𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜 ━━ 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗗𝗟𝗘
066. house of gaunt & cordelia malfoy
𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗨𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣. It did not resemble the close alliance and friendship between the Blacks and Bridgets over the last century which was created due to their wealth and power. Nobody wants the House of Black as an enemy, and nobody wants the Bridget family as an enemy either. Their union proved them to be beyond indestructible to the other Sacred 28 families.
The Blacks had always been wealthier—although the Bridgets' sheer elegance overpowered them in some ways. Whilst the Blacks created fear with their status and last name, Bridgets drilled such an immense amount of respect for their name onto everyone's skulls, the population of the Wizarding World was afraid of uttering any discourteous comment about them, considering it sinful.
Sirius Black was well aware of the pure happiness Walburga and Orion Black would find in their hearts if his relationship with Bridget escalated. Hell, his mother's eyes twinkled every time Scarlet's name would be mentioned, context overruled.
His rebellious tactics meant a lot to him, he found that to be his greatest quality.
Despite being in his three best friends' company during breakfast in the Great Hall, his mind was opened to a plethora of intrusive thoughts, most of which consisted of the newfound electricity burrowing deep into his core.
That electricity surpassed the idea of mere attraction (everybody was attracted to her without a doubt) and turned into something more.
Not only that, but his gaze was seemingly in a world of its own — eyes constantly and involuntarily gravitating toward the blonde girl at the opposing end of the Hall. He forced himself to look away. But only a moment or two later, Sirius would find himself drawn to looking upon the sophisticated soul once again until her appearance was indefinitely scorched to his memory. Silky hair is thrown up in a tight ponytail, the silver on her tie glittering, and the pitch-black of her robes creating a damning contrast to her skin, determination glinting in her cobalt eyes.
Her laugh was graceful—but never as loud as it should be, and her smile was never larger than intended. Her smile is at its fullest around me, he dwelled on the thought.
At times, he wondered if his adoration for Scarlet would overpower his pompous goals to dismantle and rise above his family's prejudiced beliefs.
"Pads, are you listening?" Remus created a snap of his fingers in Sirius' face, and he blinked his thoughts away. "What are you doing?"
"Huh," He let out, eyes travelling to a curious James with squinting eyes sitting beside him. "What, I'm listening."
"What did I just say?"
"You want to prank Professor Krane?" Sirius guessed, and it was the best guess for the time being.
"No," Peter sighed defeatedly. "Prongs apologised for being so bitter yesterday."
"Really?" That surprised Sirius. Potter would dig his own grave rather than ever apologise. He wondered what brought such an immense change.
"Of course," replied James. "I like Bridget, sort of. I did not mean to overreact."
However, his words fell upon deaf ears. Sirius' gaze strapped back onto Scarlet sitting by the Slytherin table.
"What an idiot," Remus muttered under her breath, shaking his head at his lovesick friend.
As their feast ended, Sirius slithered through the large crowd in an attempt to reach Scarlet and have a conversation with her. However, his efforts remained futile when he saw Professor McGonagall making the blonde step aside as the woman whispered something in her ear, and their attention diverted to the front of the hall where Albus Dumbledore sat.
KNOWING THE REASON MCGONAGALL PULLED HER ASIDE, she stepped into Dumebledore's office who shot her a small, welcoming smile.
"Good morning, sir."
"Good morning, take a seat," Dumbledore pointed at the seat before him and waited patiently as she sat down. "I think you're aware of the matter I've called you down here to discuss." His head tilted slightly.
Scarlet nodded a little, "I'm aware, yes."
"I remembered you asking my assistance in figuring out the reasons behind the night terrors you have had since you were a child." Dumbledore continued after a momentous pause. "After quite a bit of research—tracking down many family linkages, I'm afraid I found something intriguing—something you may dislike, but I'd have to ask you a few questions about it."
"Of course, sir, go ahead."
"Have you had this sort of nightmare before the incident last year, the one regarding the potions?"
"Everybody has nightmares." The girl shrugged, sitting opposite him. The man hummed under his breath, nodding.
