"Wait wait wait. Grindelwald as in Voldemort beta version? As in all Muggles should die?" I could feel my face decomposing when both Draco and Harry nodded slowly. "Jesus fucking Christ, so my grandmother was a nazi too? Great, that's just great."

I started pacing around the room, anxiously playing with the ring on my left pointer finger, ornated with a blue gem surrounded by moon crescents. So this is why I had to be hidden. There was no other way. Up until now, I couldn't comprehend why my mother would need to hide me so bad. This had to be the reason.

"So who's my grandfather? I suppose he wasn't a muggle, knowing Vinda's beliefs." Harry bit his lip, thinking for a second before replying. "That's the thing, we don't know. We lost track of Vinda after Grindelwald was arrested, but the magic birth tracker showed she had a son around the same time. We also know that your father attended BeauxBatons, before suddenly dropping out in his last year."

I cocked an eyebrow in response. So it seemed that I didn't inherit my liking to higher education from my father. Interesting, I thought, as Harry continued. "From what we have gathered, your father joined the ranks of the Death Eaters during the First Wizarding War, although it is unclear if he did so willingly."

I froze once again at his words. It seemed like my whole lineage was prejudiced. But it didn't make any sense. Why would my father marry a muggle, father a half-blood and join those who wanted his family dead? "He was interned at St Mungo's -the wizarding hospital- near the end of the war. For reason of insanity."

So, there it was. I had always felt different. Not in the sense of, I am built different. No. In the sense where I had always felt like I was on the verge on turning insane. Like my brain was constantly playing with fire, lighting matches here and there. The constant numbness masking the hysteria. My mother had her issues, sure. But they were benign. So my father was the reason.

"Your father is still alive, Chloé." My eyes shot up to Harry in a second. "You're joking. There is no way. Absolutely no way." Harry gave me a sad look before rolling up my family tree and tying a ribbon around it. "He is still there, and will most likely remain locked up until he passes, for his allegiance to Voldemort. He was not sent to Azkaban because he was too unstable. So he remains at St Mungo's, closely monitored by detached Azkaban guards."

I clenched my jaw before exhaling sharply. My father was a criminal. A madman. A blood supremacist. He was the definition of evil. And even though Draco had proven me that we could escape the paths laid out for us by our families, I couldn't help but wonder if I had some part of evil in me. "Is there any way I can see him? I want to know where he took me, before my mum fled." Harry hesitated for a second. "I mean, you could... But I don't think it would be very pleasant. The man is completely out of it." I nodded thoughtfully before replying. "That's okay. I can deal with crazy."

_ _ _

After Harry and I had agreed upon visiting St Mungo's the following week, he had invited us over for dinner with former members of the Order. I could feel how uncomfortable Draco was with the idea, but he still kept quiet. I'm pretty sure I'd felt him checking my brain, only to find out I was craving more wizard interaction than his.

It was now 6pm and I was getting dressed a bit more formerly for the evening to come. I was still wearing black -something I had come to think might have been an hereditary choice- but instead of the simple jacket and trousers I was rocking earlier, I was now putting on a long and flowy lace dress and platform boots.

As soon as I met Draco in the living room, he looked me up and down, a hungry smirk plastered on his face. "Well, you look hot." I returned his smirk, giving him a spin and raised an eyebrow at him, taking in his outfit. A formal, all black suit. I had always loved the sight of men in formal outfits. But Draco? That was something else. "I must admit wizard Draco makes me want to skip dinner altogether." He chuckled at my reply, leaning off the wall and getting close to me, grabbing me by the waist and whispering in my ear. "Don't tempt me, Rosier, I might just take you up on the offer." Before I could add anything else, he apparated us to Grimmauld Place.