What's in a pen name?

Christian Drage-Dolohov

Gringotts worker | Freelance writer
Messages
110
OOC First Name
Amanda
Blood Status
Pure Blood
Relationship Status
Married
Wand
12.5" Cedar with Core of Thestral Hair
Age
June 4, 2021 (34)
Christian hunched over his typewriter, staring at a blank page. He needed something very simple: a name. An alias, a nom de plume, a pseudonym. The book he planned to write and hopefully publish had the potential to offend sensibilities and stir up a community the Wizarding World didn’t want to own. He had a rough outline in the works, stashed and sealed under a floorboard that only he or Teuila could open. Christian trusted his wife to Pluto and back.

He sipped at his water and typed: Lambert, Cornelius, Martin, Franz-

Christian pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. He needed something catchy that couldn’t be traced back to himself, his wife, or daughters. One, because they didn’t need death threats. Two, because he didn’t want his maternal side of the family to reconnect with him or associate him with the content. Three, because his paternal grandfather- who he was none too close with- would bristle and bring down hell on him.

Funnily enough, Christian had the working title already sorted out. Pureblood Supremacy: A Fool’s Purpose in the Twenty-First Century. While the Death Eaters were long done for, he knew these toxic ideas were alive and well across the globe. One just had to look at the Prejudice offshoot of the Scitorari, or misguided individuals like his mother, his grandfather, and likely his long-lost brother and sister.

Christian knew his legal name would give him credibility. One way or another, he needed to share his perspective on this societal ill. That said, protecting his family and home was most important. Someday, when they were grown, he would tell his daughters Tilly and Sefina, both about his book and the darker side of their heritage. He would thoroughly explain why they had nothing to do with his mother’s family- as of yet, they didn’t even know the name Dolohov. But his father didn’t get a free pass, either; as much as Christian loved him, he would share Tristan’s sins if the man didn’t do it himself.

Christian rested his chin on his hand and sighed. He needed to figure out this name dilemma so he could pitch the idea to a publisher.
 
Tristan reclined in the armchair, drifting off to sleep. He had overextended his stay in Samoa by several weeks now. The wizard wasn’t in any hurry to get back to North America, either. It was a mix of the lovely weather, his grief, and tension with his wife, Julie. Their interactions had been suboptimal since Estrella’s death.

Christian was very blunt with him- told him he needed to return and support Julie, who was hurting with the loss as much as he was. Luckily for him, Teuila had intervened and told him to take as long as he needed. So here he was, feeling guiltier by the day, but dreading the thought of going home.

A shout and the patter of footsteps jolted him out of his nap. He opened an eye and groaned. Sefina was banging on the door of her father’s study, hollering. Doing exactly what she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

Tristan rose slowly from the chair, feeling the weight of his massive body as he did so. He approached the five-year-old and hushed her. “Shhh, Sefina. Remember, you’re not supposed to bother your Dad while he’s working.”

Sefina held up an envelope triumphantly, undeterred. “Tilly sent me a letter! Like she promised. Dad needs to help me read it.”

Where Tilly was easygoing and relaxed, Sefina was imperious and determined. They both took after Teuila, but Tristan could see another in Sefina. In some ways, she resembled Thorine, albeit with jet-black hair, brown eyes, and much more melanin. Not that he would share this with Christian. He was very sensitive about his heritage and Tristan knew this would greatly unsettle him.
 
Christian started with the sudden banging on the door, his heart racing. While he loved his youngest daughter dearly, she was a terror. Both Christian and Teuila agreed that having his father around to distract Sefina was a blessing in disguise. She was acting up even more since Tilly had left for school. Christian did wish his father would sort his life out, but he couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to write once the elder Drage finally decided to leave.

Waving his wand at the typewriter, Christian swept the page blank. He rose from his desk and opened the door, beaming.

“What’s this I hear? A letter from Tilly?” He reached down and picked up Sefina, cradling her in his arms. She squealed in delight. “Let’s read it, then,” Christian said, carrying Sefina and setting her on top of the desk. She was growing taller and lankier by the day, and soon would be too big for things like this, Christian thought with a twinge of sadness.
 
Tristan leaned in the doorway and listened as Christian read the letter out loud to his daughter. He was ready to run interference and lead Sefina away so Christian could get back to whatever he was writing.

Dear Sefina,

I hope you, Mum, and Dad are well. I miss you all.

The Sorting Hat placed me in Hufflepuff House. I’m pretty sure it made the right choice.

I’ve made a few friends so far and I explore the grounds whenever I can. We got slimed by a poltergeist at the Welcome Feast- it was wild. And disgusting. My favorite classes are Transfiguration and Flying. Did you know wizards can turn into dogs?

