𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄:
The Perfect Daughter
( 1965-1971 )
"YES, FATHER."
This is a common sentence uttered by Viviane to respond to her Father.
"A daughter of mine must be well-read. And knowledgeable. Make use of our library." Her Father says as she follows him obediently to their library. The towering double doors open into a space that seems to stretch endlessly, with high ceilings adorned by intricate moldings and captivating chandeliers that bathe the room in a warm, golden glow. Sunlight streams through tall, arched windows.
The library's walls are lined from floor to ceiling with exquisitely carved bookshelves crafted from rich, dark mahogany. The shelves house an expansive collection of books, their spines creating a mesmerizing mosaic of colors and titles. Leather-bound wizarding classics, from genres that expand to charms textbooks, herbology textbooks, and even textbooks that contain knowledge of dark magic or how to defend oneself from dark magic.
"Yes, Father." Viviane purses her lips as her eyes explore the collection of books on the dark mahogany bookshelf. She grabbed A History of Magic published in 1947 by Little Red Books. She looked behind her, seeing her Father was nowhere in sight. She sighed heavily and began reading in the center of the room, with an elegant reading table adorned with a rich velvet tablecloth.
"Your personality can be based on your handwriting. Practice your penmanship." Her Father tells her as he hands her a flat rectangular box. Viviane opened the box carefully, revealing a silver quill with emerald detailing on the feather. And the Hawthorne crest adorning the shaft. Viviane can only assume that the quill is charmed to never run out of ink because her Father had only given her a quill without the ink.
"Yes. Father." Viviane's finger lightly traced the feathers of the quill in awe at the gem that adorned it.
A week's worth of practice. Viviane's handwriting became elegant and precise compared to children her age. Because instead of playing, she spent time inside her study, practicing her handwriting. If it didn't meet her Father's expectations, she wasn't allowed to eat her meal. But of course, Weeny always brings her food secretly.
"You'll start your ballet session tomorrow." Her Father, Daniel Charles Hawthorne, brought the daily prophet down to the dark mahogany dining table. As he wraps his hand around his goblet filled with elf-made wine.
"Yes, Father," Viviane responds quietly as she takes a bite of her meal. She lost her appetite. Daniel hums as he puts down the goblet and proceeds to read his morning paper. Christine looks at her daughter with a tight lip smile as she encourages her daughter to finish her food.
A month of ballet sessions, five hours of ballet sessions, thrice a week. Viviane became a natural as to everything her Father forced her to do. She became the most graceful and poised student her Ballet Mistress ever taught.
Viviane earned an impressed nod from her Father when she performed, and Viviane thought it was all worth it.
"I'd like you to learn how to play the piano." He tells her. Daniel had heard from one of his closest friends that their child plays the piano brilliantly. He wanted that from her daughter too.
"Yes, Father," Viviane responds again. As the irritatingly familiar words rolled off her tongue.
And she excelled and showed her musical talent amongst other talents. Soon enough, her Father suggested that she learn to play the violin. Viviane earned a round of applause when she performed one of her original pieces in one of the Pureblood balls that the Sacred 28 society had hosted.
"Every pureblood fluently speaks French, and so should you." Her Father says as he hands her a beginner's guide to the French language. Suddenly a woman appears in their room dressed in a formal brown coat, with an unreadable expression on her wrinkled face, her graying hair styled tightly in a neat bun.
"Yes, Father." Viviane nods as she greets the woman before her, and the woman responds with a tight 'hmph.'
After two hours of language sessions every day for the past two months. She can fluently speak and understand French; now, her language tutor is teaching her Latin. Her Father only speaks to her in French. At the same time, her mother, Christine, happily offers to teach her to speak and understand her native language, Tagalog. Viviane is more than happy to learn to know the roots of her Filipino side—her culture.
"It is a must to learn how to present yourself in public. I need no humiliation from my own daughter." Her Father told her with a tight voice as he led her and her mother inside the ballroom. Another ball was held by one of his Father's friends. Augustus Carrow, as she recalled from the invitation.
"Yes, Father," Viviane responded with the sincerest smile she could muster before they arrived at the center of the ballroom to greet their host. The next day, she was greeted by a woman in her bedroom, lecturing her that she should learn how to wake up early, prepare her breakfast and arrive well-groomed.
Every morning for the past month, she learned the right manners. How to correctly stand straight and walk graciously, greet correctly, sit correctly, talk and respond correctly, eat, chew, drink, smile correctly, and act like a proper well-bred pureblood daughter.
"A true Hawthorne must know about potions. It is in our blood to be great and excellent potions masters." Daniel tells her as the mahogany brown doors open before them, revealing a potions room.
The room is adorned with an eclectic mix of shelves, each meticulously organized and overflowing with a myriad of glass bottles and vials. These vessels house an assortment of colorful liquids, ranging from vibrant emeralds and azure blues to fiery reds and golden hues. Each vial is meticulously labeled with intricate calligraphy, detailing the properties and effects of the potions contained within.
The room's walls are adorned with ancient tapestries and mystical sigils depicting alchemical processes and mythical creatures. Intricate diagrams and formulae, meticulously drawn in faded ink, provide glimpses into the complex art and science that underpins the creation of potions.
"Yes, Father." Viviane looks around the room, impressed and curious. An expansive apothecary cabinet with numerous drawers is in one corner of the room. Each drawer is carefully labeled and contains an array of rare ingredients, from powdered moonstone and unicorn tears to the delicate petals of the night-blooming Nightshade flower. The cabinet's aged, polished wood emanates a faint, earthy aroma.
Daniel took it upon himself to teach her daughter how to brew a potion. Of course, he taught her the introductions of alchemy and the types of potions such as Healing, Antidotes, Poisons, Mood-Impacting Potions, Psychological Potions, Physical Potions, and External Potions. The basic description, aspects, and elements of every ingredient used in every potion, and of course, the necessary tools to be used.
Her Father taught her some tricks, do's and don'ts, when brewing potions, and even told her not to follow the instructions of the handbooks because they tend to be misled. So Viviane took it upon herself to write all the right ingredients, the correct instructions, and the special equipment in her journal.
And that journal is her most prized possession. It has all the tricks and secrets of how to be an excellent alchemist.
At the young age of six, she brewed her potions, from Healing to External potions, and she brewed the most complex potion perfectly. Her Father said she'll brew the potion again when she reaches her 6th year in Hogwarts. She was so advanced in Potions that she learned all the lessons from 1st to 7th year.
She brewed The Draught of Living Death at the age of seven.
Of course, she's exceptionally natural at brewing potions.
She's a Hawthorne. It's in their blood, after all. What is not there to expect?
After excelling at potions, her Father decided to give Viviane a head start with her future subjects at Hogwarts. He hired a private tutor when she was six years old, and now she's ten years old. But she can already cast spells meant for 4th years at Hogwarts.
And now Viviane Blair Hawthorne is ready and prepared when she finally receives her Hogwarts letter on her 11th birthday.
Because Merlin forbid that his only heir is a failure. He refuses to let the Daily Prophet put shame into the Hawthorne name—Daniel swore that he'll close that bloody wizarding newspaper station.
Daniel Charles Hawthorne will never have the male heir that he desperately wanted. So he vowed that his only child was beyond perfection and expectation that would soon make him proud enough to be considered his heir.
A Hawthorne knows nothing of failure.
Only perfection.
Author's Note:
— Viviane, being gifted burn-out kid—slay gurly. Also, hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm almost finished with Act One! <3