have been my heritage back to me, I cannot be angry when my future is finally looking bright.

I've hidden the tome away, with the help of something I purchased from Master Mirror, I won't let anyone take this from me.

A pact? Demons? This delves deeper into the realm of fantasy, but I can't help but believe the words written in this simple diary. Something deep within me tells me it's the truth, but demons?

The next entry is years later, apparently he was busy.

I forgot about this old diary, forgot the time when I needed to vent to the unfeeling pages. Those days are gone, but for the sake of nostalgia I will write once more. My own developing powers tell me it will be useful one day.

I am Lord Raum, leader of the Order of the Black Rose, an over-the-top name made over a tankard of ale at the tavern.

My order was formed of like minded people, willing to make sacrifices for the sake of power. The rituals written by my ancestor, the Demon Lord Raum have taken me far, and though the cost has been high, thankfully the first thing I learnt was to make other people pay the price for me.

I've spent the past few years researching demons, and the other planes that I was always told were nothing but myth.

The Feywilds, The Celestial realm which the muggles call 'Heaven', the Nine Hells and the Abyss and many more.

I quickly came to a startling discovery: someone has put in an immense amount of effort to convince magic users that demons and angels are nothing but a myth.

I've discovered proof that countless figures of both fame and infamy through magical history gained their power through rituals and pacts not unlike the ones I perform, and yet any evidence of that seems to have been expunged from official records.

I have even encountered agents of this group recently, as one of my earlier rituals required a virgin maiden, and I had a muggle girl kidnapped, but it seems the frequent disappearances had started to draw undue attention. I wasn't careful enough, and the villagers on my land whispered of the dark rituals I perform, rightly suspecting that I'm behind the disappearances.

A group of muggles travelled to my lands, from the south of England, claiming to serve 'God' and investigating the disappearances. I intended to simply rewrite their minds and make them go back to their masters with the belief that they investigated and found the disappearances were caused by wild beasts, however these muggles proved bizarrely resistant to magic.

Furthermore, they were able to sense my demonic nature with ease, attacking me on sight and nearly slaying me. Had my cult not been nearby, I may have fallen entirely.

Capturing several of them, my interrogations proved ineffective for the most part, though one of them did break eventually, revealing that they were inquisitors serving a secret arm of the church.

He claimed that their order was only one of many, that more would come and cut me down in the name of God. That the 'Knights Templar' would avenge their deaths. Simple bravado, but his bold claims revealed more than he knew.

They're all dead now, with the exception of the priestess who came with them, she was given to my followers as a reward.

It was not muggles alone who wiped all records of demons, and it was not muggles who created the barrier that prevents demons from passing into this world.

In my investigations, I discovered that at the very least there is one group of magic users in England that work to erase any trace of demons, as a group of unknown wizards arrived at the village shortly afterwards, though they left when they couldn't pierce the wards at my home.

Ever since that day, forces in the shadows have been seeking to thwart me and my order, making us act with much more caution than we are accustomed to. I suspect some of my followers are bitter about this, blaming me for our recent misfortune.

I face threats both inside my own cult and external, with groups I do not even know the name of hunting me down. I will not fall to them, no matter what.

I did not come this far to fail.

A conspiracy to hide demons from the world? Could they still be active to this day? This diary has given me a kindling of hope, to go along with a mountain of questions and concerns.

There's one final entry, the rest of the pages left blank.

I was right to suspect betrayal, though I did not know how deep the thorns of treason had set in cult was infiltrated by one of our enemies, who sought to make them rise up against me.

I saw their betrayal coming, and the cult was… purified, and the traitors dealt with. Unfortunately, treason had set into the hearts of almost half my cult, and this setback hurt me greatly.

Not all was lost though, as some were captured, and through the ritual of subjugation I summoned servile spirits to possess them and force them into obedience.

They lack free will, which makes them far less useful, but it's allowed me to keep many of them around as servants, or entertainment in the cases of the women. The remaining members of the cult are loyal, and I've taken steps to ensure this doesn't happen again.

And yet, I possess a deep feeling of dread of late, my developing seer abilities warning me of a danger I simply cannot see.

