The Dark Lord’s Daughter
Part the Fifth
There was a knock on the compartment door about two hours before they were set to arrive at Hogwarts. Harry was sitting by the window with Magnolia’s head in his lap, her body stretching out against the bench as she dozed in her Hogwarts uniform.
Draco immediately looked up but Harry put his finger to his lips to signal that everyone should be quiet. Lacerta’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. It was Theo who got up and slid the door open quietly. He turned to the rest of the compartment and mouthed, “Violet.”
Harry made a sign that he should get rid of her. He had no desire to see his sister. They hadn’t even exchanged a single owl over Winter hols.
Theo turned back toward the door and began to whisper, which seemed to spark a conversation. After several hushed minutes, Violet shoved something at him and he turned around toward Harry to show him the Society Section of Witch Weekly. Harry squinted but couldn’t quite make it out.
Draco got up and looked at it before handing it over.
A large photograph of Magnolia and Harry in The Wicked Stepmother was printed along with rumors of their engagement. Magnolia was listed as being the daughter of a wealthy politician and a socialite, which was one way of putting it, while Harry was referenced as the love child between Auror James Potter and pureblood heiress Lady Maia Gaunt. Well, that technically wasn’t untrue either.
Harry shrugged at Draco and handed it back.
There was further discussion at the door before Violet firmly called out, “Harry.”
Magnolia shifted in her sleep.
“Do you mind?” Draco whispered. “My cousin is sleeping.”
Violet looked unimpressed.
Harry sparked green sparks from his fingertips and Theo looked over at him. Coming over, he leaned down so Harry could whisper in his ear, “Tell her I’ll find her later.”
Theo looked at him carefully.
“I have to get rid of her somehow.”
That seemed to at least placate her because she left relatively quietly. Harry continued to sit by the window with Magnolia’s head in his lap, watching the scenery go by. It wasn’t until half an hour before the train was set to come into the station, that Magnolia awoke, adorably sleep-riddled and utterly kissable, not that he’d ever think of ever doing such a thing.
Harry brushed his fingers against her cheek and murmured he’d be back soon before sweeping out of the compartment, Draco hot on his heels.
“I don’t need an escort,” he growled.
“No, but if Potter’s about, you’ll need someone to catch your back.”
Harry grunted. It was only the truth.
Violet was in a compartment with other Gryffindors, all in their Gryffindor uninform and playing exploding snap. Most of them also had ginger hair, Violet being the only strawberry blonde.
“You know the Weasleys,” Violet introduced—and Harry didn’t. “And Granger.” That seemed to be the girl with the bushy hair and big front teeth. “What’s this all about?” She flashed the article at him once again.
“Exactly what it says. Magnolia and I are engaged to be married—”
“Mum would never allow you—”
“Lily is not my mum,” he told her succinctly. “I thought that was obvious.”
Violet blinked at him. “I thought that was Jonathan just being Jonathan.”
“No,” Harry told her carefully. “Lily’s not my mum. It’s why I can’t call her ‘mum.’ Surely you thought it was strange.”
“I thought you were being strange.”
He crossed his arms and snorted. What child would call his mother ‘Lily’? He took a deep breath. “Now that we’ve established we’re half-siblings—”
“Dad can’t agree to this,” she argued.
“Dad completely agrees. I was invited over for winter hols, Dad came over one night, it’s all settled.”
Violet just stared at him. “But she’s in Slytherin.”
“Right, Potter,” Draco interjected, leaning forward and snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Harrogate is in Slytherin. His mother was in Slytherin. The entire family is in Slytherin. The only one not in Slytherin is James Potter.”
She blinked. “Look—Malfoy, this is between me and my brother.”
“I’m your brother’s cousin,” he told her firmly. “This is a family matter.”
“You’re a Malfoy?” Violet asked in horror.
“I’m a Gaunt,” he corrected. “The Gaunts married into the Malfoys.”
Her nose scrunched up, and she sighed. “This is only going to make you more of a target.”
“If you’ve noticed, Potter,” Draco told her, “that’s stopped and will continue to stop unless you want to be on the wrong end of a wand, like your older brother.”
“Is that a threat?” she demanded, pushing her strawberry blonde hair behind her shoulder. It was strange how she looked an almost exact copy of Lily, just with strawberry blonde hair and darker green eyes.
“It’s a promise,” he said instead, leaning forward dangerously.
Sensing the tension, Harry asked, “Was there anything else?”
Violet removed her eyes carefully from Draco and looked over at Harry. “No. Nothing. I guess you’re just as bad as Jonathan always said.”
