Hand in hand, Aine and Aion apparated together back to their home. With a gust of wind and a split crackle, Aine and her brother landed softly on the lush velvety ground, the sight of their destroyed home welcoming them. Though it has only been a week since they had come home, the once perfectly maintained garden had gone dull and lifeless, and the crops that their family had planted had all wilted. Once beautiful and vibrant flowers were all withered, drooping sadly and damaged by the invasion.
Aion nudged his sister who could only stare blankly at her broken home, everything had changed when they were not around, it was like all life had seeped away like the unfateful day their father was murdered. Aine followed her brother, walking through the front entrance where splinters of wood poked in all directions. The door creaked open and they entered their wrecked house.
Aine had let go of Aion's hand, aimlessly walking around her living room. Windows were smashed into shards littered across the floor, and the pieces of furniture were destroyed, parts of it sprawled here and there. Frames were hanging on for dear life at a tilted angle almost as if a gentle breeze could cause them to fall. Everything was just in tatters, making the whole place soulless and grim. It didn't even feel like their home anymore, it was light a typhoon had come and annihilated the place.
It didn't feel right anymore.
She glanced to the kitchen where Aion had headed first to repair the damage. Her gaze fell on the spot where her father lay in pieces. There was an empty space where they once were, debris surrounding the hollow spot. Her father was nowhere to be seen. Figured... she thought to herself. Her father couldn't possibly be still in pieces scattered on the floor. However, where exactly he was, was something both the Estoileons did not know. There was no doubt that someone had taken care of the remains of their father while they were in the Malfoy Manor, Whether he had been taken away, buried or even further reduced was a mystery that neither of them had answers to. It was something they'll find out soon enough.
Aine strode towards the fireplace and stopped at the armchair her father usually sat watching the flames with her. She felt a prickling sensation in her eyes and fought back her tears. She pushed the knocked-over chair upright, fixing it to the spot it had always been before restoring the rest of their fallen furniture and decorations, in hopes that putting everything back to where it was could ease her heart a little.
Then she halted and picked up a broken picture frame, brushing the glass shards away. She manages to smile a little at the moving picture of the three of them that they had taken over the holidays. Elliot was hugging his children from behind, laughing brightly while Aion winks to the camera, ruffling his younger sister's hair as she gasped, in disbelief that he ruined her hair. Even so, they all wore happy smiles when the picture was taken.
A sharp exhale left Aine, looking away to distract herself from the sadness that continues to drown the girl. She clutched the picture in her hand tightly and proceeded upstairs. Though their rooms were all pretty much intact, it was still in a mess except it wasn't as horrible as downstairs. Her eyes gazed around the open doors, every room was thoroughly searched with many items knocked over to the ground and spoiled. She spotted her father's room and gulped, hesitantly pushing open the already ajar door.
Despite not being around for some time, the nostalgia crept onto Aine as she went into Elliot's room. There was still a faint scent of her father lingering in the air and the girl closes her eyes, finding the tiniest bit of comfort in it. Whilst many of his books were left thrown across the wooden floors with papers decorating them, Elliot's bed was untouched. And so was the neatly folded jacket he often wears.
Aine reaches for it and buried herself in the piece of clothing, taking a moment to recollect herself. She sat on the edge of his bed, staring dolefully around as the wind whispered by, sending the papers all over the ground to dance. She noticed Elliot's potion journal next to his bed, sitting on the nightstand and she picks it up. Her eyes welled up when she flipped through the pages that were filled with meticulous notes that he had taken over the course of years, scribbled in ink that flowed through the pages. She skimmed through the thick journal, there were still a few more many more pages that needed to be filled out until the entire book was full and some with tabs on them still had little to no information written out.
What caught Aine's attention was that n the last page, was a small note that wrote:
'I pray that one day, this book will be passed down to Aine, my precious daughter, my only successor. In hopes that it will serve her usefulness so that it could be passed onto the future generation of gifted Potioneers to help those in need...'
This was the legacy of her father, the thing he dedicated himself to throughout his life was in this journal. There were many recipes written by her father as well as histories of illness that could be cured with not just magic but potions as well. Some include certain kinds of plagues, Dragon pox, Lou Gehrig's disease, Werewolf disease and even the Blood-Malediction curse. It was written with such a detailed explanation that broke down all the complex terms, making even someone who doesn't know much about such ailments understand it.
