magnolia08

The Dark Lord’s Daughter

Part the Eighth

Harry was bringing Magnolia home to Godric’s Hollow for his sixteenth birthday because his dad had written and had asked to throw him a dinner.  Harry had talked it over with Magnolia late one night when they were lying under the stars, but Magnolia thought she should see what his life was like. 

So, Lady Aloysia had sent them off in the morning in the automobile (because to call it a ‘car’ would be a crime) and they would return the next day. 

“We should find out if Jonathan made Auror training,” Harry mused as they sat back in the backseat of the automobile.  The usual driver was in the front, and Harry had learned he was a low level Death Eater named Phrixus Blishwicke.  “It’s practically August.”

“August is tomorrow,” Magnolia teased.  She ran her fingers through his lengthening black hair.  “Should we get you a haircut?”

Harry turned toward her.  “Do you think?”  Usually he just thought about it and his hair did what he wanted.

“There’s a barber in Knockturn Alley Draco uses,” she suggested.  “We can get you an appointment.  He’d push other patrons for a Gaunt.”  She whispered this last bit into his ear.

He laughed and pulled her closer to him.  “I think you like pulling on my hair.”

“I like pulling you closer,” she agreed.  “I imagine what else I can do with it.”  Her ocean blue eyes sparkled.  “I go to a hairstylist every summer and New Year’s to have my ends trimmed.”  She seemed a little shifty when she said this.

Harry looked at her.  “How long is your hair?”

“Would you like to know?” she questioned.

“Of course I want to know!” he demanded, as it seemed the right thing to say.  “Sometimes that’s all I think about.”

“It’s supposed to be all you think about,” she teased him.  “You’re not supposed to know.”  She sobered.  “Sometimes it’s annoying putting it up all day, every day.  I just want to pull it down and let it hang free in the wind—but there are always Death Eaters about.”

“Well, we can do that privately,” Harry suggested.  “If you escaped out your window at night, we can be in the back garden with Mother.  Her hair is always down.”

She smiled at him widely.  “That’s because she is at home and only family sees her!”

“I’m to be your husband,” Harry argued.

“Isn’t that just so?” she murmured, her lips mere inches away from his.  “We can’t do it tonight.  I’ll be among half-blood Potters.”

Harry pulled away and stared into her ocean blue eyes.  “I would never let Jonathan see you that way!”

“I should hope not,” she agreed.  “It’s going to be bad enough sharing a room with Violet.”

However, Magnolia was not sharing a room with Violet. 

James took their bags and led them both to Harry’s room where a second twin bed had been shoved under the eaves.  “Hermione is here,” James explained, turning to them.  “She’s in with Violet.  I know you’re engaged and you’re both wearing vined rings.  I hope you’re not insulted.”

Harry’s mouth hung open, but Magnolia was the one to answer for them,

“No, certainly not insulted, James.  Thank you for trusting in our honor.  This will do quite nicely.”

James visibly relaxed.  “On the desk is a hand mirror which you can prop up.  I hope you brought your own brush.”  He looked between them.  He then clapped Harry on the shoulder and left them to it.

Harry looked after him and then sat down on his bed.  “This is it,” he said, looking at his childhood room that he hadn’t seen in nearly a year.  Somehow it seemed smaller.  It was all in blues and grays, Ravenclaw colors to be honest, with a large poster of the Kenmare Kestrals. 

“It’s very impersonal,” Magnolia remarked.

“Yes,” he agreed.  “Theodore was my only friend.  I wrote Mother but I never received letters back until I bought her the dictation quill.”  He shrugged.  “I traveled with everything that was of value.”

“What a sad life,” Magnolia murmured.  “We will build such a better life for our children.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed.  “It’s strange to think I may not be back here except for my seventeenth birthday.”

“You’ll be in Yorkshire for your seventeenth birthday,” Magnolia corrected.  “You’ll be receiving a blessing from Cousin Maia.”

“Hmm,” Harry thought.

The two unpacked, the family photos coming out.  Harry had the drawing of his mother and then the group photograph, as well as a portrait of Magnolia that was taken when they had posed for their engagement photograph.  Magnolia had a photograph of her parents, which certainly highlighted what an unconventional couple they were, another of the Malfoys, and then one of Harry.

By then it was time to go down to dinner.

Violet was sent to get them.

Harry’s little sister was nearly sixteen herself.  Her long strawberry blonde hair was held in a long braid that fell down her back and she was wearing overalls.  Magnolia looked at her as if she were a strangely dressed house elf, which Harry supposed, to Magnolia, she was.

