"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."
Soren Kierkegaard
VII
The study was adorned with dark, mahogany bookshelves, filled to the brim with ancient tomes and family heirlooms. William Dagworth-Granger, a bright-eyed and curious child, sat across from his father, Hector Dagworth-Granger, who exuded an air of aristocratic pride.
"Father, what is a muggle?" the young wizard inquired, looking up from his book.
Hector, who was also the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, furrowed his brow and set aside his newspaper. "A muggle, my son, is a non-magical person. They are ignorant, weak, and inferior to us. They do not deserve to know about our world, let alone share it with us."
Perplexed, William pressed further. "Why not?"
The old wizard let out a sigh and shook his head. "You are too young to understand, son. They may look like us, but they are not like us. Acceptance and respect are beyond their reach. Fear, hatred, and destruction are all they offer us."
While nodding, William couldn't help but feel unconvinced. He had encountered muggles before and didn't find them so different or terrible. They seemed to have their own problems, joys, and sorrows, just like wizards. He wondered if his father's perspective was accurate or if there was something he was missing.
"Good. Now, let us continue with your lessons. Tomorrow, you will start your first year at Durmstrang, the finest school of magic in Europe. You will learn a lot there and make us proud. But remember, child, never forget who you are and where you come from. You are a Dagworth-Granger, a pureblood, a wizard. And nothing else matters."
Years later, as a newly graduated student from Durmstrang, William found himself disillusioned by his father's beliefs and Grindelwald's agenda, he had witnessed the horrors of war and the atrocities committed by both sides. The experience made him realize that the world was not simply black and white, but rather a complex array of shades of gray. He no longer desired to be part of the conflict or contribute to the division. Instead, he craved freedom and love.
One night, William received an invitation to a party hosted by one of his former classmates who had rented a muggle apartment in Montmartre, Paris. Curiosity and excitement filled him as he put on his best attire and used a portkey to reach the address.
The party unfolded before him in a loud, crowded, and vibrant atmosphere. People of various ages and backgrounds mingled together, enjoying music, dancing, drinking, and laughter. William felt a surge of adrenaline and wonder as he blended in with the muggles. Their stories, lives, and cultures fascinated him, evoking a sense of connection, respect, and curiosity. In this moment, he truly felt alive.
Caught in the midst of the festivities, the wizard noticed a pair of eyes fixed upon him. Turning to investigate, he saw a muggle woman with a captivating smile. Her beauty was undeniable, with long brown hair, green eyes, and a slender figure. Dressed in a red gown and adorned with a silver necklace, she exuded confidence. As she approached him, his heart skipped a beat.
With a confident stride, the young lady introduced herself, extending her hand towards the surprised yet pleased man. "Hi, I'm Hélène. Hélène Bernard. And you are?" she inquired, eager to know his name.
He reciprocated the gesture, gently squeezing her hand. "I'm William. William Dagworth-Granger. Nice to meet you," he responded, his voice exuding warmth and friendliness.
"Pleasure to meet you too, William. Your name is quite intriguing. May I ask where you're from?" Hélène inquired, her attention drawn to his accent.
A smile graced his lips as he shrugged. "I'm from England, but I studied in Germany. I've been traveling around Europe for a while, and fate led me here to Paris."
Curiosity ignited within Hélène as she continued the conversation. "Really? What did you study?" she probed, captivated by his life experiences.
For a moment, William hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Uh, history. And languages. And art," he answered vaguely, hoping to divert any further inquiries.
He was a wizard, after all, and the disclosure of his true nature to a muggle was a risk he couldn't take.
Impressed by his diverse interests, Hélène playfully complimented him. "Wow, you must be incredibly knowledgeable."
A blush adorned William's cheeks, as he felt a growing fondness towards Hélène. She possessed a captivating blend of beauty, intelligence, and charm. "Thank you. You are very kind," he replied with a genuine smile.
Locked in an enchanting gaze, the couple felt an undeniable connection. The noise and commotion around them faded into the background as they inched closer to one another.
With a glimmer of hope, William extended an invitation. "Would you like to dance with me?"
Hélène's face lit up with excitement as she eagerly accepted. "Yes, I would love to."
Taking her hand, the wizard led her towards the dance floor, where they moved in perfect harmony to the rhythm of the music. In that moment, it felt as though they were in their own world, oblivious to the passing time. Neither wanted the night to end, cherishing the enchantment they had found in each other's company.
