3
Professor Minerva McGonagall stood sternly across from Professor Severus Snape with her sharp spectacles perched on the edge of her nose. The air was tense as Monty faced both professors, flanked by his thirteen siblings and a small group of close friends. Mr. Sallow and Mr. Gaunt occupied two worn wooden chairs nearby, their expressions revealing curiosity and apprehension. Mr. Sallow had his intense gaze locked onto McGonagall and Snape, while Mr. Gaunt, his head tilted slightly, appeared deep in thought but was attentive to the unfolding exchange.
Monty crossed his arms tightly over his chest, a defensive posture that reflected his wariness. He narrowed his eyes, challenging the professors. "How did you find us? I thought we were safe, hidden away from prying eyes," he demanded, his voice low yet resolute.
"Fleamont," McGonagall began, her tone tinged with concern, "everyone believed you were dead, along with your siblings. They thought that—" She hesitated, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. She almost uttered the name that sent shivers through the wizarding world, the name that many feared to speak.
"Voldemort?" Monty interjected, raising an eyebrow at the professors, who visibly tensed at the mention of the name. McGonagall's gasp was one of shock, while Snape's expression hardened, his dark eyes narrowing.
Monty rolled his eyes, frustration and defiance washing over him. He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped forward, his voice gaining strength. "Before my mum and dad were murdered, they told me not to fear Voldemort or even the name itself. I remember vividly how he took their lives; it's a memory that haunts us all. My siblings know the truth, and they deserve to understand what happened to our parents just as much as I do. So, I want to know why you've come here." His tone was firm, demanding answers.
McGonagall took a small, deliberate step forward, her expression softening slightly, and reached into the folds of her robe. After a moment, she produced a sealed envelope and handed it to Monty with a gentle yet authoritative gesture. Monty's gaze flicked down to the parchment, and he recognized the Hogwarts crest embossed on the front – it was a letter of acceptance to the esteemed school.
Monty sighed softly, the weight of conflicting emotions pulling him in different directions. He looked up at the two professors, his brows furrowing with the gravity of the situation. He knew the offer to attend Hogwarts was monumental, a chance to embrace his magical heritage, yet the thought of leaving his family behind felt unbearable. He turned to Mr. Sallow and Mr. Gaunt, offering them a reassuring nod. Despite the uncertainty, he knew he was ready to take this step. "I promise I will go to Hogwarts," he declared, the resolve in his voice strengthening his commitment.
“It’s not like you have a choice, Potter,” Snape sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he stood before Monty, who shot him a furious glare.
“I do have a choice, Snape. Since I was six years old, I’ve raised my siblings. Mr. Sallow and Mr. Gaunt didn’t even know our parents were dead until I dared to tell them. I’m just ten, but I’ve had to mature quickly. I can’t afford to be a child. I must be strong for Willow, Jasmine, Rosa, and little Rose. They were only three days old when our parents were brutally murdered. It’s been tough. I walked for days with my siblings clinging to me, navigating through the perilous terrain before we finally stumbled upon Feldcroft. I always knew I’d get a letter from Hogwarts, but I was uncertain if attending would be an option. Who would look after my younger siblings—Sirius, Baelfire, Jim, Matt, Penny, Harry, Mia, Char, Azalea, and the four little ones? The weight of that responsibility sat heavily on my shoulders. That’s when I decided to confide in Mr. Sallow, along with Agatha, Eli, and Isaiah, about the painful truth surrounding my parents’ death. Mr. Sallow took it upon himself to inform Mr. Gaunt of everything that had happened. To my surprise, they assured me they would ensure my siblings were safe and looked after while Agatha and I attended Hogwarts. I felt relief wash over me when I learned that Matt and Penny’s dog would be there to keep the little ones company. So, don’t you dare say that I don’t have a choice in this matter? If I genuinely don’t want to go to Hogwarts, then I don’t have to because I am their caregiver,” Monty snapped, eyes blazing with a mix of defiance and fierce love as he stood resolutely before Snape.
The group was enveloped in an uneasy silence, seemingly lost in their thoughts. Monty felt a soft nudge against his leg and instinctively looked down. At first, he assumed Rose was looking for attention, but his heart sank when he realized it was Snuggles, the family dog. The canine stared up at him, his grey eyes filled with a profound sadness that reflected Monty's feelings. With a heavy sigh, Monty forced a small, melancholic smile and reached down to stroke Snuggles' head, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of his furry friend.
Shifting his gaze back to the two professors sitting across from him, he sensed the weight of their concern. "What if Severus and I send someone here to look after your siblings?" McGonagall proposed her voice steady yet tinged with compassion.
Monty shot back his response before fully processing her words. "No," he insisted, his voice more potent than he felt. "I trust Mr. Sallow and Mr. Gaunt to keep an eye on my siblings." He wanted to believe that his neighbors could be counted on, but the worry gnawed at him.
