Violet Slughorn (laodicean) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-06-03 15:55:00 |
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Of the grand-nephews and nieces, Violet had always been the one who was closest to their great-uncle Horace. Even though she’d seen him over the holidays, it felt much longer. Probably because the dark magic that kept the Professors from speaking out prevented them from having a proper conversation this school year. Now that they had tea in hand and no audience, they’d had the chance to share their full stories. “Wow,” Violet said, blinking after her great-uncle shared his greatest shame. “Those Horcrux things are...horrifying, but I’m impressed that you knew about them. I’m even more impressed that you stood up to and dueled You-Kn...V-voldemort.” She winced, looking around in case the taboo curse was still active. Nothing happened. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Horace Slughorn tensed for a moment, then relaxed. “I should have stood up to him with Albus long ago. I’m impressed that you hacked the Department of Mysteries, my girl! Did you find anything interesting?” “It’s the Department of Mysteries, Uncle Horace,” Violet replied with a grin. “It’s all interesting!” Her great-uncle chuckled at that. “Of course it is. So...are you going back to the Ministry?” Violet nodded. “The Ministry needs good people to undo the damage the Death Eaters did to it. I have a responsibility to help however I can.” She had a sip of her tea and looked curiously at him. “Are you going back to Hogwarts? You’ve more than earned your retirement, Uncle Horace.” “I have a responsibility, too,” replied Horace. He stared down at the cup held in his old withered hands. “So many of my former students became Death Eaters...and some of them now have relatives who are dead or in Azkaban for their crimes. I need to do a better job of guiding the younger generation.” “You’ll be brilliant at it.” Violet was adamant about this. She placed her hand on her belly. “In fact, I’m so sure of it that I’m naming the little lad Isaac Horace Slughorn.” Setting his cup down, Horace got up slowly from his chair and approached. He held his hand out, but didn’t touch her belly until she nodded her assent. Luckily for her great-uncle, it took very little time before the baby kicked in greeting. “Well, little Isaac,” he said, blinking back tears, “I’ll try to be the role model you deserve. I look forward to meeting my first great-grand-nephew soon.” July 24th, 2026 - Nice, France Although he looked more like her than Dante, a few Avery traits came through. The way Isaac fussed about getting exactly the right decorations for his birthday party tomorrow reminded Violet a little of Val, and Isaac had already shown a gift for painting that would have delighted Keats. Much to her amusement, Isaac had insisted on writing out all the place cards for his guests himself in the best calligraphy an (almost) eight year old could muster. Violet took to charming the balloons for him, tying ribbon around them and setting them up just so. Isaac inspected their handiwork afterward with an approving nod. “Too bad I wasn’t born a few days later, Maman,” he remarked. “We could have shared the same birthday! Wouldn’t that be cool?” It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, (and not only because of the sixteen hours she’d spent in labour on July 25th 2018) but she simply replied, “I think it’s better that we have a day where we just celebrate you, Chou. Then we can do the things you like on your birthday, and the things I like on mine.” Pondering this for a moment, Isaac conceded, “Oh. That makes sense.” He fidgeted, fumbling with his hands in the way he did when he wasn’t sure of himself and thought he might get in trouble for doing something he wasn't supposed to. “What is it?” she asked. “Did you use one of the good glasses for water to clean your paintbrushes again?” Isaac shook his head, and looked away before asking, “Will you tell me about my father? Not Papa...the one in jail.” Five years ago, Violet met Louis Montmorency at a magical research convention in France. Though pureblood, he dodged society parties, having turned away from purism in his late teens. The two research enthusiasts hit it off, and not once had Louis ever been bothered by the fact that she had a child. Nor had he complained about having to visit via portkey. Three years ago, she’d married him, and Louis adopted Isaac as his own. It was love, rather than running from her past, that had Violet resign from Britain’s Ministry and move to France permanently to become a full time researcher. Still, for all the love that Louis bestowed on Isaac, she knew one day this question would come up. Louis was Isaac’s father by choice, but not by birth. “Of course, Isaac.” She took out her laptop, flipped it on, and walked over to the couch in the next room, motioning for her son to join her. “Some people would tell you that all of the Death Eaters were totally evil, but that’s a lie that they tell themselves because it’s much scarier to admit that normal people can make such evil choices. Most of them had families and friends that they loved, just like anyone else.” She logged into the private Wiztube channel she’d created shortly after leaving Dante. Isaac peered at it curiously. Violet slung an arm around him affectionately. “Even though I left him before you were born, I still wanted Dante to have a chance to say a few words to you. I think you’re old enough now.” |