Summary:- A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes. The weaves of fate shift and a new web is woven as Voldemort has more than one plan to conquer the Wizarding World resulting in far reaching unforeseen consequences. Years later Holly Potter unearths a family secret that sets her on a path that will change everything, as she learns there is no escaping fate when fate is the beat of war drums. So begins a ruthless game of politics and intrigue, magic and betrayal, and the prize and the prize more terrible than imagined.
A/N:- I started a couple of stories a few years ago, Daughter of the Blood and A Song of Death and Magic, which I have recently taken down. I stopped writing the stories when I was first diagnosed with my medical condition and when I was finally in a position to return to them I had lost the voice and feel for the particular stories, however I still wanted to write them I wasn't just sure how. This story Daughter of the Magic is a rewrite of the stories I wanted to tell by combing them. The themes, and ideas and overall goal is still the same but the execution of the story has changed a lot. For those of you have read my previous work I hope you are able to enjoy this new version of those stories, and for those who are coming to it new I hope you enjoy it.
This story is AU and will have a female Harry and even following the line of a possible another Boy-Who-Lived element as well. Whether it is the wrong one or not will be revealed over time. I quite like WBWL stories so long as they are written well. There will be many elements that I am exploring, some of them perhaps considered a little cliché but I hope you still give them a chance.
This story will have a spin of Brian Lumley's Necroscope series, and while it will contain some crossover elements it doesn't properly fall into a crossover story as I hopefully do something a little different. It will also have a take of 'Man in a High Castle' by Phillip K. Dick and The Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop. You don't have to read any of the series as things will be explained over time and while it will have a spin in a Harry world, it won't be exactly the same.
Another story that has influenced this story is called Keogh by ChelleyBean - its Hermione centric and is the only other story I have come across that uses Brian Lumley's works. Along with other WBWL stories I have read over the years. Other inspiration has been taken from mythology, Game of Thrones, Sarah J Maas, Ilona Andrews, Merlin, Maria V Snyder, Jay Kristoff - and many, many others.
Warnings:- I am rating this story mature for violence and horror elements, language and dark elements that can be found in the story. There will be romance in the future and it won't be anything more than teenage crushes as they may or may not develop until at least fifth year if not later. This will be a Female Harry/Tom Riddle Romance in the future.
Disclaimer:- I don't own anything, J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter along with Warner Brothers owning what rights they have and Necroscope belongs to Brian Lumley, Phillip. K Dick owns Man in a High Castle and Anne Bishop owns The Black Jewels Trilogy. I am just using their playground.
Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
XXX
Chapter 1:-
The first thing one noticed about Privet Drive was how unremarkable the street was. Uniformed houses on either side of the road with neatly trimmed lawns and lush flower beds and shining brass door numbers, and not a single thing that represented uniqueness or different.
Dull, ordinary, unremarkable.
Minerva shuddered at the thought as she walked up the street towards the house, carefully checking the letter in her hand that she had the right number. She had barely had a minute to breathe between term ending and needing to get the letters out for the new school year. Already she was mentally checking the names of the students that she had enrolled into the Summer School program that the Ministry now demanded all those Muggle-raised attend, ensuring she hadn't missed anyone. With only a few days to spare before it was due to start, she was cutting it fine with her final home visit. Even so, she should have had the number for the house memorised, after all, Minerva was no stranger to the Muggle world, her position giving her plenty of opportunities to interact with the families of the muggle-born students. Minerva had lost count at the number of young witches and wizards she had introduced to magic over the years. But never in all her years had she been around somewhere where everything was of such a regiment design and that included the time where she visited Catterick Garrison. The world was pale without the shine of magic that marked Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and other magical areas. There was an extra depth to the colours, hum to the sounds and buzz of life as magic pulsed within that Privet Drive didn't have. Perhaps she was too harsh, seeing the outside shell and not seeing the inner beauty. But one thing Minerva was sure of was that it was incredibly hard to imagine a young witch living somewhere so unremarkable and being happy, free or relaxed.
But then she would reserve judgement for the time being until she met Holly Potter.
Minerva raised her hand to knock on the door, absently wondering just what she would find on the other side. The door opened almost at once. The girl was a skinny little thing. You're being unkind, Minerva corrected herself; but she was small for her age, too small if she was being honest and she couldn't ignore that. Minerva found her voice had deserted her. She could only stare. She looked like James, with that unruly black hair that seemed to kink itself into natural waves at a longer length, but it was her eyes that made her heart jump into her throat. Her eyes were the same shade of Lily's as Minerva had last seen them. They looked older, though. Older than a child should have.
