The entire hallway lit up in emerald green as flames roared from the fireplace. Hugh stepped out, making sure his head would not hit anything unexpected. Who knew what the room on the other side could look like. Yet, against his expectations, he was met with a large and open entrance hall. Heavy oaken pillars spiralled upwards like trees and faded into a leaf-like pattern which spread out across the ceiling. Hexagonal tiles cut from a dark green basalt flickered in the lingering fire behind Hugh, which cast his even larger silhouette around the room. He turned around to the sound of his guide's arrival, but was met with an unexpected gruesome sight. The entire hearth was carved to look like a giant's face with a wide open mouth. Its alabaster stone made it look like it had been slain there and 'hung up' for presentation. In front of it, stood the Lowe family's valet. Which Hugh had never known to be a thing, up until they met earlier in Hogsmeade.

"Master Lowe is likely awaiting your arrival in the dining room, young sir" Forsythe informed the half-giant whilst dusting off his coat. Hugh could only describe the butler as a seemingly average man, but there was something in the man's mannerisms that called for cautiousness. He felt deliberate in the way he spoke and could move around you without a sound, showing up unexpected if you didn't pay attention. Yet without that, the man's entire appearance made him look he was an accountant at day and a full-time dad at night. But after asking earlier, he had informed Hugh he was neither.

The half-giant briefly thanked the valet and headed out in the direction he was pointed at. Hugh wondered where the giant staircase dominating the room led to, but was told to enter the passage to its left side. He passed by portraits and busts, each of them looking grim and sour. As if they were judging him walking these halls. With each step he took, the feeling he did not belong there grew and grew. It honestly was not that different from Hogwarts or the outside world. The difference being that this was personal. His father had never spoken a word to him that he could remember. There were flashes of memories Hugh vaguely understood to be of him, but his mind had mostly turned him into uncle Orson throughout the years. As if it was trying to erase his father from the equation that was Hugh. Now he was bound to see both his father and his grandparents in one go.

Hugh stopped at the door frame as he heard the clatter of tableware and two voices arguing. One of the two seemed to be getting dismissed, and their conversation ended with the loud bang of a door. Hugh's breathing grew heavy as he seemed to wait for something to happen, the silence grew and grew until he heard an elderly voice call out. "Well, are you just going to stand in the hall all night, then? I can assure you it is warmer in here." Hugh scrunched up his nose in frustration. He hated it when people got the drop on him. Slowly, he stepped forward and let his full silhouette appear in the doorway. His eyes quickly settled on a lanky old man, dressed in a red and gold night robe, sitting at the far end of a long table in the midst of his dinner.

"I could hear your heavy stride the moment you started walking down the hall, boy." The elder clarified. Proceeding to take a scoop from his soup. He carefully swallowed and let his eyes inspect Hugh from a distance. There was a silent stand-off between the two of them. He had Hugh's dark piercing eyes, and a similarly large pointy nose. But the old man's sharp cheekbones were what made his whole face stern looking. Hugh would have believed anyone claiming it had been carved out of stone if he didn't see it move while he was eating. "Well..." He repeated in the same questioning tone as before. "Are you not going to come closer? But do sit down, boy. And spare my old neck from having to look up for this conversation."

Without saying a word, Hugh took a seat at his grandfather's side. As his back faced the crackling fire, it cast an enormous shadow of him against the opposite wall and next to him, the distinct profile of the old man and his sharp features. A lights show of puppets began to play as his grandfather continued. "You won't be meeting your father tonight." He announced abruptly. "So you can stop wondering about that first of all. I wanted to speak with you before anyone else in this household got to you, save Forsythe, perhaps." His deep green eyes were fiercely latched onto Hugh's gaze, demanding they both look at one another as he spoke.

"I am your grandsire, Havelock Lowe, which I sincerely hope you had figured out by now. You did? Good. Now listen closely, boy." He cleared his throat after taking a sip of wine. "I ordered your father to summon you here. Yes, it was on my behalf. My son has proven to be a lifelong disappointment to me, and has thus left me with a single grandchild in line to inherit my name and the land attached to it." Havelock gave Hugh a questioning look to see if the boy was still following along. Which he was, as he had suspected many of what was said already. There seemed to be a silent understanding between the elder and the younger Lowe. "That grandchild, being you, has of course a... complicated origin story." He slowed down, both inspecting Hugh's every reaction to each word he said and taking the time to formulate everything correctly.