McGonagall's expression softened, but her following words struck a nerve. "I know you were only six when your parents died, Fleamont," she said, using his full name in a way that made him cringe. It was a reminder of his past that he would rather forget. "However, do you remember someone named Remus Lupin?"
A sudden wave of tension coursed through Monty, and he felt anger rise within him. Yes, he remembered Remus Lupin. The memories came flooding back, though he wasn't exactly sure who had ever shared them with him. What he did recall was that Remus was a werewolf. Whispers between his parents and a darker-haired man—someone he couldn't quite picture—had lingered in his mind. They had wondered aloud who had revealed this dark truth to Monty. It didn't matter, though; that knowledge's essence remained, filling him with unease. He had always disliked the notion of werewolves, and the idea of having someone like Lupin watch over his vulnerable siblings horrified him.
"Yes, I remember who Remus Lupin is," Monty replied sharply, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. "I only remember because someone told me he's a dark creature that will turn you into a werewolf. I don't want a werewolf watching my siblings! How can you even ask me to consider that?" His words hung heavily in the air, fueled by fear and protectiveness.
"I believe you two mentioned that you hold positions as professors at Hogwarts, correct?" inquired Mr. Gaunt, his voice dripping with skepticism as he scrutinized them.
"Yes, we are indeed professors," replied Snape, his tone icy and condescending, betraying little willingness to engage in pleasantries.
Mr. Gaunt's expression hardened as he continued, "Then I must ask, in Merlin's bread, what could possess you to consider a dark creature like a werewolf suitable for raising children? Werewolves are inherently unpredictable. Children's safety should be your utmost priority; allowing a creature of such temperament near them suggests a gross neglect of that duty. There's a reason the Ministry has deemed werewolves unfit to be guardians for young wizards and witches," he stated, his voice now laced with a hint of righteous indignation.
As he stepped closer to Monty, placing a firm hand on his shoulder for emphasis, he added, "I may be blind, but I am not easily fooled. Fleamont, while carrying the surname Potter, is still part of the esteemed Sallow and Gaunt lineage. Sebastian and I have observed the Potter children closely. If it were to come to our attention that you were allowing a werewolf to access our great-grandchildren or any of the Potter children, there would be serious consequences. We would have no choice but to withdraw our great-grandchildren and the Potter children from Hogwarts and immediately report your actions to the Ministry of Magic. Do I make myself clear, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape?"
An uncomfortable silence engulfed the room for a moment, the weight of Mr. Gaunt's words hanging heavy in the air. McGonagall and Snape exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. It took several long seconds before they finally replied, their voices barely above a whisper, "Yes."
Monty felt a presence looming behind him and instinctively tilted his head back, catching sight of Mr. Sallow. The elderly man's face was etched with displeasure, resembling a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. The tension in the air was palpable; it was as if the two professors could be rendered unconscious by the daggers shooting from Mr. Sallow's eyes.
"It's good that we have an understanding," he began, his voice low and firm. "We are throwing a birthday party for Matthew and Penelope. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, you two have overstayed your welcome. Kindly leave," Mr. Sallow insisted, his anger evident in every word he spoke.
"Of course," Professor McGonagall replied, her tone measured but tinged with annoyance. She nodded slightly, indicating her acceptance of his directive. "Mr. Potter and Ms. Sallow, we'll see you on the 1st of September," she added, the warmth of her smile tempered by the situation.
The two professors apparated away with a faint crack of noise, leaving behind a charged silence. Monty turned to Matt and Penny, a broad smile spreading across his face as the atmosphere lightened once more. The party resumed its joyful rhythm, and laughter filled the air as games and chatter returned.
However, not everyone was caught up in the merriment. Snuggles, the family dog, remained fixed in his spot, eyes locked on where McGonagall and Snape once stood. His expression mirrored a mix of sadness and anger as he absorbed the conversation about a man named Remus Lupin. The mention of Lupin casts a shadow over the festivities for Snuggles, leaving him longing.
But that heaviness lifted almost instantly when he sensed movement nearby. His ears perked up, and he stood to attention, tail wagging enthusiastically as he spotted Rosebud Potter, the youngest member of the Potter family, approaching him with a bright smile. With a bounce in his step, Snuggles padded over to her, and together, they made their way back to the celebration, ready to join the others in the joyous chaos of Matt's and Penny's seventh birthday party.
"Who does that man think he is?!" Severus Snape snarled, his dark eyes narrowing with indignation. "He believes he knows more about that boy than I do!"
Minerva McGonagall regarded him with a blend of sympathy and caution. "Severus, you've never even met the boy. Yes, I understand that you and Lily were once friends. That bond, however, ended long before Fleamont Potter entered the picture." She paused, biting her lip, and leaned back in her chair to gather her thoughts. "Nevertheless, you're right about one thing: that man had no right to address us condescendingly."
