Rick was nestled in his usual spot in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled on the cozy rug before the fireplace with a half used pot of ink and a quill clutched between ink stained fingers. The flames cast a warm amber glow over the parchment stretched across the low coffee table, illuminating an intricate mix of architectural outlines, charmingly absurd animal doodles, and swirling decorative borders. He wasn’t mapping to explore today no hidden passages or secrets being uncovered he was beautifying, personalizing the map in quiet reflection. The world outside the lines didn’t exist, not while he was this focused. So deep was his concentration, he neither heard the hurried footsteps nor sensed the mischievous glances exchanged behind him until Lily and Marlene pounced from either side, knocking him sideways in a flurry of laughter and mock protest.
“Happy New Year!” the redhead greeted with enthusiasm and got greeted back.
“Still working on your map, I see.” commented Marlene as she looked down at what he was doing.
“Yup. With most students home it was the perfect opportunity to explore some places which are usually crowded or inaccessible.”
“Like?”
“The other houses’ common room.” Rick replied with a smug grin.
“Shut up! No way!”
“Yes way. Look.”
He gently unfurled the massive, slightly curled parchment in front of him, its surface a chaotic tapestry of ink, detail, and magic. With the tip of an ink stained finger, he gestured toward a section where levels were intricately layered atop one another like a vertical jigsaw puzzle floors stacked high and narrow like a wizard’s attempt at urban planning gone rogue. Faint shimmering enchantments flared as his finger passed over certain sections, revealing annotations written in his precise hand and magical glyphs that danced at the edges like curious fireflies.
“That’s the Ravenclaw’s.” he pointed with his finger.
“Sweet Merlin, it’s true!”
“Of course it’s true.” he replied with a deadpan face.
“Did you visit all of them?” asked Lily and Rick knew she was particularly interested in Slytherin’s.
“Yes. Not every part because as a guy I can’t get access to the girls section properly but I did and boy it’s gigantic and dreary. All black, dark grey and a bit of dark green. How the Slytherins can live there is beyond me, that place looked like a Victorian castle in a horror story.” he replied as he pointed at the common room he was talking about to her.
“How did you get there in the first place?” wondered Marlene
“Well… Ravenclaw was both the easiest and the hardest.”
“Still no good with riddles?” Lily smirked.
“Nope, but I got it! It just took me half an hour. For Slytherin I just had to follow a student and listen to them saying the password. Finally for Hufflepuff… Well… I spent three hours waiting for Amelia to get inside. I hid in a dark corner of the cellar. She was pissed when I left her a huge note in the middle of the room during the night.”
He chuckled, the memory vividly playing out in his mind Amelia furiously chasing him through corridors, staircases, and even the library, all while trying to hex him into next week. It had been a full blown, castle wide game of cat and mouse, and he had barely evaded her multiple times thanks to sheer luck and his knack for knowing every shortcut.
In hindsight, leaving a magically illuminated note in the Hufflepuff common room with "Amelia, you suck at Quidditch" written in sparkling gold ink might not have been the wisest or kindest idea. But Merlin, her expression when she found it had been worth the danger equal parts livid and betrayed, like he’d just kicked a puppy from what Barmy had said. He did, however, admit to himself now that it was maybe a touch too far. Just a touch.
“Hey Wald!”
Turning at the unexpected voice, the trio spotted a tall sixth year girl descending the staircase with a brisk, confident stride. Her Gryffindor tie hung a little loose and her prefect badge glinted under the warm torchlight, catching the attention of a few other years nearby. She raised her voice again, her dark curls bouncing as she called out clearly across the common room, locking eyes with Rick.
“Yes?”
“Cradburry said that the 260 points increase we got is thanks to you? The hell did you do?”
““What?!””
“Render service to the school,” Rick said coolly, his tone deliberate and almost infuriatingly composed.
His fingers resumed their idle tapping on the table as if the words he'd just uttered were of no particular significance, all while ignoring the shocked gasps and half yelled demands from his friends flanking him. It was the verbal equivalent of tossing a firework into the common room and then walking away without a backward glance.
“Yeah but what?”
“I’m not allowed to say. Headmaster Dumbledore himself forbade it.”
“Shit must have been something big! Good job though, we’re back in the lead now!”
The girl dropped the subject with a shrug and vanished up the spiral staircase toward the girls' dormitory, leaving behind a brief echo of curiosity in the air. Meanwhile, both Marlene and Lily turned toward Rick in perfect synchrony, brows arched and eyes narrowed with the surgical precision of two witches who smelled secrets. Their expressions were an unsettling blend of curiosity, suspicion, and that terrifying kind of girl power telepathy that promised absolutely no mercy.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Why?”
