Defense Office

Sevastyan had a feeling, when Eglantine averted her gaze, that her statement was not exactly as truthful as either of them would have liked it to have been. But he would not push the issue, especially after another had begun.

Curiosity drew him first to place the leather-bound books at one end of his desk, and then to sit down and take up the instrument in his hands. After all, Eglantine had handled it in the same way so it obviously wasn't cursed - or at least not with an instantaneous effect. Sevastyan's brows knitted together as he examined the wand. There was no denying that it possessed a kind of beauty. A ... a sinister beauty, if you will. Sevastyan even commented about it, though hadn't realized he had done so aloud.

Though he was no expert on wandlore, Sevastyan knew some of the traditional representations of wand woods. "How did you come upon this vand, Professor? I trust it is not your regular vone?" he asked pensively before finally placing the instrument back on the desk.

"Vot little I know about vandlore, the fact it is stained yew represents that its vielder is meant to do harm. Most Dark Vizards vill often take on a second vand, made of yew, to cover their tracks." Or, at least, he had. But he wasn't about to admit that to a colleague he didn't quite know that well yet. Kaminski wasn't quite as prominent a name here compared to its popularity in Russia.

"Is there anything you might be able to tell me about this vand?" he inquired curiously. Sure, he could hazard a lot of guesswork, but more data from which to draw his conclusions would be a proverbial godsend.

A sinister beauty, if you will... Eglantine's eyes darkened. So he did have a deeper experience with the Dark Arts than its defense...she had figures so much.

"I created it." she whispered. Arranging the events that had led to its creation, Eglantine began to wonder if she should tell the man before her the full story. It would help him determine how she had created it...but she was not certain he would believe her. Deciding that she already had enough problems with Viper knowing, Eglantine looked up to face Sevastyan.

"I delved to deeply into the Dark Arts. As a result, an elixir which is named Excessum was created. It could restore life and take it away." She was shaking slightly from the fear that was strangely consuming her. Never before had speaking of Excessum had much effect on her.

"You must have heard about Lord Voldemort's return to life. He was alive, but very old and weak. He took Excessum and became a young man again. But there was an unexpected side effect. It bonded him to Excessum's creator and he was unable to break the bond. Finally I broke it myself with another far darker bonding and he was diminished. Or so I thought." She paused, due to her body's extreme shaking. It subsided as she was silent.

"I then discovered that shards of his soul had remained bonded in me and as a result a woman of sorts was formed. She called herself Cerise, and attempted to overtake me to reassert herself as a Dark ruler. In the midst of one of these battles... this wand was formed."

"You did?" he asked, curious and admittedly a bit skeptical. Compared to what he had heard out in the hall, Eglantine didn't seem the type to delve into the dark arts. Unless he put it into an alternative perspective... Despite his tone, however, the darkened gray eyes looking back at Eglantine clearly displayed that he would hear her out.

As he listened, Sevastyan made a couple of observations. First was that she shook as she spoke. Had he not met her earlier in the year, he would have thought it was worry that divulging such a thing to him could cause repercussions if he said anything to anyone with any sort of influence. The thing was, she didn't have to worry about that at all. She was indeed nervous, that much was obvious, though he hadn't figured out why it seemed to consume her.

"Interesting..." Sevastyan commented, not sure how to make his stand on the topic. Everything seemed to fit: a dark elixir, consumed, causes the drinker to be bonded to the potion's creator. That's not too difficult, in a manner of speaking. A flash of anger had surfaced the moment Voldemort's name was mentioned, though the countenance clearly held no love of the wizard twice defeated, now apparently thrice defeated. Then... to continue... a darker bond breaks the first and everything is quiet. The false sense of security hence achieved. . . The final piece of the story - well, account, Sevastyan mentally corrected himself - was what concerned him the most.

"I had heard of Voldemort's return to life, and given vot is written in the history books about him, I vould not be surprised that he found your potion very tempting, indeed.