Write me back soon. Hugs to everyone.

Love,

Tilly

Sefina looked up to Christian with wide eyes and an open mouth. “You and Granddad can turn into dogs?” She twisted her face in frustration. “Show me! Now! Please?”

Tristan covered his mouth, holding in his amusement. Much like the grandmother she’d never met, Sefina did not take well to being laughed at.
 
Christian hugged his daughter tightly and held the open letter. “Sorry, Sefina,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “your Granddad and I can’t turn into dogs. We’re not Animagi.”

“What’s an Animagi?”
Sefina asked, scrunching up her forehead in disappointment.

“Very special wizards and witches who can change themselves into animals, not just dogs. Tilly must have met one such person at school. They are rare.” Christian smiled at Sefina.

“Well, I want to be one,” Sefina said decidedly.

Christian lifted her off the desk and set her to stand on the floor. “You have a long time to sort that out,” he said, turning back to his typewriter. “Are you going to write a letter back to your sister? I bet Granddad would be more than happy to help you.”

Sefina nodded, biting her lip. She ran back to Tristan and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Pick me up.”
 
Teuila entered the house with paper bags weighing down her arms. Normally, she would have no qualms about using magic, but she was very cautious while outside given their Muggle neighbors. Christian insisted that the Disillusionment Charms were more than enough, but she still felt uneasy. He didn’t understand, not fully, being born into the magical world. Even if his stepmother wasn’t a witch.

She set her bags down on the counter and sighed, enjoying the light breeze through the kitchen window. These days she found herself more and more tired. It was luxurious just to have a moment’s rest.

Teuila could hear her family down the hall. When she was ready, she approached them. “You know, Sefina, if your Granddad keeps spoiling you so much, you are going to turn into a very rotten little girl,” she said, smiling.
 
Tristan had lifted Sefina into his arms without question. She may not be able to boss her parents around, but he would do her bidding. The little girl fixed an angry look at her mother. “Am not.”

“We won’t let that happen, will we, Sefina? Now let’s go start that letter,”
Tristan said, grinning. “Hi, Teuila.” He carried the girl into her room and watched her tear open a box with pencils and parchment and dump its contents onto the floor. She would insist he clean it up with magic later.
 
With his daughter’s interruption and now Teuila’s arrival, Christian decided he was done trying to invent names for the day. He abandoned his typewriter and embraced his wife. She was wearing an orange, yellow, and pink sundress. It reminded him of a sunset. “You look lovely, Teuila,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss.

Christian and Teuila had been married for twelve years, but they could have been mistaken for newlyweds. Not a longstanding couple with two daughters, one already in school. Christian held her close for a moment and then reached for the opened letter on the desk. “Tilly wrote us- Sefina’s over the moon about it.”
 
Teuila beamed and kissed Christian back enthusiastically. “Why, thank you! Can’t say I was trying too hard today.” She leaned back and reached for the piece of parchment. Reading it over, she asked, “What’s a Hufflepuff, exactly? I know it’s a house…” Teuila had exclusively attended Ilvermorny. There, the houses were named after magical creatures.
 
Christian scratched the back of his neck. “It’s the house I was sorted into, not that I was there for long.” Christian had attended Hogwarts New Zealand for all of half a year before leaving the country entirely. “If I remember correctly, it’s in honor of a witch with the name Hufflepuff. Don’t quote me on that.” He smiled. “What I know for sure is that they value hard work and fairness.”

Christian thought this suited Tilly quite well. Despite her assurances in the letter, he hoped she was doing all right. Attending school had been a terrible adjustment for Christian in the beginning.

Christian sniffed at the air. “Is that coconut fish I smell?” His mouth watered and his stomach twisted with hunger. He’d skipped lunch entirely today, shutting himself up in his office.
 
Teuila nodded. Hufflepuff sounded decent enough. She was relieved that her daughter had knowledge of the magical world before attending school. As a muggleborn, adjusting to the practices of witches and wizards had been overwhelming, not to mention starting from scratch on every subject. Teuila had done well enough for herself and was happy with how life had turned out. That said, a leg up didn't hurt.

She pecked Christian on the cheek. “You bet it is. And that’s not all- I ordered takeaway,” Teuila said, then with an evil grin. “Just for us.” She jabbed her finger over her shoulder towards Sefina’s room, and added quietly, “I found a way to kick those two out for tonight.”
 
Christian raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I must be dreaming.” He pulled Teuila in tighter, “I say, you are quite the genius.” He loved his family fiercely, but with a demanding five-year-old and a brooding father, he was looking forward to a few hours of peace. And a date night with the light of his life.
 