"I am hoping you would not take offense as I say this," he started slowly and thoughtfully, "You're a threat, Miss Bridget. A cunning, ambitious, power-driven threat." He watched as her eyes widened in astonishment although she tried hiding her feelings quite well. "From what I have seen, it is for a good reason that you fight so violently. I have heard so much about what you did for Miss Mary Macdonald."
A lot of the time, Scarlet realised, as Dumbledore talks, he says a lot of words but in the end, he doesn't say much. As in... there is not much Scarlet can take from it except wicked hints that make her brain a little fuzzy.
"You share so many similarities with a student I once had great hope for," he shared and paused for intensity, "Consisting of dark and twisted thoughts, recurring nightmares... I better save the details for another time."
"Uh-huh," Scarlet hummed, curious eyes squinting in the headmaster's direction.
"Now, Miss Bridget, I must tell you," Dumbledore spoke with suspense. "I believe the reason you are having these visions, especially related to the Dark Lord, is because... you have a connection with him."
Scarlet squinted her eyes. "Sure." She sarcastically spoke.
The professor raised a brow.
The girl chuckled nervously. "I'm not related to the Dark Lord if that's what you're insinuating," she spoke confidently. "I know my bloodline very well. My father was a Bridget, my mother's a Malfoy... and... Tom Riddle was a half-blood,"
"You know Tom Riddle?" the elderly man raised a curious brow.
Scarlet's breath hitched. "I encountered him once, in my mind and he introduced himself."
"You did not share the matter with me, Miss Bridget."
"I didn't find it necessary to do so," she shrugged coldly. "Nothing happened."
"You did not find it suspicious that he tracked you down in your mind without ever encountering you physically?" He questioned, and Scarlet ignored his inquiries to continue with her hypothesis. "You realise there is a reason he wants you on his side?"
"Well, what's done is done," she shrugged, "look, I'm not bragging or anything but both sides of my family are a long line of only purebloods. It is unlikely I'm related to him."
Dumbledore looked at her. "The important matter isn't whether you're blood-related to Tom Riddle or not, Miss Bridget, that is not what I'm getting at," he paused a little, brows furrowing. "I think..."
"I think you're a descendant of Salazar Slytherin."
Scarlet squinted her eyes again, almost feeling like laughing. "And you're Queen Elizabeth."
Dumbledore didn't seem to lose his patience, he remained relaxed despite the momentum of the situation. "You have inherited quite the skills from him—one of the most powerful wizards of all time..."
"You mean casting powerful spells since a young age?" She whispered, having an idea of where this was going. She masked the overwhelming feeling with a cold expression. "I'm a Bridget, sir,
"The non-verbal spells you cast. Whilst others need years to master certain forms of magic, you've done it as a child. It has been centuries since a child as young as eleven received their apparition license. It is not legal, per se, your mother brings quite an argumentative proposal when it comes to your power and abilities."
Scarlet's mind roamed around different pieces of information. She did not assume that her ability to master spells such as learning to Apparate at the age of eleven and transforming into Animagus form with ease had anything to do with blood linkage—but merely due to her hard work and practice. Celeste was also particularly secretive and often performed illegal tasks knowing she could get away with them. It was not something she took pride in, she did not even know that her daughter had knowledge about her actions.
Dumbledore continued. "Will you do me a favour and pass me your wand, Miss Bridget?"
Scarlet was wary about obeying, but she took her wand out of her robes and passed it to him after a small pause. He studied it, running a finger over the material.
"Do you know your wand's core?"
"I got my wand in France, I wasn't fluent back then," she shrugged, hating the unpredictability, "so French sounded like gibberish."
"It's from a Basilisk's horn." He confirmed sharply. "European Yew woods..." he took a stretched-out pause as he said the word 'yew' in a curious tone, as though some hideous realisation occurred to him. "It is Yew that is notorious for its fearsome reputation within wizards, with its great affinity for the Dark Arts. It is not to say I believe you are attracted to the dark side... merely adds to my suspicion that you may have Slytherin's blood in your veins."