Aine hugged the book close to her, it was something Elliot had left to her without telling her about it. She was definitely going to finish what he had started, the one thing that could live on in Elliot's stead was his research which may bring hope to those whose lives were filled with such misery from medical conditions. Though Elliot was a Potioneer who owned a small humble business, he was still after all one of the most powerful Healers of all time before he settled down and backed away from the spotlight.
Although there was a glimmer of light in the dark world around Aine, she couldn't help but feel wrathful. Her father was such a good man and yet he was taken so quickly and wrongly from this world. There was so much Aine wanted to tell him and so much thankfulness the man had yet to receive before his demise.
It wasn't fair...
The girl stood up and walked out of her father's room, there was a wave of irrefutable anger within her. She was so overwhelmed with her grief that the fury just explodes so suddenly when she least expects it. She couldn't control it.
How could they... How could he...
Her attention drifted to the mountain of books piled on her desk in her room, just like her father. She had poured hours, days, weeks and years studying to become a Potioneer like her father. To walk in his footsteps and to be someone her father could be proud to call his daughter. She was angry at the world, at those who murdered her father and above all, she was angry at herself too. She places the picture of her family and journals down by her bed before she stomps towards the books.
And thus, she started to lose herself in her emotions, her ire tipping over the edge. She pushes the books off her table, pulling tomes off from the shelves and throwing them onto the ground as she began ripping out the pages. Rage and sadness pooled from her tears as she whimpered, allowing herself to be devoured by her anguish. She harshly tears apart the books, crying her heart out as the memories flood back to her.
Memories of her father and her brewing potions, studying by her father's side and watching him teach her all about the wonders of different ingredients and recipes. It hit her even harder when she realized that he wasn't going to be around anymore. That she wouldn't be able to do any of them again with Elliot.
Why... Why...
Aion rushed towards Aine's room after hearing all the commotion upstairs, he witnessed his sister going on another rampage in destroying all the books. He ran towards her and stops her. "Lianna—! Aine, stop!" he said, holding her back as her hands got red from all the yanking, the pages were all in shreds. "Why are you doing this? Calm down, Lianna! What's wrong?" he pulls her to him, hugging her tight. He noted the cuts on her hands and he softens at the torn scraps.
"Let go—! LET ME GO!" she screams, struggling out of his embrace.
Aion moves away, giving her space as she huffs. His bloodshot eyes filled with worry as he looked at his sister. He could see the distraught, the guilt and the sorrow on her face. She never lashed out like this before and he was both confused and heartbroken at the same time. "Calm down," he soothes her with a gentle voice. "What's wrong?"
"What is the point of all of this?" Aine questions, glancing around at the damage she has caused. "What is the point of this when he's not here...?" she sobbed, her gaze turning to glare as she stared at the remnants of the person she once was; someone who worked hard to be like her father. She studied hard all these years to follow in her father's footsteps to help those in need, and yet when Elliot was hit with the crystallization curse that turned his body into glass, she couldn't do anything but watch. What was the point of all that when she couldn't even save her father?
She break through the hold from her brother and scrambled to the other books, continuing to destroy the rest of the books and severing the pages from their spines.
Aion's heart sank, he hated seeing her like this. Just a few days ago, he was wrecking everything in his room at the Malfoy Manor, enraged by the death of his father. However, it was only when he knew that no matter how much he had broken everything around him, it wouldn't bring his father back. At some point, he sort of caved into acceptance. His father was gone and there was no way to get anyone from the dead back to life. Nevertheless, it seems like his sister was still in a state of denial and he couldn't blame her for it. Grief, after all, is still grief and everyone deals with it differently.
"It's okay... It's okay..." he whispers, eyes glistening with tears too.
"I hate it... I hate it so much that it's making me crazy," Aine mutters, crumpling the papers in her hands. She wanted to rid of this anger, this sadness. She wanted everything to be back to normal again.
Her brother hugs her again, slowly peeling the papers in her hands as she cried into his arms. "He's gone... He abandoned us and I'm never going to forgive him for leaving us..!"
"Shh... It's alright, Lianna. It's okay..." Aion reassures her, there was nothing he could say much besides 'it's okay', knowing that words could never ease the pain or emptiness in their hearts. He could only offer himself to calm his sister only her presence could console him in return.
"Dad..."
