Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: This was originally a one-shot, and this chapter is mostly short vignettes of Valerie Potter's pregnancy and life with her children until they go to Hogwarts. The next chapter will be more continuous. I may flesh out the shorter scenes more later, but for now they are just snippets of life.
WARNINGS: Non-explicit childbirth.
"My lord?" Lucius said, stepping into the room with a bow.
"Yes, Lucius?" Voldemort replied, not looking up from the paperwork he was filling out.
"There's been a…development, with Potter."
That caused the Dark Lord to look up. Valerie Potter had been captured two days before during a raid, and was currently in the basement of Malfoy Manor. While dangerous to keep her somewhere that the Order of the Phoenix could locate, it was better than holding her in the dungeons at the Dark Headquarters when she would inevitably escape and lead the Order back to them.
"What sort of development, Luciusss?" Voldemort asked slowly, drawing out the 's' as he only did when he was annoyed.
Lucius gulped, before saying, "She's pregnant."
That was…unexpected, to say the least. As far as their Light side spies knew, Valerie Potter was the epitome of a pure, goody-two-shoes, saving-my-virginity-for-marriage girl. They were also relatively sure that she was single. So the fact that Valerie Potter either knew someone well enough to sleep with them or was sleeping around for the fun of it was somewhat shocking.
Voldemort felt the need to clarify.
"Potter. As in the Gryffindor Golden Girl Potter? Perfectly Pure Potter? Doesn't breathe without Dumbledore's approval Potter?"
"She's the only Potter still living," Lucius reminded.
Voldemort waved his hand dismissively.
"I'm sure that there is a multitude of Muggle Potters wandering about. But you are talking about the witch Potter, correct? The one in your basement?"
"Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort stared at him for a moment before sighing.
"I suppose I should see if Potter's willing to make a deal."
LINEBREAK
"What do you want, you snake-faced son of a Muggle?" Valerie Potter spat as Voldemort entered the small room she had been trapped in for the past two days. Her legs were shackled directly to the floor, without even a chain to allow her movement, and her arms were drawn up behind her by chains. It was a decidedly uncomfortable position.
"Now, now, Miss Potter, that is no way to treat someone who is willing to make a deal with you," the Dark Lord chided.
"Sorry, I don't make deals with the devil," she sneered.
"You may change your mind quickly," he replied. With a casual flick of his wand, she was rearranged so that she was loosely chained to a chair instead.
"Are you aware that you are pregnant?" Voldemort asked conversationally.
Her face paled, and for the first time, he saw Valerie Potter look well and truly afraid.
"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though one of her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. "Why should I believe you?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"Do you know the pregnancy detection spell?" he asked her.
She gave a short, crisp nod.
Voldemort pointed his wand at her stomach, ignoring her stiffening, and incanted, "Conceptum Revelio!"
A saturated purple glow surrounded her stomach.
"Congratulations, Miss Potter. You are pregnant with twins, a male and a female."
If possible, the girl paled further.
"Please…don't hurt my babies. I'll do anything…just don't hurt them," she whispered, looking for once the teenaged girl she actually was.
"You are in luck, Miss Potter, because I prefer to preserve magical blood. I am not in the habit of killing mothers, especially pregnant ones. However, you have been a thorn in my side for far too long. I will not allow you to leave this place with anything less than a magical oath."
The girl took a deep breath and raised her chin.
"What do you want from me?"
Voldemort barely prevented the smirk from reaching his lips.
"You catch on quickly. Very well: I want you to swear that you will no longer fight against me or my cause and that you will change your identity and never reveal your magic to anyone else," he stated.
Something flashed in her eyes as she sat up straighter, and Voldemort could feel the headache known as Valerie Potter returning.
"I refuse to agree to something so one-sided. I have no guarantees that you won't just kill me on a whim! I want an oath that you won't harm the three of us, and that you'll protect my children," she argued.
"Why should I protect your children?" Voldemort sneered.
"Because you said I can't reveal my magic, so I therefore can't protect them myself," she said simply.
Voldemort resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but knew that she had a point.
"Very well. Make your oath," he ordered.
The Potter girl did roll her eyes.
"I, Valerie Lillian Potter, swear on my magic not to fight the Dark Lord Voldemort, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle…"
She ignored the hiss the man let out as his proper name.