"Can I help you?"
She wasn't rude. But her voice held a note of indifference to it, stating she didn't really care one way or the other and she was only asking because that was what one was supposed to do.
Minerva couldn't help but wonder what kind of life the girl had had. Old anger and doubts made her voice probably sharper than it should have been, deep down she knew it wasn't the girl's fault. Merlin knew she had received the short end of the stick when push came to shove in the whole affair. Everything had worked out so unfairly. But then life was prone to do that, no matter how loudly one cursed at the injustice of such things.
"My name is Professor McGonagall, Deputy Head Mistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As your family are already aware of our world, you probably know all about magic. Still, as you have grown up in a Muggle family, it is required you receive a home visit and introduction to the Wizarding World, along with an appropriate guide to Diagon Alley."
The girl stared at her blankly, her face void of any emotion, that would indicate what she was thinking. It was a look that it seemed she had perfected to a fine art.
Or not.
Her lips twitched into a grin, and for a split moment, she was taken back to James when he had just pulled a prank, or found something funny or was playing Quidditch. Minerva noted the grin didn't quite reach her eyes, and the coldness was still there burning away accusingly at her.
It was unnerving.
"Oh, they are going to love you," the girl stated, and despite the grin, there was nothing humorous about her statement. Just a declaration that made Minerva frown. As much as she looked like her father, with her mother's eyes, James hadn't had the wary cold gaze; neither had Lily come to think about it. Or the pale skin.
Minerva swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. Her instincts in dealing with children kicking in, something was wrong here. She couldn't quite place her finger on it.
"I suppose your aunt and uncle explained everything to you?" Minerva voiced it as a question, not expecting an answer.
The girl snorted, "Explained what exactly."
It wasn't a question more a statement. As Holly - and she must be Holly, although so unlike how she had ever imagined a child of Lily and James to be - turned and stared back into the house with a look that could Minerva could only describe as unsurprised. Minerva stared at the girl; her parents would be outraged at such a thought, Holly, seemed disinterested in the discovery that they had kept something from her and equally unsurprised in the realisation that they were keeping something from her. Minerva raised her wand just as a large man charged in from another room. Minerva warned herself to be careful; she didn't want to give him a heart attack.
But then the man roared at Holly, "Who is this?" his gaze went to Minerva's robes before he straightened up and yelled, "FREAK!"
Minerva winced inwardly, pushed down the urge to curse him into oblivion or change him into the walrus he already looked like and waved her wand at an ugly patterned vase standing on a shelf instead. The vase shimmered and warped and struggled for a moment visibly vibrating before shifting, rippling and swirling until a black raven perched on the shelf, feathers ruffling as wings stretched out. The man shut up quicker than Minerva thought possible, and she couldn't help but smile. She found that a bit of unexpected magic was almost always efficient at doing that. Minerva glanced down at Holly, who was watching with amusement. Minerva frowned, that was hardly the response she had been expecting. Yes, the girl didn't look frightened, which is what she was half expecting due to her apparent total ignorance about things that should have been her rightful heritage. But amusement was not it. Though the closer Minerva looked, the more she could see it wasn't just amusement. It was understanding dawning in those green eyes. Something clicking into place and glee was beginning to shine through brightly.
It was the first warming emotion she had seen cross those emerald green eyes since she had knocked on the door.
"Now, as I was explaining to your niece, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I have come to give Holly her acceptance letter and take her to Diagon Alley, considering her unusual circumstances. However it appears I clearly must explain magic to her, the war and who her parents are."
"She will not be going," a woman stated. Minerva turned to see an incredibly thin woman, with a long neck standing behind the man. She had known Lily had a sister, but no resemblance was visible between the two women.
"We swore when we took her in; we'd put a stop to that rubbish, that freaky... aberration," The woman continued, her words dripping with bitterness.
Minerva found that her voice had failed her once again. But rather than shock causing her silence, anger silently flared to life inside of her. How dare the vile woman.
She dared a glance at Holly.
The girl's face had smoothed over to disinterest again, though there was a hardness in those green eyes that were like ice. Minerva could almost feel the cold and magic radiating from her.
"You knew!" the girl stated, her tone was calm. Too calm under the circumstances if truth be told.
Lily's sister flinched visibly at the statement. Before she turned to face her niece, "Knew," the woman sniped, "How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got her letter just like that and disappeared off to that - that school - and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak!"
