• Act 3 •
Hermiome Jean Granger was an expert worrier. She troubled her mind with thoughts of inevitability, for the war that came, the death that would follow, and the consequences that were bound to occur. And although it's easy to fear for the future, she tried to haul her mind back towards the present, even then however she had more to worry about.
She worried as her eyes skimmed the Daily Prophet, news of several disappearances and murders marked the headlines. Her worry, for the families and those who might not come home to them.
She worried for Harry, who remained in muggle suburbia, isolated from the Wizard influence, and alone until the trace wore from him. She could hardly bare to think of what he may be going through on Pivot drive.
She worried for Ron, who day by day pondered upon the safety of his family, his fear that had left him eloped in a depressive state. Spending time in his room, awake by eleven everyday and even then was hardly conscious. He tried to laugh, to joke but it was fruitless, she could see it.
She worried fiercely for her parents, who no longer knew her name or face. She struggled as she thought of what may happen to them without her. She worried she'd never see them again.
And in that moment she worried for Rory. Rory who lay heartbroken beneath her blanket. Hermione, who knew she was awake, remained unsure what to say, how to comfort her. And she worried because she knew she couldn't. And that Aurora was simply barrelling towards a state of misery.
It had been not yet a month before that Hermione had urged her friend to share what it was that had her so blue. And as she heard it all, a tear or two shed from her own eyes, Aurora stoic before her as she revealed the truth about the first boy she loved. Not that Rory used that word but Hermione had realised far too early on that she did. And painfully enough the Granger witch felt as if Theodore Nott, the bastard Theodore Nott, may've loved her too.
"Rory." Hermione feigned a reassuring glance as she awoke her friend.
"Yeah?" Aurora feigned her own smile as she sat up. "Sorry I slept in." They both knew it was a lie, but Hermione would let her think she fell for it, just this once.
"Fleur is just downstairs trying on the dress." She beamed. "She wanted all us girls to be there. Come." She pulled her. Aurora grinning from behind her, her smile perhaps too wide.
Hours passed by.
"I don't know." Her accent, thick like honey, yet soft as vanilla, spoke. The French woman dressed in white twirled before her mirror. "Does it need lifting, here?" She showed Mrs Weasley just where the dress hung too low, the Weasley mother frowned deeply as she pinned yet another crease of fabric, the bride requesting for more adjustments, following the prior fitting.
The girls munched on chocolate frogs, awaiting for the third fitting that now had to come after even more adjusting, Ginny whined as more clips were placed, for it was her responsibility to be the extra hand for her mother as she sewed, and often it was Ginny who would then receive a prick to the finger, the sewing needle was responsible for the two bandaids that she wore currently.
"You needn't worry dear, I'll fix this right up." Molly grinned, preparing her sewing set for the third time. No body failed to detect the strain in her tone, no body other than the anxious bride of course.
"I can help, Molly." Aurora stood, in place of Ginny, who cheered gratefully by Hermione, the two girls already running off to the pantry for more chocolate frogs.
"Thank you dear." The older woman pinched the young girls cheek.
• • •
The Malfoy Manor is a landmark of its own. Enclosed by labyrinths, the small mansion was dreadfully isolated, the perfect place for those who wished not to be found roamed, the place of stay for Theodore... the place of stay for Voldemort.
Through the maze of hallways, the grand dining room was the only currently inhabited premise of the entire estate.
Sat at the head of the table, was not indeed the man of the house, disobeying familiar customs, The Dark lord sat instead, awaiting the arrival of his last associates. His patience wore thin as the clock behind him ticked, and his temper worsened as the whimpering of the woman before him grew louder.
Theodore sat four chairs down from his Dark Lord and aside his father. The boy, burdened by previous events had been reluctant to speak throughout the entire summer. Eyebags, purple, pulsated through flesh, and bruised his cheekbones, he hardly slept, his allegiance now determined. His reputation set in stone. And he hated it.
Severus arrived and the meeting adjourned through the words of their leader. "Severus." His words a gentle hiss. "I was beginning to worry you had lost your way." The man, pale and crippled by fate, gestured to the empty chair, "Come, we've saved you a seat." Came his friendly order, one that if denied wouldn't be so friendly anymore. He smiled as his follower sat.
