November 1913
A five year-old Evander sat on the couch in his mother's apartment, looking at a tattered picture book in the dim lighting of the room. The room was warm, filled with the scent of freshly baked Irish soda bread— his mother's treat for his birthday. He kicked his little legs up and down, already knowing the words of The Ugly Duckling by heart, so he spent most of the time studying the pictures.
"Evie! Come eat, it's ready!" Breean called, and he looked up to see her set a plate on the table at his spot next to her chair. He smiled, jumping off the couch and scurried over, climbing up to the chair. His mother smiled down to him, clearly struck with endearment like any mother would be.
"Mum?" He asked as she sat next to him. She laid out a napkin over his lap, asking, "hm?"
"I'm like the ugly duckling."
Breean froze a little, giving him an inquisitive stare before asking, "what do you mean? You're not ugly, Evander."
"I feel ugly with dad. But I have a pretty heart, like yours," he said, his childlike logic so insightful but simple. Breean was touched, looking down at his plate as she tried to hold back tears. She always felt that she failed as a mother, barely able to provide for him with basic necessities like food and clothing.
"And Mum?" She heard, then looked back at his curious eyes as he munched on his bread.
"What's a 'whore?'" He asked, making the hint of a smile she had disappear. This time, she couldn't stop the tears that welled into her eyes, looking away from him as she tried to hide her sadness.
"Where did you hear that, honey?" She asked, her voice threatening to shake as she tried to compose herself. He seemed confused, replying with, "I heard the Mums at school talking about you. It means a good thing, right?"
"What makes you think it's good?" Breean asked, her voice tired with an ironic laugh at the end of the question. Evander tilted his head to the side, saying, "because they're talking about you. That means it has to be good."
Breean smiled, finally looking into her son's eyes as a tear trickled down her cheek. Evander gasped a little, asking, "why are you crying?! Does it mean you're little because they're older? How old are you again?"
Breean smiled sadly, her long fingers gently wiping a tear off her right cheek as she answered, "I'm twenty one."
"That must be it, they're older—" Evander began, stopping when she shook her head no.
"That's not it, my love. It's not a nice word, you'll learn what it means when you're older," she said patiently, only seeming to confuse him more. He furrowed his eyebrows, asking, "why would they say that, then? You're always nice to them when we're together—"
Breean looked at the cover of The Ugly Duckling sitting next to Evander's plate, seeing the picture of him in the middle of other ducks, clearly standing out. Breean felt so awkward around the other parents, being much younger than them and a single woman. She couldn't even say she was widowed— the news spread like wildfire that she was a prostitute in their small town. It was hard enough relating to the other mothers, but it stung hearing that they speak that way behind her back.
She looked back, seeing that Evander was waiting for an answer to his question. He seemed genuinely perplexed that people weren't nice to Breean, especially since she was so kindhearted and nice to the other mothers.
"Because, I'm the ugly duckling," she said, smiling a little at how ironic she sounded.
"You aren't ugly though—" he protested, and she laughed, saying, "didn't we just have this conversation a moment ago? Except I was telling you that."
"Oh, I see—" Evander said, realizing his mother meant it as a metaphor the same way he did. She smiled, taking a bite of the bread, impressed with Evander's brain once again. She always knew he was bright, and was looking forward to seeing just how smart he really was once he got older.
Not long after, she brought him over to the couch, laying on it with her back on a pillow, giving them a view out the window at the winter constellations. She pulled him up, laying him across her, encircling his small body with her arms from behind as he looked up at the sky.
"I always want you to remember this, Evie—" she began, then he turned and looked up at her.
"We might be seen as ugly ducklings to other people. But what really matters is what's inside. The outside and stories about us do not determine who we are in here, which makes us... pretty ducklings" she said, poking his chest where his heart was with two light taps.
"If you're a kind person, a good friend, and someone who looks out for others, that's all that matters. People can call you all sorts of names, but if you know who you really are, the people who matter will know too. When you meet people like that, be sure to be their friend and cherish them."
"What does 'cherish' mean?"
"To treasure them."
"I thought treasure was money," he said, and she giggled saying, "it can be used to describe something that isn't an object."
"Like what?"
"Love. Cherishing and treasuring someone means to love them," she answered with a warm smile.
"I cherish you," he said, turning back up to the sky. She smiled, thinking about how much she loved him and the life they had together. They didn't have much, but the time the two of them spent together meant everything. Their home was happy, loving, and always felt warm.
What more could I ask for?
"I cherish you too, Evander."
Evander felt the Hogwarts Express lurch, jolting him awake and making him remember it was June of 1924. He squinted out the window, seeing them slowing down as they passed through London close to King's Cross Station.
"Good morning," Theodora said next to him. He rubbed his eyes, saying, "I can't believe I fell asleep."
