I was planning to release one chapter per week, but it turns out I'm writing a bit too fast. So, expect the next chapter on Thursday—as long as I can keep the you-know-what buffer intact.
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POV: Vespera Rosier
Even as a young child, Vespera understood that she was a privileged girl—it wasn't difficult to notice. Their castle library was immense, filled with stories that reached all the way to the high, vaulted ceiling. Would you believe that Vespera once actually thought every child in the world lived in a castle? Her surprise was all the greater when she discovered the reality from the books her beloved brother, Evan, would secretly slip to her. The ones from her brother were always a thousand times better and more interesting than those her father thrust under her nose.
At first, she read her father's selections only out of necessity, not wanting to disappoint him. But the more she leafed through her brother's books, the more clearly she saw the subconscious manipulation. Why else would her father constantly give her those silly romance novels, where some gallant pure-blood wizard was always rescuing some incompetent witch?
Vespera didn't care for romance; she wanted proper battles! She longed to read about how Merlin fought Morgana, or how the mighty mage Vlad Dracul defended Romania against the Ottoman raids.
In their castle, it was a daily occurrence for her father to catch her with some fantasy combat book featuring a powerful and self-sufficient heroine. That was exactly who she wanted to be. She could see he didn't like it, and more than once, a row would explode between him and Evan, their voices echoing through the most distant corridors. The only one who could stop them was their mother, with Carina's help. Yet, her father never reproached Vespera for anything. She knew she was "Daddy's girl," and she used it to her full advantage.
When he called her into his study, she assumed another stupid romance would land on the desk, intended to hammer into her head how perfect marriage was... She wasn't wrong; something was waiting for her there. But it wasn't some vapid romance; it was mind magic. Finally.
In that moment, more than ever, she wanted to be a proud member of the House of Rosier—the kind who could see right through people, reading their thoughts and emotions. To her, it was the finest magical affinity their family could possess. Who cared about fire or Parseltongue? Mind-reading! That was true power.
While Vespera was lost in her own reflections, her father watched her with quiet pride. She had been a warrior since she was in swaddling clothes, but he knew better—the magical world was cruel, and doubly so to women. The history of their house and the very walls of this castle told their own dark stories of it. Was it so wrong that he wanted her to marry? To be safe and protected? He didn't know how to show it—truthfully, he barely knew how to feel it—but he loved his family above all else.
Her thoughts, however, were not hidden from him. Even though she tried to passively dampen them, she stood no chance against his Legilimency—he read her like an open book and knew exactly what was going on in that little head of hers. She was still a child without experience, having no inkling of what real life was about. With a heavy sigh, he finally committed to the most difficult decision the other Houses had agreed upon.
"You will not be going to Hogwarts next year," he spoke firmly and coldly.
He saw Vespera flinch, but he continued immediately, before he could lose the strength to change his mind. "As the second child, you will go to Durmstrang. You will expand our influence among the magical elite of Europe. You have exactly one year to master our family's talents." With a sharp tilt of his head, he indicated the book lying between them.
Vespera felt stinging tears welling in her eyes. It was a shock she couldn't process immediately. After a long moment of silence, she spoke, her voice nothing more than a quiet, trembling whisper: "Is it because I don't want to read those stupid novels? Are you hoping I'll fall in love there in some foolish way?"
She paused for a second. She saw that tiny twitch on her father's face—she knew he felt sorry for her tears, but the pain within her was stronger than pity. She continued with rising anger: "I won't marry anyone! Did Mother come up with this?" she finished almost with a shout that bounced off the stone walls of the study.
Her father shook his head in disagreement. With a heavy sigh, he decided to explain the situation to her plainly. She was a child, yes, but she was bright enough. "Several pure-blood English families have decided to send their second children to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. The reality is, Vespera, that after the war with Grindelwald, England has remained quite cut off from international relations. Well, except for a few chosen people. We need to restore those ties, whether they be alliances or trade."
"But I'm no diplomat!" Vespera cried out indignantly.
"That, you are not," her father smirked weakly at her. "I know that no boy from the English families has interested you so far. I firmly believe that among the Europeans, someone will be found." He immediately raised his hand to stop her, seeing her drawing breath for another protest.
