Disclaimer 1: I own nothing, only my own imagination. Anything recognizable belongs to their rightful owner(s)—not me.
Disclaimer 2: Maggie-centric, ensemble cast. Glenn still pines over Maggie (so that stays canon), pure blood society is explored a bit, Hershel is kinda ooc, and Draco is a little shit (as usual). Beth and Maggie's full names have been adapted into the world of HP because I see them as needing more formal and regal 'public' personalities.
~Not read by another person before I posted this, so fingers crossed there aren't too many mistakes... I did learn, while editing, that I misspell "calendar" quite often. Hope you enjoy this crossover!
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Years Before
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When Maggie was five years old, she wondered when she would receive her own broomstick, after watching her two older brothers zoom around their home's rolling hills.
A year earlier, she was happy just to witness her older siblings flying high in the unending blue skies dotted with white fluffy clouds.
She clapped her hands wholeheartedly when her oldest brother landed down at her side, the action sending a gust of wind that swept up the ends of her skirt.
The golden snitch, a wiggling ball with wings, was pinned into place by her brother's steady hold. She cheered again, when her second oldest brother swooped to the ground and promptly tackled their oldest brother for the snitch.
Their two brooms laid among the grass, flattening bristles underneath. Maggie tore her amused gaze from her brothers. The cherry woods glistened from the up-to-date cleaning charms and polishing potions, while the artfully splayed twigs of the branches bundled at one end made Maggie believe the flying brooms were wild creatures ready to take off.
Magical objects could have mind's of their own, Maggie had been warned before, and she took that to heart by having a healthy fear of objects of any kind. But the broomsticks her brothers rode were familiar, so Maggie could trust that these objects were safe.
She picked up the broom, wide-eyed in wonder.
Then a yelp came from her second oldest brother. Maggie thought he sounded like a screeching cat. "Let go, have you no shame, Shawn?!"
Maggie managed to unwrap her hand from the broom she had grabbed, and watched her brothers' wrestle on the grass. With no one to remark on their wrinkling clothing and immature behavior, the two teenagers fought dirty.
"My nipple!" her oldest brother shrieked, "Unhand me!" he wrapped his hand around the fingers pinching a point on his chest and retaliated without mercy.
"Arrrghh!"
Maggie's grass-like colored eyes had brightened with excitement as she flew circles above the fighting boys, the air whooshed around her head, leaving a pleasant buzzing sensation in her ears.
As she watched the sky faded deeper and deeper shades of blue from a view she had never had the privilege of seeing before, Maggie wondered why her parents never let her on a broomstick before...
At six year's old, Maggie found herself crowding around a lump hidden in folds of a green patterned wool blanket—fitting for the birth of a new Greene child.
She slowly, slowly, reached out a hand until the tip of her fingers brushed along the edge of the tartan. She saw pale fingers also grasping at the blanket.
Maggie knew Mother had a baby in her blooming belly, but she didn't expect it to be so... small. It had been two weeks since the baby was kept away from anyone other than Mother and Father.
Chubby and curled into round fists, the hand jerked, as if the tiny human had no control of itself, and then the fingers latched onto Maggie's with a surprisingly strong grip.
"Hello," Maggie whispered to not scare the small baby. She couldn't tell if she succeeded by how the fingers tightened in response to her simple greeting.
"She's strong," Maggie lifted her chin to inform her father who had been beside her to witness the meeting of siblings.
He stroked his whitening beard, "She is..." he observed the baby's chubby fingers that had reddened by the tight grip. He hoped her mind would be as strong as her body seemed to be, but the way the baby's eyes wandered aimlessly told him something else.
"Compos mentis," he said decidedly.
The air stilled, as though a vacuum of space occupied the baby's nursery. And then... finally, warmth spread into the fingertips that clung to Maggie's hand.
Maggie gasped at the rush of heat filling the room.
It was done, as it had been done for centuries before. Each Greene was matched with a motto that dictated their lives. It was a sort of warding spell that was developed by the Greene family of old times.