"…or his forces, and to change my identity and not reveal to anyone that I have magic, so long as the Dark Lord Voldemort, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, protects my children. So mote it be."
Light flashed around her, and she looked to Voldemort expectedly.
He let out a sigh, but still said, "I, the Dark Lord Voldemort, formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, do swear on my magic not to harm Valerie Lillian Potter or her offspring, and I swear to do my best to protect said offspring. So mote it be."
Light flashed around him as well.
"Now that we have covered the basics, we have two options. One, we can provide a Muggle house, bank accounts, and identity for you, and you can go there immediately. Two, you can stay in my Headquarters until you children are born and then go live in the Muggle world. The only difference is the way you give birth," Voldemort said.
The girl bit her lip in concentration.
"Which is safer?"
Voldemort blinked in surprise. He thought the girl would choose the option that got her away from him the fastest.
"Magical births are safer than Muggle ones," he said slowly. "We have a much lower infant mortality rate than the Muggles do."
She nodded firmly.
"I would like to remain in the Magical world until my children are born," she stated.
"You do know that this will put you in close proximity to me for the next eight or nine months," Voldemort warned.
"I know."
"You will be housed in my private wing, and not allowed to leave."
"I suspected as much. Do you have a library in your wing?"
Voldemort blinked.
"Of course."
"Then I will stay there, and you will do whatever it is Dark Lords do when they're not trying to kill off their enemies, and we'll coexist peacefully," the girl said, far too cheerful for Voldemort's taste.
"You are aware that you have just agreed to spend the next eight to nine months with a Dark Lord, correct?" Voldemort asked again, trying to assure himself of her words.
She looked up at him with big green eyes that were beginning to fill with tears.
"Are you saying that you don't want me around?"
Voldemort was a Dark Lord. He could deal with madmen, Inferi, and ripping someone's intestines out with his bare hands, but a crying woman was not something he knew how to deal with.
"What are you trying to do here, Miss Potter?" he nearly growled.
The tears were rolling down her cheeks now.
"I – I'm sorry, my hormones have been all over the place this week…at least I know why now. Do you have a handkerchief?" she asked between sniffles.
Voldemort pulled a white handkerchief, embroidered with silver and green snakes, out of his pocket and handed it to her, before releasing the chains around her. He grimaced as she blew her nose loudly.
"Up, Miss Potter. I have things to do which do not include you," he demanded before nearly dragging her out of the chair and Apparating back to his Headquarters.
The girl looked around, wide-eyed.
"I expected more blood and guts, though the snake motif was entirely predictable."
"This is Salazar Slytherin's Ancient Halls, not a butcher's shop. Blood and guts are required to stay on the lowest level of the dungeons," Voldemort replied.
"How many are there?" she asked.
"Four."
She stopped in shock.
"Who needs four levels of dungeons?"
"A man who single-handedly invited the entire Potions curriculum of Hogwarts," Voldemort responded drily.
"Why do you always brew potions in a basement? Wouldn't the ventilation be better if it was in a tower? Plus, wouldn't that reduce the risk of structural damages if only the roof of the tower could be blown apart by a faulty potion?" she inquired.
"The majority of potions cannot be brewed with any exposure to sunlight, and most potions labs are warded against explosions and enchanted for ventilation purposes," Voldemort lectured before leading her to a closed door and opening it.
Inside was a large sitting room that led to an equally large bedroom.
"It has a private bath and a walk-in closet," Voldemort said. "I will assign a house-elf to you to take care of your needs. Do not leave this wing. The library is the double-doors next door. You are welcome there. The double doors at the end of the hall is my bedroom. Do not go in if you value your freedom. The door on the opposite side is my study, where I can normally be found if I am not dealing with Death Eaters. I will leave the door open unless I am with one of my followers. You are not permitted to be seen in those circumstances. A house-elf will show you around otherwise. Good night."
He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Valerie stood in shock for a moment, until a house-elf popped up.
"I's Kessy. Master be assigning Kessy to helps you, Master's Guest!" the house-elf chirped.
"Hello, Kessy, it's a pleasure to meet you," Valerie said kindly. "My name is Valerie Potter, but you can call me Val."
The house-elf looked at Valerie with the wide, tear-filled eyes that she associated with the small creatures being thanked.