He continued sternly: "I know, I know... no weddings. Firstly, you are still young for that. Secondly, I am sending you to a school that focuses heavily on combat magic. And thirdly..." he paused so his words would truly ring in her ears, "it was founded by a woman."
He felt both her fear and her ambition, but he also saw those uninvited tears in her eyes. Her thoughts lay before him like an open palm. In that surge of emotion, Vespera had completely forgotten the foundations of their House, and so he decided to remind her of them immediately.
"Close your mind, Vespera," he said sternly. "You are forgetting the basics. And here I was, just thinking you might soon be ready for the more advanced techniques in this book."
He knew this provocation would work. He knew his daughter far too well, and he wasn't at all surprised when, at his words, she defiantly thrust out her chin and squared her chest. The moment she braced herself, he stopped feeling her emotions. The chaos in her head was replaced by silence. Cold and firm.
"You have a year to improve your Occlumency," her father reminded her just before she left. "Your current defenses are weak."
Then he just watched his daughter's back in silence. Vespera left the study with her head held high and the book in her hand.
***
A year passed, during which Vespera worked stubbornly on her Occlumency. Evan helped her with Legilimency, though he constantly warned her to be careful about whom she used it on at Durmstrang. Some families might take it as a massive insult and declare war on them.
During that year, she managed to read everything she could find about Durmstrang. Its exact location was a secret; all that was known was that it lay somewhere in Scandinavia. It was founded by a woman, specifically Nerida Vulchanova of Bulgaria, and even one of the most powerful Dark Lords of all time—Grindelwald—had studied there. Vespera liked that dark history. She also liked the emphasis on combat and the Dark Arts. She wanted to be powerful and respected, just like Morgana.
That didn't stop her from feeling afraid, though. It was a foreign place full of strangers with origins similar to her own. She was certain she wouldn't be privileged there in any way. Durmstrang was a place for pure-blood and magically powerful children from all over Europe and beyond. They either had power, immense wealth, or both. It was a cold uncertainty of the unknown. However, she was comforted by the fact that she wasn't going from England alone. Although most families sent their children to Beauxbatons, a few ended up at Durmstrang—the Mulciber family, for instance.
Gregor Mulciber was boring and far too serious, as he tried so hard to meet his father's expectations, but he was reliable. So, when they met at the Ministry, they took hold of the charmed Portkey together.
From books, she roughly knew what to expect, but she was still a bit disappointed. The four-story smaller castle nestled among the mountains looked more like a stark defensive fortress prepared for a siege. It didn't look like a school at all. Vespera immediately wondered what kind of life the school's founder must have led. Was it truly full of bloodshed, just like in the stories?
After a while, she and Gregor, along with the other students who had appeared there, headed toward the castle.
Durmstrang was a shock from the very beginning. Professors disciplined disobedient and noisy students directly with Dark Magic. During the first week, she often heard complaints from various children about how they would tell their parents back home. The professors only laughed and grew even harsher. After a few days, the complaints ceased entirely. The Lords of the Houses wanted their spoiled children to become powerful wizards, and they knew exactly how things worked at Durmstrang.
Vespera, fortunately, was careful from the start. She preferred to stay quiet and observe how things ran at the school. Duels and fights directly in the castle were nothing unusual; they were even openly encouraged. Of course, everything had its rules. As long as there was no death or permanent consequence, students could fight as they pleased. Everyone was careful, though, because the punishments from the professors could be quite cruel—depending on the severity of the offense.
This resulted in students clustering into small groups that went everywhere together. The Scandinavians stuck together, the Germans with the Austrians, and the Czechoslovaks with the Poles. Duels in the school corridors thus usually looked like skirmishes between one group and another. Others watched them curiously from a safe distance, but since someone was occasionally hit by a stray spell, everyone quickly learned at least a basic Protego.