"... Sound mind?" Maggie translated clumsily.
"To be of sound mind," her father corrected, eyes still on the two week old baby. "See how her eyes wander. She hasn't looked at you at all, nor has she returned any attempts at eye contact."
"Oh," Maggie didn't know what else to say. Her little sister was gifted with a motto that will be her first words and will be with her, her entire lifetime. And witches lived longer than muggles, so that was saying something.
"She's strong," Maggie repeated to herself softly, under her breath, and her eyes still on the baby's.
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Year 1: Going To Hogwarts
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When Maggie was eleven, she could hardly contain herself. Thin shoulders nearly rattled with every step that took her closer to the train platform. Her eyes glittered as she looked passed the muggles in favor of watching the numbered overhanging signs.
Her little sister had grown much within the last five years. Instead of a balding blonde with tiny fingers, her sister was now a short thing with overflowing blonde hair.
There was pressure around her hand again, Maggie didn't dare crane her neck down in an unseemly manner to look at her sister, because if she did, if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop the flash of nervousness appearing on her face.
Her sister, too familiar with Maggie's habits, knew how to read her face.
And Beth was a sensitive girl, still too young to stop herself from flinging herself at her older sister in an effort to hug the negative feelings from Maggie's body. A hug fixed everything from a sad face to broken bones, according to Beth's childish mind.
Maggie would rather not offer a reason to have her body tremble from a stinging hex, she thought, sparing a quick glance at her mother.
The woman in question currently strolled with her two children, a hand on Beth's shoulder. Her hair fell down her shoulders in white blonde trimmed curls. Her shade of blonde lacked the warmth of Beth's. The chestnut brown of the Maggie pin straight locks allowed for some truth in the rumors that they were not of the same blood.
Rumors were that, only rumors. As the bonding between the latest Greene family pairing did not allow for the bonded pair to have any affairs of the body and heart.
Beth clung tighter to her older sister's hand as the trio neared platforms nine and ten. They were young enough that holding hands wasn't yet childish or considered clingy, so Maggie returned the action with her own one second squeeze, sweeping her eyes down. Wispy blonde hairs flowed in the gentle early September winds, reminding Maggie of flying high in the sky.
She shook the daydream out of her mind.
It was early morning, and all that mattered to the Greene family was yet another child keeping tradition by attending Hogwarts.
Tearful goodbyes were not tradition and led to discrete stinging hexes, so Maggie looked away from her little sister's watering eyes.
Noises filled the air, but the rolling of trolley wheels grinding upon solid concrete, the squawking of newly purchased owls, and high pitched squeals from uncivilized mudblood and muggle children.
Maggie glanced at her mother as the trio stood stalk still near the ruddy brick wall of Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
All of it made talking a near impossible task. Not to mention, lingering here was foolish and none of the Greene family members desired to stay in Muggle London any more than necessary.
Was that a green and silver scarf? Slytherin colors—on a muggle, Maggie wondered briefly, failing to keep her eyes from straying to the oblivious muggles.
Maggie glanced at her self, wondering if her silk robes with heating charms were as warm as the woolen coats the muggles around her wore. They didn't have the advantage of magic, so she doubted it.
"A fast walk, nothing more," Maggie's mother said, hand still on Beth's shoulder. Her eyes were hard as they watched muggles carry on about their business.
Maggie flicked her eyes momentarily at their mother. Dressed smartly in black heels, pearls, and a thick tartan robe, the attire made her an intimidating figure. Long lines of her draping robes hugged her form in a way that was both highlighting feminine curves and a rather tall frame.
"Yes, mother," the girls spoke in unison, their gripped hands anchored them together.
A muggle man shivered as he passed by at that exact moment. He threw a look over his shoulder at the two girls. No one wanted to hear two little girls speaking at the exact same pitch and with perfect timing. Creepy little things, he thought to himself, happy to not have any children of his own.
"Bethelia, come," the girls' mother beckoned. "Your sister will go first."
The girls shared a look.
