Snow fell silently across the Highland moors, blanketing the rolling hills in a sheen of white that glowed faintly under the pale December sun. Blake Castle stood atop the cliffs like a wound carved into the land—black, tall, and proud. No Christmas wreath adorned its gates. No warmth escaped its thick walls. It was not a place of celebration, but a place of legacy and power.
Elise stepped down from the enchanted carriage that had delivered him from the Hogwarts Express platform to the castle gates. The cold bit through his gloves, and the air seemed to carry the weight of old blood and buried expectations. The house elf that greeted him bowed low without speaking, its eyes cast to the stones beneath its feet.
The great oak doors opened to reveal the entrance hall—unchanged, as always. Still cold. Still lined with grim portraits of ancient Blakes, their silver-threaded robes stark against the dark stone. They watched him as he entered, their painted eyes filled with contempt or curiosity. Elise didn't flinch.
"Master Elias," the steward said with a measured nod. "The Lord is waiting."
Of course he is, Elise thought grimly.
Lord Cassian Blake sat in the vast drawing room, framed by the light of a roaring fire that did little to touch the frost in the chamber. He rose slowly when Elise entered, tall and imposing even after years of magical duels and political warfare. His features were chiseled, aristocratic—and twisted now by fury restrained only by cold decorum.
"You arrived late," he said without preamble.
"The train was delayed by the snow," Elise answered, his voice even.
Cassian didn't respond to the excuse. He circled Elise once, eyeing his son's scarlet-and-gold scarf like it was a stain. Then, with a slow, deliberate tone, he said:
"You disgrace this family every second you remain in that wretched House."
Elise held his ground. "Gryffindor is not wretched."
Cassian's eyes narrowed. "Gryffindor is sentiment. It is weakness, idealism, mudblood-loving rot. The Blakes do not belong there."
"That's not your decision to make anymore," Elise replied. "The Sorting Hat put me where I belong. I accepted that."
The crack of skin against skin echoed like a whip. Elise's head snapped sideways, the burn blooming across his cheek. He didn't fall, but he staggered back a step.
"You belong to me," Cassian snarled, his wand now out and trembling in his hand. "You were raised as a legacy. You were raised to continue this bloodline, to lead. Not to fraternize with half-breeds and traitors. You—my son—will not shame me like this."
Elise's fingers curled into fists, his breath sharp. But he didn't draw his wand. He stared at his father, unflinching, his voice low.
"I will not be what you want me to be. I've seen what your pride has done to this family. I've seen the darkness it breeds."
"You will obey." Cassian advanced on him, and Elise tensed. "Or you are no son of mine. If you do not request a transfer to Slytherin, if you continue this rebellion—I will have you disinherited. Stripped of the Blake name. Do you hear me?"
The silence that followed was like thunder between them.
Then Elise, standing under the looming gaze of centuries of ancestors, gave his answer.
"Then disown me."
Cassian's face twisted—whether in fury or heartbreak, Elise could not tell. The elder Blake turned his back to him and walked to the hearth, his hand gripping the mantel hard enough to whiten his knuckles.
"Get out of my sight."
The corridor to Elise's childhood room was long and dark. The same family relics hung from the walls, preserved in pristine condition. He passed the portrait of his mother—long dead, but her face still kind in paint. She had been the only one who ever showed warmth in these halls.
He locked the door behind him and collapsed into the velvet armchair by the window. His hand trembled slightly. He touched his cheek—it throbbed from the slap, but not as much as the ache building inside him.
The System chimed faintly in his mind, its blue interface flickering to life.
Fate Points Gained: +25
Emotional Turmoil – Resisting Familial Legacy
+15 points – Psychological milestone achieved
+10 points – System milestone: "Defiance of Bloodline"
For a moment, Elise simply stared out the window at the blizzard swirling across the grounds. Then, slowly, he opened the System Shop.
He scrolled through the upgrades without focus—his thoughts were elsewhere.
This wasn't just a holiday. It was a test. A severing.
He had survived.
But he was no longer a child of Blake Castle.
The chamber was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single enchanted orb hovering above the bed. Elise sat at his old writing desk, the parchment before him untouched for what felt like an hour. A quill rested between his fingers, unmoving.
Outside, the snow had thickened, coating the battlements in ice. The castle groaned under the cold wind, and somewhere, a painting door clicked shut, like a memory exiling itself.
He finally dipped the quill in ink and began to write—not a letter to anyone, but a page to himself. Something private. A reminder that what had happened in that room tonight would define his path from here on.
Personal Log: December 22nd
I stood my ground. I chose not to kneel.
My father's fury is no longer something I fear—it is something I understand. He is terrified of irrelevance. Of losing control. Of watching the old world slip away.
He believes blood is everything. But blood is not destiny. Legacy is not freedom. I am done pretending that I must be an heir. I do not want a throne carved from bones. I want a life I choose.
I will not apologize for the House I was sorted into.
I will never become the man he wants me to be.
The log vanished in a flicker of blue light as the System archived it.
New Fate Trait Unlocked: "Iron Will"
+5% resistance to fear-based enchantments
+10% resistance to psychological manipulation
Passive bonus to leadership in high-pressure scenarios
System Alert:
New Shop Inventory Unlocked: "Legacy of the Flame"
Available only during Winter Solstice – Ends in 2 days.
Elise clicked the new tab out of curiosity. It revealed an odd assortment—phoenix feather upgrades, spiritual endurance training, a charm that allowed temporary immunity to pain, and a strange item simply titled:
"Key of Return" – 200 Fate Points
Description: Allows user to set a magical anchor point accessible from anywhere in the world. Can summon or return to this point at will.
It echoed his plans for the Room of Requirement.
He hesitated—then bookmarked it. He'd save up. Soon.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Elise stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the frozen garden below. The stars above Blake Castle were cold, but vast—blinking quietly in the sky, indifferent to the pain of men.
He closed his eyes and exhaled.
He wasn't entirely sure who he was becoming. But he knew who he wasn't.
The boy who knelt before his father was gone.
Now, there was only the boy who endured.