"You bring news I trust."
"It will happen Saturday next at nightfall." He informed his master of the Harry Potters departure from the muggle world, and his ties to adolescence.
"I've heard differently my lord." Another spoke, Corbin Yaxley, his voice grim. "An Auror let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the thirtieth of this month. The day before he turns seventeen."
Theodore's ears perked upon realising what this conversation had been about. He wandered if Aurora knew. Often thoughts of her compelled distraction, he fought to bade her from his mind.
"This is a false trail." Snape embarked. "The Auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter." He glanced down the table, all eyes on him. "Those closest to him —" his eyes met Theodore's. "Believe we have infiltrated the Ministry."
"Well," a lowly acquaintance cackled and snorted towards the other end of the center table. "They got that right, didn't they." Further chuckles of amusement arose.
"What say you, Pius?" The Thicknesse wizards eyes pulled from the serpent that slithered passed him, the Nagini captivating him entirely.
"One hears many things, My lord." His posture stiff. "Whether the truth is among them is not clear." Theodore could have scoffed, such a deceptive form of admitting he had no clue himself.
Voldemort grinned, his yellow teeth peaking through chapped lips. "Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useless Pius." The man's smile small and yet proud. His demeanour darkened as he addressed another. "Where will he be taken, the boy?"
Severus replied. "To a safe house." Theodore, once again allured by the topic of conversation, listened in. "Most likely the home of someone in the order." Theodore wandered if she knew of the order. "I've been told it's been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack him." Theodore hoped that's where she was.
A dainty cough sounded from across him. "My lord, I'd like to volunteer myself for this task." Bellatrix leaned further in, her pout spiteful. "I want to kill the boy."
The dark lord smiled, however the grin offered was one laced with a displeased nature "As inspiring as I find your bloodlust Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter." The dark witch sunk back into her seat, her expression humiliated. "But I face an unfortunate complication." He stood slowly. "That my wand and Potters share the same core." Theodore, once again found himself eloped. Having not yet been aware of such a story. "They are, in some ways, twins. We can wound but not fatally harm one another. If I am to kill him, I must to it with another's wand."
The man, circled his disciples as if his prey, and each acted as such, sinking as the dark lord rounded them, his presence beckoning fear. Even as from behind him, when Theodore felt the dark lord pass, his breath halted until his lord had passed by.
"Oh, surely one of you would like the honor." His tone deadly. "Hmm?" Those ahead of him, cast their faces shamefully toward the table, unwilling to offer their own wand. "What of you, Lucius?"
The man, empty in the eyes, seemed awoken by his acknowledgement. He glanced up towards the man who stood tall beside him, a demeanour as threatening like the snake of who you can't tell intents to bite. Voldemort, who remained always enthralled to seep his venom, stopped before the Malfoy father.
"What, my lord?" His eye twitched.
"I require your wand." His expression darkened as his hands, no, claws spread open and awaiting before his unwilling victim. The Malfoy reluctantly passed over his enchanted weapon. "Do I detect elm?"
"Yes my lord." Came the murmur.
Voldemort snapped the decor from off the end of the wand, his eyes locked mockingly on the man who flinched upon hearing the rip of wood. He tauntingly spoke again. "And the core?"
"Dragon heartstring." Lucius feigned his bravery.
Theodore pitied the wizard, the rump of such torment. Theodore's fear, to be humiliated, to be there. This man was an entity for darkness, with crimson slits for eyes, his complexion, ghostly, Theodore couldn't help but shrink away himself.
The young boy, almost eighteen, glanced up, Miss Burbage, a teacher of his previous school, hung by the strings of a curse, whimpered. Her body limp in the air, frail and beaten, she was practically dead already. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined to tonight by Miss Charity Burbage, who until recently taught at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her specialty was muggle studies." He leered upon the words that fled from his lips.
Laughter echoed, mockery.
"It is Miss Burbages belief that muggles —" His smile fell suddenly. "Are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them." Further chokes of amusement sounded down and along the table, including the shrieks of distaste Bellatrix spat, her tongue down her chin.