"Given it is Voldemort ve are talking about - in this new incarnation as 'Cerise' - I vould not be surprised if this vand contains at least some portion of Cerise's essence, if you vill, if not a shard of soul," he concluded. "It is just a hypothesis, however. About the runes on the side," Sevastyan paused his animated dialogue to point out the symbols, "I am a little rusty vith them, but I get the feeling it is as much symbolic as it is literal." Sevastyan ran his fingers over the runes, muttering in a whisper so quiet it was largely incomprehensible.

"You say Cerise attempted to overthrow you... does this mean you are no longer... sharing bodies vith her, shall ve say?" he asked, entirely out of curiosity.

Eglantine nodded.

"She was destroyed by another manifestation of Excessum. A spell called Excessum Neci." Her trembling fingers reached out to point to the wand.
"An ash core is taken from its first killing. These runes form the word...Excessum. In the old Gaelic, which I am fluent in. But the others say something else..." Her body finally calmed and she sighed.

Sevastyan’s expression was carefully neutral upon receiving this next piece of the puzzle. A potion – elixir, technically – a wand, and a spell, all with a similar connection to both Professor DeLanquar and Lord Voldemort at one point or another. . . highly intriguing. . .

“I assume you mean, by an ash core being taken, that its first victim vos turned to ashes as opposed to the vand vood?” Sevastyan was aware that different cultures viewed ash through both positive and negative lenses, hence how the wand would have the power to give and take away life. With the unforgivable Killing Curse, any wand could be used to take life away. . . but to give life? That in itself would upset the natural order of things, hence making it a dark artifact in the wrong hands. Sevastyan concluded that the elixir version of Excessum lent this ability to the wand. But, if the remains of the wand’s first killing were added to it. . . that would make for a powerful tool, indeed, and only increase the expanding list of death references. Sevastyan offered information very much along those same lines verbally in addition to having thought about it, though admitted that it was very much speculation.

Despite all he learned about Ancient Runes while at Durmstrang, Sevastyan couldn’t make heads nor tails of the text on his own. “Vone moment,” he requested, stood up slowly, and walked to his office bookshelf. He hadn’t yet inspected the titles there, but it didn’t take long to find the one he’d hoped would be there: a book on Rune translation. Sevastyan rejoined Eglantine at his desk. “I am a little rusty vith Rune translations,” he offered by way of explanation. Gently he placed the book between Eglantine and himself, clearly inviting her to take part in the translation if she desired.

“If I may ask, Professor. . . who else knows about this vand?”


((I wasn't sure how to go about translating the runes, so I hope this is okay...))

((lost my internet connection and had to retype this...sorry))

"Yes, he was reduced to ash." Eglantine stated, listening to Sevastyan's speculations. The man was a veritable genius. "It would probably gain in power as ash was added to it." Eglantine concluded as well.

Turning the wand, she pointed out the runes which spelled out Excessum. Her finger traced the wand's delicate engravings as she scanned the worn pages for answers.
"Bone...or is that Tears?" she muttered.

The final question forced her to look up. "Only you and I." she answered. Feeling the need to explain herself she added. "Kiara is very busy and already worried about more than her fair share. And as for Professor Viper...Let's just concur that I do not know if I can trust her. At least not now."

((It’s fine. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to reply to this last night. I had been working on it, though...))

Sevastyan blinked contemplatively and then nodded. Yes, Eglantine’s contribution to their theories seemed logical. “And if not all of the ash from this victim had been added, and vone vere to add more. . .” Sevastyan left the sentence to hang right where it was; knowing they both would determine the same thing. No need to state the obvious, right? “Of course, if this vand were to claim other victims, surely adding further traces of them vould only increase its power. It is unique, in this respect, if the vood of the vand could contain the flow of magic from the remains of multiple victims – potentially more powerful and dangerous than the fabled Elder Vand.” The tone of his voice held an odd mixture of emotional states: animated, curious, surprised, a dash of uncertainty, and something else of a darker nature but it was very subtle. The thought of having the wand claim multiple victims was far from attractive in Sevastyan’s present state of alignment, and it showed upon his face. Had he been exposed to this instrument a good decade earlier, his take on it would have been a lot different and not for the better.