“Time’s up,” Violet warned, glancing between them.  “Dad says dinner’s served.”

Magnolia picked herself up from where she was reading a French fashion magazine on her bed and Harry offered her his arm.  He knew they made an imposing couple as they walked down the stairs, both tall, both with dark hair and ocean blue eyes, both dressed imperiously in pureblood black.

The family table was long and in the side dining room.  It normally sat five but two more chairs had been purloined from elsewhere in the house.  Harry pulled out his normal chair for Magnolia and then sat in the one beside her.  He noticed that both his siblings and Hermione were across the table from him.

James came in with a steaming dish of steak pie with Lily behind him with side dishes of corn and fried potatoes.  Cups were brought out and everyone was given table wine.  James sat down and so did Lily, who took in the table and then stared at Harry and Magnolia.

“What are you wearing?” she demanded.

“Lily, it’s Harry’s birthday,” James tried to placate.  “He can dress how he wants.”

Lily blinked her bottle green eyes at her husband and then turned back to Harry, taking him in.  She took a sip of her wine and then settled into herself.  “Happy Birthday, Harry,” she clearly forced herself to say. 

Harry looked down at his empty plate.

Magnolia reached under the table and took his hand in hers.  It felt uncomfortable and hot, as if it wasn’t right.—But this was the witch he was going to marry, he reminded himself.  He had sold himself for protection and access to his mother, and it was surely worth it.

James smiled at the table and began to cut into the pie. 

Harry looked up and noticed that Jonathan did look pale.  He was wearing a rugby shirt and was sitting next to an anxious looking Hermione.  “Did you make Auror training?” Harry asked conversationally.

“Why do you want to know, freak?” Jonathan shot back.

Lily smiled into her wine.

“Jonathan!” James chided.  “Be civil to your brother!”

“Why?” Jonathan asked.  “He got Slytherins to curse me every time I looked up.”

Magnolia leaned forward.  “I got Slytherins to curse you every time you looked up,” she assured him.  “Not Harrogate.  He had nothing to do with it.”

Jonathan snapped his neck toward her and Hermione sucked in her breath.  Lily dropped her glass and James stopped cutting the pie.  Violet didn’t seem at all surprised. 

Magnolia sat back and looked entirely comfortable with the situation.  “No one touches what’s mine,” she said by way of an explanation. 

Harry felt like an object once again.

“Why are you marrying Harry?” Violet asked as the entire table continued to stare at Magnolia.

Magnolia seemed impressed at the question.  “My grandmother was the Lady Merope Gaunt.”

Violet made a noise in the back of her throat. 

“Harry’s mother is my second cousin, Lady Maia Gaunt.”

Lily dropped her silverware this time.  “James!” she chided, but James wasn’t listening to her.

“I want,” Magnolia explained, “to purify the Gaunt line.  We’re Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

“James!” Lily tried again, looking at her husband.

“We’re going to take the Gaunt name,” Harry told his little sister.  “Uncle Marvolo has already given me the Gaunt ring,” (he held up his right hand where the gold ring was on his pinkie finger) “and Mother has assured me she will sign the waiver.”

“James!”  Lily slammed her hands down on the table.

“You didn’t want to raise him,” James told his wife plainly.  “We agreed I’d raise him the way his mother would want to raise him, which I did.  Gaunts marry other Gaunts.  There’s hardly any consanguinity.  It’s all on the up and up.”  He didn’t sound quite convinced, but he certainly said it forcefully enough.

“Her father is Lord Voldemort,” Jonathan helpfully put into the conversation, “or so they say.”

This had Lily staring at Magnolia.  She then turned to her husband, “James?” she asked.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” he told her unhelpfully.  “Now eat your steak pie.”

She certainly wasn’t happy with that.  Lily stared at him for several minutes before letting her gaze rest on Harry and Magnolia.  When it was time for cake, Lily didn’t even bother to sing.  James didn’t even bother to cut Lily a slice, which secretly pleased Harry.  Harry didn’t want to share his cake with her. 

The night before Harry had had coconut cake with his mother in her turret room, Aurora sleeping by the fire.  It was certainly preferable to this awkwardness.

“So how long have you been together?” Magnolia asked Hermione when they were all finishing up their cake.

“Two months now or thereabouts,” Hermione told her, blushing slightly.  “Not long.”

“Jonathan’s never had a girlfriend so long,” Violet put in, Jonathan reaching behind Hermione and swatting Violet on the back of the head.  “What?  It’s true.”

