The Demon Within is now complete! The entire story is finished and available to read right now. You can find all chapters by visiting my profile. Enjoy!
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The rest of December was spent in intense training. Although I still hadn't achieved absolute precision with the Os Frangere spell, I was getting better. I managed to break bones every time, but Vespera noted that it was still far from ideal. She warned me sternly to avoid this spell in common duels—unless my life was on the line, it wasn't worth the risk of an unintended consequence.
However, this drill helped me immensely in a magical sense. I possessed great power for my age, but I came to realize that precision was just as vital. If I were to overexert every spell unnecessarily, I would run into serious trouble with core exhaustion during longer duels in the future.
I grew to respect Vespera more and more. I felt her genuine support and interest in my development. She was exactly the kind of pragmatic and powerful woman I admired: cold and inaccessible to strangers, yet sensitive and protective toward family.
Os Frangere, however, wasn't the only spell she taught me at the end of the year. When I showed her the dagger I had taken from the family vault, she knew its purpose immediately. Because of this, she decided to initiate me into blood curses—and more importantly, to teach me the counter-curse.
We began with the Blood-Boiling Curse, the incantation of which was: Sanguinem ardere sinite. The beam was a deep, rich red. Due to the extra word, it was relatively slow in a wizarding duel and significantly more demanding in terms of concentration. I must admit... before I fully mastered my power, the dummy literally exploded under my hands a few times.
Practicing this curse took longer than I had anticipated. It required immense mental stability, so Vespera and I decided to leave the teaching of the counter-curse until January.
On the thirtieth of December, the day before New Year's Eve as it's known in the mundane world, Vespera and I began preparing for the Yule celebration—the winter solstice and the honoring of our ancestors. This celebration followed a precise procedure that had been a tradition in our family for centuries.
First, we selected and felled a tree in the garden. Its size didn't matter; the main thing was that it had to be healthy and not rotten. We needed it to create a ritual log.
Toward evening, we placed the log into the fireplace, beneath which we had situated a large steel basin. If you're wondering why, the explanation was simple: the log had to burn for exactly twenty-four hours. The fire in the grate had to be regulated and cooled precisely so that the wood would smolder and burn for the designated time. Honestly, it felt like a ritual with strictly defined ingredients, and I could hardly wait for the celebration.
We agreed to skip Dark Arts practice on the final day of the year. Instead, I devoted my time to translating Morgana's Codex Ritualis, physical training, and light exercises in elementary magic—just enough to stay in shape without exhausting myself. Vespera looked at me a bit strangely as I ran outside in the garden in that freezing cold, but she only shrugged silently and let it be.
For the festive dinner, I naturally "dressed up" a bit. I chose a more elegant robe stitched with silver thread, and as soon as I entered the dining room, it proved to be a good choice. Vespera was already waiting for me in a form-fitting, elegant black dress that hugged her figure perfectly.
The festive table groaned under the weight of the food, which differed from our usual fare. In the center sat a large silver tray with a roasted boar, an apple in its mouth. As soon as I caught its scent, my mouth began to water. Decanters with various alcohols were arranged around it. Without unnecessary words or prayers, we took our seats. Suddenly, a massive knife rose into the air and began to carve the boar with surgical precision.
Generous portions of juicy meat landed on our plates. I immediately added roasted potatoes and a fresh vegetable salad. Wishing each other a good meal, we dug in.
"Patrik, will you have beer or mulled wine with your meal? The beer is bitter, while the wine is relatively sweet, so I would recommend that to you instead," Vespera said suddenly, already pouring a deep red liquid from a decanter.
"Hm, I don't really feel like having alcohol with my food," I replied honestly.
"You must choose, it is tradition. I don't usually drink much myself, but this serves a purpose," she commanded with a playful yet firm smile.
"What purpose does it serve?" I asked curiously. "I'll have the beer then."
I didn't even have to pour it myself; the second decanter immediately levitated over my glass and began pouring a sparkling yellow liquid into my chalice. "I hope it's at least chilled," I thought to myself.
"By drinking wine and beer, we honor the gods who had a great influence on our lineage. With wine, we pay respect to Odin; with beer, to Thor. With the boar, we honor Freya, so she may bring us luck in love, war, and magic," Vespera explained with undisguised joy. She paused for a moment to take a sip of her wine and added with a melancholic smile: "At least, that's how my mother used to explain it to me."
Once we had eaten our fill, I expected the food to vanish immediately, as was custom. Today, however, was the opposite. Vespera noticed my inquisitive look and explained: "We leave the leftovers on the table all night in honor of Odin's horse, Sleipnir."
After a moment, she spoke again: "It's time for gifts, Patrik!" Her voice clearly betrayed her excitement and impatience.
"Of course," I replied dryly. I hadn't genuinely looked forward to gifts in a long time; I always bought everything I needed myself. I was more interested in the good food and the peaceful family atmosphere.