I suspect I will die soon, despite all my precautions, but I also suspect this won't be the end. I have heirs, ones I left out of the Order for this very reason, and one day someone like me will find my diary, find Raum's tome, and pick up where I left off.

They'll succeed where I failed, or perhaps they'll just be the next in a long line of descendants who will fight this battle.

If you're reading this, and my words resonate with you, search the dungeons of the Raum manor, which I can only hope still stands, find his gift and show it that you share my blood. You'll know it when you see it.

I hope you find greater success than I did, though I can't say I regret any of the choices I made.

Lord Theodore Raum, Grandmaster of the Order of the Black Rose

The name rings a bell, making me pause as I put the diary back down and step back, moving upstairs as I find the Raum genealogy, flipping through it.

There he is, Theodore Raum, allegedly murdered in his sleep by his second wife who committed suicide right afterwards, he's said to have been a brilliant politician and businessman who had 'a troubled past'.

That's putting it lightly.

Heading to the dungeons, I shiver slightly at the unnatural coldness to them as I look around. They aren't actually that big compared to the rest of the house.

His words make sense as I pause, finding an old storage room, ancient furniture covered up by sheets as I disturb them for the first time in decades.

Pulling one of the sheets down, I pause as I look up at the massive elegant mirror. Standing easily seven feet tall, the rectangular shaped mirror is suspiciously shaped like a doorway to me, the black metal frame wrapped around it with elaborate patterns.

And the same mark Theodore drew in his book, the mark of Master Mirror, is on the very bottom left of the mirror, so small I almost didn't see the engraved signature at first.

I know what comes next, and with some hesitation I raise my wand and cast a weak cutting curse, for once thankful for my weakness as my finger is sliced, the light cut starting to bleed as I reach forwards and touch the mirror.

The surface ripples, and the reflection changes to show a corridor instead of the storage room I'm in, though it still shows me standing there, and after a moment of hesitation I step forward and into the mirror.

Appearing on the other side, the corridor in front of me, I take a breath as I raise my wand, casting Lumos as I start to explore.

The first room I find doesn't fill me with confidence, the obvious prison cell still having three skeletons shackled to the wall, likely having starved after Theodore's death.

The next room is empty, except for a large stone circle that I can already tell was used for rituals, ancient blood staining the stone and more bones piled up in the corner. Terrible things happened here, but as I reach the next room I pause.

It's a private study, that much is clear, small and almost cosy. But it's not the worn furniture that draws my attention, but the thick tome bound in black leather sitting on the desk.

I can feel it calling to me, demanding my attention, promising me power and success if I'd only pick it up.

I shouldn't, but perhaps me and my ancestor are too alike as I lift the grimoire, wincing as I feel a sharp stabbing sensation in the palm of my hand, the tome drawing blood as it bonds to me.

Opening it up, I freeze as I see the first page.

An incredibly accurate drawing of me sits in the top left, and the writing is no less unnerving.

Grayson Raum-Black

Race – Human (Demonic Heritage)

Strength: F-

Constitution: F+

Dexterity: E-

Intelligence: A

Wisdom: C+

Charisma: C-

Luck: B+

Magical Traits

Magical Power: F

Magical Reserves: F-

Magical Regeneration: E+

Magical Control: B+

Demonic Traits

Demonic Mana Power: Sealed

Demonic Mana Reserves: Sealed

Demonic Mana Regeneration: Sealed

Demonic Mana Control: Sealed

New user detected

Raum blood confirmed

Demonic Mana confirmed

New User, Grayson Raum-Black, accepted

The words form and then vanish, leaving only the list, my very nature judged and documented,

The next page tells me how little my mental defences did against my new book, making me freeze as I keep reading.

Grayson Raum's Magical Skills

Wizard

[Mind Magic Mastery: Expert]

You are incredibly talented in the art of mind magic, able to defend your mind from intrusions and outside influences or pilfer the minds of others for their memories and secrets.

Alchemical Mastery: Adept

You have the knowledge and talent to brew many potions and other alchemical creations, how to identify the uses of ingredients in alchemy and even the ability to design your own potions given time and research.

[Ancient Runes Mastery: Adept]

You have an impressive understanding of runecrafting, used in many ways including the creation of magical items, able to place permanent enchantments by carving the runes onto them.