"What man are you talking about?"
Their conversation was interrupted as Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout stepped into Minerva's office, the warmth of the moment replaced with an air of curiosity. Ignoring the tension, Minerva continued, her tone brisk and informative. "According to Mr. Potter, the man's name is Mr. Gaunt and his companion goes by Sebastian Sallow."
Filius's eyes widened in disbelief, a gasp escaping his lips. "I thought both the Gaunt and Sallow families were long gone! How could there be descendants?"
Severus, his brow furrowed in confusion, pressed for information. "And how do you know about these families?"
Filius straightened slightly, his scholarly demeanor momentarily taking over. "The Gaunt family descends from Salazar Slytherin himself. Their existence had been presumed extinguished after Merope Gaunt vanished from history. I once read something fascinating regarding an incident from 1890—the Goblin Rebellion. There was a young witch, along with a lad, who attempted to intervene during that tumultuous time. A name that popped up repeatedly was Beatrice Sharp, while the boy was noted only once—Sebastian Sallow. No one knows what became of them after the account abruptly halted."
Minerva gasped softly, her shock evident. "What did you say? Who were they?"
Pomona Sprout's brow knitted in confusion, trying to piece together this new revelation. "Filius, you asked me previously to investigate the Sharp family. I didn't find much about Beatrice but discovered something intriguing. She had a twin sister named Clementine Sharp. It appears she gained much notoriety after becoming a writer in the Wizarding world. Interestingly enough, she married into the Prince family."
Severus's head snapped up at the mention of her name, his annoyance transforming into disbelief. "What?! You're telling me I have a connection to Clementine?"
Filius leaned forward, sensing the surprise in Severus's voice. "Did you not know? Clementine was part of your family line, Severus."
Shaking his head, Severus felt the weight of lost knowledge overwhelm him. "No, I never met a single member of my mother's side of the family. My father disdained anything to do with magic. Why didn't you mention this if you knew her connection to me?"
The room fell silent as the implications of Severus's heritage began to sink in for all of them, the air heavy with both past and present mysteries intertwining.
– July 1st, 1986 –
Monty and Agatha wandered through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, their eyes wide with wonder at the sights and sounds around them. Accompanying them was Mr. Sallow, Agatha's great-grandfather, whose wise eyes sparkled with delight at the excitement of the two ten-year-olds. Today was exceptional; they had just completed an exhilarating visit to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, where the marble floors and towering goblins had left them in awe.
As they strolled, Mr. Sallow paused, glancing down at Monty and Agatha, who were both on the cusp of their eleventh birthdays. Agatha's birthday was just around the corner on the 31st of August, while Monty would follow closely with his own celebration on the 1st of September. Mr. Sallow had thought they would start their schooling at Hogwarts the following year, but a realization dawned on him — the time had come sooner than he had anticipated.
"Alright, what do we need to tackle first on our shopping excursion, Fleamont and Agatha?" he asked, a light smile playing on his lips as he addressed them affectionately.
Eagerly, the two friends turned their attention to the list in Agatha's hands, their curiosity piqued. Agatha cleared her throat, ready to read aloud. "The first item is 'Uniform.'"
Monty leaned in closer to examine the list. "It states that we need three sets of plain black work robes, a single pointed hat in black for daytime wear, one pair of protective gloves—dragonhide or something similar, and a cozy black winter cloak adorned with silver fastenings. Oh, there's a note here—our robes must have name tags sewn into them," he read, excitement and a bit of anxiety creeping into his voice as he processed the requirements for their upcoming adventure at Hogwarts.
"Well then, we'd better make our way to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions without delay," Mr. Sallow suggested enthusiastically, eager to kick off their shopping spree and ensure the children had everything they needed for their magical journey.
Monty and Agatha walked through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, their excitement palpable as they approached a quaint little shop. It was adorned with colorful robes hanging in the windows, and the sight of it made Monty's heart race with anticipation. As they stepped inside, a bell sounded softly above them, announcing their arrival.
Inside, they found themselves in a cozy space filled with the rich scent of fabric and various magical items. A young girl stood on a stool in one corner as a woman deftly measured her robes. This woman, known as Madam Malkin, looked up briefly, her warm smile revealing a welcome familiarity with the ritual of fitting students for their new school uniforms.
"Welcome! Either send the girl or boy first," she instructed, expertly adjusting the measuring tape around the girl's shoulders.
Monty shot a quick, encouraging smile at Agatha, his companion, before stepping onto the stool with a mixture of nerves and eagerness. Just as he found his balance, Madam Malkin turned her attention elsewhere, leaving him in an anxious limbo.