Theodore faced away from the woman, shame becoming him, he had not known her personally but it still sickened him to watch her there.
"Severus." She choked, blood dripping from between her teeth and through her lips. "Severus please." The woman pleaded, eyes wide with fear, Snape would not answer her, instead he looked away. "We're friends." She begged, voice hoarse and raspy, bruises marked her throat, that was probably why.
A silent curse sprung from Voldemort, and as quickly as she had been alive, the killing curse had her dead. Draco's lip quivered, having looked away too late, Theodore, whose eyes had already been focused elsewhere clenched his jaw as her body dropped before him.
"Nagini." Theodore could have vomited. "Dinner." The snake he felt, skimmed passed his ancles from under him, and aside Voldemort, the serpent of ebony scales slithered on the table and into sight, bearing her fangs to those she passed. Her jaw contorted loose, the dislocation of her mouth unbearable to witness, and with a sharp strike, her teeth sunk through flesh and ripped apart the woman's face.
Many stood, startled, until Theodore too jumped away from the predator enjoying her meal, and as he looked back, the hairs on his neck risen, goosebumps stricken along his arms, his gaze met the crimson rivers that were Voldemorts eyes.
• • •
Wrist deep in her pockets, Aurora exhaled a gust of thick misty air, the London evening, chilly. The navy morning, greeted them grimly, the sun half risen, some stars still visible. The tip of her nose suffered the intense cold like no other part of her, she constantly released her hands from the comfort of her jacket to cup her face and exhale warm air; her current source of heat, her own body warmth.
She walked the London suburbia cautiously, every house identical to the last, she feared they'd already walked by Harry's place entirely. It helped in no way as even Hagrid began to question it.
Following Alastair Moody, his face deviated into a permanent frown would not accept questions, so she turned back to Hagrid, by which she knew had been there before. "Hagrid, do you know if we've passed it yet?"
"Oh, don't you worry Rory." The half giant grinned. "I know jus' where we —" he scanned a light post up and down. "Well, I don't quite remember that."
Aurora silently worried. "But we should be near? Yes?"
"I guess so." The giant looked around, his head turned the other way, searching for a familiar landmark that would determine their whereabouts. "You know, I'm sure Moody knows jus' where he's goin." He smiled down at the worried girl, she attempted a grin back.
"We're almost there." Hermione confirmed. "Look." She pointed to the letterbox before them. "That's two. Harry's number is four. We're two doors down." She grinned. Auroras jaw fell downward. A muggles sense of organisation was impressive, especially when each house twinned the last. If it had been she, Rory was certain she'd walk into the wrong house time and time again.
"Oh! Now I remember tha'!" Hagrid spoke gleefully.
And finally as they approached yet another dull lookalike house, Moody walked in the driveway. Aurora checked the mailbox, grinning proudly as she read 'number four'.
The door flung open. Harry stood, clutching the wooden slab, his worrisome features fading as he realised it was they who awaited him, and then a beam so bright broke out on his face. "Madeye!"
Hermione and Ron pushed passed the small crowd, beating the rest to the door. And in momentary reunion, they grasped their friend and hugged him tightly. His grin so Cheshire, Rory smuggled her way passed the rest, desperate to reach him herself. "Harry!"
Her arms enclosed around him also, his head buried in the crevice of her neck, still taller than him. "How've you been?" She pulled away, hands holding his shoulders as she assessed his well-being. "What's this?" Gripping his cheeks she turned his face to glare at the grey bruise that teased passed his hairline.
"I hit my head, going in the cupboard." He gestured to the wardrobe under the stairs, she turned to look, aware that for a time that's where he'd lived.
The rest spared heartwarming greetings, bearing customary and friendly hellos, they didn't waste much time as they each rushed inside.
"You're lookin' fit!" Hagrid closed the door behind him.
"Yeah, he's absolutely gorgeous." Alastair, pushed passed them, dragging closed the cloth like curtains, shielding them from sight. "Let's say we get undercover before someone murders him." He proceeded to shrug a hefty bag from off his shoulder, the large sack fell to the floor with a thud.