“Come on! It’s 260 points! Unless you saved a teacher or some You did?!” Marlene exclaimed when she saw his contrite face.
“Look. The Headmaster told us to keep it a secret for our own protection, if I tell you, you’d be in danger too.”
“Us? Lily noticed. “Who’s us? Amelia.” she immediately thought.
“I shouldn’t have said that. Definitely should not have said that.”
“Well too late now! If you don’t tell us, Amelia will!” Marlene said and Rick snorted which made her realize whom she was talking about.
“It’s better that way.”
“Nope. Nuh huh. No way. You’re telling us.” the sun kissed blonde insisted.
“Yeah!”
“We’ll make you talk!”
“Marlene, are you really going to use your wand on me?” he asked with a deadpan voice, the blond witch having pulled out her wand.
“...”
“No more hugs!” exclaimed Lily.
That hit Rick like a stray Bludger to the chest. His breath caught, eyes widening in startled disbelief at what Lily had just said. For a heartbeat, he froze, caught between indignation and the urge to run but then, with a quiet breath and the smallest tightening of his jaw, he planted himself. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t fold. Standing his ground with the stubborn pride of someone who’d weathered worse than empty threats, he met her gaze head on.
“I won’t fall for blackmail and I’m pretty sure you’re bluffing.”
He picked up his quill with the calm defiance of someone who’d long since accepted that chaos came hand in hand with friendship, and resumed sketching a series of decorative filigree along the edge of the map. The girls volleyed threats at him hexes, pillow ambushes but he didn’t so much as flinch.
Eventually, their verbal assault fizzled out into sulking silence. Still, Lily had made a keen observation: whatever he’d done had probably been dangerous, and the subtle twitch of his left shoulder at her mention of it betrayed more than he meant to. Her eyes narrowed as she filed that away, quietly promising herself to talk to Amelia.
Rick, catching the look, gave a casual shrug, the kind that said, 'You can try, but it won’t work.' He trusted Amelia’s sense of loyalty and righteousness more than any unbreakable vow if anyone could keep a secret buried, it was her.
Taking a break from his meticulous detailing, Rick leaned back slightly, quill paused in the air as Lily and Marlene’s animated voices finally pulled him out of his focused haze. He decided to listen in, allowing himself a rare moment of stillness. As always, Marlene’s holiday had been loud, boisterous, and full of family chaos the good kind.
The new twist this year had been the Ministry’s New Year’s ball, an event that sounded more like a punishment than a privilege. Forced to dress up, act prim, and represent her house with “dignity,” she’d loathed every minute. Thankfully, Frank Longbottom had been her knight in slightly awkward armor, offering both comic relief and introductions to other young heirs and heiresses of Light aligned houses.
But then her tone had shifted, the way it always did when the conversation brushed too close to something bitter. That’s when she mentioned running into Edgar and Robert Bones Amelia’s older brothers. They’d shared a piece of news that hit like an icy gust from the Forbidden Forest: Amelia had stayed behind at Hogwarts not because she loved the quiet, but in protest.
Her father had arranged a betrothal contract with the heir of a minor house aligned to the so called “grey” faction. The match was designed to forge a new alliance. The heir in question, disturbingly, was several years older than Edgar.
Lily’s face twisted in sharp disbelief, her green eyes flashing with a fury usually reserved for injustice in the classroom. Rick, meanwhile, looked as if someone had just been hexed in front of him his brows knitted, jaw clenched, and a storm of anger brewed behind his otherwise guarded expression. Rage simmered quietly between them, the kind that came not from surprise, but from recognition from knowing this kind of thing still happened, and being unable to do a damn thing about it. All they could do was sit there, boiling, furious, and silently promising themselves that if Amelia ever needed an out, they'd raze the old traditions to ash to give her one.
“How can he do that?!”
“That’s the way it is with the noble and ancient houses, Lily. Marriage is just a way to make alliances. It’s not meant for love.” Marlene replied with a shrug.
“The whole thing being medieval as hell aside… Marlene, are you…”
“Thank Merlin, no! Betrothal contracts are not really the norm anymore. Old traditionalist families still use them but most don’t. Father doesn’t need to make alliances and he was quite clear I would be free to marry whoever I want just like he and Mother did. Besides, I’m the heiress so it’s a bit more complicated in my case. I will keep my name and have the power of my house one day so I’m the one people will try to be acquainted with and propose a betrothal contract.”
“In other words you’re the one in position of strength if there are negotiations.” Rick simplified.
“Yes.”
“Poor Amelia.” Lily said with sadness.