Arithmancy Mastery – Adept Level

You have an impressive understanding of the art of arithmancy, otherwise known as spellcrafting, allowing you to create spells of your own design with enough time and research.

Charms Mastery – Apprentice Level

You have a good understanding of charms magic, and its many functions.

Defensive Magic Mastery – Apprentice Level

You have a decent understanding of defensive magic, including shield charms and common duelling spells.

Elemental Magic Mastery – Apprentice Level

You have a good grasp on how to cast elemental magic, bending the elements to your will.

[Herbological Mastery: Apprentice]

You have the knowledge of how to grow and cultivate many types of magical plants, and how to safely and efficiently harvest them once they are prepared.

Household Magic Mastery – Apprentice Level

You have a fair talent for casting the common household spells, used for day to day life by daily wizards and witches.

[Magical Creatures Mastery – Apprentice Level]

You have a decent knowledge of magical beasts and how to tame, train and care for them.

[Transfiguration Mastery – Apprentice Level]

You have a good understanding of transfiguration magic, how to transform one type of matter to another, including living beings to inanimate objects and vice versa.

Having even my knowledge judged unnerves me, and also disappoints me at the less than brilliant showing, not a single practical subject is above Apprentice (though I don't know how good Apprentice and Adept are supposed to be).

Demonic Essence left behind by the former host, Theodore Raum, would you like to see the potential uses for it?

Ah, my predecessor left me a gift, deliberately or otherwise?

Well, turning the page I nod to myself, half-baked plans already forming in the back of my mind.

I'm going to follow in Theodore's footsteps, though how far will I go? It's clear he went deep into these rituals, sacrificing his followers and captives for power. Could I bring myself to end a life to benefit myself?

If I start this path, will I have a choice? If I attract the attention of whatever society killed him, I'll need the power just to survive.

But what's the alternative? Pretend I never found this thing? Settle for being mediocre? Fall behind more and more as the spells require more power, until I eventually start failing altogether, destroying my reputation and leaving me with such a limited future?

No, I think not.

Yes, I'd like to see what I can do with the essence.

The tome opens up, flipping through the pages before it lands on a certain page, and I take a seat and start to read.

I will not be mediocre, I was born for far greater things.

— Bonus Scene — Yennefer Raum-Black

Watching the game, she was amused when the result ended very much the same as Gray had predicted, Damian's angry shouting making her roll her eyes.

Like she didn't know he'd placed many bets on this game, attempting to increase his limited allowance (which she'd done because he burnt through money in seconds). She also knew he'd bet more than he had, and wondered when he would confess his idiocy and beg her to get him out of trouble.

Gray wouldn't do something so…

Gray…

Her favourite child, though she'd deny having a favourite if any of them asked, and she was setting him up for a life of peril and danger, to enter a war that had been waged for aeons, for the sake of herself and the coven she belonged to.

The Lodge had pushed her to set Gray on this path before he was ready, she wasn't a fool, they wanted Gray to start this path when he was still young and pliable, when he was still weak and easily manipulated.

The Lodge needed a weapon, and Gray was the product of decades of planning. He'd find the diary of the long-dead Lord Theodore Raum and sooner or later he'd find the tome hidden away within their mansion.

He'd start the same path Theodore Raum once walked, the rituals, the sacrifices, all so the Lodge could have their tool so they could escape their own pacts. They needed a Raum, because the Demon Lord Raum was no fool and ensured that only his descendents would be able to walk the path he'd carved for them.

She'd been a loyal member of the Lodge for many years, but motherhood had changed things. They'd say she was going soft but she knew Triss was having her own doubts, seeing Gray more like the Godson she claimed he was and less of the tool they had crafted.

She loved Grayson, as she loved all her children (even Damian, despite his flaws), and her loyalty had gone beyond merely wavering.

She'd follow the plan they made so many years ago, as it was too late to back out entirely now, but she was making a few adjustments to it. The Lodge wouldn't like it, but she wasn't easily dissuaded. They'd adapt to her new plan, or they'd find their final hope disappearing into nothing.

Assuming she didn't like them herself.