"It's no wonder," he heard a girl across from them say. It was their Ravenclaw friend Lydia, seated next to Serafina, who was next to John at the window seat.
"You were exhausted with prefect duties and OWLs. I'm sure that nap was long overdue," Lydia finished, with Serafina agreeing. Evander nodded slowly, saying, "sorry about that, I wish I would've held out for a train ride. I can sleep at home."
"Evander, we can write letters and— this isn't even our last year so don't worry," John said with a laugh.
The students were off the train not long after, heading to the main platforms in the muggle world and separating as they spotted their family members. Theodora and Evander were left of their friend group, walking amongst the students as they all hugged their parents around them.
"Theodora!" They heard, turning to see Maven waving to her.
"Oh— I'll be right there!" She called, then turned to Evander. She frowned a little, saying, "you sure you don't need a ride from us if your mom's working?"
He shook his head no, saying, "I'm fine, I have to stay here anyway. I have to get on my next train that'll take me to the channel, and then I have a few more transfers before I'm back home."
Theodora nodded sadly, saying, "well, I hope you have a good summer—"
She looked around, then hugged him tightly saying, "write to me, okay?"
"I'm not a psychopath, Thea—" he jested, making them both chuckle. He heard her stop suddenly, feeling her lift her chin off his shoulder quickly as if she was looking behind him. They let go of each other, and he turned around, seeing what Theodora had been staring at.
"Evander!" Breean called, a smile passing over her face as she scurried towards them. She lifted the skirts of her white apron and long blue dress, and her nurse's veil flowed behind her as she moved. Theodora and the others around them were stunned by the beauty of this woman, seeing that Evander was a spitting image of her.
"Is that your mom?" She asked Evander, who nodded proudly.
"She's gorgeous," Theodora whispered, taking in her appearance as she flew into Evander's arms. Theodora had grown some, and was taller than most girls at 5' 6," but felt short seeing Breean at her full height of 5' 10." Evander clearly got his height from her. Her frame was like that of a dancer, being very thin but graceful with each movement she made. Her hair was hidden by the veil, but her arched eyebrows were the same color as Evander's hair, as well as her light brown-green eyes. She had a radiant smile, with straight teeth, and wore light makeup to bring some color to her porcelain skin.
"I got another nurse to cover for me, so I left work work early to come pick you up. I'm glad I made it in time," she said, stepping back to take a look at her son. He made no effort to hide how pleased he was, which made Theodora's heart melt. She knew Evander was close to his mother, but loved being able to see their bond in-person.
"This is Theodora, mom," Evander said, turning to Theodora. Breean offered her a beautiful smile, hugging Theodora as she said, "I've heard lovely things about you. It's so nice to meet you!"
"Likewise, Ms. Donovan!" Theodora squeaked, hugging Evander's mother tightly.
"We'll talk more some other time, we barely have enough time until our next train. We just got a phone in our place, I wrote down our number to give it to you in case I'd see you here—" Breean said, pressing a paper into Theodora's hands.
"Oh my, thank you!" Theodora said with an excited grin. Breean nodded excitedly, then noticed Evander's attention was diverted elsewhere.
Evander looked over to the side, seeing Cornelius and their other siblings being picked up by Lucien and his wife. Breean followed her son's gaze, her own turning cold as she stared down Lucien. His wife looked more upset than any of them though, and Theodora could clearly see why.
The genius of the family wasn't hers, and he didn't come about in a way that would make the family look good. It must kill them to see how much better Evander and his mother are in literally everything. And she's a trauma nurse, Theodora thought.
Breean didn't like the look she saw in Evander's eyes as he stared at Lucien, feeling her fear of them disappear. She reached up, cupping Evander's cheek and turning him towards her. Her smile was warm and she said, "let's get going. I'm making soda bread tonight."
"Really?!" Evander yelped, his face lighting up. Breean nodded, grinning ear to ear as she linked her arm through his.
"Safe travels, Theodora. We're looking forward to hearing from you. Tell me all about Quidditch, I'd love to hear it!" Breean said to Theodora with a warm smile. Theodora nodded excitedly, saying, "Absolutely. Get home safely!"
Evander turned, lowering his voice as he said, "I love you."
"I love you too," Theodora replied, waving to them as they walked away. Breean nudged him once he turned around, giggling and murmuring to him which made him redden. Theodora grinned, seeing the Lestranges were annoyed that Breean seemed to have forgotten they were even there.
Goodness, they're… incredible.
A/N: It's been a while since we've had some backstory. I wanted to introduce Evander's mother, especially since she had a huge impact on the person he became.
I really wanted Theodora to say "they're badass," but that term wasn't really used until the 50s according to google. UGH.
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