The Estoileons were engulfed in another round of tears after breaking down again. They were exhausted after all the crying and sat down on the floor, their backs leaning onto the side of the beds. Aion had left for a moment to go make some Chamomile tea for Aine while the girl merely gapes at all of the fallen pieces of paper. She rises and headed back to her father's room, feeling that her room was giving her too many thoughts. She figured that she wanted the comfort of Elliot and hence, she went back there.
She plops onto the window still, hugging her knees as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror in front, her gaze empty like she wasn't even there. The mirror was tipped to the side, and there were some chips and cracks on the reflective glass, warping the image of her own face. She blinks slowly at herself, remembering her mother who looked just like her. She wondered where Aris was and thought about the fact she was still alive somewhere and if she had known of her husband's death.
Finding herself staring longer than she needed to, Aine looks away. Coincidentally, her gaze trailed to the little concavity behind the mirror. Furrowing her brows as it caught her attention, Aine wandered towards it. She nudged aside the framed mirror and what she found was a dusty and rusty old box.
What's this doing all hidden up in here? Aine thought to herself. She brought the metal box out into the light to inspect it closer. It looked ancient with all the motifs around the chest, she wasn't sure if she was seeing or hearing things or if there was a faint whispering coming out from it followed by a subtle glow illuminating within it.
She rubbed her eyes, thinking that she had it wrong and that her tears were tricking her sight. Nonetheless, the box was still radiating from the cracks.
"What's that?" she hears her brother ask, putting the tray of cups on the table, intrigued by the suspicious box.
"I don't know. I found it behind the mirror," Aine answered, peering over at her brother. "Do you think we should open it? It belongs to dad. Why would he hide something like this in the walls?"
Aion shook his head, he haven't got a clue. "If it's hidden, do you suppose it's important? Why else would he conceal such an old metal chest and... Is that—"
"Yeah, light beaming from it?" she responded.
Her brother nodded, puzzled. "Open it," he said. "Let's see what's inside."
"What if it's something dangerous?" Aine asked.
Aion took his wand out and cocked his brow. "Only one way to find out."
The two Estoileons weren't exactly sure what they were expecting, only that their hearts were pounding nervously. Surely it couldn't be anything dangerous, right?
Aine lifted the lid off slowly, peeking into the darkness that dispersed when the light hits it. "This is..." she mumbles, knitting her brows together when she saw the artefact.
"It's just an old beautiful fabric?" Aion finishes and she nodded.
Little did they know, it wasn't just any 'old beautiful fabric'. Aine scoops the silky cloth up and the two marvel at the sight of it. The textile had a lustre to it and when they brought it close to the sunlight that shone through the window, it twinkled like it was woven with stardust and metal.
"It's beautiful..." the girl gasped.
"Like the starry skies," her brother stated, his mouth hanging open in shock when he saw how it sparkled. Aine bobbed her head, agreeing. Neither of them had seen anything like it before. It was a black fabric that was so dark, it nearly felt like they were being drawn into it.
"There's a note too," Aine remarked.
"Hang on a second—" Aion said, taking the note from the box. His eyes scanned across the cursive words. "I recognize that handwriting. This is... It's mother's handwriting!"
Aine squinted at the note, she looked from her brother to the note, trailing her eyes on every word written on it.
'In time, I hope you understand why I had to leave. The gift bestowed down to me that I have passed onto you was no blessing but a curse. And I vow to seek the cure that could destroy these chains that binds this misery to you, even if it costs me.
But even so, I pray, I pray that perhaps one day, this misfortune could be of help to you. Just like how it had protected me once, I pray that there is still hope in this forsaken curse.
Forgive me.'
"Gift? Blessing? Curse? Cure? Misery?" Aine questioned, she scoffed at the letter. "What did she pass onto who? And— What does she mean by the curse binding misery and misfortune?" Aine had so many questions rushing through her brain. She was flabbergasted by the revelation and she could only look to her brother in hopes he knew what their mother had left behind.
Instead, Aion fell silent, deep in thought. "Aion?" he hears his sister call out to him and he blinks away at her. He wondered about telling his sister about the gift. There wasn't much he knew besides the real identity of his mother and even little with the gift she had passed down. He studies Aine for a moment before he draws his attention back to the note.
"I don't know much, Lianna. All I know was that mother..." he trails off, pursing his lips as if difficult to find the words to phrase his thoughts. "She was under a lot of stress that took a toll on her health when she had the gift."
"What gift?" Aine pursued on.