The woman only paused for air, before swiftly carrying on with venom lacing every word. She was intending to hurt, knew precisely where to land the blows as if she had prepared for this for the last ten years. Minerva waved her wand, non-verbally casting the Silencing Charm. The woman opened her mouth multiple times, but no sound came out. A look of fear twisted her face as panic flickered in her eyes. She could see her almost beginning to silently gasp for air as she attempted to make some form of sound.
"I think we have heard quite enough from you," she said firmly, throwing her a look she had used over the years with students incapable of behaving if you are going to act like a child, I will treat you like one.
"I will be taking your niece to buy her school things now. She will not be returning until this evening where I will be accompanying her."
She looked at Holly, who turned her gaze to meet her own. She could see the anger swirling behind them, along with amusement and joy. The girl gave a small smile, and Minerva could perhaps find it in herself to forgive herself for stooping to their level as she returned it with one of her own.
XXX
Holly sat opposite Professor McGonagall, back straight and unmoving. Having learnt long ago that 'little girls should be seen and not heard and it was preferable if she weren't seen either' she had learnt to sit still. Determined not to draw attention to herself, learnt to move unseen. But just because her body was still didn't mean her thoughts weren't spinning, though Holly made sure her face was as blank as she could make it. When she had awoken earlier that morning, Holly had not anticipated her day going from ordinary to extraordinary quicker than…waving a wand.
But it had done just that, and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
Holly had always known she was different and not merely because her family told her every day. Despite what a great many thought she wasn't unintelligent, just incredibly good at ensuring not drawing attention her way. Holly always made sure she was a point or two under Dudley, despite knowing the answers on school tests. Holly knew she was responsible for all the strange things that happened around her, and then there were the cold spots, in the back of her mind that made her shiver and the hair on her arms stand to attention. Holly could almost swear she could hear voices though they sounded far too distant her to make out. As if she was missing something without really realising what she was missing. Holly had never been able to find out what it was she did or understand how she made such strange things happen.
Until now.
Magic though explained everything.
Explained why she was different. It didn't seem possible, and yet Professor McGonagall had turned a vase into a bird and had managed to silence her aunt half-way through her rant. Something Holly hadn't thought possible before. The fact they had known was of little surprise to her. It explained why they disliked her so much, why they were afraid. She didn't fit into their ordinary view of the world or the neat and boring box they tried to shoehorn her into every day.
She was a freak an aberration as her aunt liked to throw around more often or not.
Holly had come to the conclusion she much preferred it that way, better to be an aberration than anything like her family.
She observed Professor McGonagall silently behind the rim of her goblet as she sipped her pumpkin juice. She wasn't sure she liked it, but it was her first official taste of the magical world so Holly was determined she would enjoy it regardless of whether she would ever have it again. Professor McGonagall wore a dark forest green robe, and her black hair tied neatly up in a bun. She had a stern face, but her eyes held warmth in them Holly rarely saw in adults. At least not directed at her. Holly got the impression she was not a person she wanted to cross, and it was clear she did not tolerate fools.
"I am certain you have questions," Professor McGonagall said softly. Despite the noise of the pub, Holly could still hear her.
Too many, she silently agreed.
"Why can't I do magic as you can?"
A small smile crept across the woman's lips. "Because you don't have a wand or the right training. Everyone needs to learn, magic is an innate ability Miss Potter, but it is one that must be honed, nourished and allowed to grow. Hogwarts gives you that training, that skill to perform magic as I did, and more besides. Children without training have incidents known as accidental magic."
"I turned my teacher's hair blue, and I can make toys move. And I brought dustbins to life, they tried to eat one of the boys from school though," Holly admitted, choosing to mention only a few incidents that had happened. "How long? How long will it be able to take me to do what you did?"
There was a glint of amusement in the Professor's eyes as she responded, "One might say all your life, you can learn something new every day, but officially your time at Hogwarts last seven years. Certain professions require more training certainly, but a standard education is seven years."
"Seven years and I will be able to turn vases into animals?" Holly quizzed, as she took another sip of her juice.
"That altogether depends on you; Transfiguration is a complex art and one not easily mastered. If you work at it then yes, you will be able to turn vases into animals. But like all things you must work at it," she paused, holding her gaze firmly, "though I should warn you, you are not to perform magic in front of muggles. There are strict laws we must abide by, your aunt and uncle are an unusual case as they already knew about magic."
Holly tilted her head slightly, before nodding once. She could understand that at least. It was logical.