William's heart raced with anticipation as he guided his fiancée, Hélène Bernard, into the majestic halls of his family's ancestral home. He had shared everything with the muggle woman - his magic, his family, his past. The wizard had expected her to react with shock, fear, or anger. But to his surprise, she was amazed, curious, and understanding.
Deep down, William yearned for his father's love and acceptance of both him and Hélène, and their future together. With a mixture of hope and trepidation, he brought his fiancée to his family manor and knocked on the door. When his father opened it, his face was filled with surprise and displeasure.
"Son, what brings you here?" the old potioneer asked coldly.
"Hello, father. I've come to see you and introduce you to someone. This is Hélène Bernard, my fiancée. We're getting married soon," William said, a smile on his face.
Hector's eyes widened and his expression darkened as he looked at Hélène. In her, he saw a muggle, a threat. Rage and disgust consumed him.
"Your fiancée? You're marrying a muggle? Have you lost your mind, son? How dare you bring this filth into my house? How dare you betray your blood, your family, your legacy?" he shouted.
"Father, please, calm down. Hélène is not filth. She's wonderful, kind, and smart. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. She loves me, and I love her. We're happy," William pleaded.
"Happy? You call this happiness? You call this love? This is madness, son. This is a mistake, a disgrace, a sin. You're not happy, you're deluded, corrupted, cursed. You don't love her, you're bewitched. She's the enemy. And you must be free of her," Hector said, reaching for his wand.
"Father, no, please, stop. We're not the enemy, we're your family," William begged, gripping Hélène's hand.
Hector raised his wand, pointing it at them. His gaze held contempt, pity, and sorrow. He loved his son, still he couldn't accept his choice or his future. The old wizard believed he was doing what was right, what was best, what was necessary.
"Obliviate," he whispered.
A jet of light struck William and Hélène, and they collapsed to the floor. Their memories, feelings, and identities were wiped away. They forgot who they were, where they were, and what they were.
A mix of relief and guilt filled Hector as he looked at them. His family was free from what he saw as a curse. He had safeguarded his bloodline and fulfilled his duty.
Unbeknownst to the skilled wizard, the consequences of his spell were far more severe than he could have imagined. It rippled beyond William and Hélène, erasing their existence from the minds of everyone outside the family who had known or been connected to them. Friends, colleagues, acquaintances - all forgot about them. Their pasts were obliterated as if they had never been born.
Hector himself bore the brunt of his own spell. He had to witness his son lose all his knowledge and skills as a magician, his passion and pride as a potioneer, his love and loyalty as a son. The man watched him become a stranger, a muggle, a nobody.
"I have failed," he muttered to himself, realizing that he hadn't succeeded in passing on his beliefs to the next generation. He had only succeeded in losing his son forever.
Determined to give William and Hélène a fresh start away from the magical world, the powerful wizard relocated them to a modest house near Liverpool. There, as the Grangers, they began anew, deeply in love but unaware of how their paths had intertwined. Hélène and William pursued together a career in medicine.
To ensure their new identities were convincing, Hector forged all the necessary documents, leaving no room for suspicion or questions. He knew that other pureblood families had done the same when concealing squib children. It was a common practice to shield them from the magical society. The wizard never saw William or Hélène again, leaving them to live their lives in blissful ignorance, hoping they would find happiness.
Years later, the couple welcomed a daughter named Hermione, who inherited her father's magic and her mother's courage. Yet she knew nothing of her family's past or her true heritage.
Cecilia Dagworth-Granger, a courageous nineteen-year-old, had recently joined the Order of the Phoenix. Despite being a pureblood witch, she had chosen to reject that part of her identity. Just like her brother, she had made the decision to fight, to resist, to defy.
One day, after returning from a secret mission, Cecilia noticed something strange. A faded, cracked picture of her older brother William stood on the mantelpiece completely blank. His room was empty, dark, and cold. His belongings were old, broken, forgotten. Confusion, fear, and dread washed over her.
She hurried to her father's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, he looked at her with annoyance and indifference.
"Father, where is my brother? What happened to him? Why is everything so different?" the witch asked, her voice filled with frantic concern.
