Isobel McGonagall's garden bloomed in the midst of the Scottish Highlands. Other than her daughter, the large array of flowers, plants and small ponds was her greatest joy. It was the one place where she could be alone, free of the restraints of the Muggle world. She enjoyed finally being able to use her wand to help the plants grow. The cloudberries, tulips, primroses, azaleas, lilies, roses and more or less any flower typical for Scotland could be found in Isobel's garden. Today, she was battling a colony of thistles that have recently emerged in the middle of her daffodil plantation. They could've been the nation's symbol, but Isobel did not appreciate them ruining her perfectly groomed garden, arranged by colours and shades. She heard a distant sound of bagpipes playing, marking her husband's return home. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead, swearing vengeance on the thistles. She quickly hid her wand under her dress and entered the house through the back door.
"Robert! Are you hungry? There's still some cabbie claw left, I'll heat it up for you!" Getting no response, she made her way to the work room where Robert usually took his time to play.
"Rob, I said there's some left..." The rest of her sentence got caught in her throat as she entered the room to see the bagpipes playing themselves. "Oh Minnie, no..."
Her hand flew to her head. She couldn't be sure it was her month old daughter that did this. It could've been a mischievous poltergeist. She quickly proceeded to her daughter's room, where the baby was placed in her cot, playing with a rag doll their neighbour gave her. There was only one way to see if it really was the little raven haired girl that made the bagpipes play themselves.
Isobel slowly crept to the cot, surprising her daughter with a loud "BOO!"
To her great dismay, as soon as Minerva dropped the doll and started crying, the bagpipes stopped playing. Isobel picked the baby up, cradling her. She frantically went through a series of thoughts. She didn't expect Minnie to start showing signs of magic this early. Frankly, she half hoped the baby would turn out to be a squib. She cursed herself for not telling Robert that she was a witch years ago. But she knew that if he knew about her true nature before their marriage, he wouldn't go through with it. A witch wasn't exactly the proper wife for a minister. And then after the wedding, he was just so happy, she couldn't ruin it. Maybe she still didn't have to tell him. She could cover little accidents like this up. Yes, that was the best thing to do.
It has been four sleepless nights for Merope Riddle. Since her husband has left after receiving the news she was a witch, she didn't have any rest. She barely ate and spent all her energy on not crying. Her hair that has gotten so full in the last year now looked more like it did back when she was still living in her father's shack. Her face was stained with tears, her eyes bloodshot. She wasn't sure if she believed that her husband would come back, but she put all her hopes on it, and it was worth it. The door softly clicked when Tom Riddle slowly entered the little townhouse. Merope looked up from the hard chair she dragged from the kitchen and flew in the tall man's embrace.
"Tom, I'm so glad you're back! I promise I'll never lie again; I'll never use magic if you don't want me to, Tom! I'll break my wand; I'll do whatever it takes. Where have you been? Are you hungry? Do you need some sleep?" She muffled all of this in his shoulder, hugging him as strong as she could. Tom on the other hand, stiffly held his hand on Merope's back. 'Sit', was the only word he gave her.
She listened to his instruction, never letting go of his hand. He slowly spoke, avoiding looking his wife in the eye.
"I've been with my parents. I didn't tell them about your...secret, I just told them we were having some problems and that you are pregnant. My father and I agree that it wouldn't be appropriate to leave you alone, considering your state. My mother thinks we should move to their house. We'll have separate lodgings and you and the baby will have everything you need."
Merope just stared at him, her eyes open in shock. "Your parents' house? Separate lodgings? I'm not sure if I like this, Tom."
He shook her hand of off his and coldly returned her gaze. "Well, I'm not sure that I like you being a witch. You should consider yourself lucky I didn't leave you here and tell everyone you tricked me as I planned. We leave in an hour. I'm going upstairs to pack. And do be kind and try to keep magic," he said the last word as if it was a curse, "away from my parents." He stood up and went upstairs to their bedroom, leaving Merope behind in the sitting room that now seemed incredibly cold. Tears streamed down her face as she realised confessing she was a witch to her husband was probably the worst decision of her life.
Approximately three hours after the cold reunion, the Riddles were driving in the black Bentley that Tom's parents sent for them. Merope looked through the window, as it seemed the whole of Little Hangleton gathered to see the arrival of the couple. Tom didn't seem to be affected by this as he flipped through the pages of today's issue of the Daily Mail. "Don't look at them."
Merope turned her head away from the window, looking at her husband. Just four days ago, they were so happy and in love. Now, he could barely look at her.
"How long are you planning to keep this up?"
