Disclaimer: I own nothing of JK Rowling's work.
The troll had been cause for concern - especially for the Slytherins, whose dorm was in the dungeons where the beast was supposedly found. The death of a professor, however, at the wraith-like hands of He-who-must-not-be-named? That almost brought about a panic.
It took several minutes to calm the students down. Over the shouts for calm from the remaining professors, almost no one noticed Professor Sprout leading Marigold Potter out of the great hall. When Hagrid finally reported that the troll had been found and contained on the third floor, the students were dismissed back to their rooms.
Professor McGonagall left the prefects in charge of her Gryffindors before she too went to leave the great hall. Hermione Granger moved to follow close behind. The Deputy Headmistress turned when she saw the girl behind her, but kept moving.
"Miss Granger…" she began.
"Marigold is my friend." said Hermione. The professor sighed, and then nodded. She knew how dearly both girls needed friends, as both had had a difficult time adjusting.
"Follow me, then."
oOoOoOoOo
From the Daily Prophet, 1 November 1981, Special Edition
You-Know-Who Defeated!
3 Dead in Attack - 15 Month Old Only Survivor
Dark Lord Slain by Own Killing Curse
Representatives from the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have confirmed that the Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort was slain in Godric's Hollow last evening. You-Know-Who died during an attack on the home of Auror James Potter, 21, Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter and a prominent opponent of the Dark Lord's terrorist group.
Lord Potter was killed by You-Know-Who while defending his wife, Lily Potter, 21, and his twin children, Marigold and Harry, 15 months. Lady Potter retreated to the children's bedroom, where she was felled by the Dark Lord's killing curse. His opponents defeated, You-Know-Who turned his wand on the children in their cots. His inexplicable cruelty was soon repaid in full, however.
For reasons unknown, You-Know-Who attacked young Marigold Lily Potter with the killing curse. A source in the DMLE, speaking on condition of anonymity, reports that the curse rebounded violently and struck the Dark Lord himself. You-Know-Who, unable to contain the backlash of his own magic, exploded in a blast of energy. The walls and ceiling of the upstairs bedroom were damaged in the blast, and both children were injured by the debris. While Marigold was protected by the partially collapsed cot, her brother was not as fortunate.
Authorities report with sadness that Harry James Potter died of his injuries shortly after the explosion. Sirius Black, the boy's godfather and one of the DMLE's hitwizards, arrived on scene within moments of the explosion, just in time to hold the boy as he passed. Authorities believe the home was under a Fidelius charm, though the identity of the secret keeper (and the Potters' betrayer) is unclear as of this writing.
Marigold Lily Potter, now Heiress to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, was taken to an undisclosed location for the treatment of her injuries. Apart from minor cuts and bruises from debris, the Girl-Who-Lived also seemed to have a curse wound where the killing curse struck her forehead.
A source in the Department of Mysteries refused to comment on the events of last evening, but did confirm that, in all our records, there has never been a witch or wizard who survived a direct hit by the killing curse.
Continued on Page 3…
oOoOoOoOo
When she entered the Hospital Wing, Hermione saw Marigold Potter sitting by herself in one of the infirmary beds. The girl was hugging her knees to her chest and rocking softly back and forth. Her eyes were closed, but the pain on her face was obvious.
Professor McGonagall walked over to Madam Pomfrey, who led the Deputy Headmistress into her office. Hermione carried a chair over to the side of Marigold's bed, and sat down. She said nothing. After a moment, Marigold sighed, then glanced over, before closing her eyes once more.
"It's happening again, Hermione." Marigold said, simply.
Despite herself, Hermione shook her head. "You did nothing wrong."
"Pull the other one, it's got bells on." was the sad reply. "If I hadn't done anything, that man would still be alive." She opened her eyes, looking at Hermione. "I've done it again."
"He'd still be alive with an dark spirit under his bloody turban, Mari!" Then Hermione processed her friend's last remark. "What do you mean, again?"
Marigold sighed. "I've never lived anywhere without someone dying because of me. I can't do this again, Hermione." Her voice was a whisper, and Hermione could see how much was left unsaid.
She placed her hand on Marigold's, and winced when she saw the red-haired girl tense at the contact. "You're not a killer, Marigold Potter."
A weary chuckle was her answer. "You don't know me." Her eyes closed again. "You shouldn't know me."
Her head shook again. "I know enough. And I know that you're not alone."
They sat quietly for a few minutes. Hermione could see Marigold trying to gather her thoughts. There was no need to push her, no need for answers this night. But eventually, to Hermione's surprise, Marigold broke the silence.
"James Potter."
Hermione looked up. "What?"
Marigold continued. "Lily Potter. Timothy Crawford. Quirinus Quirrell." Then another soft sigh. "Harry Potter."
Harry Potter… Oh Marigold no…
"My parents died protecting me when I was a baby." Her voice was barely audible, and Hermione leaned in to listen. Her hand remained on Marigold's. "My brother died when the ceiling collapsed. All three died because a dark wizard tried to murder a baby."