“In a way, yes but maybe not? Depending on what’s in the contract she may have exit clauses. The standard is both agreeing to break it off. Less standard are gold exchanges if one party wants out or in the case of conservative families, if the girl is not a virgin anymore.”
“What?!” the redhead exclaimed at the last part.
“I’m impressed with the dichotomy of the place of witches in the Magical world. On one hand they’re equal to wizards with the possibility to work the same jobs and hold the same titles on the other hand… This?”
“It’s all about manners, traditions, face and line theft.” Marlene explained as best as she could.
““Line theft?””
“There is magic in blood. While the blood purists in Slytherin are wrong to discriminate based on blood status, they are not wrong in their belief that the magic in the blood is important.”
“I don’t know what I dislike more. What you said or that you were the one to say it.” Rick was frowning deeply at that point.
“What does it mean ‘the magic in blood is important’? We all have magic.”
The blonde witch explained further to Lily. “Yes but some families have… special magic.”
“Like Salazar Slytherin and his descendants being parselmouth?” wondered the dirty blonde.
“Yes. Another famous example would be the Black. Their magic is… attuned to curses making them better than average at it. They also have metamorphmagi in their family tree. It’s because of their blood.”
“What’s a metamorphmagus?” inquired Lily.
“It’s someone who has the magical ability to change their physical appearance at will at any time. Like polyjuice on command except they just need to think it to change instead of drinking a potion and they can maintain their change as long as they want.”
“That’s such a cheat.”
“Sirius is not a metamorphmagus.” Lily remarked. “Does that mean he’s not a Black?”
“Oh he is a Black, his parents are first cousins. It’s not all members of a family, Lily.”
Marlene's explanation made both Rick and Lily physically recoil, their expressions contorting in synchronized revulsion. Sure, they'd known the dark families were notorious for keeping bloodlines 'pure,' but they always assumed it was through distant connections second cousins, maybe third at worst. First cousins? That was a level of close that felt less like tradition and more like horror. Lily gagged theatrically, muttering something about needing a memory charm, while Rick stared into the fire like it might burn the image out of his brain.
“As for not being a metamorphmagus, it’s because the ability is very very rare nowadays. Three centuries ago House Black may have had three or four but now they have none. If you ever meet one in Magical Britain, chances are they have a bit of Black blood in them.”
“If there are no more metamorphmagus in the house of Black, doesn’t that mean that the inbreeding is the cause of that?” Lily wondered aloud.
“It could be.” Marlene answered. “Some believe that’s the case, others believe they were cursed and simply lost the ability. Dark families believe the latter because in their mind, marrying each other is strengthening the blood.”
“Can we ask what’s your family magic or is it rude?” questioned Rick.
“It is extremely rude to ask directly so you know… don’t do it. Some would be very offended and believe me, you don’t want an old coot from an old family on your ass. I don’t care though. My family’s magic is slightly attuned to battle magic or rather we’re all a bit feisty for a fight and naturally above average at it. It’s not an actual ability like being a metamorphmagus but more something like natural talent.”
“That’s why you’re so interested in duelling?” he stated more than asked.
“Yep. Anyway, now you know why line theft is a big thing, it’s all about protecting your family magic. And money. There have been cases where someone tried to make an heir from old families to be able to steal their money that way. Like a wizard seducing an heiress or a witch seducing an heir. It’s really a huge deal. A crime that could send you to Azkaban for life or be killed.”
The conversation shifted toward Lily’s holiday adventures, a welcome reprieve from the thick mire of old family politics. But while the girls chatted, Rick’s thoughts drifted away, caught in a tangled web of magical heredity. If magic truly ran through the blood, then how did muggle borns even exist? Conversely, what mysterious twist of fate or biology could produce a squib from magical parents? His mind raced with possibilities like a runaway broomstick. How could two wizards give birth to a child without magic? Or two Muggles produce someone like Lily a witch with power pulsing through her every spell, while her older sister Petunia was entirely mundane?
He considered adoption, or even the possibility of an affair, but the frequency of muggle born witches and wizards dismissed those explanations. It wasn’t just Lily. It wasn’t rare. That meant the answers had to lie deeper, somewhere buried in genetics, magical theory, or something more arcane and elusive. The more he dwelled on it, the more his mind buzzed with unanswered questions, piling higher and higher like stacked textbooks in the restricted section.
And for once, not even the warmth of the common room or the cheerful banter around him could distract him from the silent riddle pulsing in his thoughts: where does magic truly come from?
“What are you thinking about?” asked Marlene while poking his cheek with a finger.
“How muggle borns came to be if magic is in the blood.”