The jab didn’t hurt like Harry knew it was supposed to. “Yes, I guess I am,” he agreed, leaving her in the hallway. He heard Draco knock shoulders with her, but didn’t turn around to look, instead going back to the Slytherin section of the train.
“Magnolia’s not going to be happy,” Draco muttered as they changed cars as they walked down the train.
“Do we really have to tell her?” Harry wondered.
“Do you really want to be there when she finds out later?” Draco questioned, his voice betraying exactly what he thought.
“No, you’re right,” Harry agreed. He had noticed Magnolia was a little controlling. This was just further proof of that.
They came back to the compartment, and Magnolia immediately looked up although she didn’t ask where they’d been. “Violet,” Harry explained, “didn’t seem to know that I wasn’t a halfblood,” he told her carefully. “She thought Jonathan was whinging.”
She snorted. “It’s obvious just by looking at you.” She looked him up and down before brushing his fringe out of his eyes, “though your Gaunt blood is a little more difficult to detect.”
“We’ll have to put the word out about her,” Draco warned. “Third year I think she sent a stinging hex your way, Harrogate. Rowle has her in his sights as well.”
Harry gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m faster than her wand.”
“I don’t know why Auror Potter allows it,” Magnolia complained. “You’re clearly the favored son.”
“Over-compensating,” Draco told her. “He favors Harrogate so he over-compensates with his other spawn making the scales unbalanced in Harrogate’s disfavor.”
“It is an interesting way to live,” Harry agreed. “Jonathan and Violet can do no wrong as far as Lily is concerned.—And then every Christmas we go and see Aunt Petunia.”
Magnolia looked over at him. “Who is that?”
“Lily’s Muggle sister—with her Muggle husband and Muggle son.” He shivered. “They’re horrible people.”
“Imagine being related to Muggles,” Theodore mused, clearly disliking the thought. “I can imagine nothing worse.”
“There was this girl—I’d hardly call her a witch—in the Gryffindor compartment with front teeth the size of beaver teeth. What was her name, Harrogate?”
“She wasn’t a Weasley—” Harry remembered. “Grange?”
“Grange,” Draco agreed. “Teeth like that must be Muggle.”
Harry breathed out through his nose and looked over at Magnolia who had wrapped her hands around his upper arm. “—At least Violet is a wizarding name,” she commented.
“Only because the Evans sisters have flower names,” he told her. “Lily, Petunia, Violet. Grandma Evans is named Rose.” He shrugged. “Jonathan has a Muggle name.”
“I have a flower name,” she noticed with a smile, and he grimaced at her, hoping it looked like a smile.
“So you do,” he agreed, leaning forward and noticing how similar their eyes were again. “Do you think Mother keeps magnolias in the garden?”
“I know she does,” Magnolia informed him. “Mama said Cousin Maia planted them in honor of my fifth birthday. I asked over Winter holidays.”
They smiled at each other, Harry more specifically at the thought of his mother, and only separated when Lacerta threw a pillow at them. Magnolia picked it up and threw it right back. Harry laughed and caught it when it was relaunched toward them and charged Lacerta who squealed and got up and ran out of the compartment.
“I won, I think,” Harry commented, dropping the pillow.
“Lacerta,” Magnolia told him, “has a list of eligible bachelors. She should get used to such behavior.”
“By Mother Magic, who’s on this list?”
“Your brother,” Draco spat. “I keep confiscating the list and scratching his name off the top spot. Honestly, only Dumbledore has an accounting of what happened that night and he wasn’t even there. James Potter won’t speak about it and the Dark Lord has never spoken of it. Potter’s scar could be a scratch from falling out of his crib!”
“Do you think?” Harry asked as he retook his seat beside Magnolia. “It would suffer the fool right with his big head and pompous attitude. The only reason why there aren’t little Potters running around is because he curses the women’s wombs who he’s with.—even the Muggles.”
Magnolia looked up with shock and the rest of the compartment went silent.
“What?” he asked. “I thought it was common knowledge.”
“No,” Theo told him. “I don’t think it is, at least not in Slytherin. He’s never touched one of our witches.”
“He can’t,” Draco drawled. “Our women are protected.” He held up his naked left hand to make a point about vined rings.
Magnolia looked down at her own left hand and let it curl in upon itself. Harry immediately took it and intertwined their fingers before lifting their hands and resting the back of hers against his cheek. That seemed like something a boyfriend might do.
“There are advantages to being purebloods,” Harry agreed quietly. He turned and smiled at Magnolia.