"Then I lived with my aunt and uncle." The venom in Marigold's voice was clear. "Their son, my cousin, would get bored during the summers. His favorite sport was ginger-hunting. He'd hide out with his gang and wait for me. If they caught me, I'd have a fight on my hands. If they didn't, he'd get me in trouble at home and I'd have a fight there against my whale of an uncle."
"One summer, they waited for me at the library. They had caught me there before, so this time I escaped out the back. I was already across the street when they saw me. There were five of them, including a boy named Timothy."
Hermione saw a tear roll down the girl's face. Her voice remained steady, as if it would only break if she stopped telling the tale.
"Dudley and his friends were going to chase me, they shouted their threats at me, even in public. There was a lorry coming down the street. I had seen it, but knew I had enough time to beat it. By the time they got to the edge of the road, it was too close. Four of them realized that and waited. Tim didn't."
"I hadn't stopped to see if they chased me, I just ran. I learned that lesson early. So by the time I got home, word had already gotten to the Dursleys that one of their son's friends had been killed." She shook her head sadly, wiping away another tear. "I didn't even see it happen and it was my fault. I think that was the worst beating I ever had to take."
Hermione squeezed Marigold's hand, not knowing what else to do. "It sounds like you didn't have an easy go of things." It sounds like your family was full of monsters, thought Hermione, but now was not the time. She set aside her anger on her friend's behalf, promising herself that she would do something.
Marigold nodded at the comment. "It wasn't. The only real hope I had was that someone was with me, protecting me. When I was little I thought it might be my parents, or an angel or something, but there are no angels in that house. Later I realized that it was Harry. And the thought of him watching over me, making sure I wasn't alone… Hermione, that's about the only thing that kept me sane."
"And then I got my Hogwarts letter. And suddenly I was in a world of literal magic, where I was not a dirt poor orphan but the daughter of nobility." She grinned, despite the emotion in her voice. "I wasn't alone. I was a witch. Not a freak."
Another sigh. "And now another person is dead, because of me. Hermione, how can they keep me here when I turned a professor to ash?"
Hermione leaned forward, her other arm on the side of the bed. "None of those deaths are on you, Marigold Potter. None of them."
"You don't know that," Marigold said again.
"But I do."
Both girls looked up to see Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, listening quietly. Hermione saw the moisture on the professor's cheeks, and realized what it meant. How much had they heard?
"Miss Granger, I believe it is approaching curfew. Miss Potter will need her rest." The Deputy Headmistress spoke softly, the edge gone from her voice. "You may sit with her for a few more minutes, and then I will escort you back to the tower."
Marigold and Hermione looked at each other, then at the professor. "Yes, Professor." said Hermione.
After a long hug and a promise to talk in the morning, Hermione left Marigold with Madam Pomfrey, who already had a potion ready to help her sleep. In the corridor, Hermione found Professor McGonagall waiting for her. They began walking back to Gryffindor Tower.
Without preamble, Hermione looked up at her head of house. "You're going to fix it, right?"
Minerva's heart was still breaking for the Potter girl. But decisions about the home lives of her students were not hers to make, even if changes were sorely necessary. And if even half of Miss Potter's story was true, changes were indeed necessary. Knowing that and convincing Dumbledore of that were two very different things, however. So Minerva McGonagall, knowing how hollow the words would sound to this determined girl, gave the only answer she could.
"We will do what we can."
Hermione knew a brush off when she heard it. Her teachers had made similar noises when she reported bullying in her previous schools, at least until she stopped bothering. She was surprised to learn how similar the magical and muggle worlds actually were.
"In a muggle school," Hermione said, "That girl would be meeting with a psychologist. She would be getting therapy of some type. Maybe all the therapy."
The Professor looked thoughtful. "Even if we cannot - yet - change conditions in Miss Potter's home life, perhaps a mind healer would not be out of the question." They approached the Fat Lady's painting, and with it the entrance to the Gryffindor dorms.
"Marigold is my friend, Professor. Don't promise that if you can't make it happen," Hermione said coldly, before turning to the painting. "Pig Snout!" she snapped. Hearing the password, the painting began to open.
"Marigold needs help. You, Professor, are her head of house. The task falls to you." With that, Hermione left her Head of House and entered the common room.
Several minutes passed before Minerva McGonagall began the walk back to the Headmaster's office.
A/N: Thank you for the kind thoughts and support. As with many of my stories, this began as a drabble that quickly grew out of control. It's not going to be five parallel versions of the stations of canon, and we've already deviated a little in the case of both Marigold's and Rose's worlds (Not to mention Heir Potter, who grew up with both Prongs and Uncle Padfoot close at hand). Rather, I hope to make this into some sort of character study. We have five very different versions of the child-who-lived, each with their own history and troubles. Yet, as they have recently learned, they are not alone. Of course, with five versions of Harry Potter, we also get five different Hermiones - some of whom will be closer to their Harry analogue than others.
I'm also going to write this as one story - if I've done it correctly, you will not need a flow chart to understand what is happening, nor where or to whom it is happening. It should be pretty clear which Harry's world we're peeking into, but I will try to be as unsubtle as possible about setting the scene.
Feedback is always welcome. Thanks again for reading.
A/N 2: Edited 25 November 2018 to add Section Divisions in line with future chapters