"Evening." Harry's smile not yet disrupted in the lightest.
Aurora, rubbed her arms together as she neared into the lounge, her eyes wandering over the premise that was Harry's childhood. She frowned in distaste, the wallpaper truely as tacky as Harry and once told her. The rooms absent of furniture seemed lonely in their emptiness.
"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the
Minister." Harry addressed the purple robed wizard, he too assessing the premise for danger, turned to answer.
"You are more important." He placed a hand on Harry's arm assertively.
"Hi Harry." Fleur kissed his cheek. "Bill couldn't make it." She gripped her own wrist tightly, her upset evident.
"Took a hex to the back at work." Fred waltsed passed, claiming the back corner, his twin not far behind.
"Nobody expected snatchers at Gringotts." George huffed. "Bill was just unlucky to be there."
"Is he alright?" Harry faced everyone, hopeful to hear news of his well-being despite not having known him. Aurora stepped up to the boy and nodded, a hand on his shoulder, aware of just how hard guilt hit Harry whether he was involved or not. Having been assured the boy took a moment to process the dropped bag by his feet, his eyebrows raised.
"Alright." Moody pushed passed the crowd, drawing shut the final curtain. "We'll have time for a cozy catch-up later. We've got to get the hell outa here." He faced them each once again, his eye rolling back up his socket and so forth, Rory noticed this was what happened when the Wizard was paranoid. "Potter you're underage, which means you still got the trace on you."
"What's the trace?" Harry stood awkwardly as each eye of the room focused upon him.
"If you sneezed the minister would know who wipes your nose." He leaned in. "The point is, we need to use those forms of transport the trace can't detect. Brooms, threstals, the lot. We'll go in pairs that way if anyone's out there waiting for us, and I reckon there will be, they won't know which Harry Potter is the real one."
Immediately, Harry looked ready to protest. Hermione advanced from behind him before a syllable of disagreement could slip passed his lips, gripping the short locks on the back of his neck, she ripped them from his scull.
"Blimey Hermione." The boy who lived clutched the aching throb of his lower head.
Neglecting to respond or even acknowledge Harry and his whining, the young witch drizzled her friends essence into an open flask. The Polly juice bubbled upon contact, blurbing thick wharfs of odor as it did to. Aurora scrunched her nose as the stink infiltrated passed her nostrils.
Moody sniffed the mixture with a fascinated grin and as he did so, six arranged themselves into a strict line, Aurora among them, ready to replace their identities for the boy who lived. "To those who haven't taken Pollyjuice Potion before, fair warning, it tastes like goblin piss."
"Have lots of experience do you Madeye?" George grinned and to no avail received no reaction. "Just trying to defuse the tension." He jokingly scolded the tough crowd before taking his sip, wincing as the potion met his tongue.
Passing it through to Fred, his brothers reaction was quite the same as he too drank his share, figure shrinking down to the height of Harry, bones thinning, hair blackening, expression tensing.
Following Mundungas, Aurora took a moment to realise, the bottle was now in her grasp. She stared unwilling down at the contents, and before Madeye could judge for taking her time, she brewed all the bravery she could muster before gulping down the mixture in one swallow.
Her throat jerked as the taste poisoned her buds, her breath surely retched, the girl too grew tense in the features as it broiled down through to her stomach, skin growing uncomfortably warm. And as the sensation of heat birthed through her flesh, she felt as her body morphed and stretched, from the angle of her nose, to the hair on her fingers, each and every detail transforming into what would become Harry Potter.
And by the time the last drop had been drunk, Aurora found her reflection through the closed kitchen window. She shivered as it was not she who stared back at her, but instead her dear friend... in her clothes. She gently traced the scar that marked her forehead.
"Wow, we're identical." The twins cackled amongst themselves as if Rory hadn't caught them plotting the very joke when everybody had been told what the plan would be. Her eyes rolled at their antics.
"Ah not yet you're not." Lupin opened the sack left behind them, and out poured a pile of simple boys wear, each item of fabric there seven times over.
Aurora picked up the shirt closest to her first, and turned for the bathroom, that was until she noticed no body seemed keen to do the same. She paused, not enough time, the girl now boy began to shrug off her coat, cheeks a gentle rosemary.