Teuila brushed a hand down Christian’s back. “We also need to chat about something- in private.” She grinned mischievously at the puzzled look on her husband’s face. Not giving him a chance to respond, she pulled away. She approached Sefina’s room and stood in the doorway. Sefina was on the floor, laying on her belly, and attacking a piece of parchment with at least a dozen different colors. Teuila’s father-in-law was sitting on the bed, providing gentle encouragement.

“Tristan, Mum and Dad invited you and Sefina over for dinner,” Teuila said, “you should pack bags just in case. They insist you stay the night. Dad promised cocktails.” Teuila smiled, but her expression was determined. It was more of a statement than a request.
 
Tristan did not miss his daughter-in-law’s pointed look. There was no way he was going to stick around. He smiled amiably. “I can’t argue with Peter’s food and cocktails,” he replied, smiling, “we’ll be off in ten.” Peter and Frankie Faumuina were Muggles, but Tristan enjoyed their company, and they his. Once Peter found out Tristan was a Healer, he asked for a “little touch-up” of his ailing back every time they met. Institutions of the Wizarding World frowned upon using magical means to fix Muggle problems, but Tristan had no problem frowning back. Rules had always been suggestions in his playbook.

He grabbed Sefina under her arms and lifted her off the floor. She kicked and protested, “I’m not done, Granddad!”

“We’re going to Peter and Frankie’s house,” he said cheerily, “you can bring your letter along and finish it there. I bet they would love to add a note for Tilly.”

Miraculously, Sefina complied without another peep. Tristan and Sefina had whipped together their overnight bags and were off in under the promised ten minutes. He lifted Sefina onto his shoulders and carried her the three blocks to her Muggle grandparents’ house, the little witch bossing the gigantic wizard the entire way.
 
Christian was intrigued- and slightly nervous- to know what Teuila wanted to discuss. While she rounded up his father and daughter, Christian made for the kitchen. Using his wand, he opened the takeaway bags and transferred the hot and steaming food into ceramic serving bowls. He set the dinner table, lit a candle, and poured them both generous glasses of white wine. “Bye! Have a good time!” Christian said with enthusiasm, waving Tristan and Sefina out the door and secretly wishing they could move even faster.

When he watched them move around the corner and out of sight, Christian pulled out Teuila’s chair with a flourish and gestured for her to sit.
 
“How romantic of you, Christian Drage!” Teuila exclaimed. She took the seat graciously and leaned over the table, evaluating her options. There was fish baked in a coconut shell with cream sauce- Christian’s favorite- white rice, chicken curry, grilled vegetables, fruit, and sweet rolls for dessert. Teuila served herself a heaping serving of each and hovered over her plate eagerly. She ignored the glass of wine he had set in front of her. The candle was a nice touch. It was pleasant to just be together, alone at home.
 
Christian descended upon his meal. He was burning to know what his wife wanted to discuss, but his hunger burned him more. After taking a few bites of his fish with rice, he raised the wine glass to Teuila and beamed. “To us!” he said, reaching across the table with his free hand to hold hers. “And to nights alone,” he added.
 
Teuila squeezed Christian’s hand and held out her wine glass. She clinked hers against his, but set it back down instead of taking a sip. Teuila pushed the glass across the table towards her husband. She loved a nice glass of wine. However, Christian would need to finish this one. Teuila said nothing, gripping his fingers again and the corners of her lips turning upwards.
 
Christian tipped back his glass of wine before realizing Teuila had not joined him. He knew this was one of her favorite wines, so he caught on quickly. She wouldn’t give her share away without a reason. His jaw dropped just a little before morphing into a broad smile. “Really?” he said, his voice tinged with excitement. It seemed like there wasn’t a need for a lengthy conversation after all.
 
Teuila nodded, giving Christian’s hand another tight squeeze before settling both in her lap. “Confirmed it this morning.” She grinned and blushed. This would be the third time around. However, she couldn’t help the flutter of nerves. Teuila had suspected something was up for a week now. She had kept it secret in case it was a fluke. “I think we need to hire on your Dad full-time,” she joked.
 
Christian laughed. “Don’t give him another excuse to stay longer.” His father needed to go back to Canada- soon- and sort his life out (again.) He was welcome here, but Christian strongly felt it was making things worse.

Encouraged by the news, Christian returned to his dinner with even more gusto. He took a generous gulp of his wine and then made for his plate again. He wondered how he was ever going to finish his book with this new development, but it could wait, he reasoned.

Christian wished suddenly that his mother could see him now. How happy he was, with this family he loved so dearly. She might have called them dirty, corrupted, a disgrace. But had she known love, warmth, and belonging like this? Christian didn’t think so. With Teuila, he openly celebrated this beginning and said good riddance to the past. For now.
 

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