“You have to wonder at the magic of it,” Magnolia suggested. “I would love to study the spells behind the charming. Why six generation purebloods? Why not five? Seven?”
“Why indeed?” Draco mused. “Just so we know, for the record, who is Potter’s current girlfriend?”
“He’s close to the Weasleys,” Harry said, thinking. “They have a sister. She may be too young.” He shrugged. “She may not.”
“The Weaslette is my year,” Magnolia gasped. “She is not our age!”
“Well, then,” Draco told his cousin, “all the better to disrupt it.”
She paled slightly but only clung more closely to Harry. He realized what a bad idea it was taking her hand.
The train eventually came into the station and Harry escorted Magnolia onto the platform and to the horseless carriages. Lacerta had disappeared, most likely to some of her other friends, so he, Magnolia, Draco, and Theo took a carriage up together. Harry saw Jonathan up ahead, looking paler than he had been before they went on holiday, but it only served him right.
Harry noticed that more eyes were on him, and not just Magnolia, then before he left, and he supposed it was the article in Witch Weekly. He escorted Magnolia to the Slytherin table and enjoyed the feast.
He wasn’t expecting Snape to call him into his office.
“This came for you,” Snape told him and handed him a box.
Harry took it and opened it, looking inside to see a quill. He reached in the box and found instructions and pulled them out to see that it was a dictation quill. He smiled. “Thank you, Professor. I had this on order and didn’t know how long it would take to get here.”
“Are you taking dictation in class? Can’t be bothered to write?” Snape drawled.
“No, professor,” he promised, putting the box back together. “It’s for someone else.”
“It is a costly gift,” he warned. “I should not be gifting such things without your fiancée’s knowledge.”
“Magnolia knows,” Harry told him. “It’s for a relative. You know we’re related, Magnolia and I.”
“Yes, the two Gaunt lines. Lord Marvolo, as we shall call him, has explained to me his great desire to join the two Gaunt lines again. He is very effusive on the subject when he chooses to be.” He set his black gaze on Harry. His eyes almost reminded Harry of someone else. “You have a great deal of expectations on your young shoulders. While your brother Jonathan will carry on the Potter name and all that entails, though being a half-blood, you will be the head of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families.”
“I think Magnolia and I will be co-Heads,” Harry argued, looking down at his Gaunt heir ring. “I cannot imagine not being partners.”
“That may indeed be so,” Snape agreed. “Magnolia is a force to be reckoned with.—Try not to kill Potter in your effusiveness in becoming Sacred Twenty-Eight. I would hate to have to put Lily back together again if she lost her eldest child.”
“I hope you aren’t suggesting your Slytherins would actively murder someone.”
“Not actively,” he drawled. “Now off with you.”
Harry left quickly. He only stopped in the Common Room to tell Magnolia what he was doing before he went to go write a letter to his mother, to send off with the dictation quill. He sent it off well before midnight and knew his mother would get it by morning, Yorkshire only being a few counties south of Hogwarts.
It seemed to take days for his mother to answer and Harry was going stir crazy. Everyone in the dungeon was aware of his mood, though not the reason behind it. Finally, one of the sixth years, a Yul Rowle, dragged him off down a corridor during a free period.
“Do you have that invisibility cloak everyone thinks you might have?” Rowle asked.
Harry stared at him.
“Potter has a big mouth,” he explained.
Harry took it out and put it on. A moment later and Rowle disillusioned himself.
They walked down the corridor, turned a corner, and then ended up just two corridors down from the library.
“He doesn’t even know that I exist,” the bushy haired witch—Grange, Harry thought—complained, clutching her books to her chest. “He just—he wants Ginny.”
Violet, Harry’s sister, shrugged. Her strawberry blonde hair was let loose around her shoulders, in a way that only half-blood or Muggleborn witches let down their hair, and she was biting her lip. “What can I say?” she shrugged. “I mean, my brother wants what my brother wants! Look at Harry! He’s engaged to his cousin. It defies reason!”
“Ginny Weasley is not your cousin!”
“But she looks like she could be,” Violet argued. “My brothers want witches that look like their mirrors. It’s beyond bizarre. It’s their type. You don’t stand a chance, Hermione.—Plus, you’re bookish. Jonathan gets bored in class.”
Hmm. Hermione was a wizarding name although this Hermione—Grange, was it?—was clearly a Muggleborn, halfblood at best.