That was how it worked only at the beginning. Communication wasn't a problem thanks to the Babelian Charm, which anchored the translated language directly in the mind. Over time, the original groups dissolved and new, international ones formed... That was exactly what happened to Vespera's English group. Gregor was reliable but boring, and the others weren't much better—everyone was somehow devoid of humor. Vespera felt completely alone among those boys, but at least she knew she could rely on them if necessary.
Vespera was immensely interested in one lonely, pale, dark-haired girl. She was the same age as Vespera, and she knew the girl came from Czechoslovakia. Everyone, however, treated her with hostility. She was often attacked by several students at once, and although she was skilled, she always lost against the numbers. She had no chance against a whole group, even if she managed to take down a few opponents. Vespera was fascinated by her pride—she didn't give up, didn't complain, and never cried. She fought, lost, got back up, and fought again next time.
It didn't take long for Vespera to find out her name: Elizabeth Báthory. Her family originally came from Hungary, but at this time, they were designated as Czechoslovak. They were one of the darkest families in the world; they were extremely feared but also hated. Their family history was exceptionally bloody. Rumors swirled around the school that one of the family members had sacrificed more than two thousand young girls in blood rituals.
Vespera didn't understand one thing: if her family was so feared, why did those stupid boys constantly attack her? Shouldn't they be trembling with fear instead?
Vespera considered for a moment whether to stand up for her. The girl's courage was likable to her, but in the end, it was boredom and a sense of fair play that convinced her. If it were a one-on-one duel, it would be fine. But to be bullied by such a massive majority for long months? Vespera's patience ran out. When Elizabeth was under attack again one day, she simply joined her side. Of course, they still lost—the triple advantage did its work. But when Gregor and the other boys heard that Vespera had been injured, they immediately retaliated. Thanks to Vespera's support, Elizabeth was no longer such an easy target, and that was exactly what made them friends.
It turned out that the Báthory family was feared mainly for their knowledge. After centuries of hatred, they had become more like pacifists who, however, did not hesitate to use family rituals for bloody vengeance if necessary. For the last century, they had tried to change and integrate among the European families, but the distrust of their surroundings was still immense. Elizabeth herself was initially quiet and uncertain, yet still combative. She was, however, significantly more peaceful than Vespera, who never hesitated to take revenge.
As they grew and studied, they became inseparable friends and gradually detached themselves completely from the boy group.
The coursework became harder with each passing year, and the professors more rigorous. While other students began looking for romance in the corridors, Vespera remained passionate about combat and Dark Magic. She knew, however, that she simply didn't have enough raw magical power to match her idols. Therefore, instead of loud and magically demanding spells, she focused on precision and technique. Not that she was weak—she was among the most powerful in her year—but she understood she wouldn't be a second Morgana. Together with Elizabeth, they formed a feared dueling duo that few dared to stand against.
While Elizabeth's parents gave her a free hand, Vespera's father pressed her during every holiday, presenting her with marriage proposals. How was she to explain to him that she was interested in no one? She knew Gregor was in love with her, and she really wanted to give it a chance, but she felt nothing for him beyond friendship.
At first, she thought she was simply broken. It was Elizabeth who explained her sexuality in more detail and forced her to experiment a little. Vespera kissed the most handsome Finnish boy in school, who had hair like a Viking, and she even tried kissing Elizabeth. She felt absolutely nothing, however.
How was she to admit to her father and the entire House that she was asexual? She had no interest in romantic love, and so, with a feeling of shame, she began to avoid her family. Instead of returning home for the holidays, she went to the Báthorys'. She replied to her relatives, but she ignored her father's messages and insistence.
She enjoyed the summer with Elizabeth in their family castle in Cachtice, until it was too late. Elizabeth's parents respected Vespera's lack of interest in men and granted their own daughter the same freedom. It was the calm before the storm. But when Vespera received a message from her cousin Narcissa, her world collapsed at its foundations.
The family was dead and her brother was in Azkaban. Suddenly, she was the last member of the House of Rosier at liberty. It looked as though if she didn't produce an heir, their name would perish along with Evan, who was to spend the rest of his life in custody.