Scarlet suspiciously narrowed her eyes and focused on the Basilisk's mention. "My wand comes from a great, dangerous creature that is known to bring destruction," she stated, matter-of-factly and then mumbled under her breath, "sounds about right."
Dumbledore ignored her mocking tone. "You have visions that directly relate to the Dark Lord's work, some of them real, some of them not... and I believe if you focus, you can be quite advantageous with your abilities."
"How is that possible?" She scoffed. "Why isn't the rest of my family related to him? Why don't my parents have those abilities? I would argue this is mere speculation."
Professor Dumbledore stared right ahead. "Tom Riddle's mother was from the Gaunt family—and a few decades ago, a Malfoy married into the House of Gaunt... I'm referring to Cordelia Malfoy."
"My grandmother," Scarlet never had a chance to meet her grandmother from her mother's side, it was no surprise she knew little of her. "I never actually met her."
"She passed away at quite a young age, did she not? Do not get me wrong, Scarlet, Cordelia was a vile woman. Cruel and objectifying."
"I am sorry to say, sir, I believe you're mistaken," Scarlet cut in, and kept her tone steady to make sure Dumbledore does not find her too arrogant. "The Malfoys, as you very well know, carry too much pride to ever marry a Gaunt. They were not quite respected and... I do not believe a woman like Cordelia Malfoy would ever associate herself with them."
"Your concerns and inquiries are reasonable," Dumbledore assured. "The Gaunt siblings were very tempted when it came to using potions, as neighbours claim. One of the officials from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bob Ogden, shared that various love potions were being brewed in their house. I can only imagine Morfin Gaunt would not hesitate using such a potion if it meant he could marry someone like Cordelia Malfoy."
Scarlet was unsure whether this was gossip. She took a small notebook out and started to jolt down pieces and bits of information in invisible ink to which the headmaster quirked a brow.
"What is that, what are you doing?"
"Do not get me wrong, sir, I do need to confirm these facts. I have a lot of knowledge about my lineage history and yet this did not come across. I would like to inquire further about it in family books."
Dumbledore did not take offense to her mistrust. "That is all right, Scarlet. I agree this is shocking information; I myself could not believe it until I studied the matter more closely. It is odd, for a Malfoy to ever marry a Gaunt. Direct descendent of Slytherin or not."
"So what happened next? What happened to Morfin, how come my mother and Uncle Abraxas are Malfoys and not Gaunts?"
"One question at a time," he let out a breathy chuckle. "After Morfin Gaunt was exiled, Cordelia snatched back her reputation, status, and title and continued the Malfoy name by giving her children her own name. The obscure story did not taint the Malfoys aristocracy one bit, and instead, they continue to hold unapproachable, untouched influence on this country."
Scarlet did not doubt that, her mother always mentioned brave, utterly brave Cordelia Malfoy but she must have failed to mention how Cordelia managed to overthrow Morfin's ugly tricks and climb back to the top of nobility. Snatch her name back and erase every bit of that hideous story from existence. Or perhaps, Abraxas and Celeste had no idea what their mother did.
One thing is for sure, Scarlet was not going to learn about her family history from Albus Dumbledore. She made a mental note to go rogue and investigate the timid, secretive history of Cordelia Malfoy as soon as she left Hogwarts.
Dumbledore slowly started to talk again. "I suppose, you just happened to be the lucky one to be—not an heir—simply a descendent who inherited so many luxurious skills, unlike all the others in your family."
"Lucky one," Scarlet scoffed irritably.
"Now, Miss Bridget, I do not interfere with the sorting of Houses, I simply do not have such power... but I truly believe you belong in Gryffindor."
Scarlet listened quietly, not daring to speak. She had nothing to say. Gryffindor? This conversation alone seemed like a bloody nightmare.
"And I am aware this is not how it works but you simply have too much connection to Slytherin for you to be placed anywhere else... in fact, the sorting hat was meant to place you in Gryffindor until..."