"Missy Valerie is so very kind to Kessy! Kessy is being proud to serve Missy Valerie!" the house-elf exclaimed.
Valerie smiled at her.
"Could you get me something to eat, Kessy? Nothing heavy, I haven't eaten in a couple days. And after that, I'd like a bath, if you don't mind."
"Of course, Missy Valerie!" the house-elf said excitedly before popping out.
That was the start of an eight month stay with the Dark Lord.
LINEBREAK
It only took Valerie a week to get lonely and decide that even Voldemort's company would suffice. So she asked Kessy if Voldemort had regular times that he took his meals in the dining room in this wing, which she had learned was Voldemort's private wing. Kessy had revealed that yes, Voldemort was actually quite the regular in his routine. Valerie chalked it up to being old.
So on the Tuesday that was ten days after her initial capture by Death Eaters, Valerie joined Voldemort for breakfast at six o'clock in the morning.
His left eye twitched as she sat down to his right and cheerfully said, "Good morning, Voldemort!"
"What are you doing here?" he nearly growled.
Valerie helped herself to a scone, spreading a liberal amount of jam on it.
"Eating breakfast, of course. You certainly are grumpy before you have your first cuppa, aren't you?"
"Are you always this cheerful?" he growled.
"Not a morning person, then?" Valerie asked, nodding sagely as she took a bite of her scone. "I can understand that. Ron used to be terrible in the mornings. I've always gotten up early, a by-product of being forced to cook breakfast every morning from age four to eleven."
"Your miserable excuse for relatives?" Voldemort asked.
After practically living on each other's minds for four years, the pair knew quite a bit about each other, but they had an unspoken agreement not to use the personal information they'd seen against each other, mainly so that their own personal information was not revealed. Therefore, Voldemort knew all about Valerie's cupboard, and her abusive treatment at the hands of the Dursleys, and the fact that she was terrified of bulldogs due to Marge Dursley's dog, Ripper. Valerie knew about the abuse Tom Riddle had suffered at the hands of his Muggle caretakers, the exorcism he had been forced through by the Catholic Church, and the fact that he was rigid about his mealtimes due to his not being fed often as a child. The both remained respectfully silent about these things most of the time.
"Of course," Valerie replied. "I didn't figure out which breakfast foods I was partial to until I got to Hogwarts. And I still refuse to eat burnt toast on principle."
"I refuse to eat weak porridge," Voldemort noted, "for much the same reason."
Valerie nodded in understanding, and they sat in companionable silence for the next several minutes as they ate.
Finally, Valerie asked, "What are you planning to do about my pregnancy?"
"I assume you mean in terms of you giving birth?" Voldemort asked.
Valerie nodded.
"The house-elf I assigned you, Kessy, was trained as a midwife. I am fully capable of the spells to keep an eye on the baby, and I have already ordered the potions necessary for pre-natal care, post-natal care, as well as the potions for the birth itself. We must hope that a Caesarean-section is not required, as that would require me to attend myself, and that would be…messy."
Valerie could feel the disgust and slight panic he was feeling.
"Merlin, is the Dark Lord of the century scared of watching his archenemy give birth?" Valerie asked in slight glee.
Voldemort glared at her.
"I am not scared."
"You're certainly not willing to be there if you don't have to," Valerie taunted.
"Because I am busy!"
"Yeah right."
Voldemort glared at her.
"I will prove to you that I am not scared of childbirth!"
"So you'll be there when I'm giving birth?" Valerie asked innocently.
"Of course!"
They held each other's gazes for another minute, Valerie challenging, Voldemort glaring, before Valerie started snickering.
Voldemort blinked twice, then groaned, burying his head in his hands.
"You insufferable brat," he said, his voice muffled by his hands. "Why did I ever swear not to kill you?"
"Lapse of judgment," Valerie said promptly. "And you actually have morals, apparently. That was a shock, by the way."
"The next several months are going to try my patience, aren't they?" the Dark Lord asked.
"If your patience isn't being tried already, then I'm not doing my job well enough!" Valerie quipped.
Voldemort groaned once more.
Thus began the extremely odd friendship between Lord Voldemort, the greatest and most terrifying Dark Lord of all time, and Valerie Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, Chosen One, and Prophesied Savior of the Wizarding World.