"You mentioned my parents, a war. What happened?" she asked, absently gnawing at her bottom lip, before stopping herself.
Professor McGonagall sighed softly, her eyes looking at her with an emotion that wasn't quite pity or sadness, but more an understanding.
"There was a war that began when your parents were still young and in school," Professor McGonagall said at last. "There was a Dark Lord - a particularly vicious wizard who believed it his right to rule us. He gathered to him those who believed in his ideals, his vision, and his dream. They felt they were superior to all other wizards and witches. According to him, muggles or muggle-borns -"
"What are they?" Holly asked, without thinking.
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't rebuke her for interrupting; instead, she patiently answered the question, "Witches or wizards who have non-magical parents."
"Like my mum?"
"Yes, like your mum. Some wizards and witches feel that those who come from a muggle family are unworthy of magic. Those who are less than pure than those who come from a magical family with ancestors going as far back as they wish to claim. It was them who made up a large percentage of this Dark Lord's followers."
"Why?"
"That is a question many have tried to answer, one I believe goes back to the time where the muggles feared, hated, and prosecuted us. Or one might say it goes back to a time where we were openly practised our craft and considered leaders, kings and queens, even gods."
"Gods?"
Professor McGonagall smiled at her, "Indeed, ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, even here the Celts worshipped us in some format; perhaps many wish to go back to those times."
"Why did the Dark Lord try to rule us?"
"Do any of us truly know what lies within another's heart? What drives them? We certainly can speculate, but we may never know or understand."
Holly frowned. She understood what drove her aunt, uncle and cousin: greed, envy, pride and a desire to be better than anyone else.
"What was his name?"
Professor McGonagall hesitated shivering slightly and had Holly not been paying close enough attention she would have missed the hesitation, before quietly answering, "Lord Voldemort. Though please be aware his name is rarely said. People are too afraid to even think it even now and refer to him as You-Know-Who."
"But that's stupid."
"And yet fear holds much power over people. They were dark times; very dark times and people have come to fear to speak the name almost as much as they fear the one who it belongs to."
Professor McGonagall continued, "You-Know-Who amassed many followers together. He promised to get rid of Muggle-borns, and he promised those who followed him; power, wealth and the world. That was enough for many to turn to him. Others followed out of fear."
Holly tilted her head again ever so slightly before asking her next question, "Is he still around?"
Professor McGonagall shook her head, and her face took on a bit of awe. "He was defeated when you were one. Nobody knows what happened that night, I doubt we ever will," she started, "He attacked your family home on Halloween night, along with three of his followers. The Longbottom's were there also with their son your families were celebrating the night together. Both your parents and the Longbottom's had been fighting against You-Know-Who since they left school. Both your father and Frank Longbottom were Aurors - our police that also acts as our military to a degree." She added as Holly opened her mouth to ask another question.
Holly snapped her mouth closed, frowning at the Professor's explanation, "What happened?"
"I can't answer, but I do know that Frank and Alice Longbottom's lives ended that night. You-Know-Who attempted to kill both Neville and you, but something happened, and he failed. You both survived, and You-Know-Who vanished."
"I think I remember a green flash of light," Holly whispered, "It's been haunting my dreams for as long as I could remember, but it never made any sense."
Professor McGonagall paled, her eyes widening a fraction as her voice dropped an octave, as she whispered, "The Killing Curse. Unsurvivable, until that night."
"Why that night?" Holly quizzed.
"It is said that Neville Longbottom survived the Killing Curse directed at him, leaving a mark on his forehead. Of course, nobody knows for certain, but it was enough for the public to jump on the hope that You-Know-Who was defeated and it marked Neville as the Boy-Who-Lived. Surviving something that until that point, had never been survived before."
Holly blinked it sound almost impossible, but then she supposed anything was possible with magic. But it didn't explain what happened to her parents, or why she had a lightning bolt scar either.
"You said the Longbottom's died that night Professor, but what happened to my parents?"
Professor McGonagall stared at her, "Miss Potter, your parents are still alive.
Holly was uncertain what to expect when she had asked to see her parents. If truth be told, she was unsure how she should feel about that particular revelation either. Numb, it was a good enough word to use. She was numb on the surface with her true feelings covered under a layer of numbness and ice that was impenetrable and impervious. Holly knew how to control her emotions, suppressing those that would lead to trouble, and using those that she needed to shield her. Holly had learned not to show her feeling for others to use, and her only protection had been a mask of indifference.
To never flinch.