"Until I yelled at it." She softly nodded, understanding. It was all coming to piece together and she could no longer hold denial and accusations.
"Yes, you would have done exceptionally in Gryffindor," the professor confirmed. "The sorting hat shall not put you in a house if you know in your heart, you do not want to be in. Never mind you share a blood connection with Slytherin House's founder himself."
She stayed silent, her chest rising in a growing panic. Her breathing quickened.
A descendent of Salazar Slytherin.
Scarlet thought she was paralysed in a nightmare again. That meant... there was no escape. She was trapped, and these gruesome details ran in her veins. It's all over, a phrase she repeated to herself over and over again like a ritual, it will go away soon. But no—her tragedy was already destined like a stamp on her head. It wasn't over and it will never be over. She felt sick, all of a sudden, at the thought of it.
"Miss Bridget, given your blood lineages and the exceptional abilities you possess — and much more but there is no time to explain at the moment," Dumbledore took a long pause, and she knew his next words would change everything. And then, like a punch to the throat, he said them and shattered all of her mental health improvements in the blink of an eye. "I think I might require your help."
"Absolutely not." She spoke out immediately, her voice hard and rough but cracking right in the middle.
Despite the immediate reaction to those horrible, terrible words—I might need your help—Scarlet Bridget was negatively floored. She felt her chest sink instantaneously, and her heart jumped right into a marathon of beats too fast for her own good. In the blink of an eye. There was this chill, this cold, terrible shiver that slithered down her spine in the shape of those words—those words that changed absolutely everything. They rang in her ears. For a moment, it felt like time paused and she was left to linger in them for a moment. To really let that sentence sink in, and seep into the cacophony inside her head. To let it swim around in the valley of her racing thoughts until it stopped and resided at the forefront of her mind.
"I need you to listen to me carefully," his voice stayed calm. He knew this was hard on her, and she could hear it in his voice. "Just, please—listen to me."
"Please," Scarlet finally said, wincing as she dug her palm into one of her rings that rested on her other hand. "Please. Just stop. Give me... give me a second." Her voice came out weak and breathless.
Albus Dumbledore was one of the very few individuals with the maximum details of her trauma and what the war endeavors had put her through. In fact, he knew better than she did about all the nightmares plaguing her mind and the absolute shit-show she was put through.
Help to do what? Despite the sudden revelations about her power and blood links, she did not possess anything extraordinary—at least, not mentally due to the trauma racking her brain. She was wounded. And there were many, many soldiers participating in this war who did not face the aftermath of an attack, the ones who could handle it.
"You can use your connection and abilities against him—save lives. You have an obstacle-free path into You-Know-Who's core—not only his inner circle but also his mind, you can get in easily and manage to get your hand on useful information."
Dumbledore did not need help to win this war. Useful questions arose, and it sizzled in the pit of her stomach. She narrowly escaped last time. And what if she does not make it out this time? That sent her into a wave of thoughts she didn't want to nurse, that frankly, she wanted to be part of.
There is only so much torture one can endure. And Scarlet believed she had reached that capacity.
"I apologise," he inhaled greatly. "That was a little forward," he let out a small sigh. "But that fact of the matter still remains. And I'm sorry I have to ask like this, I really am, Scarlet, you know I am, but there's no one like you. I'm telling you the truth."
"Will you excuse me, professor?" Scarlet suddenly interrupted, not rudely. "I—I just need a moment, just to think about it."
Dumbledore nodded, understanding her overwhelming feelings at the moment. When the girl got up from her seat and turned away from his desk, the man called upon her once again.
"Miss Bridget?" He asked, causing the girl to turn back around over her shoulder. "I'm proud of how far you've come despite circumstances. I hope you come to think about it."
Scarlet gave him a sharp, appreciative nod before exiting his office. She could only wonder how Dumbledore managed to track down her family history so fiercely. She could only wonder what this revelation would lead to in her future.
𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺
muahahaa I'm gonna make
her suffer sm. this is gonna
be fun.