LINEBREAK
"Tom?"
"Don't call me that. What do you want?"
"I started thinking yesterday, and I came to a conclusion," Valerie said.
Voldemort finally looked up from his paperwork to see her looking at him with big green puppy-dog eyes.
"What sort of conclusion did you come to?" he asked, slightly suspicious.
"I came to the conclusion that I want you to be the twins' godfather."
Voldemort stared at her in shock. She had to be joking. He tentatively felt at their link. She was completely serious.
"You want the man who killed your parents and has attempted to kill you numerous times to be the godfather to your unborn, very fragile twin children. Are you out of your mind?"
"Yes. It was bound to happen, after having a mental link to a madman since toddlerhood. Your sanity, or lack thereof, isn't even questioned anymore. So will you?" she asked hopefully.
"Absolutely not. Find someone more suitable, and leave me to my paperwork."
Voldemort heard a sigh as the pregnant woman left the room.
"Tom?"
"Don't call me that. What do you want?"
"Will you be the twins' godfather?"
"No. Go away."
"Tom?"
"Don't call me that. What do you want?"
"Will you be the twins' godfather?"
"No. Go back to your book."
"Tom?"
"Don't call me that. What do you want?"
"Will you be the twins' godfather?"
"No. Finish your dinner without any more insane requests."
"Tom?"
"What?"
"Will you –"
"No. Go away."
"Tom?"
"What?"
"Will you be the twins' godfather?"
"No. Stop asking."
Valerie Potter knocked on the doorframe to his office before stepping in and asking, "Tom?"
Voldemort banged his fists against his desk.
"For Salazar's sake, woman! What do I have to do to make you stop asking?"
She stared at him blankly.
"Say yes, of course."
Voldemort resisted the urge to groan, but snapped out, "Fine! I'll do it! Now stop asking!"
Valerie smiled, but it was more of an accomplished smirk.
"I'm surprised you held out that long. Everyone else has given into my begging once a day within three weeks. You lasted three times a day for the past seven months! I have a great res-"
Valerie froze, her hands flying to her bulging stomach.
Voldemort also froze.
"Please tell me you did not just go into labor," he said.
"I didn't just go into labor?" Valerie said weakly.
"You're in labor?"
"Pretty sure of it."
Voldemort sighed.
"Kessy!" he called.
The house-elf appeared.
"What does Master need from Kessy?" she squeaked.
"Valerie has just gone into labor. Please escort her back to her bedroom and prepare everything that needs to be ready for her to give birth to the twins," he said calmly, not betraying the panic he was feeling about his new-found – friend – giving birth. He knew how dangerous it could be.
"Tom?" Valerie said before she left the office.
"Yes?"
"I'm not going to die like your mother did. Don't worry, you won't end up having to raise the two children of a Gryffindor," she teased lightly before leaving the room.
"You and I both know that the Hat wanted you in Slytherin, Potter,' Voldemort called after her as she waddled down the hall.
"Yes, but I'm the daughter of one Marauder, the goddaughter of another, and the honorary goddaughter of a third. Mischief's in my blood, and theirs too. You'd never survive. Besides, family pride and all. All the Potters have been in Gryffindor," she called back.
"Do you doubt my ability to corrupt your children? I am sure that they will be Slytherins. In fact, I'd bet on it," he replied.
"Hundred galleons says you're wrong."
"You're on."
Two days later, Valerie was still in labor.
"I understand now why most women swear their partners are never having sex again during this. This has been extremely painful during the breaks in the potions," Valerie grunted.
"Are you going to start cussing out your partner?" Voldemort asked interestedly. He had been trying to get the name of the twins' father for six months now, but the Girl Savior was not talking. She had admitted that he was a wizard with two magical parents, so her children would be first-generation purebloods, but that was the most information she'd revealed.
"No. I certainly don't like him very much at the moment though," she replied.
"Missy Valerie is ready to start pushing," Kessy exclaimed. "Push, Missy Valerie, push!"
Twenty minutes later, Valerie was holding two small bundles, one with blonde hair and green eyes and the other with black hair and grey eyes.
"Lord Voldemort," Valerie said formally, "I would like to introduce you to Thomas Cedric Braxton Hart and Lucinda Sara Luna Hart."