Her mask had become her armour and it was easy as breathing to firmly fix into place as she watched Professor McGonagall argue with some wizards and witches in pale green and yellow robes. St Mungo's had not been what she was expecting, but then she wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting, as her gaze swept across the place before the Healers escorted them onto the Janus Thickey ward.
Lily Potter was sitting on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Her mother seemed untroubled by their presence, or even aware that they were there. She just sat silently, head tilted to the side, almost as if she was listening to something only she could hear. Her lips curved upwards into what could be perceived as a smile if Holly squinted. Holly chose to see it as a smile as she pushed her glasses up from the bridge of her nose. It made her mother look peaceful, happy and content even as she sat there. Completely unaware of what was going on around her.
Holly shifted on her feet, uncomfortably. Once upon a time she had dreamt of her parents, imagined every detail of them. While she had known they were dead, or at least dead according to her aunt, she had still done it. In her dreams, her father had been a fireman, a hero that rescued people from the burning flames that engulfed them. He had been kind, caring and loved both her and her mother dearly. Her mother had been a doctor, saving people's lives daily. It was how the two had met.
Nowhere in her dreams had she dreamt they would be stuck in a hospital lost in their minds, alive, if not well.
"Lily," Professor McGonagall's voice was very gentle. "I've brought Holly to see you. Your daughter." She touched Holly's shoulder.
Not that she needed a push.
Holly walked forward and felt almost as if she was dreaming.
Her mum looked up at her. Emerald green wide eyes that appeared glazed as she looked right through her. The same eyes that Holly had. She hadn't known that. She had dark red hair that hung loosely around her oval shaped face.
One hand reached shakily and touched her cheek.
"Pretty," her mum whispered, "So bright, like starlight. For all to see. They whisper, whisper about you. Bright light, they call to you, but you don't hear, so they weep and weep. The girl with the death coloured eyes does not hear."
Holly frowned, "What does that mean?"
"You must understand Miss Potter; she was tortured until her mind broke. Very little of what she says makes any sort of sense, even perhaps to herself. The fact she is even talking is something of an achievement, mostly she is silent," The Healer answered, speaking up for the first time since they had entered the room.
Holly nodded once but pushed aside any other questions as her father walked in. She looked like him, the same black messy hair, he wore glasses too. He shook her hand but said nothing to her. Instead, he paced, up and down, whispering to something or someone. Nothing made very much sense though she did catch the odd word here and there. Her chest ached, looking at him, looking at both of them and seeing them for the first time, touching them for the first time. Or at least the first time that she could remember.
"What happened to them?" she asked as they left her parents and the ward behind. Perhaps it was a question she should have asked before she had seen them, but Holly had been distracted on the idea of seeing them that she forgot to ask for the details. Now she wanted to know everything.
"The night You-Know-Who and the followers he brought with him attacked, the odds weren't in your parents or the Longbottom's favour. It is difficult to state who cast what spell on who, all I can say is during the fight that night; there were traces of a particularly dark spell known as the Cruciatus Curse." Professor McGonagall wrinkled her nose in disgust, "That curse is a particularly painful curse with its only known purpose to inflict great pain on another. Your parents, well you have seen the result of yourself that such a spell can cause."
"Is there no cure?"
The Professor sighed, sadly, "The human mind is a complex structure. Some believe that it is the most complex structure in the universe. I know a great many people have tried over the years to understand more about it, but as of yet, there is no cure. No way to heal them. Not in a magical or muggle sense."
"But surely there was the protection of some kind?"
"There was, but they were betrayed by one they trusted."
"Someone willingly betrayed them?" Holly asked sharply, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at the Professor.
"Yes."
Holly stayed quiet, her mind racing with everything she had learnt. She couldn't wrap her head around half the things she had learned, but there were a few things that stood out in her mind clearer than crystal.
"Who...," she licked her lips before finishing her question, "who was responsible?"
"The ones in the attack, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr. The friend who betrayed them was called Sirius Black."
The names burned in her mind, and anger stirred deep inside her. She could almost feel her whole body shake with fury. A furious wind whipped around inside of her. Outside though she insured her face was smooth of the inner turmoil. Ensuring her mask of indifference was firmly in place as her mind started to race with ideas.
"What happened to them?"
"Aurors arrested the Lestranges and Crouch at the scene. Your home ended up destroyed in the backlash of magic and You-Know-Who's disappearance. They were disorientated and unable to escape. The Aurors that turned up were quickly able to round them up, but of course, Alice and Frank were dead, Lily and James were incapable of answering any questions, and there were two one-year-olds in considerable distress. It was a mess." Holly felt the gaze of the Professor pressing down on her skin, "You got your scar that night as well."
