Hogwarts
8th September, 1938
Walburga yawned. She was tired. Too much tired. The first week was done and… it was dull. She was thankful her parents started to train her and Alphard two years prior, but it was boring now. She was, most of the time, lingering on the unknown three Slytherin.
Mathilde was not properly ‘unknown’. As Grindelwald’s child, she was known in the pureblood community. There were rumours, her father told her through a letter, that Mathilde’s mother was Melania Selwyn, an English pureblood witch who disappeared from Britain in 1905 circa and never appeared after. The Selwyn family said that she simply married an Austrian. And Grindelwald was Austrian. But nobody had the certainty she married Grindelwald. Mathilde was a smart girl, surely, and like her and Alphard, she was good. If it wasn’t for the language barrier with some spells, Mathilde would have been the top of the class.
Antonin was a Dolohov. She heard them, the Dolohov family was powerful in Russia, not like the Black in England, of course. Alexandr Dolohov was a member of the Magical Russian Parliament and, like Great-Uncle Lord Sirius here in England, the Head of the Parliament. And Antonin was most likely the Heir. She still wondered if Antonin was really his son or a nephew. And nothing assured her he was the first boy of the family. Antonin was quiet, always, it was becoming rather boring that he would have been there the whole time and not saying a word.
Tom. He was the most unknown. She had never heard of a “Riddle” before. But he couldn’t be mudblood, could he? Come on, a mudblood in Slytherin? That was… the worst it could ever happen. And he was in Alphard’s dormitory! Well, knowing Abraxas and Icarus, if he was mudblood, they would have thrown him out of the dormitory, and maybe even of the common room. So, was he a half-blood? That was the only explanation. And God, she would have never talked to him. Absolutely. But she couldn’t deny that Tom was smart. Book smart. She saw him reading a lot, always, instead of socializing, which was dumb, according to her: you can read and socialize. Right? And his second-hand robes… he was not a rich boy, like everybody else. Where was he coming from?
Her train of thoughts got interrupted when Alphard dramatically sighed and sat next to her.
“Tired?”
“Like hell.”
“Language.”
“Sorry, mum.” he jested.
“Call me like that again and you will see that I’m worse than mother.” she snarled.
“Yes, ma’am.”
God, sometimes she wanted to punch him in the face… well that was not very lady-like, but she couldn’t stop herself from at least thinking it.
“Why are you tired? Our biggest issue is writing essays. And we only got two.” she asked still.
“I don’t know. Maybe because Evan snorts in his sleep! – Alphard said, his tone of sarcasm at full – If you try to sleep after he starts snorting, I assure you, you will not fall asleep.”
“And the Muffliato charm?”
Alphard looked at her like she was the smartest girl in the world.
“You are a lifesaver, you know?”
“No, you are simply idiotic.”
And how come 5 people – well 3, she didn’t know if Dolohov and Riddle would have known it – didn’t thought about it earlier? Mah, boys.
“Language.” he rebutted.
She thought it was now the moment to make the right question.
“A question: Riddle is…”
“Half-blood. - Alphard answered, understanding where his sister was going. – that is what he claims. He says that his father was a wizard.”
“Riddle? A wizard? A wizard mudblood maybe.”
“It might. Abraxas and Icarus, alongside Evan, gave him a month for prove that his father walked in Hogwarts. But I think they will forget it by tomorrow.”
“And you think he will…?”
“He was too animated to speak up that his father was a pure wizard. Well, anyway, does it matter? I mean, until he is not a mug-”
“Mudblood, Alphard. Call the name properly. And yes, it does matter.”
“Why?”
“Because I do not want you to associate yourself with those gross horrible people!”
Oh, sometimes her brother was really thick in mind. But yeah, she was looking out for him. If the older generation would have found Alphard didn’t mind having a mudblood in his dormitory, Alphard could say goodbye to the privilege of not being punished.
“Ok, yes, sorry, fine.”
“Good.”
“You think Riddle is really a mudblood?”
Again? This boy…
“Yes. Look at him! Second-hand wardrobe, never talks of his family, we never saw him.”
“But so, we never saw either Grindelwald or Dolohov.”
“Where did they grow up? Austria her, Russia him. Riddle had said he group up in London! – now her voice started to be a bit ‘know-it-all’ – Other than the fact that daring calling Grindelwald’s child a mudblood is ridiculous, and the Dolohovs are well known, according to Father. Why wouldn’t you connect with people of your age like you? The most logical answer is that he didn’t knew! He must have found out recently and here we are.”