Beth pouted, but Maggie shook off her hand. She took a moment to smooth down her sleeves that encased her in warmth, not sparing her sister a second glance. She was too excited for what would come next, because passing the brick wall was a rite of passage.
She wouldn't want her little sister hanging on her.
"Mother, won't the muggles see us?"
Oh, Maggie blinked, Beth wouldn't know about the notice-me-not and muggle-repel spells
As the youngest child of a pureblood family, Beth didn't have the opportunity to join the family's yearly expedition through Muggle London's train station. There was no reason for Beth to be exposed to the outside world.
Pureblood bonded pairs often struggled to conceive, leading to children being rare and as such, cherished by their families.
Scarcely seen outside the home except for allied families coming together for balls and children's social calls, pureblooded children stayed home. It was all for their protection, truly, as muggles would do the worst things imaginable to witchy, freaky children who couldn't control their magical outbursts.
"No," was their mother's plain response to Beth's question. The two would remain until the Hogwarts Express left the station. "Now, let's go."
Maggie then pulled in a large breath of congested air. Filthy muggles, she thought as she swallowed the cough that threatened to wretch itself out of her body.
She held her hands down at her sides and marched forward. The brick wall had cracks and looked plain, giving no hint that it was indeed magical.
And then she let her feet carry her closer and closer until staring at the red bricks strained her eyes.
She closed her eyelids and a whoosh of air whipped all around and through Maggie. A tingle lingered throughout her body, especially in her gut. Nerves seemed to pulse with each beat of her heart. She knew by the way her cheeks warmed and a spark lit within her that that she was surrounded by magic.
When Maggie's eyes reopened, the tingling sensations slowly ebbed away.
"Come on, girls," Maggie heard her mother say with the usual commanding tone. The trio was now reunited, with the muggle world left behind them.
A hand squeezed Maggie's, and she glanced down at Beth. She knew her little sister was stopping herself from latching herself around Maggie.
A moment later and Maggie's trunk was unshrunk and her beloved black cat, Governor, hissed from within his cage. He was a mean old thing, but he held Maggie's heart.
She and Beth stopped cooing at the unreasonably angry cat, at their mother's request.
"Say your goodbye's now," the woman said, eyes on the scarlet red train.
Maggie turned to her sister, finding it hard to ignore Governor batting his paw at the lock of his cage. "Goodbye."
"Not goodbye," Beth pouted ever so slightly.
Beth took no notice of the woman touching her throat, as though she was parched, and continued to speak, "Maggie-"
The childish nickname spoken by Beth had their mother clearing her throat.
Beth immediately lowered her eyes to the ground, cheeks flushed. She stared hard at aged gum dotting the ground. Withered by countless feet, the once bright colors had become blobs of grey. It was kind of gross.
"Magnolia, goodbye," Maggie's heart warmed when Beth caught her eyes. With her head held tall, the short blonde girl stated proudly, "Fortitudine vincimus."
And she would. Maggie would endure the near painful nervous excitement that thrummed within her.
Their mother nodded in approval and Maggie's back straightened instinctively at hearing her motto, almost unbearable heat filled her until even her eyes felt hot. Those familiar words brought a renewed warmth within her, and she thought of home, her mother, and her father's beard, which were the other oldest constants in Maggie's life.
Maggie decided then and there that she would miss Beth, despite how annoying her younger sibling could be. She'd miss their walks through their manor's vast open gardens and climbing the branches of tall oak trees.
"I'll write you." Mother and Father expected letters.
"Every day," Beth peered up at Maggie.
"Once a week."
"Promise?"
"Sure," Maggie almost rolled her eyes, almost, but that would be childish. And Mother stood right there, too close and even if she wasn't there, Maggie knew she'd be too afraid of Mother hearing about the eye-rolling from someone witnessing this.
The Hogwarts Express did group together wizards and witches from all around Europe, there was no doubt an allied family of the Greene's was watching them at this very moment.
"This isn't goodbye," Beth almost whimpered.
