Family Ties

Prologue

The Arrival

"Although I was put into Gryffindor I never really understood why. My family had been sorted into Ravenclaw for generations but somehow I was the first in a long line to don gold and scarlet. That night changed everything though. Many would say I must have been mad to agree to it and my family was certainly no exception. I did what I did though and I never regretted it. To this day she will always be my daughter no matter where she came from and that's the truth plain and simple."

Extract from an interview with Mary O'Shea nee MacDonald

June the 4th 1997 Daily Prophet

August 30th 1979

"Brian! Brian, either turn that bleedin' racket down or I'll blow it up myself!"

The door slammed shut and a shaken young woman curled her hands into fists as she leaned against the wooden frame for support. Downstairs there was an audible change in volume as the sounds of 'My Sharona' died down shrouding the attic into silence. Outside the steady tattoo of rain smashing off window panes accompanied by the roaring sound of the winds howl beat frantically at the old Victorian farmhouse.

Turning around the woman released a long sigh before taking a deep breath in. Tonight the hours seemed to drag out gradually with minutes fading into hours and hours seeming like lifetimes. Each little disturbance from downstairs; each raised voice, each creaking footstep had her heart on edge and her body tensed. Was this it? Had the time finally arrived? Had they arrived now? Her mind lured her into false traps setting up snares in her thought patterns that she often fell into.

Mary Macdonald was at heart a very practical person and sensible person although a lot of things in her life made absolutely no sense at all. The Macdonald's were well known in the farming community of rural Ireland. There had always been a Macdonald at Blackburrie farm for generations going back to time immemorial. Good people, good farmers, salt of the earth, never a bad thing to say about a Macdonald. Upstanding members of the community in every single way possible. Very rich to be wealthy enough to send all their children to boarding school.

Of course this was all a lie, an illusion they had maintained for centuries. The Macdonald's were good farmers and good people in general but they were also excellent wizards too. Mary Macdonald and her six other brothers and sisters did not attend St Andrew's grammar school in Dublin as most people thought. Instead they attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Or at least Mary had done until she had left Hogwarts last summer.

However right now Mary's normally logical and rational mind was rapidly rebelling and the coils of propriety were slipping loose causing her to freefall into distress. She collapsed wearily into an old battered armchair and hugged her knees up to her chin. Her stomach was lurching and more than once she had resisted the urge to vomit. She couldn't trust herself around her relatives afraid she may blurt out the truth or hex their brains apart. Where was the famous Gryffindor courage now? Mary bitterly wished she could find it because right now she felt more like jumping out the window.

'How did I get myself into this?' Forget second thoughts and try millionth thoughts. Mary had scrutinized this problem for each and every angle. The obvious conclusion was that this was not her mess and that her friend should bloody well learn to clean up from her own mistakes. However in one mad moment of impulse Mary had uttered that fateful suggestion. It had all seemed so rational at the time - everybody got what they wanted with no horrendous ordeal on either side.

There was a violent clap of thunder followed by a white hot fork of lightening that illuminated the dim attic in a flash of light. The shadowy corners, the dust ridden boxes of old family junk and the occasional piece of furniture. Mary shivered; it was cold and draughty up here and she wished she could be downstairs with the rest of her family crowded in Brian's bedroom watching Top of the Pops.

With times being what they were Mary's parents had insisted that the entire family remain grounded in their farmhouse manor. There was more than enough room for everyone - Grandparents, about a dozen cousin's and some of her siblings. After about a week or so of confinement and at least twelve angry arguments over 'who's turn it was In the bathroom?' or 'It's my turn with the telly!' and the novelty wore off rapidly.

Little did they all know that their menagerie of twenty would soon gain another.

Mary's heart gave another nerve-breaking lurch as she heard heavy footsteps climb the stairs. The door swung open but instead of who she expected she was instead greeted with the amiable figure of her older brother Hamish. A ruddy red faced man in his early twenties with twinkling brown eyes and floppy chestnut hair. He was dressed in a checked shirt and loosely fitting trousers tucked into a pair of solid Wellington Boots. He smelled of horses and manure - obviously he had just came from the barn.

"Just seen Brian on the landing. Say's you're being a right grumpy cow." Hamish said idly stepping over the threshold carelessly not giving his young sister's glare any heed. "We all know something's bothering you Mary. Christ the whole house knows thanks to your bloody awful temper! Our Kathy's still snarling over what you did with her Tracy's dolly."

"Bugger off Ham!" Mary snapped viciously. She couldn't give a toss about her sister Katherine or her nieces stupid dolly with the annoying voice that wouldn't shut up after you pushed the damn button on it's chest. Couldn't they all take the hint and leave her alone? None of them understood and she couldn't talk to anyone about it. It felt like she was carrying a contagious disease and she couldn't touch anyone encase she infected them.

"Aye that's what I'm talking about," said Hamish taking a cigarette from his pocket. Taking a draught, the foul stench of smoke curdled through the air. "You know yer' no the only one that's on edge. We should be thinking ourselves lucky. I mean look at old Willie Fawcett. Wrong place, wrong time poor bastard."

"It's not about that! Not everything revolves around Death Eaters Ham! Some of us have other problems too!" Growled Mary. It seemed everything did though. Every single headline in the newspaper, every single muffled whisper on the street. A rumour, a missing person, the obituary page getting longer and longer each week. William Fawcett had been the uncle of one of her best friends Victoria and an old friend of her Grandfathers.

"Yeah? Well your stupid amateur girly problems seem a pretty poor comparison. Wake up and stop being such a selfish mare Mary! Not everything revolves around you!" Hamish shot back at her. "I mean we never know who's going to be next so the least you could do is pretend that you care!"