Voldemort eyes widened slightly in shock.
"You named your son after me?"
Valerie shrugged.
"You've been an invaluable help. It's only fitting. I'm planning on calling him 'Brax' though. It would get too confusing to have two Toms around. I've decided on my name, anyway."
"Oh?"
"Holly Faith Hart. Holly for my wand. Faith that this will work out. Hart because my father's Animagus form was a stag. Once my kids are old enough for daycare, I'd like to start working as a kindergarten teacher, but I don't want to do that until they're at least a year old, maybe even two. I want to spend as much time with them as possible," the newly-christened Holly said.
Voldemort looked at her steadily.
"You believe that they will leave you once they learn of magic?"
"We'll grow apart. I've seen it happen with too many Muggleborns and their families. Their Muggle families simply can't relate to the amazing world that they live in, so they stop confiding in them, stop telling them things, and eventually, they're no more than casual acquaintances who happen to share blood," Holly said sadly.
A single tear trickled down her face.
"That will not happen with you and your children, Valerie Potter," Voldemort said firmly. "Because you are not the kind of woman to let that happen. Your children will love you until the end of time, simply because that's the kind of woman you are!"
She smiled gently at him.
"Aw, Tom, I didn't know you cared."
He huffed.
"I don't. I'm simply trying to spare myself the headache your raging hormones are bound to give me."
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" she teased.
"I have to ask…did you give Lucinda the middle name 'Sara' simply so you could have Little Lord Fauntleroy's Cedric Errol and A Little Princess's Sara Crewe?"
"Yes. I always loved those stories. Anyway, you've been up for two days. Go sleep. The Death Eaters can wait another day, and Kessy and the other house-elves will keep an eye on the twins and me. We're fine. Go to bed," the rechristened Holly ordered.
Voldemort was too tired to protest.
LINEBREAK
A month later, Voldemort deemed Holly and the twins well enough to move into their own house. It was a four bedroom house near Bristol, in an eclectic neighborhood that bore no resemblance to the Privet Drive of her youth. The neighbors were friendly and more than willing to help out the young widow and her two infant children who had just moved into Number 17, Jupiter Way.
"You poor dear!" Mrs. Nida Rajpar, of Number 15, cooed. "So young, and to have already lost your husband!"
"I do miss him," Holly admitted with a said smile. "James was such a kind man. We were sweethearts in school, and he proposed to me the day we graduated. We were so happy together, until the car accident took him from me. He left me quite a bit of money, though, so I doubt I'll have a problem caring for Brax and Lucy."
"Well, if you ever need anything – a babysitter, or if you just want to come over for a meal, or some adult company – you feel free, alright, dearie?"
"Yes, ma'am," Holly said bashfully.
"Is there anyone else looking out for you?" Mrs. Charlotte Johnson, of Number 16, asked.
"James' best friend, Tom, is the twins' godfather, and he's promised to check in on me as often as he can; at least once a month, once a week if he can manage it. My parents died when I was a baby, and James' died in the same car accident that killed him, so I'm all alone on that front, I'm afraid," Holly said.
"Well, I agree with Nida," Mrs. Johnson proclaimed. "If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask. Mike and Henry, who live at Number 13, run a clinic, and Henry's sister Jessica is their pediatrician. Everyone thinks they're excellent, so don't hesitate to call them if your little darlings get sick."
"Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Johnson," Holly said dutifully.
"Oh please, dear, call me Lottie! Everyone else does," the tiny blonde woman exclaimed.
"As you wish, Lottie," Holly said with a smile. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I have some boxes I should finish unpacking while the babies are still asleep."
There were several cheerful goodbyes as Holly retreated into her house. She paused at the mirror to examine her shoulder-length blonde hair and grey-blue eyes, a far cry different than her natural black hair with auburn highlights and bright green eyes. Her face was similar to Valerie Potter's, but anyone who saw her would think she was simply a relative, not Valerie Potter herself. The glamour she wore toned down the natural beauty she had inherited from her parents and made her look more like her Aunt Petunia than anyone else, much to her dismay. She broke the similarity by smiling widely and often.
She sighed as she heard a baby start crying, soon joined by the other. It would be a long few years, though the happy moments far outclassed the sad ones.