Maggie paused to think. She released her bottom lip from between her teeth, a horrible habit, really. And her mother's tutting didn't go unnoticed. "I'll be home, soon."
Beth's smile blinded her.
A metallic and shrill whistle echoed off the bountiful nooks and crannies of the Hogwarts Express. Maggie should have found a compartment long ago, since this was her first year. Her older brother's had already graduated, and Mother advised her to sit with family.
Cousin Draco? Maggie held in a shudder. She'd rather not deal with the pangs of a headache. Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius truly doted on their only son, she inwardly sighed.
"Promise?" Beth badgered.
"Yes, I promise."
Beth smiled triumphantly.
"It's time," their mother stated.
Beth dutifully returned to their mother's side, blue eyes shining.
Excitement and fear tingled up Maggie's spine. Hands clutched to the handles to heave herself onto the scarlet train. Her mother tutted at the action. Maggie, after years of hearing that noise, stood ramrod at the open doorway.
"Your father and I expect a letter by morning."
"Yes, Mother," with that, Maggie shut the door softly behind her, dragging her trunk behind her, with Governor laying resigned on his cage atop the trunk.
Few students walked by her. Maggie looked past their unfamiliar faces, only seeing blurs as she strolled down the corridor. She almost passed another compartment... only to pause when she spotted her cousin Draco.
She saw his hair first. Pale, nearly translucent blond hair was a common Malfoy trait. As was being sorted into Slytherin.
Maggie knew where he would be sorted, she also knew where she would be sorted.
The blond head jerked up as though aware of her gaze. Grey eyes met hers through the glass pane.
He smirked.
Ugh.
Maggie's ever present blank face was a fortress for her mind.
Fortitudine vincimus, fortitudine vincimus, fortitudine vincimus - the motto never left its place from Maggie's mind for too long, the result of imprinting the two words since birth.
When the door slid open, she was gifted with a familiar silence pure blood children often found themselves.
"Cousin," Draco started with a pompous grin, "Uncle Hershel informed Father you'd join us. We were discussing this year's sorting."
Why discuss what you already know,Maggie wondered, but the thought sounded much too like her mother.
Her mother was in Ravenclaw, however, she never seemed keen on the trait of curiosity.
Every person in this compartment certainly knew where their paths led.
When Maggie hefted her trunk up into the racks above their heads, she slid into the only open seat, squashed between Pansy and Theodore.
She nodded hello to the two curly haired boys, Rick and Shane. Both were seated, flanking Draco's sides. More importantly, both were destined for Gryffindor house.
Dale, the poor boy, folded into himself in the corner of the compartment. Pure Hufflepuff, that one, Maggie held back a laugh.
Opposite Maggie, Draco wriggled with excitement.
"What it is," she asked with a raised brow.
He opened his mouth to release a torrent of words from his twelve year old lungs, "Well, Magnolia, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't know. This year, Potter is attending Hogwarts. I hardly listen to rumors, as you know, but they're saying he's on the train. This train, and father said -"
Yes, Maggie was quite aware of Draco's penchant to lie and gossip. The boy truly was the Malfoy heir.
"... and he will be in Slytherin, of course, no doubts there."
"We've never met him, Dray," Maggie countered.
He then tried to kill her with his frosty grey eyes. Nobody called him that... Well, maybe his mother, but no one else.
Maggie leaned her back against the cushioned seat and almost sighed when Pansy's bony elbow jabbed into her side. Theodore, seated on her other side seemed more concerned with the book in his lap to pay attention to anything going on around him.
Rick added needlessly beside Draco, "Maggie's right. He could be a 'Puff for all we know."
Shane nodded in agreement.
"She believes hippogriffs aren't dangerous," Draco glared at the boy. "She's not right about anything."
"Those giant birds?" Dale voiced from his corner.
Draco rolled his eyes, "Magnolia's obsessed with them."
"Not true," Maggie refused to cross her arms as a sign of Draco affecting her nerves. "I said they can be tamed, never said a thing about them being completely safe. How do you suppose hippogriffs pose for calendars?"