Vespera completely ignored my dry tone and pulled me into the drawing room, where a fire was already crackling in the fireplace. The room was filled with a pleasant dimness and the intoxicating aroma of burning wood. The gifts were already piled on the table, and I must admit, there were quite a few of them.
I quickly called Jobo to bring the gift I had for Vespera. He knew exactly which one I meant. It wasn't that I had shared my plan with him, but I simply couldn't wrap a package manually to save my life. It always ended in a disaster. In the past, a girlfriend had always handled it for me, but now I had to rely on Jobo. With a snap of his fingers, he did a perfect job. He couldn't suggest any spell for it, though—he used his magic instinctively and without any incantations.
A standard child would likely have rushed to the pile of gifts under the tree immediately, but I preferred to hand the package to Vespera first. She looked at me with surprise, but after a moment, I saw her eyes begin to glisten. She was clearly moved—ever since her only brother, my father, had been locked in Azkaban, she hadn't received anything from anyone who shared her blood.
I was curious to see what she would say. After a moment, she pulled herself together and immediately tore the paper like an impatient child. it was a funny contrast to her usual behavior. She opened the box and looked searchingly at the necklace. I must have hit the mark with her taste, as she smiled and carefully pulled it out. Then, she paused.
When she held it up against the light, she saw the other side, which was engraved with ancient protective runes. She immediately flipped it over and began to decipher them with the professional interest of a witch.
After a moment, she had to ask: "I see protective runes here, but I don't quite understand everything. I must admit, runes were never my strong suit. What exactly does it do, and where did you get it?"
"It's from Cillian Vane in Diagon Alley," I replied calmly. "The necklace ambiently absorbs magic from its surroundings. It warms up slightly if someone with negative emotions toward you is nearby. And if someone casts a spell at you, it gets even hotter and tries to pull you gently so that you dodge it. Naturally, it's only a gentle nudge; it won't get you out of the line of fire entirely on its own."
She looked at me in shock, but recovered after a moment. "Wow, that must have been incredibly expensive from Master Vane. I certainly didn't give you that many Galleons for your shopping," she reacted with a pleased smile and a spark of suspicion in her eyes.
"You are my favorite aunt, after all. Only the best for you," I replied with a slight smirk.
Vespera hesitated for a second, then grabbed me and gave me a tight hug. It was the kind of hug where you feel like your aunt is about to suffocate you, but at the same time, you feel that you are the only family she has left on the outside. When she finally let go, she looked lady-like again, though her eyes betrayed her.
"Alright, enough of that," she said, nodding toward the gifts on the table. "It's your turn now."
There were quite a few of them, so I set about unwrapping them immediately. Agnes and I had agreed to exchange gifts back at Hogwarts, so I was curious who all these packages were from. Most of them, understandably, were from Vespera. I received black leather gloves, a scarf with our family crest, and a formal robe that was a bit too ornate for my taste, though I didn't intend to criticize her for it. What struck me most, however, was another gift—a luxury silver watch. On the back, the family crest was engraved, and the sides of the dial featured detailed roses with thorns. They looked pragmatic and elegant, without any unnecessary decoration. There were various buttons on the sides; pressing the first one revealed a crescent moon on the dial. It was clearly a lunar phase indicator for the next full moon. I decided to explore the other functions later, but it was already clear to me that this was "top-tier."
"Thank you, this watch definitely outdid my gift, Aunt," I admitted appreciatively.
She shook her head with a smile. "Honestly, that watch has been in our family for centuries. Usually, it's worn by the Head of the House or the heir. It originally belonged to Evan, so it's actually a gift from your father as well."
Only three smaller packages remained on the table, so I unwrapped them quickly. The first was a luxury emerald quill and a pile of sweets from Draco Malfoy. I'd have to write to him; I hadn't expected him to send anything, otherwise I would have made an arrangement with him similar to Agnes. What surprised me more, though, were the gifts from Tobias Yaxley and Theodore Nott. They sent only sweets and a brief Christmas greeting. I remembered how they had watched me with interest at school and talked to Agnes, but they had never approached me directly. Strange.
"Finished, Patrik? We need to start preparing soon," Vespera said suddenly.
"Yes, finished," I nodded and followed her back into the dining room.
The steel basin rose from the fireplace, containing the ashes from the log after its full twenty-four hours of burning. Vespera then took the decanters of wine and beer from the table and, with ritual solemnity, poured them into the basin. With a snap of his fingers, Jobo appeared and handed her seven roses with thorns. With a single sharp wave of her wand, Vespera chopped them into small pieces, which she immediately mixed with the ashes.
Jobo handed her a wooden spoon, and my aunt began to mix all the ingredients by hand: the pieces of roses, the ashes, the wine, and the beer. A thick, dark mixture formed.
"The log burned for twenty-four hours for our protection against darkness and misfortune. We have added an offering to the gods and the symbol of our house—the roses with thorns," Vespera explained as a strange, spicy aroma began to rise from the basin.
