Hi guys, how are you?
As Athenodora is an original character and is not part of the official Harry Potter universe, I created this prologue so that you can learn more about her story, her family and her past. In my fanfic, she is the daughter of Augustus Rookwood, the only member of her family that exists in the franchise and who, as we know, was a Death Eater.
Aimee Rookwood, born Aimee Leblanc, never had a choice. Since she was little, she knew that her life was not hers. She grew up hearing that women from her lineage existed to marry well, have children and ensure the continuity of the family. Dreams? Wants? None of that mattered. So, at eighteen, she packed her bags and crossed the sea to become the wife of a man she barely knew. Augustus Rookwood, a British man in his late forties, serious, reserved and, above all, a stranger.
On her wedding day, as they combed her hair and decorated her like a doll, Aimee tried not to think. Not thinking about how your life would change from then on. Not thinking that, that night, she would have to share a bed with a man she didn't choose. But when she first saw him as her husband, reality hit her like a punch in the gut. Augustus wasn't violent, but he wasn't kind either. His gaze was cold, calculating, as if he had already weighed her and measured her, decided her worth before they had even exchanged a word. The kiss at the altar was dry, without affection. A formality.
In the first few months of marriage, Aimee tried to adapt. She tried to like her husband, or at least accept her new life without feeling so disgusted. But it was difficult. Augustus was methodical, demanding, and saw her as just a duty to be fulfilled. It didn't matter how much he smiled, how much he tried to fill that marriage with something other than obligations. For him, love was an irrelevant concept. The important thing was the lineage. Aimee soon understood this when she became pregnant for the first time.
When his daughter was born, Augustus did not hide his disappointment. A girl. A failure. Aimee realized the moment he took Athenodora in his arms that, for him, the child was a mistake to be corrected. A mere detour on the path to the true heir. And if before the nights in the couple's bedroom were a burden for Aimee, after the birth of her daughter they became a torment. Because now, Augustus wanted to try again, and he always came back, again and again.
Months later, Aimee became pregnant once again. This time, the pregnancy was accompanied by suffocating pressure. Everyone expected her to do the right thing, to give her husband a son. When she finally gave birth, Augustus smiled. A boy. Lysander. He didn't even glance at his exhausted wife before holding the baby in his arms and proclaiming that the Rookwood bloodline was safe. Aimee wanted to feel something, pride, relief, anything, but all she felt was exhaustion.
Then, a year later, the news came. Augustus Rookwood, arrested. Sentenced to Azkaban for being a Death Eater. Aimee knew before she even got a visit from the Aurors why the house looked... different. Lighter. For the first time in years, the air wasn't thick with her husband's presence. For the first time, she could breathe without fear that he would come with orders, demands, dirty looks.
She was free. But I was also lost.
All her life, Aimee had followed orders. First from his father, then from Augustus. He never had to make decisions, he never had to think about a future beyond what was imposed on him. Now, she was alone, with two young children and a name tarnished by her cheating husband. What would you do? Where would you go?
In the first few days after her arrest, Aimee wavered between relief and panic. There were moments when she smiled alone, delighting in the silence of the house without Augustus. But then she remembered that the outside world saw her as "the woman of Rookwood," the wife of a criminal.
But if there was one thing that was still his, it was his children. Athenodora and Lysander. No one could take them away from her. However, Aimee was still a woman of values. She grew up in a family that taught her, from birth, about the superiority of purebloods. Marriage to Augustus Rookwood had not brought her happiness, but it had given her a position, a respected name within the select circle of wizarding society. And, above all, it gave him the certainty that his lineage would remain pure.
She never questioned the cause Augustus was fighting for. On the contrary, he shared their beliefs. For Aimee, Muggles and Muggle-borns were a plague, a contamination that forced wizards like her to hide, to repress their true power. The world should belong to those who were born with magic running through their veins. It was an injustice that, because of Muggles, wizards had to live in the shadows, as if they were criminals.
And if Augustus was no longer there to teach his children this, Aimee would take this responsibility upon herself.
Year after year, he made a point of instilling in Athenodora and Lysander contempt for inferiors. It wasn't enough for them to simply know they were better, they needed to feel it, live it. Blood purity was a privilege and a responsibility. Muggles, half-bloods, and Muggle-borns were not worthy of respect, and Aimee made sure to remind them of that at every opportunity.
She educated them rigorously, surrounding them with tradition, removing any influence she considered undesirable. A Rookwood didn't mix. A Rookwood didn't lower his head. A Rookwood was unapologetic about being who he was.
And so, even in Augustus' absence, his legacy lived on.