Involuntarily her hand rose to touch her forehead, her fingers tracing the long lightning bolt scar. Her aunt had spat at her 'that she received it during the car crash' when she had dared to question it, along with claiming it to be ugly.
It was ugly. Holly couldn't deny that, but she had accepted it as part of who she was, now though Holly wished she could get rid of it. Hide it away. Sear it off her skin if such a thing was possible.
"What about Black?" the words dripped with heated anger that surprised her.
"He was confronted by another friend of your parents, Peter Pettigrew, for his crime. They duelled, and Peter was killed, along with thirteen muggles. Sirius was eventually apprehended and also imprisoned."
Holly stopped listening, her emotions twisting and turning and the numbness that had hidden them deep inside of her cracked, allowing them to pour forth.
She hated, hated, hated!
Imprisoned, they may be, but that wasn't good enough. They needed to pay. They had to pay.
Never forget.
Holly wouldn't forget, ever. She would see that those who had hurt her parents would pay.
Goblins.
Gringotts.
Mounds and mounds of gold coins buried beneath London's streets, it was an exciting revelation, even if buried wasn't precisely the right word to use. Holly could easily picture the Dursleys face if they ever learnt about it.
Her mind was racing at the endless possibilities of just what she would be able to do with that money. It was perhaps why she was caught slightly off guard by a Goblin stepping in front of her. A mistake on her part as she was usually better aware of when someone was approaching her.
Holly stared at the Goblin.
The Goblin stared back.
She knew it was rude and yet she couldn't help it. She had never seen anything like him before. Neither of them made any move to speak first, and Holly was aware of Professor McGonagall's curious gaze on them. The Goblin shoved something into her hand before turning on his heel and returning to the cart.
Holly looked down in surprise.
It was an envelope.
A thick heavy envelope, with her name neatly written on the front.
Had it been inside the vault and I hadn't noticed. Where did it come from? Who sent it?
They were questions though that would have to wait as Professor McGonagall stepped into the cart, and both teacher and Goblin looked at her expectantly. Shoving it into her pockets, Holly scurried after them.
XXX
It was with somewhat a sad acceptance that Minerva concluded that Holly Potter would not be going to Gryffindor. Her eyes had lit with a burning light in them as she had taken in every sight and sound she could of Diagon Alley. The girl had practically inhaled the Alley if such a thing was possible. The moment they stepped out of Gringotts with a bag full of coins, it took all of her will to rein her in.
Her excitement; reminding Minerva that despite her appearances, Holly Potter was still a ten-year-old child...deep inside.
It was perhaps the most childish behaviour she had seen from the girl, so far. They had barely entered Flourish and Blotts before the girl shot off with an impertinent curiosity she had come to recognise as being a core part of Ravenclaws. Not that the other houses were not curious, far from it, but Ravenclaws had to understand everything, right down to the nitty-gritty details that most people would not even consider as being important. She watched in some amusement as the girl manoeuvred her way through the shelves, pulling books at random and adding them to her growing pile. In this instant, she reminded her so much of Lily it almost hurt.
Minerva approved undoubtedly of some of the books she chose, every one of them educational in some way, whether to help in school or give her more insight into the Wizarding World than she had the time to give her. She listened to suggestions and smiled her appreciation until she felt satisfied she had enough to keep her going.
After they left the bookshop, the girl slipped away from her several times before she found her to pull her back on track. Several trinkets, toys and old books were bought in that meantime.
It was this that gave Minerva the impression that Holly Potter would find a home in the Slytherin House as quickly and efficiently as she could in Ravenclaw. Determined, focused and reserved, she pushed forward chasing her goals, regardless of the obstacles that stood in her way. This instance Minerva found that she, herself, was, in fact, the barrier as she once again pulled Holly away from a shop that Holly did not need to be in for school supplies as she purchased a few more trinkets.
"I want to learn. I want to understand." Holly answered in a somewhat simple way when Minerva asked her what it was she intended to do with everything she was purchasing.
A small voice in the back of her mind told her she was too soft, she hardly ever let muggle-borns have this much freedom the first time they entered Diagon Alley, but the way Holly's face lit up instantly made Minerva realise she would happily spend all day here if she had to. She doubted the girl had ever really had a chance to be free.
A little fun and freedom never hurt anyone.