Hector sighed, knowing this day would inevitably come. He had prepared for it by casting a charm on the house, causing everyone to forget about William, his muggle fiancée, and his betrayal. He had erased his son from their lives, their memories, and their hearts, believing it was for the best.
However, Cecilia had been absent when he performed the charm. She had been away with the Order, always rebellious. The old wizard decided it was time to tell her the truth, hoping she would understand.
"Daughter, please sit down. I have something very important and serious to tell you, something you may not like but must hear," he said calmly.
Cecilia sat, her curiosity and anxiety evident in her eyes. Tension seemed to hang in the air.
"Father, what is it? What are you going to tell me?" she insisted nervously.
Looking at her, Hector revealed everything. The truth about William, his muggle fiancée, and his descent into madness came out. His own decision, actions, and the consequences that followed were explained.
He expected Cecilia to accept, and agree.
But she did not.
Shock and disbelief filled the young witch as she stared at him. An overwhelming pain gripped her. She loved her brother and could not fathom accepting his fate or his absence. Her father's actions seemed wrong, unforgivable.
"How could you, father? How could you do this to Will? How could you do this to us? How could you do this to yourself?" she cried.
"Child, I did it for the best. William was cursed, mad, and doomed. He had betrayed his own blood, his family, and his legacy. I did it for him, for us, for our world," Hector replied firmly.
"No, father. You did it for yourself, for your pride, for your fear," Cecilia said, her voice filled with anger.
"You don't understand. You're too young, too naive, too idealistic," the old wizard dismissed.
"Father, I do understand. I see Grindelwald, his cause, his will. And I reject them, defy them," Cecilia responded boldly.
"You're a fool. You've joined the Order of the Phoenix, haven't you? You've sided with Dumbledore, his followers, his lies," Hector accused.
"Father, it's you who have chosen the wrong side, the purebloods, the fanatics," Cecilia retorted defiantly.
They stared at each other, both consumed by hatred, disgust, and sorrow. A distance had formed between them. Conflict filled the air.
Nothing else remained.
"Cecilia Anaïs Dagworth-Granger, you are no daughter of mine. You are dead to me and our world. Leave, and never come back," Hector announced coldly.
"Father, I will leave, but I I won't stop until I find out what happened to my brother," the witch replied sadly.
She stood, walked to the door, and looked at him, her sorrow palpable.
Cecilia left, closing the door behind her. She went to her room, packed her belongings, and slipped William's blank picture into her pocket. Leaving the house, she used a portkey to reach the Order and join the fight. She embraced the light and followed the path of hope.
An Auror in her early thirties, Cecilia sat at her desk surrounded by papers and maps that represented years of her work. Despite the weariness on her face, she wore her stained and worn robes with pride. The room she was in was dimly lit by a few candles, causing the dust to be more noticeable. On the shelves, there were books and artifacts that held secrets of the magical world.
As Cecilia glanced at a blank photograph of her long-lost brother, she couldn't help but sigh and whisper, "Where are you, Will?"
Her attention was then caught by a report from the Order about a muggleborn Slytherin named Hermione Granger. The surname Granger was uncommon in muggle London, and Cecilia had hoped to find some trace of her brother. However, all she discovered was that William and his wife Hélène had perished in a fire, leaving behind a daughter.
A surge of hope filled Cecilia's chest. "Could it be? Could this girl be my niece?" she wondered. She had always suspected that William's daughter was a witch, even though she had never been able to locate her Hogwarts acceptance letter.
Determined to pursue this lead, the woman packed her belongings and left the Auror headquarters in Paris to return to England. Her destination was Little Hangleton, where she was supposed to assist in an old case. The small village was eerie and gloomy, as if it harbored something sinister.
Upon arriving at the Gaunt shack, a dilapidated cottage that stood alone in a field, Cecilia couldn't help but feel a chill in the air. This cabin had once been the ancestral home of the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin, notorious for their connection to instability and violence. These traits had thrived throughout the generations, fueled by their practice of inbreeding and their overwhelming arrogance.
"This place... It reeks of dark magic," the Auror muttered to herself. She drew her wand and cautiously entered the hut. Inside, she was met with a cold and damp environment, accompanied by faint whispers of ancient spells.
Searching the shack for any potential clues, Cecilia stumbled upon a dusty book on one of the shelves. It was a tome dedicated to nefarious blood rituals, filled with spells and curses. Hoping to find something of use, she opened it and began scanning the pages.