LINEBREAK
"UNCLE TOM!" Lucy yelled as soon as the dark-haired man stepped through the door. The six year old launched herself at him as soon as he had placed his hat and coat on the rack. The tall man caught her, and Holly laughed at the expression on his face. He probably thought there was accidental magic involved.
"Before you ask, every kindergartener I know can do the same thing, no matter whether the adult is four foot six or six foot ten," Holly told him as she finished drying the pan she was holding.
"That's a relief," Tom said with a smile. He kissed Lucy's forehead. "Hello, Lucy-loo-loo. How's my favorite princess doing today?"
The girl gave him a bright smile and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Better now that you're here, Uncle Tom."
The Dark Lord in disguise laughed.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, little princess."
"How long are you staying?" Holly asked.
"Barring any unforeseen difficulties, my underlings think that I'm in Belize for the next ten days," he said with a smile.
"TEN DAYS! MUMMY, UNCLE TOM'S STAYING FOR TEN DAYS!" Lucy shrieked at the high pitch that only six-year-old girls could manage.
Both Holly and Tom winced.
"Inside voice, Lucy," Holly said. "Brax! Come greet your Uncle Tom!"
Tom set Lucy down just in time for Brax to attempt to knock him over by hitting the back of his legs with his head.
"Hello, little lord," Tom greeted, half-twisting in order to sweep Brax into his arms as well. "You've grown taller."
"You're staying for ten days, Uncle Tom?" the boy asked excitedly.
"I believe so," Tom said with a small smile.
Brax let out a delighted laugh and hugged his godfather tightly. A moment later, Lucy joined the hug.
Holly smiled as she watched her former archenemy and her children in their affectionate embrace. To think, they would soon be leaving her.
LINEBREAK
"Mum! MUM!" Brax yelled from the entry hall. "Someone's sent Lucy and I letters! They're some sort of weird paper though; it's really thick and sort of yellow! And the address is really specific! Mine says, 'Mr. T. Hart, Back-Right Bedroom, Number 17 Jupiter Way, Bristol!' Isn't that weird, Mum?"
Holly closed her eyes and sighed silently, but opened them and plastered a confused and slightly alarmed look on her face before Brax entered the room with the letters.
"Have you opened it yet, Brax?" she asked urgently.
"No, Mum," the boy replied, confused.
"We have to be careful. It could be poisoned," Holly pointed out. She knew, of course, that the letters were not poisoned, but Tom had told her about Muggleborn parents who had refused to open any Hogwarts letters due to their specific nature. They had apparently been concerned with the anthrax mailings over in America. It seemed to be a reasonable enough excuse.
Lucy chose that moment to float into the kitchen. Somehow, at age eleven, she had managed a grace and silence in her movements that Holly had only achieved through two years of espionage training.
"What's this about letters?" she asked.
"Someone's sent you and I letters," Brax said. "Yours says 'Miss L. Hart', mine says 'Mr. T. Hart'. I suppose they don't know that I go by my middle name."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"Stay here and don't open those letters," Holly said sternly to her children before marching to the door. She already knew who it was; she and Voldemort had spent six weeks debating through their charmed notebooks on who to send. She flung the door open.
"May I help you?" she asked with an air of false politeness.
"Mrs. Hart, I presume?" the dark-skinned man asked with a charming smile.
"Ms. Hart, actually," Holly replied. "And you are?"
"My apologies. My name is Professor Blaise Zabini. Your children, Thomas and Lucinda, just received letters from my school, Hogwarts."
"Is that where the letters were from? I told them not to open them; I find it highly unusual that a school researches its prospective students well enough to know which bedrooms the students sleep in," Holly said icily.
This was all part of a carefully planned act that she and Voldemort had devised. They had gone over the usual reactions of Muggleborn parents, as well as certain objections she could throw in there to suit her personality, which was, as Voldemort had pointed out, that of a snarling lioness protecting her cubs. Holly had hexed his hair pink for a week before grudgingly agreeing.
"May I come in, Ms. Hart? I'm afraid what I have to say is rather sensitive information," Zabini tried to say.
"Why should I let you anywhere near my children?" Holly challenged, wishing she was taller in order to better intimidate the wizard on her doorstep. Her five foot four height was nothing compared to Zabini's six feet.