She watched as the girl listened in silent fascination as the apothecary shopkeeper explained the difference between certain ingredients and when best to use. She smiled as Holly fired questions at the craftsman who designed the many magical trunks before purchasing her own, and Minerva found herself all but laughing out loud as Holly ran circles around various peddlers attempting to sell her things.
Eventually, it came to the last item on her list a wand.
Ollivander did his usual spiel when it came to matching a wand to a witch or wizard. The tape measure acted on its own accord while he muttered about the wand choosing the wizard. And so began the process of actually trying the wands. She lost count at how many Holly held in her hand only for it to get snatched away seconds later. Some produced sparkles; others destroyed something in its path.
"Difficult customer I see, well I have yet to be defeated, Miss Potter, and today won't be the day I will be. I will find a match for you, mark my words," Ollivander muttered half to himself, half to the girl.
He produced more and more wands until he found a match.
Minerva could almost feel it in the air. Like everything stood to attention the moment Holly's hand grasped the handle. The air almost sang with magic. The wand itself seemed to emanate a bright luminous light that lit the entire shop up. She almost had to shield her eyes.
"Oh, bravo!" Ollivander clapped, "I do believe we have found you a match. An interesting match and an unexpected one. I had thought it would go to another, but the wand chooses the witch or wizard. Holly - wand 11" nice and supple, with a core of a phoenix. I do believe Miss Potter we will be expecting many great things from you, many great things."
Minerva frowned slightly but pushed the thoughts from her mind before taking hold of Holly and ushering her out of the shop. Ollivander was cryptic at the best of times, but even for him, that was cryptic.
XXX
The Dursleys were afraid of her now.
Holly could see it in their eyes when she returned they dared not meet her gaze, of course, they had been afraid of her before; their behaviour towards her was how they coped with that fear. Lashing out and hoping she would shrivel under their weight. Holly found now she cared even less for them than she had before. They held no meaning, no significance, or importance.
It had been a slip of the tongue on her part, she hadn't meant to mention her room under the cupboard, but when she had moved towards it to store her new things Professor McGonagall had exploded. Holly had been right on one account; she was not a person she wanted to cross ever. Words exchanged, some incredibly vicious on both parties side until finally, she found herself packing her things up and taking them to Dudley's second room. Dudley had cried but found himself for the first time in his life, ignored. Professor McGonagall stayed only long enough to change the room to her tastes and place wards on the door stopping all but her from entering. With one final explanation that she was required to attend Summer School the following Monday and to be ready and waiting outside for eight o'clock, Professor McGonagall left.
Holly found herself lying on a queen-size bed, with walls painted green and the night sky on her ceiling. She loved every inch of it.
Her books lay scattered across the bed, open on random pages that caught her interest, ink and parchment neatly stored on her bedside cabinet as she slowly began practising writing with the blasted thing. It was only now as she looked up at the ceiling that she remembered the goblin and the envelope. Pulling it out of her pocket, she carefully examined it. Her name was written neatly on the front, the y's curving with a feminine touch.
She frowned.
Who could have written to her?
Holly took a deep breath.
Open the letter.
With trembling hands, she carefully opened the letter, pulled out the parchment and unfolded it.
My dearest Holly...
She ran one hand over the elegantly written words not wanting to blink lest everything disappear. Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she made herself more comfortable to read the letter. Her mother had written this.
Her mother!
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and a small smile crept across her lips; she finally had a piece of her mother, words meant for her. And while they hadn't explained anything at all they had undeniably given her something she had never had before. The knowledge that her mother and father had loved her had really and truly loved her. Turning back to the envelope, Holly pulled out a thick crimson red book that appeared to be a dairy. Opening the first page, she could see a set of complex-looking equations with a series of symbols that seemed to be written randomly on the page.
Holly had enjoyed maths to some degree while in primary school. It had been logical something she could sink her teeth into, but she was sure she had never seen anything like this before. From what she could see, they were unsolved.
Did her mother expect her to understand it? Or did she expect her to find a way to understand it?
It was a puzzle, a puzzle left by her mother and Holly did love puzzles.
She looked at them again, but nothing made any sense to her, nor did she have a eureka moment. She wasn't sure exactly how long she just looked at the page in front of her, absorbing them in her mind and attempting to put them in some order that didn't seem so scrambled or random. It was like some part of her deep down recognised them, but it was just out of reach.
Sighing in frustration, she put down the equations and reread her mother's letter hoping for some clue.
She found none. It was something she was going to have to work out. Mentally she added it to the list that was already forming in her mind.