"You need to change too Potter." Madeye gently pushed Harry into the group of changing Harry's.
Rory, shivering as the chill of London air touched her back. Awkwardly, with her head down, she unclasped the bra she wore and threw it aside, the same with her pants. Quickly, she pulled on the provided trousers and shirt, desperate to be bare for the least possible amount of time. Hermione, beside her, or at least who she thought was Hermione, behaved the same way.
"Harry, your eyesight really is awful." The person aside Rory spoke, confirming Hermiones identity as who she had predicted.
"Right then, we'll be pairing off. Each Potter will have a protector." Moody scanned each of them. "Mundungus, stick to me, I wanna keep an eye on yer'." The Harry furthest to the right nodded scarcely. "As for Harry—"
Aurora felt obligated to reply, as if it may be her; and along with rest of the Harry's she spoke. "Yes?"
Moody stared blankly, he maybe sighed and slapped his forehead all the same. "The real Harry. Where the devil are yer anyway?"
From behind Rory, one of the Potters raised his arm, the real one. "Here." He leaned over to look at who addressed him.
"You'll ride with Hagrid." The boy grinned before glancing up at his abnormally tall friend.
"I brought you here sixteen years ago." The half giant spoke softly to the young wizard. "When you were no bigger than a' bowtruckle. Seems only right that I shoul' be the one to take you away now." He placed a hand on his chest as he reminisced fondly. Rory had to grin herself.
"Yeah, yeah it's all very touching. Let's go!" He ordered.
"Aurora!" Fleur spoke, her accent fresh like the London morning breeze. "Which one?" She mumbled trying to look for the Flores witch.
Aurora paused, Theodore was the only one who called her that. She shook her head, dismissing her vulnerability. "Fleur." Aurora walked up to her.
"We'll be going together." She smiled cheerfully offering her a broomstick.
"Head for the Burrow!" Moody instructed, the group on the road like a runway, eager to depart.
"On the count of three!" Aurora readied herself. "One!" Her breathing escalated. "Two!" Fleur smiled gently at her, reassuringly. "Three!" Her last breath, more a gasp as she gathered her light and kicked up off from the pavement.
• • •
Concealed by the fog and mist of a dreadful Monday morning, a battalion worth of Death Eaters prowled amongst the lonesome clouds. Consuming their shade as they sauntered through abyss of the uncharted expanse of the England sky.
Like the mighty predator, scavenging for its meal, they each scoured through shadows, patience wearing thin as they awaited their bait, prepared to strike him down and tear him raw. The boy who lived was a challenging target but each Dark Witch and Wizard there were prepared for the hunt. Harry Potter was vulnerable, and his enemies were awaiting.
Sterling silver shielded him, disguised by an enchanted visor, Theodore could barely even recognise his own reflection when his eyes found not his face but a mask. Not even his beloved curls came to view as they had been hidden by the fabric of his black cloak, and it was this that made him realise what he now was, and how he wasn't Theodore Alejandro Nott any longer but a soldier fighting for a cause he couldn't find it within himself to even believe in.
And with the arrival of the order, chaos broke the silence.
As his thoughts were interrupted, Theodore charged toward the closest members of the order. Sweat cascaded down his neck as he readied his wand for battle, and to both his surprise and dismay he recognised the lightning scar that bared the order member closest to him. He had last expected that he would stand even a chance at capturing Potter himself, but as one who wished to appease the Dark Lord, Theodore had no choice but to attack.
With his weapon raised he threw his first spell. The strike of pure blue light was propelled towards Harry and yet intercepted by who he recognised as Remus Lupin. His old Professor, thankful that none would recognise his face, he allowed it to twist with shame before he fired another hex.
The cloth from his back scattered as the wind led it through air, the speed on his broom accelerating as he fought to beat down the wizards before him. With his eyes set on Harry he pushed further forward his wand ready to take him for his own, and all would have succeeded if it weren't for Harry intercepting... he paused... Harry Potter intercepted him and yet Harry Potter was in front of him.