At Eglantine’s question, Sevastyan examined the word in question engraved upon the wand, and the aged page of the book. “I vould say it vos bone: aside from the symbols and vot they indicate, bone is still used in old, Dark rituals around the vorld,” Sevastyan offered before trying to mentally decode the next word. ’Vot about bones?’ Sevastyan silently queried of the wand. ’Tell me of the secret you keep...’

It occurred to Sevastyan that Eglantine hadn’t expected him to ask her that question just by the reaction he received. The elaboration was enlightening, and he was slightly taken aback by the last bit, but schooled his face into a countenance of careful neutrality. “Very vell. It is no trouble, really. This is vot I’m getting paid for, and it is fascinating regardless. I just figured. . .” he paused, wondering how he should word what he wanted to say to where it didn’t sound so shady that she would take up arms against him. “I just figured the fewer hands stirring the cauldron, per se, the better. It is not something I vould make the student body avare of, or certain other Ministry-minded individuals. But then again, this is just my preference,” Sevastyan explained his reason for asking. She had come to him in the hopes to get answers, after all: it would be only common courtesy to inform her, at least by hint, that he’d done a bit more than dabble in the dark stuff, too.

He wondered vaguely if Professor DeLanquar knew what he knew about Viper’s family. Amaranth herself had mentioned that the name was well-known in this area. Unless there was some other underlying reason not to trust the Potions professor? Sevastyan decided to figuratively dip a toe into the waters of House issues at Hogwarts. “Slytherin seems to be an unpopular House. . . I confess to say that vhile I have heard of the House system here I am qvite at a loss as to its intricacies,” he commented conversationally. In his first class, Sevastyan had overheard some banter between Gryffindors and Slytherins that had just a hint of challenge. Perhaps this was the rivalry Viper had mentioned to him? If it was, then Sevastyan subsequently assumed they were just going easy on him for his first day in the post. A millennia feud between the red and green couldn’t possibly be that mild at its core.

Eglantine did not look up from the wand. The idea that it could become more powerful than the fabled Elder Wand was not totally unexpected. After all it had already easily claimed a life.

"Bone it is then." Eglantine muttered. She lifted her eyes to glance at the fellow professor. He was hiding his fascination remarkably well, still she had worked closely with her father one several occasions through out her life and had learned to read faces and emotions in order to keep from annoying him.

"You seem to know the Dark Arts better than most." she mentioned in response to his preference statement. Hoping he would not take her comment to be a prying accusation but rather a simple observation, Eglantine continued to work at the runes.

"It does appear to be unpopular, doesn't it." She stated, running a finger along the wand's runes. "I think this one is Eternal or Eternality." Then she glanced up to stare at him.
"I myself cannot understand the intricacies of the Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry. And I am Gryffindor's Head of House. Truthfully, the entire system of dividing a school into four separate classifications according to families, blood and abilities I find appalling and narrow minded at best. If you divide children into traditionally rival houses or factions, logic would dictate that they would naturally fall into the expected roles." For a moment she wondered if she had said too much, after all she did not want Professor Kaminski to think she was a modernist who disapproved of all traditions.

"And as for Professor Viper, our disagreements have nothing to do with house rivalry." she finished.

Sevastyan looked up from the wand in alarm at the professor. Scanning the features of her face with his eyes, and realizing it wasn't an accusing observation, he relaxed. "Yes, it vould seem that way. Only those that have delved into it can truly know..." he trailed off, wondering how much he should say. They were in private, after all: no students, no Ministry officials, and no portraits insofar as he was aware. Well, there were portraits, of course, but Sevastyan meant the spy-on-the-professor-and-report-back types.