Holly couldn't deny that she had goals. Goals that had come to light as the day rolled on. It had started as two, but now it would include a third.
One she was going to solve her mother's puzzle.
Two, she was going to make those responsible for causing so much pain to her family pay.
Three, she was going to cure her parents.
It would take time. Holly was a realist. She knew nothing about magic, and she would need to learn. Time and study. She would take the time. She would study everything, learn everything. She would become the best she could be. Better than anyone. No avenue would be unturned. She would understand, and she would succeed.
It was a silent promise, but one Holly knew she would keep.
Many things seem impossible only so long as one does not attempt them. Holly would attempt what others dared not, and she would succeed where others failed. Holly nodded in determination, flipped herself over to lie on her stomach and picked up the first book and began to read.
XXX
Despite what a great many people thought Minerva was not quick to anger despite belonging to the Gryffindor House.
Minerva found a lot of people depended entirely too much on the school House one was sorted in to determine a witch or wizard's personality. Still, there was far more to a person than whether they were a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw. At least in her opinion. And while she loved her school house dearly she was not blind to its faults like many thought her to be, nor was she a hot-headed temperamental fool as Severus often sneered her way when one of her Gryffindor's had done something foolishly hot-tempered.
No, her anger was cold and slow-building. She was firm and made it clear early not to cross her, but her anger was cold. One look at Holly, with eyes too cold and no knowledge of her heritage and her anger, started to course through her veins. The cupboard under the stairs, that was smothered in darkness, a darkness the Muggles would never cleanse from their home, it clung to every inch of the small space. That had pushed her into the clear cutting cold anger.
It was that anger that had her making her way towards Albus' office the moment she arrived back into Hogwarts. Ignoring the startled yelp from the house-elves as she passed.
Thankfully she found Albus exactly where she knew he would be, sitting behind his desk, staring at nothing in particular, when she came in, he looked up. His eyes sorrowful and intent as though he knew why she was here and had been expecting her. Minerva refused to allow it to waver her from her path.
"Why?"
It was one word, but it cut straight through the room, leaving no wiggle room as to interpret what she was angry at in any other way. Albus knew which new student she had gone to see today.
Albus sighed tiredly, his shoulders sagging, and for a brief moment, he looked every inch his age.
"It was necessary."
Minerva waited, her heart gave a slow, steady thump as she waited for him to elaborate, to explain further.
"The events of Voldemort's fall remain at large a mystery to most, and while the world proclaimed young Neville the Boy-Who-Lived, I didn't dare risk leaving Holly without protection. They were her only suitable living family for the blood wards to work. She had to live with them, to give her the protection she would need should one of Voldemort's followers choose to go after her. The magic of his ancestral home would protect Neville, the wards of Longbottom Manor are old and powerful, but Holly didn't have that," Albus said softly.
"And what was to protect her from the evil inside Albus? What was to protect her from them?" she kept her voice iron because the reasoning behind leaving Holly was one she could believe in, even as she couldn't excuse the years' Holly had suffered as a result.
"A necessary sacrifice. Holly is alive, was kept safe, if not exactly how I had hoped she would have her childhood. Petunia knew that the only way she and her family would be kept safe is if she took in her sister's daughter."
A cold chill clutched at her heart.
"They are children Albus, not sacrifices, not pawns on a board. Holly has suffered as a result of your actions, and I fear just how much. Lily and James would never forgive you for leaving their child with them."
"And that is a burden which I will have carry," Albus countered, "Holly is alive, and that is better than the alternative." His too blue eyes looked at her intently, Minerva was glad to see that the usual twinkle was at least absent, that he realised the graveness of his actions. Still, then Albus always thought of the bigger picture, she had seen that in her years as Deputy Head, as she had on the battlefield fighting side by side with the man before her. Only he had never truly feared Voldemort. But Minerva couldn't ignore the look in Holly's eyes, couldn't ignore the coldness that had threatened to consume her.
"She deserved to be loved, Albus. She deserved to be safe and happy. She deserved more than what you left her with, and I don't think I can forgive you for that."
"I expect no less, after all, how could I possibly expect you to do anything else but care for children under your charge," Albus smiled sadly.
"I just hope we don't end up paying for your mistakes, Albus, after all, if a child has only known darkness, why would they fear it."
The smile dropped, not that Minerva had wanted to hurt Albus, merely think of the consequences his actions could lead to. She crossed the office to the door without a backward glance; her anger still simmering under the surface as she departed.