"Keep what up?" He asked, pretending to be interested in a news article about some coal miners' strike. Merope just sighed, deciding to give the subject up until they were alone. The chauffeur drove the car through the elaborate steel gateway of the Riddle manor. The house Merope used to only dream about appeared before her eyes, glorious in its size and history. She couldn't help an awed gasp escaping her lips. They stopped just in front of the main entrance and were greeted by the manor's staff. The fifteen maids and a footman bowed and curtsied as the couple exited the car. Merope was absolutely stunned as a plump older balding man in a black tuxedo approached her and bowed. She has only heard stories about this from their London neighbours.
"It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, Madame. My name is Joseph Aldebourne, and I am the Head of the Duke of Hereford's household. You may call me Joseph. I want to assure you that I will be on your disposition every time of the day if you need me."
Merope gave him a faint smile, suddenly feeling nervous about her mended skirt and her blouse dotted with food stains. "You can call me Merope, then."
Joseph exchanged a nervous look with Tom, not knowing how to react. Tom stepped closer to Merope, stiffly placing a hand on her back. "Joseph may not call you Merope, you are his mistress now. If you wish to be more informal, he can call you Lady Merope instead of Lady Hereford. Where is my father, Joseph?"
He turned his head to Joseph, who sent him to the library. Merope was just trying to take this all in. She, a lady? Her house has a library? And did she get something wrong or did they just say her father-in-law was a Duke? She wasn't sure she liked the manor more than their simple little townhouse in London. Joseph called two maids from the row. "Anne, Mary."
The two petite brunettes dressed in matching green dresses who seemed to be sisters curtsied in front of Merope.
"My Lady." They chorused.
"Anne and Mary will be your companions. They will provide you with company and help you entertain guests. Jane, Kate!" Joseph motioned his hand toward the two more women dressed in plain grey skirts and blouses. They followed Anne and Mary's example, curtsying and greeting her as a lady. "Jane and Kate are your maids, their duties are to take care of your appearance and household needs. You have eleven more charladies that will be spending days at your quarters." Merope tried to nod to all of them, but she couldn't remember all of their names. Joseph instructed her to follow him to the library.
The door of the great room filled with books opened to a scene of the three Riddles having a quiet discussion. Tom and his father stood tall next to a work table and Tom's mother sat in a leather couch reaching for Tom's hand. "Just don't do anything..." Joseph's quiet cough interrupted her. The Riddles faced her, all sharing a face of annoyance. They were the perfect image of a noble family, three black haired statues. She nervously walked behind Joseph to the work table. "Your Graces, my Lord. Lady Merope." He bowed again and hurried out of the library.
Merope shyly extended her arm to the woman she knew to be Mary Riddle. "It is a pleasure..."
"I don't think there is a need for introductions. You are here to hear what we have to say."
Merope closed her mouth, turning her eyes to the floor.
"You have brought nothing but disgrace to my son and our family. Because of this horrible scandal that is your marriage, he won't ever be able to marry again. I hope you understand that the only reason why we accepted you in our home is the child you are carrying. The Duke of Hereford needs an heir and my son can now only get one with you. With the situation being as such, you probably realise your status as my son's wife and Lady Hereford is merely symbolical. You will host a few parties, attend some, and take care of my grandchild's education. I am sure my son informed you that you will have your own quarters. I expect nothing but the most sublime behaviour of you, once you are civilized. Also, you will not visit your family in that shabby little ruin of yours. Now run along so you can get some proper clothes."
Merope's brain was frozen in shock. She knew Tom's parents didn't have the best of opinions about her, but she didn't expect the open hate that she just received. She barely heard Tom saying "Was that really necessary?" as she met Joseph outside the library door. "My Lady." He led her to her quarters while she was occupied thinking of everything that has just happened. Parties and dresses, and Dukes...this was a long way from being the Heir of Slytherin in a pile of rocks her father called a house. Her baby kicked as if it was feeling its mother's anxiousness. She placed her hand gently on her stomach and started singing a lullaby she barely remembered from her mother. She withdrew to her bedroom, away from all the curtsying women. She cried and cried for hours.
Later that night, once everyone was asleep, a lean short figured could be seen under the moonlight in the garden of the Riddle Manor. Merope quickly sneaked to the huge oak tree behind the house. She reached under her skirt and pulled her wand out. She dug a whole about a feet deep and placed her wand inside of it. Magic has done her nothing but wrong, wrong and more wrong. She was done with magic.