Next, Jobo handed us two wooden bowls, and Vespera divided the resulting mixture evenly between them. We stepped out through the back entrance, where a vast expanse of our lands stretched before us in the moonlight, starting with the well-kept garden.
I walked behind Vespera to a massive tree at the very edge of the garden. There she stopped and, with a deadly serious expression, began to explain: "At exactly midnight, I will begin to sing a song to honor the ancestors. You must not interrupt me. When I finish singing, do exactly as I do." She took a small pocket watch from her bodice to check the remaining time.
As soon as she saw that it had struck midnight, she began to sing unhurriedly in a pleasant, melodic voice:
Sub radicibus arborum vetustarum stamus,
ubi terra nomina maiorum spirat.
Gressus eorum adhuc in pulvere sentimus,
vox eorum est ventus qui nos tantum tuetur.
Da nobis vim, cum nox longa est,
et fortunam quae non perit.
Sit cras vultu claro,
et praeteritum nos consecret.
With the first note of the song, I felt the air suddenly tremble. An intense, almost tangible magic began to swirl around us, intensifying with every verse. When Vespera finished singing, she emptied her bowl onto the exposed roots of the tree. I followed her without hesitation. She scraped the rest of the mixture out with her fingers and gently smeared it on her forehead. As soon as I marked my own forehead with the mixture, Vespera definitively concluded the ritual with the final verses:
Ex sanguine et memoria ardet flamma tacita, quam nos ipsi porro ferimus.
At that moment, an unexpected sensation flooded me. It was as if I were suddenly surrounded and embraced by my ancestors; I felt their palms on my shoulders, a sense of protection, safety, and boundless love. It was a warm, deep peace. I knew the ritual had been successful. Unlike Morgana's ritual, which left me feeling a wild euphoria, this one left me with a quiet certainty and stability.
I felt Vespera's gaze on me. She watched me with that melancholic smile of hers, and it was clear to me that her thoughts were returning somewhere to her childhood. For years, she had to honor the ancestors all alone, and my presence clearly meant a lot to her.
After a while, we brought it to a close. Without many words, we said our goodnights and went to our rooms. It was an experience that will stay in my head. I knew that from now on, it was my duty as well, and I would gladly repeat this ritual every year.
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The rest of the holidays passed in a flash. I more or less mastered the Blood-Boiling Curse; according to Vespera's estimate, a victim without the counter-curse would survive barely thirty minutes. Naturally, my aunt made sure that I mastered the counter-curse one hundred percent as well. It was significantly simpler, and I had it "nailed down" within an hour.
By the end of the break, I felt more powerful and precise, so I considered them a huge success. I was interested in reading the family grimoire, but only the Head of the House had access to it. It is unlocked by the Head's ring, which my father still has in Azkaban. The common practice was for the Head of the House to teach family spells and techniques from the grimoire at their own discretion under oath, so that secrets would not leak outside the family.
Vespera admitted to me that it was a tradition in our house to teach children Legilimency and Occlumency from a very young age. However, my grandfather had cut her off from the other family spells and techniques. At first, according to him, she didn't have enough magical power, and later she pointedly avoided him. He died before he could teach her more than mind magic, so she remained self-taught in many respects, relying on what she learned on her own or what she brought back from Durmstrang.
Not all houses were so foresighted; some were foolish enough to sell family secrets when they ran into financial or political trouble.
I didn't choose anything from the family library this time. Not because there was nothing interesting in it, but I decided to focus fully on precision, speed, and aim. Expanding my repertoire didn't make sense to me yet, not until I could use the spells I already knew with absolute accuracy.
On the morning of the seventh of January, we apparated to Platform 9 ¾. Honestly? I didn't feel like going to school at all. Training with Vespera had taken a lot out of me, and although we hadn't dueled, I felt much more magically confident than before. I liked it at the castle—after these holidays, I already considered it home.
As soon as we stepped through the barrier, the noise and steam from the Hogwarts Express hit me in the face. Vespera immediately gave me a firm squeeze. I had to promise her that I would write about every little thing that happened at school and that I wouldn't slack off on my training.
"Take care of yourself, Patrik," she whispered into my ear. It was obvious that my departure saddened her. Her smile was clearly forced, but there was a glint in her eyes that said everything.
"I will, Aunt. I'll write to you soon," I replied and gave her hand one last firm squeeze.
I waved goodbye for the final time and set off to find Agnes.
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Author's note:
I'll be honest, I struggled with this chapter quite a bit, but I'm happy with how the ritual scenes turned out. I really hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I eventually enjoyed finishing it! Did the Yule traditions intrigue you, or was it too much lore? I'd love to hear your feedback.
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Upcoming Chapters:
25. Cousins and Choices
26. The General in Training
27. SaD:Shadows of the Past
28. Equality is an Illusion
29. The Phoenix's Verdict