luxe - h. j. p.

two

Life went on. Julian died, Evanna and I lived, and we were happy. As happy as you can be, considering.

Julian was found the morning after his death. It was said to be done by dark wizards, by He Who Must Not Be Named's followers. Of course, the wizarding media is a load of rubbish. Why would a Dark Wizard seeking to purify the wizarding community go for my father, a prestigious pureblood? There is, of course, the fact that the Luxe family didn't take a side in the war, but that is hardly reason for murder, especially of Julian Luxe.

There is no answer as to why the headlines of every news station, from the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and even the Quibbler, had news that Julian Luxe had died tragically at the hands of Death Eaters. Plastered on the doors and windows of shops in Diagon Alley, written on the front headlines and whispered among those on the streets, all anyone saw and heard was:

"Evanna Luxe Left Alone with Nine Year Old Daughter Veronica; What Is To Become of the Noble Name of Luxe?"
"Julian Luxe Found Dead After Noble Fight With Dark Wizards"
"Veronica and Evanna - Filthy Rich, Alone, and Perhaps Vengeful?"
"Julian Luxe: In Memory of a Brave Hero."

I suppose it's something my father had put in place, so that in the case of an odd and untimely death, the Luxe name would still be held in high regards. No time was wasted for his funeral. It was a small gathering, consisting of me, my mother, and my grandmother. Everyone on my fathers side is gone, and my mother never knew her father. Nothing special. Under the radar, no questioning eyes and awkward glances. We were all safer this way, and we all knew it. He was buried six feet below a willow tree in France, near some of our property there. All of the Luxe fortune went to my mother and I, meaning my fathers childhood home in France was ours, as was our manor - my childhood home.

Time flew by. My mother was happier than I had ever seen her, smiling at the sun, singing along with the birds outside of the open windows. She had finally been freed of all the burden she'd had to go through, and though she would have torn apart heaven and hell for him at some point, that time was long gone. But if my mother is happy, I am happy. Nonetheless, that last night was something neither of us would ever forget. My mother would never forget how she left me vulnerable, how she couldn't save me from him. And I will never forget how terrified I was. I have a constant reminder, a scar in the shape of a lighting bolt on my collarbone. French porcelain digs deep, leaves traces behind.

On my tenth birthday, I discovered I too possessed magical abilities. Taking after both of my parents, I learned quickly to bend nature to my will. Though most of it was unintentional when I was younger, such as flowers growing when I walked along the grass, or trees uprooting when I was angry, I understood what I was capable of, and knew how to master my power to a certain extent. My mother and grandmother were both afraid that I was too strong (as trees coming out of the ground isn't exactly what one would expect a ten year old to be able to do just because she didn't win a game of wizards chess), but let it go. "Dumbledore and McGonagall are the best teachers I've seen, they'll do well with Ver," my mother would say. Of course, I believed her.

When my eleventh birthday came along, I got a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To say I was excited was an understatement. "Mum, do you think I'll be in Gryffindor like you and Rem?" To that my mum would smile, wink, and say, "Oh, most definitely darling. Of course, you'd make whatever house you're in proud." 

My two most viable options - Gryffindor or Slytherin. My mother also went to Hogwarts, back then she was Evanna Malfoy, cousin of the notorious Lucius Malfoy. My mother met a man named Regulus on the train ride to Hogwarts, and I suppose he left such a positive effect on her that she made him part of my life too. Reggie's my godfather, his most prized position besides being the Head of the Noble House of Black. She was sorted into Gryffindor, much to her family's dismay, and that's where she met her best friends, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black - who i must note is Reggie's rebel brother (barely a Black, Regulus always jokes), and Peter Pettigrew. She shared a dorm with Lily Evans and Marlene Mckinnon, who eventually became her lifelong friends. Eventually, she met Julian, my father. He was a transfer student from Beauxbatons in Fifth Year. They apparently "hit it off", according to Regulus, and got married as soon as they graduated. Ironic, hitting it off. Hah.

Every weekend, we have Sunday dinner at the Noble House of Black, a regal mansion owned by Reggie. Of course, Remus joins us for these dinners and Kreatcher the house elf is nothing short of polite to us, though i must say mainly due to Regulus' influence. My mother says that James and Lily also used to join us. But you know their story, and it's not mine to tell. Auntie Marls and Auntie Dorcus were present for my childhood, until tragedy struck them as well. The worst of us (i'm confident you know his tale as well), Peter, is also gone. Oh, how could I forget - of course Sirius comes along. All I can say is that, though it took a while (and lots of unlicensed therapy sessions provided by Lily and Marlene), Sirius and Regulus became close again, became brothers again. Sirius had worked out his Azkaban sentence, Pettigrew taking his place. A fair trade if you asked me, but I was never taught mercy.

Soon enough it was time for me to go to Hogwarts. Eleven years old, September First, Platform Nine and Three Quarters. I had my bags packed three days early, found an owl in Diagon Alley that I named Fresco. As I got on the train, all I could think of was that this was mine. My mother met her closest friends on this first train ride, during her time at Hogwarts. It was my turn.