Suddenly, the door behind her creaked open. The witch swiftly hid the book behind her back and turned around, only to find a young man standing there, looking surprised. He was handsome, with dark hair and gray eyes, dressed in a suit and tie. A charming smile adorned his face.
He said, "Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to intrude." His voice was soft and regretful, and he looked down at his feet.
Cecilia feigned friendliness, but she couldn't shake off her wariness. "No intrusion at all. I'm just... investigating some disturbances in the area," she replied.
Raising an eyebrow, the young man responded, "Disturbances? How intriguing. I must admit, I've always been fascinated by the mysteries of this place."
Cecilia studied him, wondering who he was and what his purpose there might be. Despite her suspicions, she felt a strange attraction towards him. Deciding to play along, she acted as if she were a muggle.
She suggested, "Yes, it's quite fascinating indeed. By the way, you strike me as someone who appreciates the beauty of horses. There's a stable nearby, care to join me for a walk?"
A smile formed on his face as he replied, "I'd be delighted. Horses possess a certain grace, don't they?"
Leaving the darkness of the cabin behind, they walked towards the stable. Cecilia's mind was consumed by thoughts of the mysteries surrounding this young man. He introduced himself as Thomas Riddle Jr., and she couldn't help but wonder if he had any connection to the other muggleborn Slytherin she had read about in the Order report.
Months had passed since that fateful encounter in the Gaunt shack, and the couple had been dating in secret. Thomas had finally gathered the courage to invite her to his family's grand estate for dinner. As they entered the opulent dining room, Cecilia couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. She knew that revealing her true identity as a witch might not be well-received, but she couldn't keep it a secret any longer.
Seated at the head of the table were Lord Thomas Riddle Sr. and Lady Mary, Thomas's parents. Lord Riddle, a stern-looking man with graying hair, nodded politely at Cecilia, while Lady Mary, an elegant woman with a kind smile, greeted her warmly.
Over a sumptuous meal, Cecilia mustered the courage to share her secret. "I have something important to tell you," she began, her voice steady but filled with apprehension. "I am a witch."
Silence enveloped the room as Thomas' eyes widened in shock. He suddenly stood up, his face pale, and pulled Cecilia towards him. In his panic, he lost his footing, and they tumbled down the grand staircase. The young woman's world went black as she passed out.
As Cecilia slowly regained consciousness, she felt a throbbing pain in her head. She opened her eyes to find Lady Mary kneeling beside her, concern etched across her face. The room was filled with chaos and panic, and the witch could hear the distant sound of sirens.
"Please, help my husband," Lady Mary pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "He's been shot."
Cecilia tried to sit up, but the pain in her head intensified. "I'll do my best," she whispered, her voice filled with determination.
As she reached out her hand to cast a healing spell with her wand, Lady Mary's trembling voice interrupted her. "It's too late," she sobbed. "He's gone."
Grief washed over the witch, sinking her heart. Saving Lord Riddle had been beyond her power, and Thomas had vanished into the night after shooting his father. The pain that Lady Mary must be feeling was unbearable to imagine, having lost both her husband and her son in such a tragic turn of events.
Days turned into weeks, and Cecilia found herself standing outside the Riddle estate once again. She took a deep breath and approached the door. Lady Mary opened it, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope.
"Please, come in," Lady Mary greeted her, gesturing for Cecilia to enter.
They sat in silence for a while, sipping tea and finding solace in each other's presence. Finally, the witch broke the silence. "I have news," she said gently. "Thomas' body was found in the woods near the Gaunt shack. It seems he was a victim of dark magic."
Lady Mary gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, my dear boy," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
Cecilia reached out to hold the old woman's hand. "There's something else," she continued. "I discovered that while searching for my niece, I also found a boy at Wool's orphanage in London. He's a wizard, and he's your grandson."
Lady Mary's eyes widened in astonishment. "My grandson? I believed that Merope Gaunt and the baby had perished during childbirth. My goodness! Thomas deceived us. Where could he be?"
Cecilia smiled softly. "He's safe, but he's in need of a family. I thought... perhaps you might want to meet him."
A glimmer of hope returning to her eyes, the old woman's face lit up. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I would like that very much."
And so, Cecilia and Lady Mary embarked on a new journey, bound by grief and the shared desire to bring light into the darkness of their lives.