"It's a myth to many and I have never once seen her use it. But it was something that had been passed down from generation to generation. Only the one chosen will inherit such powers that others were either fearful of it, or desire it."
The puzzles in Aine's mind clicked together piece by piece, "That's what Voldemort wanted, wasn't it? Mother's powers."
Aion nodded, and he sighed. "She was the previous cell of a divine being. Someone who was worshipped and feared by many. A being with many names, many faces," he explained. "Some would even say that it could be a saviour... Or even— A reaper."
"Aion, what are you saying?" Aine inquired. She was so befuddled by his reply that she couldn't even think straight. If anyone puts the characteristics her brother had mentioned, it would be as if her mother was the host of a god or something. A being with many faces and names who struck terror and yet hope to others?
Probably an angel or a devil.
Her brother places a hand on her head, "That's a story for another time, Lianna," he concluded. Aine could see the conflicted look on her brother, he was dodging the question and she could only wonder why. What was he not able to tell her? What more secrets must not be unveiled? "It's almost time to go back," he reminded, looking out at the Sun in the distance that was lowering in the horizon.
Aine gazed back at the fabric, she watches it twinkle, finding herself hypnotize by it. The fabric moved fluidly in her grasp, hugging her hands. Then her eyes widened, she shuts her eyes tightly and reopened them as if wanting to reconfirm what she was witnessing. "Aion, am I seeing things or is my hand gone?"
Aion looks down at her hand, stunned. He quickly peels the fabric before it folded over his own hand, covering it. They watched in awe, Aion's hand had disappeared too. "What the," he mumbles, picking the article up and inspecting it.
Suddenly Aine had an idea, the girl takes it from him and he watches the younger girl places the fabric over her head, letting it drape down her body as it wraps around her. It became like a cloak. Aine heard whisperings from the cloak, and a warm but strange sensation spread over her skin as she looked up to her brother who gawked.
For a split second, he could have sworn he saw the golden pupils of his sister's glowed. Glowed like the cloak before it became translucent and then she was gone. An ugly chill ran down his spine and he shook the feeling away, blinking with confusion.
Though it was like a veil being put on top of Aine's head, covering her face, she could still see her surroundings vividly like the cloak wasn't even there in the first place. Then after a few moments, she tears away the fabric, "It's an invisibility cloak, isn't it?"
"Yeah... It seems like it," Aion replied, still genuinely astonished by what he had seen, concerned even.
"I thought invisibility cloaks are rare. I mean, Harry had one too but that was passed down by his father," Aine stated.
"Yes, they are..." Aion hums, "There are some invisibility cloaks that are made with the hair of a Demiguise creature but those do tend to wear over time. Moody used to have one too. He did mention that after a couple of wears, the enchantment would wear off. But this— This looks really ancient."
In the Wizarding World, invisibility cloaks are precious and limited. Though it would be easy to craft one from the hairs of a Demiguise creature or enchant a random cloak with enchanted spells. These cloaks would often lose their powers in time and would be rendered of their usage, making them vulnerable and prone to damage.
Despite so, there was an exception. Legends speak of an even special invisibility cloak that only Death has worn. It was a cloak that Death would wear to prevent himself from being seen by mortals as he stalks his prey, waiting for their lives to be reaped. It was also one of the three articles of the Deathly Hallows besides the Elder wand and the Resurrection stone.
It was as if the Estoileons both thought of the same thing that they had found their eyes on each other again. It looked like an old cloak that has been stored away in an attic for decades, yet it looked completely brand new and well-kept. It was either the fact that their father had kept the cloak awfully well to the point no insects gnaw at it or it was potentially a really special cloak.
"Do you reckon that this is—" Aine was about to suggest something, but her brother was quick to cut her off.
"No," he shook his head without even letting her finish.
"I mean, it likely is, Aion. How else would you think an old cloak could look as pristine as this?"
"Death has only one cloak, Lianna. And even that is a myth that mortals speak of. It's simply fictional, there is no evidence that such a thing will exist in our home."
"How do you know that Death only has one cloak?" his sister questioned him, raising a brow. "There is no evidence pointing that he doesn't."
Aion sighed, taking the cloak away from her and placing it back into the box. His sister had a point, but even he was too dumbfounded to refute her claims. He puts the lid back only for Aine to stop him.
"Let's take it," she proposed.
"What?"