"The Kaminski family's specialty has been the Dark Arts for many centuries..." he stated warily, not sure how Professor DeLanquar would take this news. Surely his record as a competent professor in Russia, and thusly able to acquire employment here at Hogwarts, would speak volumes in his favor? Sevastyan had a bad habit of expecting the worst.

Returning his attention to playing a kind of tennis between wand and book, Sevastyan came to the same conclusion as Eglantine. However, which was it? Eternal, or Eternality? It was only a slight difference, but precision was key even if translation was a bit . . . messy, in the literary sense. "It is... difficult to tell," Sevastyan admitted after a moment, silently cursing the ages of certain tomes that didn't magically renew their legibility. "This definitely looks like 'tee' 'vy' on the end." Pointing out said letters, Sevastyan contemplated the word for a bit longer. "I vould say it is 'eternality,' mainly due to its ending. Vot do you think?" While he awaited a response, Sevastyan busied himself with the next word.

'B. . . possibly d. . .' he mused, listening to what Eglantine was saying approximately at the same time.

So, he was correct: it was indeed Gryffindor and Slytherin at each others' throats. Well, that made things rather interesting. And Professor DeLanquar is the current Head of Gryffindor? That seemed to clear things up for Sevastyan: Amaranth Viper had stated she was the Head of Slytherin...

Sevastyan made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat at the logic of her statement about the Houses. "It is a unique tradition," he elaborated tentatively. "But perhaps it is folly, to sort so soon ven children are most impressionable?" It was only a suggestion, not intended to be offensive or acted upon. It seemed a good mix of old tradition and new thinking. Sevastyan considered himself to be the same way, on certain levels.

"Oh? Ven I spoke to her in the Great Hall she made it seem that vay," Sevastyan inquired about her and Viper's recent tension. Things weren't quite as figured out as he thought, then. "She didn't say anything about anyvone in particular, just that she apparently hasn't. . . how did she vord it? Ah yes, she 'hadn't outgrown the old rivalries' or some such to that effect," Sevastyan added hastily.

He had hardly taken his eyes off the wand since Professor DeLanquar had caught him off guard with her question. "This vord here..." Sevastyan pointed to the series of runes he was talking about, "Is this bond? Bound? Bund doesn't sound right. . . unless the 'd' is not a 'd'," he wondered.

"Of course." Eglantine stated simply. She could hardly judge his family history having such a darkened history herself and his confession of its dealings with the Dark Arts put her to ease. "As has the Rosiers." she admitted, feeling that he had trusted her enough to tell her about his family and that she could do the same.

"Here it is... Eternity." she smiled softly. Referring to his houses comment, Eglantine remarked bitterly. "The wizarding community seems prone to folly." She glanced down at the wand once again as he commented on Viper. Not wanting to discuss the younger woman, she nodded as he asked about a new set of runes.

"Bound or bond." she muttered. Finally looking up from the wand, she closed her eyes. "It was Viper's brother who I killed." she whispered. "Needless to say, our already fragile understanding was weakened even further, maybe even broken. Before that we had differences of opinion, with clothing, teaching methods, and other small things. Now she has good reason to hate me."

Eglantine pointed at the wand. "зола, I believe..."

Sevastyan mentally heaved a sigh of relief at her reply, grateful that she did not seem to find it as disturbing as some. However, such ease about the topic almost begged questions about her own lineage. Until, that was, she had made her own admission. A semblance of recognition crossed his features at the name. "I know this name. My family vos friends vith vone of Durmstrang's former Headmasters - Igor Karkarov ((Karkaroff))? I believe he mentioned somevone by the name of Rosier," Sevastyan stated. He didn't ask why her last name was DeLanquar instead of Rosier: it was clear that DeLanquar was her married name.

An eyebrow rose at Eglantine's statement, expecting anything but bitterness. "The vay I see it, vizarding- and muggle-kind are both prone to folly. Look at the sheer amount of vars Muggles have declared. And the Dark Arts! Who knew, all those centuries ago, that some of those magics vould be used for the wrong reasons ven in the wrong hands?" he offered neutrally. Being raised in an all-wizard family meant he should have carried a lot more prejudice than he did, but he didn't. At least not now, anyway. In his point of view, if one was at fault, so was the other: the magic and muggle communities were almost symbiotic in a kind of standoffish way.