The following years were an agony. She stayed more in magical Czechoslovakia and Poland than home in England. Elizabeth and her family supported her quietly and stood by her, but the world outside had changed. Gregor had changed, too. From an old friend, he had become someone else entirely—driven by greed. Instead of the sincere love he once felt for her, Vespera now saw only a desire for the property and the name of her House in his eyes. For a moment, she considered accepting his marriage proposal after all to save the family, but the idea of marriage was so utterly repulsive to her that she couldn't do it.
Vespera was consumed by guilt. If she hadn't avoided the family, they might all still be alive. One extra wand in the family manor could have meant the difference between life and death. She loved her family, and because of her own selfishness, she had lost them. She often woke with a start; her dreams tortured her, and in them, she constantly saw the dead faces of her loved ones.
She still had a good relationship with Narcissa, though she sometimes hated her almost irrationally. Vespera knew her cousin wasn't to blame for anything, but sometimes she was sure Narcissa knew exactly what she was thinking—that sympathetic look gave her away. But they could sympathize with each other; just as the House of Rosier had fallen, so had the House of Black. Narcissa never mentioned her sister's death in the Rosier manor, but Vespera felt she was suffering internally, though she was ashamed to admit it. They preferred to avoid the topic. Vespera visited her regularly, but... each time, she dreaded what news the owl would deliver next.
When she learned that a young Rosier had appeared at Hogwarts, looking exactly like a young Evan, she refused to believe it. Vespera was overcome by hysterical laughter. Narcissa had once completely destroyed her with one message, and now, with another short message, she had poured new hope into her veins.
From September, report after report piled up about a young heir who wore the family ring on his hand. Ranrok confirmed to Vespera that the boy was legitimate, but at the same time informed her that, at Patrik's own request, he had not informed her of his existence sooner. He also warned her of his brightness and that he had taken a dagger from the family vault.
Vespera immediately thought that he was afraid of her. That he might want nothing to do with her. However, Elizabeth led her out of these dark thoughts and the paralyzing fear of rejection. She forced her to suppress her worries, and Vespera finally resolved to visit him directly at Hogwarts.
The moment her eyes landed on Patrik, she knew he was a true Rosier. And in that same second, it was clear to her that she would do anything in the world just to keep him safe. She would kill for him, and if necessary, she would lay down her own life without hesitation. Every facial expression, every gesture, and every word painfully reminded her of what she had once lost and what she must now guard at all costs.
When she first saw him, she wasn't entirely sure who his mother was. Patrik, however, had features in his face that he undoubtedly shared with the Black family—and only one woman from that House had grown up directly in their manor.
Vespera used all her connections to expedite the permit to visit Azkaban. For the first time in years, with shame in her heart, she saw Evan again. He didn't reproach her for anything at all. Although her Occlumency was as firm as a rock, she felt like that small, inexperienced girl again before her brother—just as she had when he taught her Legilimency before her departure for Durmstrang. She felt as though he could see her every thought, every hidden emotion and memory.
Evan confirmed the origin of his son. Even though he looked physically broken and destroyed by the Dementors, the look he gave her was still as authoritative as it had once been. When he commanded her to guard Patrik as best she could, her knees buckled. With complete seriousness, she promised him that she would lay down her own life for her nephew.
On that day, Vespera Rosier definitively stopped running from her name. She had a goal. She had a family. And she had someone for whom it was worth living again.
Christmas with Patrik was the best she had experienced in years. She melancholically recalled the time when she was still a child in the family circle. Vespera wasn't sure at first how to behave toward her nephew—there was a large age gap, after all. But Patrik acted older and was more intelligent than she expected. He didn't act like a child, so it was quite simple. She began to treat him as an equal.
His talent and magical power amazed her. Once, when she was younger, she would certainly have envied him, but now she hoped he would be the most powerful wizard that ever existed. He certainly had the talent and the power for it. Of course, at Hogwarts, he joked about murders more like a Black than a Rosier... but everyone has some flaws. Vespera, for example, knew she was quite cold and stiff, so she didn't blame him for it.