"Of course I care!" Raged Mary furiously, her eyes glittering formidably as she rounded on her brother. "Don't you dare accuse me of being selfish! You have no idea Hamish, none at all so why don't you bugger off downstairs and play happy families!"

"No idea? No idea about what! You spend half your time either up here or with Lily Evans! Her relationship issues are not the end of the world Mary!" Shouted Hamish. "I saw her swanning around outsides St Mungo's earlier. Is that it? Has James knocked her up or something? Why don't you talk Mary? At least to Mum cause your worrying her sick!" Before Hamish could realise what was about to happen there was a loud resounding crack that echoed off the dusty wooden walls. Mary's hand slapped him squarely around the cheek, the force leaving a red imprint.

"Shut the hell up!" Mary snarled brutally. Something inside her snapped and she couldn't suppress the frustration or anxiety that had been steadily building up for six months. Tears leaked down her cheeks and before Hamish could stop her she had already stormed out of the attic. Wiping her eyes exasperatedly she felt angry at herself for the mess she had drawn herself into. Bypassing the bedroom the theme tune to Coronation Street drifted after her. She needed a drink. She needed to do something. Anything to keep herself sane while she waited.

"Oh if it isn't Miss Sunshine herself." Sneered a thin auburn haired woman as Mary marched into the kitchen. Authentic wooden beams wound into the ceiling while a large dining table took up most of the space. Painted yellow walls combined with the warm glow from the fireplace created a warm atmosphere which was currently being frozen by the tension in the air between the two women. Katherine Douglas was Mary's oldest sister and currently she was nursing her precious three year old angel incarnate Tracy.

Mary didn't trust herself to answer and she snatched a mug roughly from the cupboard and waved her wand effortlessly boiling the water in the kettle. They did have a few house-elf's but Mary prepared to make tea for herself as it gave herself something to do, another focus for her mind. Once she was done she dragged out a chair and summoned a glass of whiskey adding liberal amounts to her tea. Katherine watched incredulously as her younger sister downed the mug in a single gulp.

"Mary…what the hell is wrong with you? You shouldn't drink that much in one gulp you complete moron!" Katherine protested grabbing the flask of whiskey away. Setting Tracy on the floor she ruffled the little girls brown curls before slipping into a seat next to her sister.

"What are you? My mother? I'm twenty years old." Mary said sarcastically.

The strong flavour of whiskey burned her throat but it settled some of her nerves. She raked a hand through her raven locks Mary closed her eyes and sighed deeply. It couldn't be much longer now. She had everything prepared in her head. What she was going to tell her parents. How she was going to go about everything. They would be fine with it. Once they recovered from the shock. It was a big family so what was one more member? Everything would be fine…right? It had to be. It just had to be.

"You know what? I give up Mary. I really do." Katherine said wearily as she stood up. Mary barely noticed as the door shutting announcing her sister's departure. There was an immense relief in once more having peace to organise her thoughts. The clock on the mantelpiece above the dying flames ticked away each and every second. Minutes came and went and by the by Mary sat listening and waiting with every fibre of her being.

Finally though, the moment came when she heard the faint tap at the door. With a deep breath and trembling finger she turned the brass knob and opened the door. A cold blast of air entered the house brining in the rain and hail. A shadowy figure stood at the threshold with a bundle in it's arms and a long black cloak billowing out behind them. Red puffy eyes looked beseechingly into Mary's own brown ones. Those eyes were full of desperation and an emotion that was beyond compulsion.

"Please…Mary…please…"

Mary swallowed. Her throat was still dry and she was starting to shiver as cold chills ran down her spine. Nodding shakily she outstretched her arms and felt something precious being handed to her. It was warm sheltered from the cold by a thick soft blanket protecting delicate fragile skin. The figure smiled but it was not a happy smile, it was a tearful agonised one of somebody forcing themselves to make the best of a dire situation.

Mary couldn't find the right words to say. Had it been painful? Of course it had been painful. Did she have to go through it alone? No, her mother had been there with her. In truth there was little left to say and yet there was so much. Mary rocked the bundle gently and uncertainly before her sharp brown eyes caught sight of silken pink embroidery on the corner of the midnight blue blanket.

"R?" Mary murmured numbly. The woman nodded choking back a sob.

"Y-Yes…R…her name is Rosemary. I-I always…liked that name…and…it's got you in it too." The woman stammered. There was a movement behind her of another older woman who also had tears in her mossy green eyes. The younger woman leaned against this person as though she were the rock amongst the thrashing ocean.

"Come on now…" The older woman said gently. "It's time to go home…"

When they did eventually leave Mary stared down at the little baby. It's skin was pink and wrinkled and it's eyes were shut tightly. She'd seen so many babies before in her life but this one was different. This little baby would change her life forever and Mary could scarcely believe it had happened. Months of waiting and in just a few mere fleeting moments it had transpired. Mary wasn't entirely sure what she had expected but this felt strange. In a trance she sat down at the kitchen table listening to the sound of thunder and lightening crashing outside. An hour came and went before the kitchen door was propelled open by an overexcited preteen with baggy trousers and scruffy chestnut hair.

"Mary! Mary you won't believe it but they're showing more Top of the Pops! Mary? Mary what's that in your hands?"

Mary turned to look at her younger brother and she a sob climb up her throat. Unable to contain it any longer the tears started flooding her face but she managed to smile waveringly at the enquiring and bemused stare.

"T-This is Rosemary, Brian…and she's mine…"

I watched Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and it inspired me to re-edit a few of my chapters for this fiction and to update it. I hope it gets a few reviews and I hope Rosemary doesn't seem like a Mary-Sue or this whole story line a big cliche.

R&R

Daydreamer!x