As he glanced sideways, Monty noticed the girl next to him in detail. She had dark brown hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders and bright, expressive brown eyes that seemed to sparkle enthusiastically.
The girl looked at him with an engaging smile. "Hello, I'm Irene Prince. And you are?" Her voice was cheerful and inviting, adding warmth to the moment.
"I'm Monty Potter," he replied, glancing at Agatha, who appeared to be studying them with narrowed eyes—a look that made him slightly uneasy.
"Are you excited for Hogwarts?" Irene continued, her curiosity evident as she focused entirely on Monty.
"Yeah," he answered, trying to match her enthusiasm but distracted by Agatha's unusual demeanor.
Irene's face lit up even more as she delved into conversation. "I had a family member who used to be a potions professor at Hogwarts! My family is known for our exceptional skills in potion-making—there's quite a legacy to live up to, and it would be a disgrace if we weren't great at it. I can't wait for the potions class!" She rambled on excitedly about her family's accomplishments in potion-making, her words flowing like a bubbling cauldron.
Monty felt his excitement dull slightly, as the topic of potions wasn't precisely what he had been hoping to discuss. He rolled his eyes, trying to conceal his impatience as Irene continued her animated commentary. Just as he thought he might find a way to interject, Madam Malkin returned, her presence breaking their conversation with the professional certainty of a skilled tailor.
As the fitting concluded, Madam Malkin smiled at Irene, saying, "All done! You are all good to go, dear."
Irene turned to Monty, her smile never wavering. "See you at Hogwarts, Monty!" she chimed before hopping off the stool and breezing out of the shop, leaving Monty momentarily speechless as he hadn't managed to respond before she exited. He watched her go, feeling a mix of intrigue and curiosity.
After Monty and Agatha received their crisp, black robes for Hogwarts, they stepped out into the bustling street, the warm afternoon sun casting a golden glow over everything. The excitement in the air was palpable, and both couldn't help but smile at the prospect of their new adventure. Just behind them, Mr. Sallow approached curiously as he adjusted his robes.
"What's next on the list, kids?" he asked, his voice light and encouraging, his eyes sparkling with interest.
Monty and Agatha exchanged a quick glance, and Agatha's hand tightened around the bulging parchment list. The carefully written names of their required books were lined up, each sparking a sense of eagerness in their hearts. Monty broke the silence. First, his voice filled with enthusiasm, "Books!"
Agatha took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the list. "We need to get The Standard Books of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, and finally, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble." Her voice rang out clearly, the titles flowing like spells.
"Sounds like a hefty list!" Mr. Sallow chuckled, glancing at the long string of titles with an amused shake. "Let's make our way to Flourish and Blotts Bookseller, then. I hear they have quite the selection." His infectious enthusiasm filled his tone, making visiting the bookstore all the more exciting.
With that, the trio set off, their footsteps echoing on the cobblestones as they navigated through the vibrant market street of Diagon Alley, the scent of fresh parchment and old books floating through the air, drawing them closer to their next stop.
As Monty strolled down the cobbled path toward the bustling store, he consciously tried to keep pace with his close friend, Agatha. Trailing a short distance behind, Mr. Sallow—Agatha's great-grandfather—followed with a gentle yet watchful demeanor. Neither Monty nor Agatha was aware that their conversation could be overheard by him.
"Agatha, are you alright?" Monty inquired, concern etched across his face as he glanced at her. He could sense her mood was off, a feeling that lingered between them like a shadow.
"Yep," Agatha replied curtly, her eyes fixed on the ground ahead.
Monty's brow furrowed as he continued, "I don't believe that. I saw you glaring at that girl in Madam Malkin's Robes just a moment ago. What was that about?"
"It's nothing," she shot back, her tone defensive as she glanced away from him, almost as if the mere mention of the girl aroused irritation.
Monty wasn't ready to let it go. "Agatha," he began, but his words were abruptly cut off when Agatha snapped back, her voice laced with frustration, "I don't want to talk about it, Fleamont!"
A silence hung between them, and Monty felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Realizing he had pushed too far, he slowed and gestured for Mr. Sallow to do the same. They paused just outside Flourish and Blotts, glancing at each other with uncertainty.
"Mr. Sallow," Monty started, his voice filled with apprehension and regret, "I don't know what I did wrong. I'm really sorry if I upset your granddaughter."
With a warm yet reassuring smile, Mr. Sallow placed a comforting hand on Monty's shoulder. "Fleamont, it has nothing to do with you, I promise. Sometimes, children have their own battles to fight. Now, let's focus on getting the books on our list."
Monty nodded, grateful for the kindness, and they stepped together into the inviting atmosphere of Flourish and Blotts. The shop was filled with the rich aroma of old parchment and ink, and the shelves teemed with an array of tomes, each holding its secrets waiting to be uncovered.