"You know I can not stand your giant's blood tainting my family's legacy, so let's not pretend. But... it was ultimately a treachery committed by your father. Given that I need an heir, preferably of my own blood, and you could use some protection under our family name... I have reconsidered your chances." Hugh looked at his grandfather in surprise, was this really going where he thought this was? The old man was considering stepping on tradition and allowing a part-giant to step in as his next heir? "Slow down, boy." Havelock snapped. "I see your twinkling eyes are not short of ambition. But that's good, yes, you'll need it. However, I am not giving any of this lightly. No, I expect you to be trained. By both me and my staff, that is. There are many expectations that come with this heavy responsibility." He straightened his back against his chair and waited for Hugh to finally say a word.

"I... I believe I understand." Hugh finally replied. "Though, I have demands of my own." Havelock scoffed and slapped the table.

"Just got here and already talking demands. Good, leave the nonsensical emotional stuff out of it all, yes? What is it you want, then?" He watched Hugh straighten his own back and smirked.

"I wish to keep studying at Hogwarts for now, and I will need funding for my extracurricular activities." Hugh met with Havelock's intense stare and watched him flash his own smirk.

"We're not a daycare, of course you'll go to Hogwarts. But you'll be picked up by Forsythe to spend all of your holidays over here. Funding can be arranged, but do not expect me to pay for your personal agenda without me knowing. You'd be a half-breed with powerful backing, I won't stand for another treachery in this family." He addressed the issue sharply, and both him and Hugh nodded in agreement. For their many differences, both understood that they inexplicably liked one another. It felt too uncomfortable to acknowledge, but was there nonetheless. Dangling like a ghost between both their large pointy noses.

"I took the liberty to assign Forsythe as your personal valet while you are here or travelling under my seal." Snapping his fingers made Forsythe appear from the door behind him. "Escort my grandson to his chambers, Forsythe. You'll be given a proper tour in the morning. If you have a wish for some more food before bed, Forsythe can have someone come up with a little soup and bread." With that, Havelock raised himself out of his seat and waited for Hugh to do the same. His grandfather was lanky and tall in his own right. But of course nothing compared to Hugh's own height. They both shook hands before Forsythe motioned for Hugh to come along. He led Hugh down a labyrinth of hallways and stairs until they stopped in a room at the top floor of what seemed to be the northern tower.

"As you'll see, the staff has decorated the place to feel a bit more like your home at Hogwarts. Feeling hungry sir?" Forsythe asked the boy as he led him into a large room fully decorated in red and gold. There was an armour stand and various cupboards hoarded around a desk. The bed seemed to be enlarged in expectation of its new owner, the old oaken floorboards creaked as Hugh walked in.

"No, that'll be all, thank you sir." Hugh responded in kind, trying to be polite to a kind man.

"Forsythe's the name, sir." The valet corrected him. "And I shall wake you in the morning then. Good night, sir." With that the valet disappeared as quickly as he often appeared around you and Hugh was left alone in his room. Now came that awkward feeling of not knowing what to do next...

"Doth thee usually just wait for thy enemy to attack, then?" A voice creaked in the dark. Hugh looked around bewildered. Where did it come from? As far as he could see, the room had been empty. His eyes kept darting from one side to the other. "Now thou art just ignoring me! Cometh hither, knave!" This time Hugh saw it, the glimmering plates of steel and iron bolts coming to life as the armour stand charged forward. Quickly ducking out of the way, Hugh parried the attacked and had the tin-man trip over the carpet. As the armour crashed onto the floor, it split into a dozen parts, spread out across the room. Only its helmet kept clattering around, it's ellongated visor sliding open and shut as it shouted profanities at the room's new inhabitant.

"Alright alright! Will you just bloody shut up?" Hugh spat back at the empty void behind the helmet's visor.

"Thither is no needeth to shout like that, mine lad. We art all just playing games, aye? Aye?" The armoured glove next to the bed dropped the sword it was carrying earlier. Hugh noticed and sighed.

"Who are you then? Another assigned member of staff to keep tabs on me?"

"No, no! Not at all!" The armour answered as if it felt hurt by the very statement. "I am to beest thy 'dummy' as those gents putteth. A sparring partner! Thy grandfather must has't informed thee of thy training, aye? Well hither I am and eft to serveth, young master!" Hugh practically growled back at the helmet and snatched it from the floor. enraged by this surprise encounter, he tore open the window and threw the helm outside. He faintly heard a plea for mercy, but it had been too late. It wouldn't be long before the rest of the armour was lying next to it's 'head' down in the snow.

"Now, time for bed." Hugh smirked.