"Ms. Hart, I promise you that I am no threat to your children. I am a professor at a school for the gifted, and your children fit our qualifications," he said. "Please, this meeting could determine your children's future."
Holly gave him an apprising stare, before slowly allowing him into the house.
"Before we go any further, you should know that I am a black belt in five forms of martial arts, and I'm the National Champion at knife throwing," Holly said pleasantly as she led her former classmate into the parlor, the most proper room in their eclectic house. She smirked slightly at the barely audible sound of Blaise's gulp.
She saw Blaise looking around the parlor. Everything was clean, of course; the OCD Holly had developed as a child had never truly gone away, and it only got worse when she was stressed. Her children's upcoming departure for Hogwarts was definitely causing her stress. There were family pictures along the mantel while other artwork dotted the walls, mainly done by Nida Rajpur next door. While not a famous artist, the woman was very good at what she did.
"Brax, Lucy, please come to the parlor and bring those letters with you," Holly called.
Her children hurried into the room a moment later, letters clutched tightly in their hands.
"Brax, Lucy, this is Professor Zabini from Hogwarts, the school that sent you those letters," Holly introduced. "Professor Zabini, these are my children, Braxton and Lucy Hart."
"A pleasure to meet you," the children chorused before seating themselves.
Blaise smiled pleasantly.
"I assure you, the pleasure is mine. Now, may I recommend that you open your letters now?"
There was a ripping of parchment from where Brax was sitting, while only the sound of wax being removed from parchment came from Lucy's.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Brax asked in awe.
Holly allowed shock to show on her face.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Lucy asked Blaise.
"No joke, Miss Hart, I assure you," Blaise said.
Holly leaned over Lucy's shoulder in order to read the letter.
The familiar image of the Hogwarts crest was at the top of the letter, with the motto just under it. Aside from the Headmaster's name, there were few differences to her own letter, twenty years before.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Marvolo Slytherin
(Dark Lord Voldemort, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin, Emperor of the Wizarding World, Defense Professor)
Dear Miss Hart,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your reply no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Severus Snape
Deputy Headmaster
Potions Professor
Holly looked up at Blaise.
"What subject do you teach, Professor Zabini?"
"I am the Charms Professor," he replied. "Charms is the most versatile subject at Hogwarts. With Charms, students can make objects fly, change colors, produce light, and so much more," he replied. His passion for his subject was barely hidden behind his smiling Slytherin mask.
"What other subjects are taught at this school?" she asked, her voice still somewhat sharp.
"Our first year mundane-raised students take nine subjects: Charms, Ancient Runes, Defense, Flying, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration, and Wizarding Studies. Magically-raised students take Mundane Studies instead of Wizarding Studies. Flying class is only offered during first year. Starting in third year, students have the option to take other elective courses, such as Arithmancy, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, the Dark Arts, and Ritual Magic. Etiquette is a required course for third year and up. Sixth and seventh years who are advanced enough in the prerequisite courses can take Alchemy, Duelling, and Healing, though the first is rare. The Alchemy Professor usually only has two classes, one for sixth years and one for seventh years," Blaise explained.
"And what do each of these classes entail?" Holly asked.
She noticed Blaise's tense look and inwardly smirked. He would not enjoy the next few hours.
Seven hours later, Blaise had exhaustively described each subject at Hogwarts, each professor and staff member, the school layout, and the grounds. He had also covered the Wizarding government in depth, including but not limited to the Ministry, Lord Voldemort, and the Wizengamot, which had led to detailed descriptions of the Ancient and Noble Houses as well as the different Departments in the Ministry. From there, Holly had moved on to magical creatures, then magical plants, and then the infrastructure of the Wizarding World. They covered transportation, agriculture, culture, and economics. At the two hour mark, Holly had offered lunch, and she had served tea at the five hour mark. By the time she was done, Blaise Zabini was trying and failing to hide exhaustion.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor Zabini," Holly said cheerfully. "I am sure that Brax and Lucy will love Hogwarts. You said that you would come back tomorrow to escort us to get the twins' school supplies?"
She saw him try to resist a shudder.
"Ah, I'm afraid I have an appointment tomorrow that I may not be able to get out of, but rest assured, I will make sure that one of the professors comes to take you to Diagon Alley," he lied. "Have a pleasant evening."
