In the quiet depths of the Hogwarts library, Cael sat hunched over a thick volume, the pale candlelight casting shadows across the pages. His search had stretched on for hours, page after page yielding nothing truly useful—until he stumbled across a name. A witch, long forgotten by most, mentioned briefly in the early chronicles of Hogwarts' founding. Her surname: Valoryn.
She was described only in passing. A loyal ally of the four founders, she had traveled across Britain during those perilous early years, rescuing magical children—some as young as four—from persecution and bringing them to Hogwarts. There was no mention of her descendants, no family tree, no legacy—only a small paragraph tucked within the section titled "Contributors to the Founding of Hogwarts."
Cael leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. This wasn't a new family, nor a common one. It was ancient—older than he could've guessed. But where did they come from? England? Somewhere else?
He scoured the rest of the library for hours more, hunting for anything related to the Valoryn name. But there was nothing. Not even in the restricted section. For a moment, he considered going to Walburga Black—perhaps she might know. But he quickly dismissed the idea. Their last interaction had gone poorly, and if she agreed to help, it would likely come at a heavy cost—probably another binding magical contract, and this time, there would be no escaping it.
He thought of Dumbledore next. Perhaps the Headmaster would know something. With that, Cael packed up his things and made his way through the winding castle corridors until he stood before the stone eagle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
But as he raised his hand to speak the password, he froze.
'What if this name—this family—put him in danger? What if Dumbledore began watching him more closely? What if this bloodline raised of Dumbeldore constant watch and followed his every move?'
He lowered his hand and turned away, retreating into the quiet of the corridors. As he wandered, deep in thought, a familiar, chilling presence made him stop. Floating ahead was the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin House, gliding silently down the hall.
And then it hit him.
The Baron was from the Founders' time.
"Mr. Baron! Mr. Baron—may I have a word with you?" Cael called.
The ghost didn't even turn. He simply floated forward as if Cael were invisible.
Desperate, Cael ran after him. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I need your help. It's about the Valoryn family. Please—do you know anything about them?"
At the mention of the name, the Baron halted mid-glide.
His ghostly form twisted slowly, and his pale, transparent face turned toward Cael. His gaze was sharp and intense.
"Where did you hear that name, boy?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Cael blinked, startled. "I—I found a mention of a witch in the early Hogwarts records. She helped bring magical children to the school during the time of the Founders. That's all I know. I was just… curious."
The Bloody Baron drifted forward, face now inches from Cael's.
"Don't lie to me," he hissed. "No one just gets curious about that name. Tell me the truth—or I won't speak of it again."
Cael glanced around. The portraits lining the walls had fallen suspiciously silent, their eyes following the scene.
He sighed.
"Can we go somewhere private?" he asked. "I'd rather not talk here."
The Baron said nothing, only floated ahead, and Cael followed. They weaved through narrow corridors until they reached an abandoned classroom, dust thick in the air, desks long forgotten. The Baron passed through the wall, and Cael entered through the door.
"Well?" the Baron said, his tone firm. "Explain."
"I will," Cael replied, "but only if you swear on your honor—not to repeat anything I say. Not to anyone."
The ghost narrowed his eyes, expression unreadable. "Do you think I give out oaths like sweets, boy? An oath upon honor is not a joke."
"I'm sorry," Cael said, standing firm. "But I have to be careful. You could tell someone. You might not mean to, but it could happen."
The Baron sneered, then finally nodded. "Very well. I swear upon my name and my honor that what is said here will remain between us. Now speak."
Cael raised his wand and cast a Muffliato charm to ensure no sound left the room.
"I received a Christmas present," he began. "There was a note. And on that note… the sender signed it with the name Valoryn."
The Baron's expression darkened.
"That's impossible," he said slowly. "They've been extinct for nearly three hundred years. The last of their line was a child—a young witch who attended Hogwarts. She was killed in a duel, defending her family. From then on, the name vanished. The Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance at Hogwarts have never recorded another Valoryn since. They are gone. Extinct."
"That's what I thought too," Cael replied. "But the sender claimed to be my father. Which would make me a Valoryn."
The ghost stared at him, as if searching for deception.
"But you don't bear the name," he said.
"My life is… complicated," Cael admitted. "I only recently discovered my mother is from the ancient Black family. And now, this. Valoryn. Claims to be my father ."
The Baron began to circle him slowly, drifting like a silent storm.
"If what you say is true," he murmured, "then it's news of great consequence. The Valoryn family hasn't walked these halls in centuries. That girl—she was the last. And she was powerful. Some say she died protecting her family's secrets. And now you…?"
"I found nothing else about them," Cael said. "Only that one witch mentioned in the founding records. But it sounds like they were around for far longer than I thought."
The Baron nodded slowly, then stopped in front of him.
"Listen to me, boy. Never reveal your connection to that family. Ever."
Cael frowned. "Why? I know they're secretive, but—"
"You don't understand," the Baron interrupted, voice grave. "That family was no ordinary one. They were present at the founding of the Ministry of Magic itself. And beyond that, they were the unseen hand behind the creation of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They were… nobles among nobles. The families you see as powerful today—the Malfoys, the Blacks, the Lestranges—they were nothing compared to the Valoryns. The Valoryns had their own knowledge, their own magic—strange and ancient. Unshared. Protected."
He floated a step closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Even Slytherin asked that witch to stay, to teach her magic to students. She refused."
Cael felt a chill run through him. "What kind of magic was it?"
The Baron's eyes gleamed.