At the confession, Sevastyan was compelled to meet Eglantine's gaze, though she had closed her eyes. Not quite knowing what to say, he nodded his understanding and included a 'hmm' of sorts. "If it is not too much to ask. . . how did it happen?" he inquired, curious as to what the motivation was. There were only two possibilities he could think of. Well, three, but that last one seemed so far from the truth while sitting here with the Professor.

Sevastyan quickly glanced between the wand's engravings and the page. "Yes, yes: this is definitely the vord 'ash', vithout a d..." he replied animatedly before coming to a screeching halt. He'd been about to say 'without a doubt' but was rooted to the spot on the 'd'. Ash in the English language sounded nothing like 'зола'. "You speak Russki?!" he asked, the smile spreading on his face being one of pleasant surprise.

"My father had ties with prominent wizards in Russia. I hope you will ignore most of what is said about him." She smiled softly. Her father was a paradox unto himself. A man who had embraced the Dark Arts and let clung to the light. Sooner or later one would consume him, but for now he was equally possessed.

"I teach Muggle Studies. And as hard as I've tried to teach my students that wizards and muggles are only separate by culture and beliefs, they refuse to believe me. You are right. Both are flawed. I suppose we can be grateful for that." She had lived among muggles all her childhood and then later on for twelve years and yet she had always been different, always been a witch.

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. "How did it happen? I wish I could forget that. Every night I watch the same scene again and again. He threatened and attempted to kill my son. And I was overtaken by Cerise, Lord Voldemort's shards. She used me to cast Excessum Neci and he was reduced to ash."

She couldn't help but smile at his excitement. "Not very much. We lived in Russia for only six months. I learned bits and pieces from a boy who lived in the house next to ours. His name was Von. I remember him because he was so patient with me. He knew a bit of German and English but I could only speak Gaelic and a few German phrases."

"Not to vorry, Professor: that is vhere I differ from approximately half of my family. I do not distribute rumors, nor have I taken much interest in them. I hear names, places, and so forth, but everything else goes in vone ear and out the other, so to speak," he assured her. That wasn't the entire case most of the time, but the fact that he didn't judge by gossip was certainly honest.

"Sometimes students vill only hear vot they vant to hear. I've had some similar experience vith such youths; not just as a professor but vithin the family as vell. Though I have not lived among Muggles, I am open to such a suggestion... vonce again unlike some of my relatives," he stated. "Vos living near or vith Muggles a reqvirement for a time part of your training to teach the subject?" Sevastyan asked curiously.

Gray irises darkened as Eglantine told her tale, completely hating the thought of a child in danger. It was no wonder then that she destroyed the man, Cerise or no Cerise. Sevastyan would have likely done the same thing, without aid, had he been in Professor DeLanquar's shoes. "Protecting vone's child should alvays be top priority," Sevastyan returned, the conviction of his statement evident by a slightly harsher-sounding drawl, though he didn't say anything more. Did anything further really need to be stated? Was this brother a relation Viper would have preferred not to see? Or, even better yet: was there more to this than he was presently aware of?


"Ah," Sevastyan nodded in understanding, even if he didn't know this boy - likely a full-grown man now - named Von. "Russki is my mother tongue, then German, and finally English. I vould need a translation spell for anything else," he explained, the comment punctuated with a smile and a small laugh.

Taking a few moments to examine a promising series of runes - he'd recognized a letter 't' almost as clear as day - Sevastyan practically felt his eyes bounce back and forth between artifact and tome. "I believe this vone says 'tears' ... or is it 'terse'?" he pointed out to her the runes in question.

Eglantine nodded, not really concerned about his "gossiping". After all, most "rumors" about her father were true and if they were not true, they had elements of truth in them.