He realised. "Fuck." Theodore cursed under his breath. Assessing his surroundings he noticed there were Harry's everywhere. Such trickery he had to applaud afterwards but in the mean time, he and three other Death eaters scattered from one of the Potters Lupin and towards another Harry.
Charging after the whoever it was they were truely chasing, whether Harry or not, they noticed he happened to be alone — almost instantly assuring them that this wasn't the Potter they needed. But despite this, they continued to lick the wind, feet clocked under their brooms.
A death eater to the left of him roared, barking orders, Theodore could only assume as he could hear no more than the muffle of his yelling. Swallowing stiffly, Theodore sought comfort in the sounds of his own breath, as it had become all he could hear amongst the whip of air that fled through his eardrums. "Stupefy." He aimed his hex repelled by a defence spell that came not from the Potter before him.
A blonde woman soared from underneath in replace of whoever it was Theodore had just spent a moment before trying to understand. Her lean figure leant forward as her broom surged forward, the Harry before him expertly joined her, working together as they fought to pluck each of them from the sky one by one.
From a distance he witness as his accomplices fell, their bodies worth nothing more than the city lights from beneath them. And as the blonde cast her spell for him, he struggled. "Proteggo!" He failed to hear himself.
Gliding through the thick of a grey dull cloud, for a moment each of them had lost sight of the other, to his advantage, the wizard, directed his broom upward flying above where he had been and as they emerged from clouds, the blonde and 'Harry' bellow him, frantically looked around in search of him.
"Petrificus Totalus." His spell slashed through cloth and met the Harry's back, and throwing his leg over the broom Theodore jumped off, grasping the flying stick by one arm and successfully gripping the blonde woman by her torso.
Hauling himself up with one arm, he witnessed the Potter imposter plummet from the sky, their consciousness betrayed by his curse. The woman in his grasp, wand lost, kicked frantically. Despite Theo's tighter grip, she slipped away, decking his lip with her knuckles.
Argh!" The boy groaned. His mask successfully damaged, fell from him. Tasting the bittersweet tinge of blood on his lip, he tightened his merciless grip, fury dangerous, as he refused to let her go. Her screams familiar to sobs damaged his patience further, urging her to shut up he wrangled her body.
And then with a guttural cry, a name perused through her lips. "Aurora!" The woman wailed, her sobs heavy on the both of them as her figure wracked and shook sickeningly.
Was his sanity already lost?
To him, her absence was oblivion. Each moment disconnected, a tragedy. Her memory had become his vulnerability. The world around him muffled as he struggled to collect his thoughts. Had he beeseeshed for her presence so harshly that he imaged her there? Had his conscience deceived him? He refused to take that risk.
Disrupting the silent hush of his empty mind he listened to himself speak. "Save her." He pleaded amidst the wild strands of blonde hair slapping his face where his tears had fallen.
"What?" She paused, aghast by who it was that held her. Tear tracks of her own drew perfectly down her blossomed cheeks.
And as she spoke again, that familiar silence beckoned his sanity. Her lips moved rapidly, but he rejected her his attention and shouted as he spoke, "FUCKING SAVE HER!" With the expulsion of any reason, his teeth grit as he released the blonde woman, and she too plummeted towards the earth.
Dropping the broom he had snatched from her, the blonde collected herself and soared through the sky and toward the falling figure.
His stomach twisted violently. Eyes bloodshot as he played the useless bystander, begging Merlin that answer him just once, for the sake of all he held dear. And as the Wizard Myth had neglected him each day of his very life, somehow, now he listened. The body who fell from the sky was safe and in the grasp of that woman. Aurora was safe.
The grey he saw within the clouds beamed white as the early London sun greeted him gently and as it did Theodore had only just processed what the woman was trying to say to him before he had dropped.
For what she had said beckoned the loneliness he had fought to condemn since the day Aurora left him. To his avail, it all came rushing back with the very words the blonde woman had spoken as she observed his identity, "But you are just a boy?"
_________________________________
AN,
Hope you enjoyed :)
I also just wanted to let you know that there's going to be a translation of this book! I'm so excited about it, if you wanna have a look at the Spanish version just go check out hiismoon