“Fancy being married to an Auror?” Harry asked her in all seriousness.  “There’s long hours.”

Hermione took in a steadying breath.  “I can take it.”

Harry looked at her carefully and wondered if, like Ginny Weasley, it was hero worship.  It easily could be, though she did seem to be genuinely solicitous toward Jonathan’s health.

They made an odd couple.  Jonathan was tall and had shaggy auburn hair and hazel eyes.  Hermione was of average height, bushy hair, and dark eyes.  Her buck teeth were something that Harry just couldn’t look away from.  He remembered there had been some half-thought out plan to fix her teeth, though surely someone would notice.

“But she’s only a fifth year,” Violet pointed out.  “Jonathan could lose interest.”

Harry regarded his brother.  Violet only spoke the truth.

“That’s no way to speak to your brother,” James stepped in, looking out over his family.  “You’ve got to give the relationship a shot to grow.”

“I notice you don’t have a boyfriend,” Harry teased her good-naturedly.  “Has no one caught your eye in Gryffindor?”

At this Violet blushed a deep crimson, and Harry wondered who had caught her eye.  He tried to remember Gryffindors his age but he never paid attention to any of them.  There was a Weasley, but beside that—

“Everyone’s getting together,” Magnolia mused.  “Draco and Genevieve—”

“I saw that coming a mile down the road,” Harry told her conversationally.  “Sixth years don’t hang around fifth years just for fun.”

“Zabini and the Weaslette—”

Jonathan dropped his fork rather loudly.

Magnolia obviously mentioned them to annoy him and rub salt in the wound.  “Didn’t you know?” she asked sweetly.  “She’s always hanging outside of the dungeons—”

“Why you little—”  Jonathan took out his wand and shot a stinging hex at her, causing Magnolia to whip and turn, falling off of her seat.

Harry was immediately out of his chair, picking up his plate and spinning it at his older brother’s head.  Jonathan didn’t quite dash out of the way quickly enough and it whirred at his throat and drew blood.  “Ah,” he cried before sending a cutting hex Harry’s way.

Harry ducked so the hex hit the wall behind him before tossing a fork at his shoulder.

“Accio wand!” James called before slamming down his fists at the table.  “That is enough!—Jonathan, you do not use offensive magic against your brother or his fiancé at the dining table, and Harry, wherever did you get the idea to throw cutlery?”

Magnolia accepted Harry’s hand and picked herself off the ground, no worse for wear. 

“Everything’s a weapon,” Harry answered, sitting back down at the table.  “Oh, Granger, it’s barely a scratch!” he protested when he saw her making a fuss over Jonathan’s neck.

“It’s a gash!” she protested, turning and looking at him viciously. 

He scoffed, turning and taking Magnolia’s hand.  His large blue eyes looked into hers in concern and she squeezed his fingers in return.  He may not like his engagement to Magnolia, but that didn’t mean that Jonathan got to fling hexes at her.  Quite the reverse.

Magnolia turned to Jonathan and Granger.  “Now that you’ve graduated, where are you living?” she asked sweetly, starting up the prying conversation again.

He pushed Granger to the side and lunged forward.  “Why you little—” he began but she just smiled at him.

“Perfectly valid question.  Do you have a flat?  You don’t have a vined ring.  You must have lady friends to entertain.”

Granger meeped and turned red.  Jonathan didn’t even look at her.  “I’m going to cut off your middle finger and show you—”

“Jonathan!” James bellowed, but Harry had already picked up his knife and flung it into the center of Jonathan’s windpipe. 

Jonathan gurgled and clutched his throat.

Lily screamed and Violet rushed to her brother’s side.  Granger looked baffled and James—James was grasping his wand and started muttering spells. 

Harry stood absolutely still.  He had just murdered his brother.  If it didn’t take it was attempted murder and he was going straight to Azkaban for it.  Then he was aware that Magnolia was tugging on his arm and sound rushed back to him.  He turned to Magnolia and she was whispering, “Run!” into his ear. 

They knocked over their chairs as they made their way out of the room and toward the back door.  Magnolia took out her wand to Harry’s confusion and sent out green and golden sparks as they hurried down the garden path.

Harry turned toward the cottage, running backward, and saw the window to his attic room open.  “Accio bag and photos,” he commanded, and he saw his bag fly out of the window and hurtle toward him.  He caught it in his chest and cast a featherweight charm on it and then shrank it into his pocket.  He pointed back toward the window and commanded, “Accio Magnolia’s bag and photos,” and they came flying out toward them again.