Hermione’s lip quivered. “There must be a way—”
“You’d have more of a chance with Harry. He likes books. But then again, he likes purebloods and you’re a Muggleborn.” She sighed and reached out to grasp Hermione’s shoulder. “You’re out of luck. Just give it up as lost.”
Harry could hear the sound of movement beside him, a whispered word, and then Violet flinched and jolted backwards.
“Fuck!” she screamed, reaching for her shoulder and rubbing it. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Hermione asked, looking at her in confusion.
“I swear I was just shocked with electricity. It was like—”
Another whispered word beside Harry and then Violet flinched on her other side and screamed. “Frick!”
Harry was a little constricted by his cloak, but he lifted his wand up slightly under his cloak and whispered, “Aculeo!” and hit Violet in the forehead. She sprung backwards with a look of pain on her face.
Hermione was reaching forward but Violet was just crawling backward away from her.
Rowle threw Granger into the wall and out of the way, advancing on Violet, the sound of his shoes muffled on the floor.
Stinging hex after stinging hex was flung at Violet until her clothes were torn with tiny holes throughout her arms and legs, her tie cut and hanging at an odd angle, until Harry hit her just below the eye and her nose started to bleed. Her green eyes were wide with fear as she brought her hands up to protect her head and Harry reached out and grabbed Rowle’s arm to halt him just as he was about to send another stinging hex her way.
Part of him couldn’t believe he was actually attacking his little sister this way, but something about Rowle’s magic insighted him.
Hermione was crouching over Ginny, hushing her, her hands hovering over the hurts but not helping at all.
Harry leaned over. “We drew first blood. She’s a girl,” he whispered.
“But not a lady,” Rowle’s low voice answered.
Harry paused and looked over at his younger sister who had terror in her eyes. He let go of Rowle’s sleeve and turned, letting his cloak make a swishing noise before he let his footsteps echo on the stones as he walked away. He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see the fear in Violet’s eyes.
He was in the common room when Rowle entered half an hour later.
Their eyes connected, ocean blue to dark brown, and Rowle nodded to him. Harry breathed out and then looked down at Magnolia who was sitting in the chair he was perching against. Her chestnut hair was up in an elaborate set of braids and he carefully ran his fingers against them, trying to ground himself in any way possible.
She looked up with her deep blue eyes and smiled at him before returning to her book.
It was all over Slytherin at dinner. Violet Potter had been attacked and was in the Hospital Wing. All over a nosebleed?
Harry glanced up the table and caught Rowle’s eye and arched an eyebrow at him, but he only shrugged his shoulders.
James and Lily Potter were called, and Harry and Jonathan were asked to join them after dinner. Jonathan had another black eye. This time it was his left and it seemed a little more purple.
Harry looked at Violet and noticed that the only thing wrong with her was that she had tissue stuffed up one of her nostrils. It was a nosebleed from a stinging hex. It barely warranted a hospital visit. What were they doing here?
Lily was fussing over Violet and James was sitting sullenly in a chair beside her bed.
“Why are we here?” Harry asked his dad. “Everyone in Slytherin said she had a nosebleed.”
“And they should know,” Lily answered scathingly. “They’re the ones who did this to her.”
“No one cared when I was in Hospital Wing with a concussion last year,” Harry argued back, glancing around to see if they were alone. His dark blue eyes connected with Lily’s green ones and all he could see was loathing. Typical.
James looked over his shoulder at his wife and made a motion toward her, probably telling her to let him deal with it, when the Hospital doors opened and Magnolia walked through. What was she doing here?
She was the epitome of pureblood elegance with her pale skin, ocean blue eyes, and chestnut hair twisted on top of her head. Seeing Harry, she came over and took his arm. “I’m here,” she announced. “I understand there’s a family conference.”
Lily’s eyes flashed up from her daughter’s bedside. “Who do you think you are, you little—”
“This is Lady Magnolia—” James explained, turning back toward the bed, “Harry’s intended. Under pureblood customs, she has every right to be here.”
“We are not a pureblood family,” Lily argued back.
Jonathan was looking between his parents warily.
Violet was watching Harry and Magnolia like they were a ticking timebomb.
“I am a pureblood, Lily. Harry is a pureblood. He is engaged to a pureblood. You are going to have to make allowances.” His hazel eyes flashed at her. Lily opened her mouth to speak, but James spat, “You agreed that I would raise Harry the way his mother would have wanted as you did not want to raise him as your own. This is how his mother would have wanted.” He beckoned Harry and Magnolia over to the bed.
“Now,” he began. “I know, Harry, you have always been bullied by Gryffindors.”