It was a huge surprise for Vespera when she woke up at St. Mungo's after an attempted murder. She was certain there was no one with a sufficiently serious motive. And on top of that, a loud, bright Confringo? She dimly recalled how the necklace from her nephew had jerked her and how she had instinctively cast Protego. It was a reflex built up in the corridors of Durmstrang. She still refused to admit, however, that it could have been Gregor. Why would he do it? She believed that somewhere deep in his soul, a piece of old friendship still lived.
The next day, it was too late. Her beloved nephew had killed Gregor without mercy when he came to visit her. Was it really him who wanted to kill her? That was a question she would no longer get an answer to. It was sad, but Gregor was already a stranger to her. That young Gregor who once had her back, however, would remain in her memories forever.
At Mungo's, they put her back together quickly. Most of the spell was fortunately stopped by her Protego, so they restored her burned skin without problems, and the organs damaged by the pressure wave healed just as quickly thanks to potions. Vespera was already looking forward to the first big holiday in the family manor with her nephew. They could also go to Elizabeth's in Cachtice, to magical Krakow, or to Rome... the world was big.
From a distance, she watched him disembark the Hogwarts Express with his friends. She noticed the young Malfoy among them, a red-haired girl, and the young Nott. She didn't recognize the others by appearance, but she saw how the girls from different houses were eyeing him. And also, how the other students subconsciously stepped out of his way as he left the train.
She would have wondered why others so subconsciously stepped out of his way, were it not for the fact that several curious families had already contacted her. They had heard of his wandless fire magic in front of Dumbledore and took it as a challenge from a future Dark Lord. Fools. He also walked with far too much confidence. Vespera only strongly hoped he would be powerful enough to maintain that confidence.
Of course, on the very first day, they ended up in the training room after eating. Vespera was curious about his magical progress. Most people go through levels of magic gradually—from Everte Statum through Os Frangere to the higher ones. Patrik, however, wasn't interested in moderately powerful spells and skipped straight to the murderous Reducto. Vespera was amused by this, but she had full confidence that he would master it. He certainly had the talent for it, and even if he didn't, he could always come back to it later.
Instead of asking about Reducto or other, weaker magic, however, he straight away caught her off guard with something else entirely. Vespera wasn't sure she had heard correctly.
"What? Repeat that for me, please," she asked him, hoping he was just joking.
He wasn't.
"Could you teach me the Unforgivable Curses?" Patrik smiled at her charmingly. He was already as tall as she was, and so Vespera stared directly into his eyes in disbelief. The only thing that still betrayed his age was the slightly breaking child's voice and chubby cheeks. Vespera immediately grabbed them and started stretching them.
"Aunt Vesperaaaa!" he tried to defend himself.
She reluctantly let him go and asked curiously: "Why the Unforgivable Curses, and why now?"
Even as she finished the question, she knew internally that she would show them to him. She would try to teach him everything he could think of. Vespera was certain that no child should learn such dangerous magic... only Patrik definitely wasn't an ordinary child. When she compared him with those spoiled brats from various social events she had experienced in her life, he was somewhere else entirely. Though she had to admit that her love for him might have been skewing reality a little.
He was already drawing breath for an answer when she laughed and grabbed his cheek again.
***
Author's note:
This was quite a substantial chapter focusing on Vespera Rosier's background. Like many adults in this world, she carries her share of psychological scars. Having lost so much, our MC has become everything to her—she's developed a deep, almost singular fixation on him. I wanted to capture how the Heads of Houses shaped their daughters from a young age, molding them to accept their place in the family hierarchy and their predetermined futures.
***
Step into the Restricted Section
The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
Enter the Restricted Section here: you-know-what/PatrikWriter
Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(16):
59. The Mind of a Rosier
60. The Lioness and the Black Blood
61. A Rosier, Not a Goyle
62. The Babel Charm and the Emperor's Dagger
63. Business and Bloodshed
64. Cruelty for Cruelty
65. Adopted by Fate
66. The Scent of Darkness
67. Socks, Sandals, and Sorcery
68. From Peaks to Plates
69. Ashes of Justice
70. The Scent of Despair
71. The Old Bird's Wisdom
72. Toujours Pur
73. The Emperor of Mankind
74. Two Romans Walk into a Bar...
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