By now they were at the end of the lane and the automobile with Phrixus was waiting for them, engine running.  They hopped into the back seat and the car was taking off at high speeds toward the A7.

“Do you think they registered our magic?” Harry asked.

“Father took the trace off of my wand my first Winter hols.  Uncle Lucius took the trace off of yours when we went Abraxan riding.”  She was breathing heavily and then smiled at him.  “This is going to go to trial.  I can’t alter memories.  If I even tried, I couldn’t alter that many memories.  Too many witnesses.”

Harry nodded carefully and breathed through his nose.  “No, of course not.  He—he threatened to rape you.”

“Which is why,” Magnolia told him firmly, taking his hand and turning toward him, “we’re going to win.”  She entwined their fingers.  “I would never let him touch me,” she swore.

“No, but he’s horrible,” Harry murmured into the night.  “My own brother.”

“Half-brother, Harrogate.  He’s the worst of your father.  You’re the best of your mother.”

“You haven’t met her,” Harry teased, the summer wind whipping through his hair.

“No,” she agreed.  “But I will when I turn seventeen and ask for her blessing.”  She turned thoughtful.  “We should do everything to encourage her to attend our wedding.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed.  “I should like nothing better.  I want to prepare rooms for her at Grimmauld Place so she can come and stay if she pleases.  She need not stay alone in that turret room alone.”

“No,” Magnolia agreed as she leaned her head against Harry’s shoulder.

They drove through the night.  By the time they reached Little Hangleton, there were Auror barriers, and they had to turn around and go to Lincolnshire where Barty Crouch Jr. lived.  They arrived at noon and were fortunately let in by a house elf.

A beautiful witch with strawberry blonde hair met them.

“Madam Crouch?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” she agreed, looking between them.  “My husband is out—”

“We need your floo, Madam Crouch,” Magnolia explained.  “We’re Lady Magnolia Riddle and Mr. Harrogate Gaunt Potter.  We believe you know Harrogate’s mother, Lady Maia Gaunt.”

“Oh my dear,” she sighed, coming up to Harry and taking his hands in hers.  Madam Crouch looked between them.  “You’re wanted for questioning by the Ministry.”

“I’m not surprised,” Harry told her.  “Please, could we use your floo to get back to Headquarters?  So we can regroup and ask Uncle Marvolo what we should do?  We’ve come straight from Somersetshire.”

“Of course, my dears,” she agreed, letting them into another room with a roaring fire despite it being summer.  “You have access to Riddle House?”

“We do,” Magnolia said.  “The Dark Lord won’t forget this.”

They took the floo powder from its jar and threw it into the fire, falling into the green flames and tumbling out into Riddle House.

“Oh, my darlings,” Lady Aloysia sighed when she saw them.  “Lucius says the Aurors are out in force trying to find you.”

“I need to speak to Uncle Marvolo,” Harry told her.  “I need to know my options.”

The Dark Lord was gratified to see his daughter safely returned to him.  He took Harry into his study as soon as he was assured Magnolia was unharmed.  “What happened?” he asked in his high-pitched voice.

“My birthday was tense, a lot of fighting.”  He took a deep breath.  “Jonathan got insulted when Magnolia mentioned Blaise Zabini and Ginny Weasley were a couple and started throwing hexes at us.”

“Why would that insult him?” the Dark Lord asked.

“The Weaslette used to be his girlfriend.  We saw to it she changed her mind about him.”

He nodded.

“I started throwing plates at him.  Dad took away his wand.”  Harry ran a hand over his face. 

“What is it, Harrogate?”

“We were talking about whether or not Jonathan had his own flat so he could entertain.  Jonathan said he’d cut off Magnolia’s ring finger so he could—so he could—That’s when I threw a knife directly through his throat.  I don’t know if he’s alive or not.”

“He said that?” the Dark Lord seethed.

“Yes,” Harry confirmed.  “You see why I reacted so badly.  At that point I was not going to spend the night, I would not have Magnolia near him, but hearing him threaten her like that—I snapped.  I had the knife and I just—threw it.”

“You did right,” the Dark Lord told him flatly.  “I would have done worse.  We will have to find out if you merely assaulted your half-brother or if you killed in Magnolia’s defense.  Who witnessed this?”

“Lily.  Dad.  Violet.  Hermione Granger.”

“Who?”

“A Muggleborn we planted as Jonathan’s girlfriend.  She approached us but she’s proved useful.”

“Then perhaps we can use her,” the Dark Lord mused.  He tapped his fingers against his desk.  “Leave this with me.  Thank you for bringing Magnolia home.  Who let you use their floo?”