Magnolia rubbed her hand up and down Harry’s arm, making him feel slightly embarrassed. He knew she was probably rolling her eyes at the understatement.
“Now, it seems like the Slytherins and Ravenclaws have started a vendetta against Jonathan this year. To Lily’s displeasure, I told him to man up. It’s his final year after all, and if he can’t take it, he should never have dished it out. It seems to have now spilled out to your sister.”
They all turned to Violet who was pressing a bloody tissue against her nose.
“Do you know anything about it?” James asked. “I know what happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin, but this is your sister.”
Harry continued to look at Violet and what he had helped do, but his jaw remained clamped shut through his guilt.
“Perhaps,” Magnolia said carefully, “she shouldn’t have bullied the Slytherin first and second years with stinging hexes. Certain persons with younger siblings aren’t happy.”
Harry’s head snapped toward her and she raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him. It seemed like Rowle had a younger sibling who was a first or second year. He knew that Draco, who probably gave the order, had a little sister who was starting next year.
“Why would you do that?” Harry asked Violet. “They’re children!”
“They’re Slytherins,” she spat back.
“He wanted to continue,” he practically yelled at her. “I stopped him from doing worse!”
Magnolia rubbed his arm soothingly. For once Harry didn’t notice.
“You mean you were there and you let it happen?” Lily accused.
“He happened upon it and stopped it,” Magnolia interjected, lying. “You’re lucky Harrogate came upon them.”
“I want a name!” Lily demanded, this time looking directly at James.
“What happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin,” Harry quoted tiredly. “I’m not going to get anyone in trouble for protecting a little brother or sister.”
“You need to protect your little sister,” Lily told him flat out, now turning her green gaze to him.
“Didn’t you hear?” Harry asked her with slight amusement in his voice. “According to Jonathan and now Violet, I’m Slytherin slime. I’m not worthy of the name ‘Potter’.”
“Jonathan! Violet!” James reprimanded. “How could you spew such hatred toward Harry?”
Jonathan and Violet just shared a look, but didn’t answer.
“We will be Gaunts anyway in a matter of a few short years,” Magnolia soothed. She looked up to Harry who looked the few short inches down toward her. “We will revitalize our House.”
Lily was looking at them in confusion. She looked over at James for an answer, but he made a motion that obviously meant, “later.”
“So this will go unpunished?” Lily asked the room at large.
“You should ask your daughter not to hex first years,” Harry suggested. “First years may not be able to fight back, but older students clearly can.—Why all this hatred for Slytherin House? I know why there is hatred for me, but your closest friend, Lily, is the Head of Slytherin House. We grew up with Severus Snape.”
James clenched his jaw. There was no love lost between James Potter and Severus Snape, and everyone knew it. Severus, Harry guessed, was Lily’s revenge for Maia Gaunt.
“Slytherin,” Lily seethed, her voice low, “stole everything—” Her green eyes flashed like the killing curse, alight in the small room.
Harry looked at her confusion and turned to his dad before he realized it. “Oh, you mean Mother. Mother was a Slytherin—so you hate us.” He took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t perpetuate such prejudice just because of your self-hatred, Lily.”
“Why you little,” she hissed, surging toward him, only for James to grab her and hold her back.
Harry jumped backward with Magnolia, grabbing for his wand and brandishing it in front of them in self-defense. He stood there in his pose for several long breaths as he watched his dad and stepmother until everything seemed to calm down.
“If there’s nothing else?” Harry asked the room at large.
James looked at his son imploringly, “If you could use your influence in Slytherin—”
“Like they used their influence in Gryffindor?” he asked incredulously. Pushing his wand up his sleeve, Harry turned to Magnolia and checked that she was all right. Her wand was in her hand and she was holding it tensely by her side. “Shall we go?”
She nodded and with one look back at his family, they left.
When they got back to the Slytherin Common Room, Harry found Rowle and asked to be introduced to his little brother or sister. Rowle looked him for a long moment before he nodded and led him to a table with a group of first years. “Thilo,” he called and a small boy stood up and came up to them. He had dark hair and dark eyes and was clearly fearful. Harry leaned down and held out his hand. “I’m Harrogate Gaunt Potter,” he greeted. “I understand you survived a run in with my no good sister.”
He squeaked.
After extracting a promise from Thilo that Harry be immediately informed if Violet ever reared her ugly head again, Harry went and found Magnolia in her usual chair. Hedwig flew in close to bedtime with a letter with blue ink and unfamiliar handwriting. When he opened it and looked at the magical signature, he saw it was from his mother—and he smiled.
