Clayton woke up and was full of excitement. Father's coming home, he thought excitedly. He put his jeans and t-shirt on before rushing down the stairs. He burst into the kitchen and saw his mom holding a letter with a tear rolling down her cheek. His wonderful morning turned sour as he saw a black owl belonging to his father's boss, Rudolphus.
"Oh, Clay, I'm so sorry, it's your father," his mother began sobbing violently. "The horntail that he was working with a dog began barking. It acted on instinct and attacked. He was gone before they knew what happened…."
Clay collapsed on the floor and a few tears gently trickled down his face. It sank in. His father would not retire this year. He would not see his son join the family legacy of working with dragons. He would not see his grandchildren. His father would not see him married, fall in love, break the record he himself set as chaser, and would never be there to see him again. Clay realized that he was not the only one going through this. He rose to his feet and joined his mother at the table. He grimaced as he took his mother's hand.
Two days later, Clayton was standing alongside his uncle, two cousins, and two men from his father's work. They hefted the casket bearing his father's body. After what was a few seconds but seemed like hours, he was at the door leading to the family crypt. His grandfather walked to the door and let his tears fall upon the dias. The gateway seemed to disappear from existence and the six carried the coffin and set his father inside his eternal resting place.
Clay and his mother returned to the Wesson family manner for the reading of the will. The room was somber and a painting of Clay's father came to life as they entered. The portrait grinned at Clayton who could not help but grin lightly back. The pain of loss was fleeing for a moment. It returned stronger than ever when his father began to speak, "Hello all, I trust that the pudding was magnificent as always. Anyhow, I guess I'm dead. I hope I went with some dignity, unlike Uncle Roderick over there-"
"Oi, watcher, boy! I may be a portrait, but I can jinx you like old times," Roderick hollered from across the room.
"Yes sir, Uncle! I'll make sure to do just that. Well, as we all know, Wesson family tradition holds that my own portrait shall read my will. I have it right here. Ah yes, I Arcturius Winthrop Wesson, do solemnly swear that I am deceased. These are my will and testaments. To my father, I leave my love and a pension of four thousand galleons, you know already what these are to be used for. To my beautiful wife, Stacy Jacquillen Wesson nee Clarke, I leave my home, my heart, this portrait, and half of my estate. To my son, Clayton Kelley Wesson, I leave my broom, my journal, my spell books, the other half of my estate remaining, a pocket portrait of me, and the key to my private office in the cellar and all of its contents, my ring, and my private vault when you turn eighteen. To my brother, Samuel Chase Wesson, I leave the remainder of my library and the family wand. I have left the remainder of you a task, simple enough, but important none the less. Keep my son safe and guide him in all that he does. That is all I do believe. I love you all. If you have any questions, my portrait shall always be here."
When Clayton and his mother returned home, she told him that she would be home in a few hours and she would be filing the paperwork for the estate. Clayton was given the key to his father's office by his uncle after the reading of the will. He went up the stairs in the country home and put the key in the door. As he did, a golden light burst from the keyhole around the key. Clay gave the door a light push, and it opened without a sound.
He walked in slowly and saw a picture of him and his father on the desk. It was matched by an old, weathered picture of his mother. He immediately felt a pang in his heart and continued into the room. He saw a bookshelf to the left and saw his father's dragon tooth necklace hanging upon the mirror. Clay heard a voice behind him say, "Hello, Clay."
He turned around and looked about curiously for the speaker until he saw his father smiling in a portrait. Clay was flooded with joy and said in a breaking voice, "D-dad?"
"As perceptive as ever, my son. It is me. I thought it would be cold to leave you without a way of talking to me. Look in the top drawer," the portrait said, pointing at the desk. Clay walked over and opened the drawer. He saw a key with the family crest engraved on both ends. He drew it from the desk. "That'd be the Wesson Key, son. It is enchanted to unlock anything. It is the only key that works on my safe. Go ahead, open it, my boy."
Clay went to the cast iron vault in the corner and put the key to the lock. He gave the door a tug, and it came straight open. He saw a soft, black leather backpack, and an assortment of other items, along with a small treasure trove of galleons. He looked to his father, who nodded his approval. Clayton pulled the backpack from the safe and saw his name on a small golden plaque. "Open it son. It has some of the things from my will. I had it custom made and fitted with anti detection charms, spells blocking it being summoned by any but you, extension charms, and a spell that prevents any but you from opening it. You're broom is in there, my journal, the portrait I told you about, my ring, and a few other odds and ends."
Clay opened it and saw nothing. "You only have to think of what you desire and it shall be in the bag," his father added. Clay thought, the ring. Suddenly, he saw the ring with the red stone appear in the bag. He put it on his hand, timidly. Suddenly, he heard a voice in his head, "Hello, Clay. It is me, your grandfather."
"What? Papaw, what is this?" Clay asked, shocked.
"Ahh, a Wesson family secret. These rings were made by Arcturius Wesson the first and his wife, Alessandria. They have the ability to be undetectable and to serve as a portkey for anywhere you wish to travel to. Whether it be your father's study, the manor, or even Hogwarts. No one knows of the connection and no one can tell you and I are speaking. All you must do is think of what you want to say, and I shall hear it," he heard his grandfather's voice say in his head.
Clay sat down at the desk and was flooded with all of the new knowledge and secrets. He fell asleep while reading one of his father's books on dragons.