“Apricot Crouch.”

“She will be rewarded,” he confirmed.  The Dark Lord made a sign that Harry could leave.  “Go to bed.  See your mother if you must.”

When Harry left it was to see a surge of Death Eater activity.  Magnolia had retired given the fact that they had driven through the night.  Harry went to the back garden and tried the back door to the North Tower.  It fortunately didn’t burn him, but it also didn’t open.  He pressed his hand to the door and let his magic surge into it.  After two minutes, the door clicked open as if it had merely been locked.

He opened the door and walked up the turret stairs.

“Mother?” he called as he came to the top.

For a moment no one answered but then he heard footsteps and his mother appeared at the top of the stairs.  She was wearing blue robes, the left side of her face and neck stained with black veins, her dirty blonde hair flowing down her back.  “Harrogate?  Why aren’t you in Godric’s Hollow?”

“I’m accused of murder—or attempted murder.  I’m not sure which.”

He hurried up the last few steps and engulfed his mother in his hug, tucking his chin on her shoulder.  Tears of exhaustion formed in his eyes.  He could feel her fingers running through his hair and she made hushing sounds until he calmed down.

He sat with her and told her all about his horrible dinner, a tea service even appearing after half an hour.

“He said that?” his mother checked.  “That he’d cut off her middle finger?”

“Yes.”

“In front of all those witnesses?”

“Yes,” Harry agreed glumly, taking a sip of his rose tea.

“He’s lucky all you did was throw a knife through his throat.  That’s positively restrained!  You should have put him under the Cruciatus Curse.”

“I didn’t know at the time that the trace had been taken off of my wand.”

“Well, you should have been told,” she agreed.  “It’s not so obvious if you didn’t grow up in a dark pureblood family.  But that’s what I would have done, if someone had threatened you in such a way.”

“Mother!” Harry chided with a slight smile in his voice.

“Quite right,” she agreed, though Harry didn’t know what his mother was agreeing to.  “You are quite capable of defending yourself.  You’ve proved that magnificently.  Well,” she set down her cup.  “Cousin Lucius will put this to rights.  You’ll go to trial.  Your actions will be shown as warranted and that will be an end to it.”

“Can it be so simple, Mother?”

“It is not so simple,” she agreed, “but Uncle Marvolo and Cousin Lucius will play the game for you.  You are safe now that you are here.”

“I’m afraid Dad will hate me.”

“I don’t think your father will ever hate you.  He’s never hated Jonathan, and he was a positive bully.  I will write to him, if that will make you feel better.”

“He does want to hear from you,” Harry told her.

“I know,” she murmured.  “I’m afraid of opening my heart up to him again.  Nothing will change.  He will remain with Lily.  I am scarred beyond recognition.”

“Violet and I are almost out of school,” Harry pushed gently.  “We only have two more years left.  His ‘difficulties’ will be at an end.”

His mother took a sip of her tea and then considered.  “What you say is true, but I think perhaps too much time has passed.  No—” she said, reaching out to Harry.  “I would like nothing better than to give you a stable home, but you must look for examples elsewhere in the family.”

Harry nodded.  “Do say you will consider spending part of the year with us at Grimmauld Place once I graduate.  I cannot promise you a garden, but you can move about the entire house.  You can see Barty again if you like.  You can see anyone you like.  If you are shy, we can glamour you.”

She smirked.  “I shall certainly consider it if Aurora may come.”

They both looked at the American bulldog that was scratching herself in front of the roaring fire. 

“Of course she can come,” Harry agreed.  “She’s your dog.”

Harry was soon fatigued and when the sun started to set, he left the turret tower after having dinner with his mother.  He made his way into the main house and was about to ascend the stairs to his room when he saw Lord Malfoy through the open doors of the Dark Lord’s study.

“Ah, Harrogate,” he called out.  “Please come in.”

Harry looked around him, seeing the halls were clear of Death Eaters, and went into the study. 

“Have you found out how bad it is?” he asked.

“I have,” Lord Malfoy agreed.  “Jonathan Potter received medical attention in time and you are simply charged with assault and attempted murder.”

Harry grimaced.  “I wasn’t trying to kill him.”

“I know you weren’t, nephew,” Lord Malfoy agreed.  “You were trying to defend Magnolia.”

“Yes,” he admitted.  “I couldn’t bear the thought of him forcing himself on her—”

“He’s unwell, I understand.  It’s only a matter of time.”

“Yes,” Harry said darkly.  “Only a matter of time.”