The chamber of codes was a place of quiet comfort. it was not always so, the artifacts held here were volatile, strange and disturbing unless handled with respect and care. Aslan had rarely had a problem. She, who could feel and see on a level deeper than most, was often busy with cursed books, bewitched treasures, holy relics and the like and so far had always managed to come home unscathed. She was not up to anything so dangerous today, instead she was only looking for a book. Leather-bound and written by someone who had died centuries ago, the Gryffindor hoped it would hold the answers to her latest conquest.

Leather black boots clicked and clacked, announcing the otherwise quiet witch’s presence as she searched for the tome. “It should be here somewhere.” she idly muttered to herself, tucking an errant strand of dark hair behind her bejeweled ear. Aslan had never owned much jewelry in her youth- she’d never owned much of anything, to be fair- and after seeing to Milo and Des, making sure they had everything they wanted or needed, she had finally allowed herself the pleasure of new earrings, a new necklace and a matching set of bracelets which shimmered in the candlelight illuminating the room. she was grown now. no longer a young girl floating along with the current, letting it take her as it pleased, but a woman who knew what she wanted and who she was. Careful. Clever and courageous and it showed in the set of her shoulders and even the confident sway of her hips.

aslan evans was no longer a changeling waiting for her real family, but a matriarch.