It was a warm summer night in the village of Berriedale. The McGonagalls have just said goodbye to their friends after celebrating their daughter's first birthday. Isobel sighed heavily as she realised exactly how huge the mess in their sitting room was. Her husband approached her silently, placing a hand around her waist and kissing the top of her head. "I'll deal with that, love. How about we tuck the little monster in first?" He nodded his head towards their daughter, who was busy taking the head off a ceramic doll she just got from her godmother. Robert picked her up and carried the little girl to her room. He gently placed her in her cot while Isobel changed Minnie into her pyjamas.
The little girl waved her hand towards the shelf in the corner of the room, exclaiming loudly "Ena!"
Isobel smiled and started to get the rag doll she and her daughter named Rowena. She was just about to reach for the doll when it flew from the shelf towards her daughter's cot. A breath of air left her mouth as she rapidly turned around, hear head following the doll.
She felt wildly lucky as she saw Robert had his back turned to the cot and was placing some scattered toys in the toy chest. She quickly approached the cot to make it seem like she brought the doll down. She was so tired of accidents like this, one after the other. For the last year, most of her time was spent trying to hide signs of magic that Minnie showed from Robert. She didn't know how much more she could take. Robert tucked the baby in and followed Isobel as they left the room.
"You go to bed love, I'll clean the sitting room up." He kissed his wife on the cheek and proceeded to the sitting room. Isobel ran for their bedroom, quietly shut the door, jumping to the bed and sobbing into the pillow. She missed her parents, she missed magic, she missed flying, but most of all she missed her husband. Lately, she couldn't even talk openly with Robert out of fear of him finding out that Minnie was indeed, a witch. She was so occupied with trying to remain silent she didn't even notice Robert come in. Her husband rushed to sit beside her, hugging her and caressing her hair.
"What is it, love?"
Isobel just shook her head, wiping the tears away.
Robert sighed heavily. "Listen, this has been going on for a while. I know there is something wrong, you just have to tell me what it is."
"You won't understand." Isobel reached for a handkerchief on her bedside table.
"I promise I will. You can tell me anything, Isobel. For better or worse, remember?"
Isobel took a deep breath and plucked all the courage she had from the pit of her stomach.
"There is something about me that I have to tell you."
She exhaled and reached for a box hidden under a floor plank under their bed. She opened the box and took out her wand. With a wave of her hand, she dimmed the light, closed the door and dried the now soaked handkerchief.
Robert just stared at her, no sure what to make of it. "Did you just do all of that?"
Isobel nodded, nervously turning the wand around. "This helped me. It's a wand I got for my eleventh birthday, just as any young wizard. Or in my case, a witch."
"Witches and wizards? Like Morgaine and Merlin?"
Isobel chuckled lightly. "Yes, like Morgaine and Merlin. In fact, I know that Merlin went to the same school I did." She tried to light up the mood, but Robert still seemed deeply confused. "Are you afraid?"
Robert shook his head. "No, not afraid. Just...it's an unusual thing to take in. I'm okay with this, I guess...what about Minnie? Is she a witch too?"
"She is. And a very talented one!" Isobel's face finally lit up, looking fiercely proud. "Children don't tend to show signs of magic until they're at least four or five, but she started turning the lights on and off a few hours after she was born."
Robert smiled, seemingly proud. "That's my girl, isn't she? Does she have to go to that school you and Merlin went to?"
"Hogwarts? It would be a waste of talent if she didn't, Rob. She's going to be a great witch, I can feel it in my bones. And she won't be away for that long. Three months from summer to Christmas, and than just six more months until the next summer. She'll be home before you know it. And before that, we still have her for ourselves for eleven more years." Her husband smiled and kissed her.
"As long as she'll still sing in the church choir."
Isobel smiled, gently stroking her husband's hair. "Of course. And you'll still love me, no matter what I am?"
"Of course." And though Robert McGonagall did mean what he said, he never shared the same bond and trust with his wife that he used to. And both he and his wife were aware of the change.
A/N: So, a lot of things have happened in this chapter. Firstly, the two stories aren't parallel, the McGonagalls are in October of 1936 in this chapter, and the Riddles are in August of 1926. The stories won't be parallel until Tom and Minnie start Hogwarts, so I'll just write when they're happening in each of the chapters. The title of Duke of Hereford is partially made up. There was a hereditary title of Earl of Hereford, but it wasn't used since 1373. There also was a Duke of Hereford, but the title died with him in 1413, and there is currently a Viscount of Hereford. Also, I named her companies after the Boleyn sisters, so it's a bit of an Easter egg! The next chapter should be up soon, and I hope you like this one :)