There was a hippogriff calendar currently charmed stuck to Draco's bedroom wall. Maggie had used it to count the days until September 1st. Admiring the glistening coats of the half-bird creatures, she had voiced her positive opinions of the majestic creatures to Draco.
At the time, she didn't know her Aunt Narcissa had put the calendar on his wall. Draco was always terrible at keeping track during the lazy summer days.
Maggie endured his tirade of how stupid, how mortifying, and unmanly for him to have a prancing bird themed calendar.
Draco scowled, "Potter is on board right now. You're not at all interested in the most famous person of our year? He survived the killing curse."
He suddenly sneered, "Or will you be too busy with your nose stuck in a book this entire train ride? You're not even a little interested in meeting him?"
"Reading sharpens the mind," Maggie frowned. "If you're so... interested in him, ask Potter for an autograph."
"I could never do such a thing," he looked scandalized at the idea. "Don't mock me, cousin. He survived the impossible—how could anyone be that powerful? Slytherin, I'm telling you."
Ugh. Why couldn't Draco be less of a nuisance? Why do Mother and Father want me to endure this? I could be in Beauxbatons. Anywhere Draco couldn't pester me.
Fortitudine vincimus, Maggie reminded herself, because whinging had never helped her accomplish anything.
Her family would lock her away if she asked to leave behind centuries of tradition. The Greene Family attended Hogwarts, were always sorted into Ravenclaw, and each member of the Greene Family followed their mottos to their graves.
I would be no different, Maggie swore to herself, completely believing this as the rolling hills of Scotland stretched far beyond sight.
She would later find out she was wrong, so, so wrong. And no matter how hard she would fight to follow her motto to her grave and follow her family's wishes, she'd be too different.
Not now, however. Now, she was Magnolia Greene, a pureblood with no thoughts outside of what she'd been taught to believe.
But there would a boy to challenge her world view. Just not now, not yet...
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*Draco's hippogriff calender is an homage to the "fancy" hippogriff calender in HP: Order of The Phoenix, chapter 23 (Christmas on the Closed Ward)
*Ravenclaws need more love, hence Maggie being a 'Claw, and her family having a legacy of Ravenclaws.
*Pureblood children often ran in the same social circles. Maggie's parents forced her to live with the Malfoy's each summer for as long as she could remember.
*Bethelia: based on her parents names: Naelia + Hershel = use of the letters 'n' and 'l' in Naelia, and use of "el" in Hershel. Bethelna and Bethsheba were other names considered.
*Maggie is the odd one out of her family, being the only one to have brown hair. The rest of her immediate family are blonds, as are the Malfoy family.
*Hershel Greene is a Wizarding Animal Naturalist, studying and caring for magical pastoral animals. He couldn't join his family in saying goodbye to Maggie (Year 1) because he was studying a rooster that only crowed the dawn before a full moon. Are there such things as were-roosters? Bitten by a werewolf, somehow survived an attack...? Hershel wondered.
*Greene family is a long line of distinguished pureblooded ravenclaws. Despite green being a traditional slytherin moniker, this last name has its ties to green, lush rolling hills of Scotland.
*Maggie's motto: Fortitudine vincimus - By endurance we conquer. This is kinda cruel. By saying this, Maggie's family remind her to do as she's told, even if she desires to do otherwise. Using the word 'we' signifies the Greene family wanting Maggie to value group think over her own individual values.
*Beth's motto: Compos mentis - of sound mind (and judgement). Kind of a play on how terrible Beth took Shane and the others killing her family members in the barn. She wasn't of sound mind and judgement and was suicidal at one point. At one point in season 4 (I think) Beth wasn't that emotional over the death of her boyfriend, sort of a meek acceptance. She was using logic to presume the worst.
*Promises made in this chapter:
1) Maggie to Beth about writing home: Ugh. "Yes, I promise." Beth smiled triumphantly.
2) Maggie promising that she would be like any other Greene: "I would be no different, Maggie swore to herself."
Thanks for reading.