"I never actually trained to become the Muggle Studies professor. The job was open and I asked if I could assume it." She glanced over at the wall as he obviously disliked the idea of a child in danger. It was nice to hear that he did not blame her for killing Dracovan.

Eglantine nodded. She used a translation spell often enough to understand how useful it was.
"Terse makes little sense." she sighed, pointing her wand at the book. A simple magnification spell eased the difficultly.
"Tears." Eglantine murmured.

"You seem to be fond of children. Do you have any?" she asked, softly.

"Ah, I see," he replied, wondering if 'training' had been the right word. She had to have learned about Muggles somehow, Sevastyan deduced, but assumed he would find out sometime down the road of time. Not every little bit of information was necessary for him to hear, either.

An awkward moment of silence passed between them after Professor DeLanquar asked the question. "I am fond of children - they can be a joy to be around," he admitted, shifting slightly in his seat and clearly trying to concentrate on a tear in one of the pages of the tome between them. "But no, I do not have any of my own," he added, a little uncomfortably. The light olive skin of his cheeks colored slightly. "My... uh... my ex-fiancee did not vant children." Sevastyan swallowed mostly air with a bit of difficulty: this would be the first time in. . . he couldn't remember how long . . . since he'd even spoke directly of Roxane. He'd almost mentioned her in the Great Hall while conversing with Viper.

"Vot of you? You said you had a child - a son?" Sevastyan asked, changing the focus back to Professor DeLanquar.

Viper raced down the hall back to the entrance of the Defense office, swearing when she realized that Eglantine was still inside. Moaning Myrtle had decided to flood the bathrooms once again, therefore clogging the pipes and leaving Drakon stuck inside the plumbing over the offfice.

Biting her lip nervously, she leaned against the wall, hoping the conference would be through soon. Otherwise Drakon would be quite cross with her.

Eglantine immediately regretted asking her question, obviously his not having any children was a painful topic, probably bringing back memories of his ex-fiance and the fact that he was alone. How could she had been so insensitive? she wondered.
"I should not have asked that. Forgive me." she muttered. Looking up when he asked her about her son, she smiled faintly.

"Edwin. He is two years old. After the incident, I thought it best that he went to stay with my cousin in France. That and he is rather adventurous."

"Vot? Oh, no, it is fine," Sevastyan gently waved off the apology. "The topic vould have come up some time - as professors ve are practically surrounded by children. Naturally, if vone is fond of something, they usually have it: cards, qvills, horses . . . the same can be said of children."

"Ed-u-in," he repeated, doing his best not to butcher the name by saying 'v' instead of 'w'. It sounded very close. "It sounds like a strong name," Sevastyan offered by way of a compliment, and nodded his understanding as to why she sent him to stay with a relative.

"It seems to me he vould be a joy to have around, though perhaps a bit of a handful vot vith that adventurous spirit you mentioned," Sevastyan smiled the sentiment.

Eglantine nodded. "He is a joy to have around. It is sad though..." she caught herself before saying anything about her husband. The last thing she wanted was for him to figure out that there was no way she could have naturally had Edwin... and that there only was one way...

"Do you have any nieces or nephews?"

Sevastyan nodded. "It is sad, indeed, for him to be so far avay at this time," he agreed, though had no idea that this was not what Eglantine had been referring to. How could he have known? Besides, it seemed logical enough...

At the next question posed, Sevastyan smiled in a kind of bittersweet manner. "I'm afraid I do not. My sister is tventy-two and eligible, but she has not yet found a man she likes enough to marry. As for my brother . . . vell . . . you could say he is married to his profession, in a vay," he answered. She didn't really need to hear about how he and Grigoriy had had a falling out in their teens, and hadn't spoken a kind word to each other since.

"But I do have some second- and third-cousins; five of the latter being school age. The youngest is Nestor Kaminski, age eleven," Sevastyan added, and seemed proud to declare it.

Eglantine nodded. He sounded rather close to his cousins, no doubt they admired him.

"They attend Durmstrang?" she asked, glancing back down at the thick tome.