"We can use it to get to somewhere safe. We don't have to go back to the Manor, Aion!" she told him, hopeful for the first time in so long. Her eyes hold a certain shine that radiated her optimism.
"Draco is back there, Aine. Are you planning to leave him?"
Aine's smile fell instantly. Conflicted, she chewed her lips. She couldn't afford to leave Draco or Narcissa back without saying a word. She knew how much they had helped her and her brother during their time recuperating there. Both of them could have treated her and Aion like prisoners as they were held captive but chose to treat them warmly, like guests.
"Then we take it back with us," she said.
"And risk it falling into the hands of those barbaric monsters?" Aion asked.
That was true too.
Who knows what they might do to them both when they return?
"Well, then. What do we do?" Aine groans, the cloak may serve them well in times of need and leaving it behind unguarded in their wrecked home was perilous too. If they had brought it with them, those wretched masked minions of the Dark Lord may steal it as well.
Aion removed the lid from Aine's hold and puts it back on top of the box. He hides it back where it was and with his wand pointing to the opened wall, he glanced at his sister. "We protect it here."
"Defenseless?"
"Who said anything about leaving it without any protection?" Aion smirked. He took a deep breath and with his wand, he pricked his finger. A scarlet bead oozes out of his skin and floats in front of their eyes. "There is a way where we can conceal it without anyone risking anyone discovering it. We seal it with our blood, that way no one besides us can find it."
"And you are certain this would work?" Aine replied, dubious of the plan.
"Tried it once, and it worked for me. What's to say it won't for this?"
Aine stares at the metal chest and then at her brother, she thought about it for a minute before taking her wand out. It was better than nothing and worth a shot. With a gentle wave of her wand, she pricked her own finger to draw blood from it. She watched it levitate towards Aion's blood, the two small beads of blood swirled together, infusing themselves into one.
Then, with a flick of Aion's wand, the wall started to cover itself until it was perfectly in one piece without any cavities. The Estoileons' blood trails its way to the wall, spreading out and creating a protective barrier around it so no other beings besides them could find it. The red shield soon faded into a golden gate with their family emblem before dissolving away.
"It's done," Aion added and the two finally tore their gaze away from it.
Aine exhaled, realizing she was literally holding her breath whilst watching the spell take place. Aion repairs the damaged mirror and shifted it back to where it was, further hiding the cloak and the shield from sight.
The sun was setting and their freedom was nearly up. They had to go back to the manor soon. Both Aine and Aion sat in their father's room, enjoying the little time they had in their home, in the place where they once felt safe. The house was already been repaired thanks to Aion's magic and Aine's little cleaning. The only thing that was different now was that the head of their home was no longer around, and never will he return again.
They managed to stuff their bags with things that reminded them of home, knowing that they'll probably never come back for quite some time. They wanted the comfort it has and the only way to have that was to bring tiny trinkets that held large significance. Aion had his family ring that shared the same stone as the pendant on Aine's neck as well as their father's research and diary that neither of them had the heart to read. Aine also brought back the jacket her father often wore, the charm bracelet that Elliot had given her and the picture of all of them.
There was no doubt that there were more things they wanted to bring along but had feared that any more will cause them to be stripped away from it.
Peeking out of the window, Aion spotted Snape in the distance looking over at them. He didn't move, he spoke nothing but watch. His silence and stillness only reminded them that it was time to leave.
"We have to go soon," the older brother told his sister who was still staring at their family portrait, a bitter smile skulking on her face.
"I don't want to go, Aion..."
"I don't want to go too, my sweet sister," he caresses Aine, frowning. He plants a kiss on her head and held her up. "But we'll come back..."
Aine gazed sadly at her brother, resting her head on his chest as they take one final look at their home as went down the stairs, preparing to depart.
They made their way out of the door where Aion and Aine both cast a protective enchantment around their house to prevent any outsiders from wandering into their home. This was their home and no one was going to trespass while they were gone for god knows how long.
Aion pulled his sister close, he makes another promise to her.
"When all of this is over... We'll come home."
─── ⋆⋅☀⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☀⋅⋆ ───
I apologize for the late chapter! These few weeks have been rather busy with Christmas preparations... How is everyone doing so far? The year is nearly ending! Can you believe how quickly this year passed? I'm not even ready for the next year, good lord! Anyways, I hope everyone is doing great, and enjoying these last few weeks of this year! Let's make it worth it ^^
Cheers to all of you~
- Zeneria