“Ok, hey, no need to get so much work up. Mathilde and Antonin are pureblood, Tom is mudbl-”
“Riddle. For you is Riddle. He is not your friend Alphard!”
Why was he not understanding it! Alphard was the heir of their line, he had to follow the family believes, was it that hard for him?
“Ok, fine, Walburga. Act like you want.”
“I am just saying, Alphard that you have to be careful of your friendship. I’m saying, I think we had enough disownment in our family.”
“Hey, I’m not getting disowned for so little. Aunt Dorea is being court by Charlus Potter, and if you tell me he is not friend with mudbloods, you need a fact check. She is not getting disowned because of the money, I love her but it’s the truth.”
“It’s also about principles! Alphard it is wrong, you have to accept it.”
“Blah, blah, blah”
Oh, this git… She was going to hurt him.
“Want me to tell Grandfather Cygnus?”
Finally, Alphard’s mouth shut up. Well, pulling out the card “Grandfather Cygnus” was horrible, but at least he shut up.
“You wouldn’t dare.” he snarled.
“Who knows.” She spoke.
“You cannot be this awful.”
“Toujours Pur, Alphard.”
“Yeah, I know our motto, thank you very much.”
“Better remember it.”
In that moment Icarus and Diana arrived.
“What is it, Lestrange?” Alphard asked.
“Not so pushy, Black. And it’s the Great Hall and is near lunch time.” Diana said.
“Fair.” Walburga admitted.
“Alphard – Icarus spoke up – today they are holding Quidditch try-outs. Maybe we should go and see them.”
“Absolutely Yes. I need Quidditch, it is already enough I’ll not play it for the whole year. Father claims it to be a shame, but I have to follow rules.”
“What do you mean?” Diana asked.
“Well, the rules that claims first-years cannot try.”
“Ah true. Why was it posed, anyway?” Icarus pouted.
“Who knows? And anyway, it sucks. We have to wait for the Fly lesson. Which is once at week! And obviously, since we are a class, wait for the ones who cannot fly. Riddle, for starters. Remember the first day? Fell off his broom in 3 seconds. Like… really?”
“He is a mudblood, obviously flying is something he is awful at.” Walburga said.
“True, but it’s basically common knowledge. I started to fly when I was 5 years old.” Icarus said.
“Well. True. Which means he is a git in everything he does.”
“No.” Diana spoke up.
“What?”
“Mudblood or less, we cannot deny he is intelligent. And he is good in studying. He just does that.”
“Of course, he doesn’t try to be friends with us. What are we supposed to do? Cuddling baby Riddle because he is all alone?”
“Obviously not that! – Walburga giggled – We just let him be. If he doesn’t want us, that is his problem.”
“Absolutely!” Icarus agreed.
Soon the whole year of Slytherin was there. Abraxas, Evan, Icarus and Alphard planned to go at the try-outs once they finished the lessons, while Walburga, Mathilde and Antonin would have followed along, just because they wanted something to do (no, Walburga actually wanted to keep Alphard in check).
After the class of Transfiguration, they reached the field. Alphard passed it, with Abraxas, Icarus and Evan, and sometimes even Antonin’s comments, to judge every Slytherin who tried for the positions. Walburga was annoyed, she was used to this, Alphard, Cygnus and Orion always judging Quidditch, and her and Lucretia being left out because “it was not for girls.” She glanced at Mathilde.
“Grindelwald?”
“Yes?”
“Did you noticed that Dumbledore never made comments about you being your father’s child?”
“Yes, I did. It’s weird, but it’s for the better.” she answered coldly.
“Oh yes. I mean, being judged just by the actions of your dad… it must be awful.”
“Pretty much. I got lucky that nobody judges me too harshly, but yet, it is not nice.” Mathilde admitted.
“In Durmstrang you would have been treated as a legend.” Antonin commented.
“Really?” Walburga asked.
“Oh yeah. – Antonin explained, while continuing watching the try-outs. – Your dad there is well known. Like, if you do not follow him, apparently you are the worst person ever.”
“And how do you know that?” Mathilde asked.
“My cousin, older, went there. – he explained – She came back being a fully supporter of your dad. Well, not that we are n-”
“It’s ok, no need to say these things for making me happy.” Mathilde cut him off.
“It’s the truth. Everybody in Russia supports your dad. Well, not publicly, apparently, but yeah.”
Walburga felt that was too weird: like... Mathilde was not proud of her father? He was cleansing the world from mudbloods, well, not killing them, but showing the superiority of the pureblood people. Why was she not proud?