"Yes," he replied simply. "I provide practical summer education on prearranged days - mostly dueling - even though they do not need it. But, vot can I do? Their parents insist. I think it is my mother's vay of trying to give me a massive hint, vith plenty of help," Sevastyan elaborated further, a slight laugh on his lips. Praskovya Kaminski wanted nothing more than to see her children happily married, and as Sevastyan was the oldest he was obviously expected to be wed first. It had been a grave disappointment to the family when he and Roxane broke up.

"I daresay ve have most of this translated," he remarked, noticing Eglantine's focus shift to the translation book. It was interesting how they had gotten side-tracked by talk of children, but not unexpected. With only a slight reluctance, Sevastyan eased himself back into assisting Professor DeLanquar with the rune translation...

Eglantine nodded. "I tutored my nephews and niece as well. Severus even finished in animagi training. Did they enjoy dueling?"

She conjured a parchment and began to try to make sense of the translated runes with a charmed quill. Of course the floating paper and quill was easily read by both occupants of the room.

Sevastyan responded with a nod to both counts and a laugh exclusively to the second. "They love dueling. Vith each other, in teams, or even against me. . . most of them look forward to it as a vay to have fun. Boris - the eldest - sees things qvite differently, unfortunately. For the safety of the rest, I vill only allow him to duel me," he explained.

Sevastyan remembered the day when Alyona had been injured by her cousin Boris, who was only two years her senior, on his watch. When he tried to figure out what had happened, Boris had plain out told Sevastyan that he, 'didn't play nice' and refused to lower himself to their levels of mastery. So, to keep Boris from turning his siblings and younger cousins into metaphorical mincemeat, Sevastyan made sure Boris was taught separate from everyone else. From personal experience, Sevastyan could say that Boris was likely the most ferocious and tenacious dueler of the five. The most likely to embrace the Dark Arts without fear of repercussion, Sevastyan mused darkly.

"So, ve have: Excessum, bone, eternity, either bond or bound, ash, and tears," he read off the entire list with the hopes to find some connection in the process. No such luck, so he went on to attempt deciphering the last few portions of runes. Because they had translated a majority of the rest of the text, Sevastyan was able to apply most of the letters without much mental strain at all.

something... o ... something ... i ... e, r

Brows furrowed by confusion gave the wand perhaps the funniest darned look Sevastyan had ever made since stepping foot into the castle. It was clearly one of those, 'what in the hell?!' sort of looks that, at the right time, would be hilarious. After a moment's search through the rune translation, Sevastyan deduced the first "something" was in fact an 'R'.

Ro ... something... ier

Was that offending symbol an 's'? No, no, couldn't be. It would be all too easy for it to have spelled out 'Rosier'. But then again, the wand had been formed by a Rosier, hadn't it? That was certainly one way to make certain someone didn't try to pass a stolen wand off as theirs: etching one's name into it in runes...

"I'm not finished vith this last bit," Sevastyan began, wondering to himself how his hypothetical translation would sound to Professor DeLanquar, "But I daresay these last few runes translate into something like 'The Heir of Rosier.'"

Eglantine listed the translated words and began to try to make some sense of them.
Excessum, bone, eternity, either bond or bound, ash, and tears... Obviously Excessum formed a bond that if not broken...well it could not be broken... that lasted for eternity. It combined with Neci in a spell form reduced its victim to ash and the wand core was made of ash. Tears and bone... Eglantine sighed. She had added both ingredients to the elixir, but wondered if it could be so simple. Doubtless, being turned to ash would cause tears, she thought, perturbed by her rather dark sense of humour. Bone... maybe tear was tears and in tears bone apart.

This was getting her nowhere. She was snapped out of her thoughts, by Sevatyan's translation of the final runes. "The Heir of Rosier". Had she not already been seated, she would have collapsed.
"So the wand has claimed me as its master." she whispered, dread, fear and bitterness mixing into a potent mixture in her voice. "And the prophecy is fulfilled."