WHO: Gerald & Valkyrie Avery. WHAT: The father-daughter duo discuss the Imperius Curse and the future. WHEN: 27 March. WHERE: The Avery Estate. WARNINGS: None.
Val had prepared herself for the speech she was about to give to her father, but even as she headed towards his office, her stomach seemed to be in knots. She drew in a breath as she approached the door and raised a fist to knock on the door, but she hesitated. Did she really need to know all the information? She'd been angry, sure, but she didn't really want to be so involved, unlike all the men in her life.
But a curious part of her brain urged her to do it. She wanted to know.
The youngest Avery knocked on the door, waited for her father's 'come in', and opened the door. "Hi dad, are you busy?" she asked, smiling a bit. "I was hoping we could have a little chat, but I can come back another time," Val added quickly. "It's not so urgent!" She followed it up with a sweet smile, all the same.
With a puff of acrid lavender smoke, Gerald’s latest artistic endeavour stilled to lifelessness in the corner of his office and he turned his gaze to his youngest. He always loved and admired his children for their talents; talents which would ensure the wizarding world grew and prospered beyond their Muggle counterparts. But their talent had to be nurtured in differing ways. He had been distant with Dante, only recently allowing him to be teacher. Keats merely required support. But Valkyrie?
Valkyrie was afforded his full attention.
“Come in, darling. Sit.” Tea and scones immediately materialised on a silver tray on the corner of his desk.
She headed to her preferred seat and immediately reached for a scone, only then realising how she'd been hungry. She took a bite from the scone — with the pristine attitude that she needed to have, naturally — and wiped the crumbs off with a napkin.
A moment later, Val glanced at her father, a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She didn't know why she was nervous. She'd approached the Avery patriarch with far worse subjects.
"I was hoping you'd —," she started, her voice wavering a bit. "I want to learn about the Imperius Curse. In theory, it sounds incredibly fascinating, but I'm afraid I don't know the intricate details and I'd like to know so." She cast Gerald a curious look, though her curiosity in that particular moment came off looking a bit more naive than she'd intended.
Gerald blinked, staid in the face of Valkyrie’s admission. To be true, he had expected his daughter to begin showing interest and proclivity for all things Dark long ago and to come to him now brought the corner of his mouth tugging upward. He offered her a bright nod.
“Curiosity, my darling? Or for a particular reason?”
"No particular reason, no," Val interjected quickly, though seeing her father's smile gave her affirmation that he was more than willing to take on this task. She straightened her posture, and drew in a breath, before delving into another mini-speech. "I'm curious about how it works. The mechanics of it, I suppose. Uncle Hugo had urged me to take more of an interest in these things and while sometimes I wonder if —," she paused momentarily, trying to gather her words so that it came off more dignified than it did in her head, "— if I have the persona to do more substantial tasks for the Dark Lord, I think maybe… not."
She cast him a doubtful look as she took another bite of her scone. She chewed on it for a moment, and swallowed it before continuing. "I don't doubt that there is a method to these things, but I find the Imperius to be the most interesting. It has powers that the Cruciatus doesn't, and I'd save the Killing Curse for the last resort."
Val giggled nervously. "Sorry, dad, that got kind of ramble-y."
“Oh no, it was very honest.” Gerald sat closer - an indulgent gesture - and spread his hands upon his knees. “And I appreciate that. Growing up with Dark Magic, and with your family as close to the fight as any, it doesn’t surprise me that you are curious.” He paused.
“More than anything, I find the Imperius Curse to be the Unforgivable which requires the most finesse. It requires a strength of will that few possess, but it can get the most done. The other two are blunt force tools - useful, effective - but none so convenient as the Imperius Curse.”
Valkyrie remained quiet and attentive as her father spoke, taking in every word with earnest attention. It requires a strength of will that few possess. That statement alone sent a shiver down her spine, half with curiosity and half with excitement.
She didn't reply immediately after he spoke, as she thought of how to phrase her next question as more of a student rather than something else. She took another bite of the scone she'd been holding onto, to pass the seconds as she thought, and set it down on the plate. Once the nibbling had ceased, she caught her father's eye and raised one brow.
"Do you think you could do it to me? I want to know how it feels like."
Gerald’s thin lips pressed into a line as he considered his daughter’s request, a nagging doubt at the back of his mind making it required that he address the thought that continued to bubble up in his mind.
“Of course I believe that, in order to cast an effective Imperius Curse, one must know fully its effects. But there are steps to get there. I would not use the Imperius Curse without good reason, my girl. Do you want to know how to use it?” He paused, letting the words fall softly as he leaned closer to her.
“Or are you making plans should your father and your brothers fail?”
"I don't —" Valkyrie seemed genuinely shocked by that idea, as some bouts of confusion settled in. She gulped, and turned to her father, trying her best to keep calm and keep her face completely expressionless.
She'd entertained thoughts of it in the past, certainly — about their side not winning, but she didn't truly believe it. They were winning. They would ultimately be victorious.
And yet, here she was.
She hung her head, willing herself to keep any unwanted tears from pooling in her eyes. "I don't think you're going to fail, dad," she found the courage to say.
His hand -- gnarled with age, with active life -- settled upon her shoulder, sliding to her cheek to encourage her to look at him. “Valkyrie, look at me.” A breath, as he waited for her eyes. “I don’t believe - as some do - that our ladies be out of the thick of Dark magic, but I’ve wanted you to live a life chosen and plotted by yourself. One that you could proudly call your own. But I have never been a wizard to put my head in the sand and hope for the best.”
A beat. Tom would scream if he were to hear these unbidden thoughts. But Tom didn’t have children - a life lived with a mark made, a name to uphold beyond him - and couldn’t know the importance of contingency. “But if we should fail, so that you can continue to live and live well, knowing the Imperius might be a good defence for you. So call it curiosity, darling. But also call it security.”
Valkyrie let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding and immediately let both of her hands circle around her father, pulling him into a hug. She hated to think of what might go wrong, but she knew he was right — it might be a good defence for her.
A pang in her stomach, ridden with guilt, felt timely as her thoughts wandered over to her brothers. Strong, unshakeable Dante and sweet, noble Keats. Dante was to become a father! Keats had just bought a vineyard with her!
She finally let her father go and pulled back, clearing her throat. "Does mum have security, too? And —," she was hesitant, but had to add: "And Violet?"
His embrace was tight. He was proud of Valkyrie, willing to entertain the outcomes borne from having to stare into the abyss. She would survive. “Your mother,” he said carefully, “has instructions and a portkey to the family in Scandinavia. Dante will make arrangements for Violet and the child.”
He leaned back, and a fresh pot of tea materialised where the first had been. He poured himself a cup and turned to gaze at her askance. “But your life is here.”
"Maybe I should be with mum in Scandinavia," Valkyrie was quick to reply, despite knowing only very little of the language, and not all that familiar with Scandinavia in general.
But she relented and nodded. Her life was here. Valkyrie reached for the teapot, as well, following Gerald's lead and once her teacup was full, she raised it to her lips. "My life is here," she accepted. "And perhaps I've been under your Imperius for the past — two years?"
“And it’s strengthened daily, meant to keep you pliant. You wanted to go to the authorities years ago,” he agreed. With another sip of tea, he smiled at last. “Thus the Avery legacy is secure, no matter the outcome.”
Valkyrie finally found the courage to match his smile and she nodded. "No matter the outcome." Though the knots in her stomach weren't satisfied with that statement, her brain would happily dissect it another day. For now, the legacy was secure.