"And you!" Holly said cheerfully, shutting the door behind him as he hurried out of the house.
That night, there was a new message in the charmed notebook that Voldemort used to communicate with her.
"You broke my Charms Professor," he wrote. "He's refusing to return to your house under any circumstances. What did you do?"
"Seven hours of questions about the Wizarding World. Now I have reasons for any knowledge I might have, though I'll be buying books tomorrow to cover the rest of it. Who do I get to tor- I mean, travel with, tomorrow?" she asked.
"Wait and see," he replied.
She chuckled and went to bed.
September 1 came sooner than she expected. She walked through King's Cross Station with the twins, both of their trunks stacked on the trolley in front of her, both chattering animatedly about their upcoming 'adventure'. Each held a cage holding a snowy owl: twins, which was apparently even more a rarity in owls than in humans. Voldemort had told her that the twin owls were actually the great-grandchildren of Valerie's beloved Hedwig, who had ended up living with Voldemort for the rest of her natural life after Valerie's disappearance.
"What's the platform number again?" Holly asked, remembering a red-haired woman asking the same question her own first year.
"Nine and Three-Quarters," Brax said.
"Professor Zabini said that we simply walk through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. We haven't even started yet, and there's already magic!" Lucy said excitedly.
Holly smiled at her children's antics, watching as they held hands to step through the barrier. She did not have to run as they did, knowing full well that she would make it through to the other side.
Before her stood the familiar scarlet engine that had faithfully borne her to Hogwarts those many years ago. She sighed wistfully, glad that it was muffled in the hustle and bustle of parents saying goodbye to their children.
Soon enough, her children were tugging at her, and she was helping them load their trunks onto the train. Before they could leave, Holly pulled them both into a tight embrace.
"No matter what happens at this magic school of yours," she whispered to them, "I will always be your mother and I will always love you. Nothing can change that. Yes, I will worry about you, and yes, you will probably scare me at some point, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know. I love you and I want to know that you're doing well. I want to know the ups and the downs, the twists and the turns, and everything else that happens in your lives. I expect letters at least once a week, and I always want you to remember that I love you very much."
She kissed each of them on the forehead, resting a hand on Lucy's cheek and smoothing back Brax's hair.
"We love you too, Mum," they said in unison. Each kissed one of her cheeks.
Just then, the whistle on the train blew.
"We'll see you at Christmas, Mum!" Brax yelled as they got onto the train.
"Goodbye!" Lucy yelled as well, waving merrily from the window of their compartment.
"Goodbye!" Holly called back, raising her hand in farewell.
She ran alongside the train until it reached the end of the platform, and continued waving until the train was out of sight. With a sigh, she put her hands down.
From behind her, a familiar voice said, "It's hard, isn't it?"
"Of course it is," Holly replied. "They're my children."
Tom stepped up beside her, looking off into the distance towards the last place the Hogwarts Express was seen.
"I'll protect them," he stated.
"You'd better," Holly replied, a hint of the war general she'd once been in her voice. "Else I get my magic back, and you're my first target after rescuing them."
"I shudder at the thought," Tom replied.
They stood there in silence for a moment.
"Do you want to go drown our sorrows in ice cream?" he asked.
She gave him a sideways glance.
"Don't you have a school to run? And what sorrows do you have?"
"They won't arrive for a few hours yet, and their arrival is my sorrow. So, ice cream?"
Holly thought a moment.
"Sure."
That night, the notebook had a new message.
"I owe you a hundred galleons."
Valerie laughed before going to sleep.
Author's Note Two: If you don't understand the last few lines, go back to when Valerie is giving birth. :) Also, as to Valerie's name, I did not want to name her after a flower, because while it makes sense based on all the flower names in the books (Lily, Petunia, Pansy, Lavender, etc.) it is very overused. Valerie comes from the Latin valere, which means "to be strong". Harry/Valerie is an incredibly strong person, and I feel that James and Lily would have wanted their child to be strong, especially with such a prophecy hanging over them. As to Valerie, Voldemort, and the Prophecy...they're basically just ignoring. They swore an oath not to hurt each other, so they're circumventing the "neither can live while the other survives" bit by both living instead of just surviving through a war.