“Nobody knows. Some believe that magic is sentient and blessed a child, some that muggle simply stole from a wizard or a witch their magic.”
“That sounds utterly stupid.” Lily stated.
“Yeah.”
“I agree. The most… popular answer is that muggle born are the descendants of squibs and that one day magic just came back into their family line.”
“That makes more sense. Sometimes family traits skip a generation or more.” Rick said to himself aloud. “Is there a way to know… Well…One’s ancestry? Magically I mean. Since squibs, from what I understood, are disowned and sent to the muggle world… No that doesn’t work, if it was possible, everyone would know if muggleborns are squib descendants or not.”
“There is a way, actually.”
Both Lily and Rick leaned in unconsciously, curiosity written all over their faces as they turned their full attention to Marlene. There was a subtle shift in the air a hush that came when something important was about to be said. Lily, her fingers twitching slightly in anticipation, clearly longed for answers not just for Rick's curiosity, but her own too. The redhead’s eyes were wide, searching Marlene’s face with a quiet, desperate hope like maybe, just maybe, some ancient truth was finally within reach.
“Gringotts offer a service that does exactly that. I don’t know the details but they have means to know someone’s ancestry, providing that at least one of the ancestors was a client of the bank.”
“And no one tries to verify the truth because?...”
“Because it’s really expensive, Lily. We’re talking about hundreds of galleons if not thousands. The farther up you search the higher the cost.”
“Meaning no one’s using that service. No muggle borns at least, that is if they even know about it to begin with.”
Rick let out a quiet sigh, one that the girls misinterpreted as a pang of longing for answers about his own past who he was, who his parents might have been. In truth, it wasn’t that. Not entirely. His curiosity ran deeper, less personal and more academic: the origin of muggle borns, the nature of magic, the mechanics of inheritance.
But no matter how strong his curiosity, it wasn’t strong enough to justify spending hundreds maybe thousands of galleons he didn’t have. And even if the vaults of Gringotts were open to him, he’d likely spend that fortune on something more grounded, more immediate. Food. Books. Maybe better robes without ink stains. He was too practical to chase ghosts with gold.
“Beside exploring the castle,” Marlene began changing the subject of their talk for something a bit less heavy.
“And flying,”
“And studying,”
"And saving teachers,”
““What did you do?””
“Nothing because that’s about it. At New Years eve I danced again with Amelia and Professor McGonagall. She’s really really good at that. I danced with Professor Dumbledore too, so did Amelia and… well. Everyone in truth.”
““Dumbledore?””
“Yes, he was feeling particularly happy this year.”
“You danced with another man.” stated Marlene, a bit surprised by the revelation.
“Yep. I didn’t ask him or anything. There were just more men than women so sometimes when we changed partners during a dance same sex pairing happened. Nothing to be surprised about, really. What’s surprising is that the Headmaster is very light footed for someone his age.”
“And that’s it?” inquired the blonde witch. “That’s all you did? No offense but that sounds boring, or perhaps that’s the way you said it.”
“Oh, I wasn't bored one bit.”
Plenty of things had happened during the holidays beyond the discovery of Salazar Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets or Scriptorium. Mostly with Amelia. Like a few snowball fights to which he often ended up all white from head to toe. His first try at the Accio charm, him fleeing Amelia’s wrath and her filling his mouth up to the brim with Licorice wands. All embarrassing stories which he hopes the older girl will never talk about. The thoughts of those events prompted to have a happy smile on his face. Something that couldn’t and wasn’t missed by the girls.
“Liar!” Marlene pointed out.
“Something definitely happened!” Lily said, pointing an accusing finger at Rick.
“... No?”
“I’m definitely bugging Amelia until she speaks!”
Now that genuinely unsettled Rick. Not because Amelia would ever betray Dumbledore’s trust, he knew she’d sooner hex herself than speak a word of what the headmaster had sealed in confidence. But his other secrets? The cringeworthy, ridiculous, face burning moments of the holiday? Those were fair game in Amelia’s book. She wouldn’t just mention them. No, she’d perform a dramatic reenactment, complete with sound effects, for Lily and Marlene’s amusement. And she’d do it with the solemn pride of a bard preserving oral history. If she even sniffed an opportunity to embarrass him in front of friends, she’d take it and she’d enjoy it.
“Please, don’t do that?”
““No!””
Defeated, he gave up on keeping the dignity he had intact. There was no point in trying to stop his friends from finding out about what he got up to during the winter break and he knew that trying to stop them would be as useful as a band aid on a wooden leg. In the years to come, he was sure that it wouldn’t be a one time thing.