Rewritten
A major attribute of humans was vanity. This was not exempt from half-humans. There was power in appearance, in looking like the epitome of strength, walking on the ground as if you owned every piece of it, dressing and presenting yourself like the stars hung in the sky because you willed them to.
This, Aurora the Creature knew.
This, she had to use as a weapon, when meeting with the Chieftains.
"I will contact the Sofia Towers." And Chief Demyan certainly had, along with twelve other Chiefs from nearby clans. These twelve, along with Chief Demyan, made up the circle that governed from Germany to Russia and everywhere in between.
Aurora couldn't recall all of them by name, some of them were incredibly reclusive, some had outright refused to leave the boundaries of their territory. It had taken persuasion from Chief Demyan and the mention of a Counselor from the Sofia Towers to make them agree to a meeting. Still, some had sent envoys rather than come themselves. The Chiefs of the Orlov and the Volkov clans were missing, one of their advisors arriving in their stead. The Chief of Kozlov clan had been kind enough to send her brother to act as her representative. It was slightly less disrespectful than the two other Chiefs.
Aurora had never seen the clan in such a pristine condition, but the day that the Chiefs started to arrive, every single thing was in order. Guard Harpies were decked out in uniform and weapons, and, if it was possible, they looked even stiffer.
That day, Aurora had risen at dawn to the sound of Tabitha ordering men to bring in a bathtub. For some reason, Tabitha had become in charge of anything Aurora needed. Something which usually was a maid's job. Aurora had a hunch the Chief assigned Tabitha to her because she was less likely to anger Aurora.
For the entire morning, maids hustled and bustled in and out of her tent, Aurora had been scrubbed and primped and preened. Everything had to be up to Tabitha's standard, and nothing was to be out of place. Hairs were plucked and legs and other places were waxed and scented oils had been rubbed across Aurora's smooth body.
Her wings were trimmed and tended to, and a strange oil was rubbed in between the feathers so that the inky blackness of them glistened.
She was to look like a Hawkins, Tabitha had said, if she wanted them to believe her, and Hawkins' always dressed above and beyond.
She was fitted into an all-black outfit that made her pale skin stand out. A dark, long-sleeved, tube top with a Grecian neckline that exposed her shoulders, and army cargo pants with buckles. Her midriff showed and the leather boots she wore made her almost tall enough to reach Alyosha's shoulder which was an incredible feat. A long straight coat was draped over her form, thin and dark with strategic stripes cut into the back so her wings poked out, long enough to brush the ground as if it was a cloak of royalty.
Tabitha had wrapped an intricate leather band around her forehead, from it a single small jewel hung like a raindrop, as golden as the colour of her eye, the edges of the band disappeared into her flowing hair. Large rings with thick, golden bands and dark jewels embedded into it covered her fingers, like the kind Aurora had only seen in historical paintings of royalty. And the maids had insisted on dabbing red on her lips and lining her eyes with black, so that she looked fierce.
When Aurora was presented with a mirror and she looked at herself, she did not see Aurora the Creature.
Aurora the Creature was lost and solitary, rough and rugged and scarred. She did not look like this new Creature, who stood straight and tall, regal in her features and powerful in her stance, looking as fierce as her ancestors.
Looking like them.
Tabitha had outdone herself, they'd take one look at her and see a Hawkins, Aurora was sure of this. And it's why she had mixed feelings towards her new look.
She was sat opposite Chief Demyan at the table when the other Chiefs started filing in, with Demyan rising to greet them. But Aurora didn't move. She stared straight ahead and recounted every line in Tennyson's longest poem, In Memoriam. She waited and watched, observed, judged. This is what the Thin Man would do, this is what he would show. They set their suspicious eyes on her and whispered behind their hands to their advisors, muttered inconspicuously to their guards behind them, but Aurora was immovable, a marble structure carved by the greeks, her blood proved her superior to these people, and as much as she hated it, they had to know that.
In the end, all twelve seats were filled but for one, at the right hand of Chief Demyan, belonging to a High Counselor from the Sofia Towers.
The High Council was created in the days of Sigurd Hawkins, the first son and successor of Jeahareyon the Creator. Sigurd had been a man of knowledge and intellect, he'd created a Council that consisted of up to fifty Harpies, men and women of science and wisdom, each allowed to fill in a position for as long as they proved useful to the Council. They had to be rich in power, intelligence, have strategic minds and skills in combat. The Council was engaged in a lot of research, in charge of experiments, documentation - they had the entire history of Harpies jotted down. They uncovered different lands and sent out scouts and missionaries around the globe to bring back information and accounts of more of their winged friends, they came up with better ways of living for clans.
They acted as voices of authority as well, seeing issues and problems between clans and coming up with solutions that caused the least casualties. They weren't tempered with unless absolutely necessary, they rarely left the protection of the Sofia Towers - located on the secluded parts of the island of Crete, south of Greece - not unless something absolutely unavoidable had risen.
They were above the rules of clans, but they weren't above one family, known to all as the Hawkins'.
Today, the declaration of a Hawkins had made them send a High Counselor of theirs to the Fedorov clan where a meeting was to occur.
The High Counselor was late.
He had arrived this morning but had not left his tent since entering it.
Aurora did not like it when people kept her waiting. She chanced a look at the other Chiefs while they conversed, her eyes sliding over them like ice against heated skin.
At last, the door behind her opened, and the last member of their party strolled in, with the Chiefs and envoys standing up out of respect for him.
Aurora remained seated.
The Harpy was a young man of about twenty-five to thirty, with red hair that was combed to one side and a short beard, blue eyes glistening from the distance. He was dressed in the blue garb of High Counselors, his wings the same red colour of his hair. He was way too young to be a High Counselor, Aurora thought as she studied him, and concluded that they sent him because he was new and they didn't think this matter important enough to send in the more experienced Counselors. He stared at her inquisitively, nodding his head at the Chiefs as he took his seat.
She focused her attention back on Chief Demyan.
And so we begin.
He stood up and addressed them all in English.
"My fellow Chieftains, my dear old friends, I welcome you and thank you for your arrival. This is my commander Alek and my advisor Agrafena." He gestured to the couple who stood behind and bowed to the rest of them. "I believe it needs no explanation why we are meeting here today,"
"Actually," a Chief interjected, "I believe some explanation is necessary, given the vagueness of your request."
"Und to haffe High Counselor Lavidis brought here, it must pe zomezing of value, isn't zat right, Demyan?" Chief Fawcett said in his German-dominated accent.
Chief Demyan looked at Aurora and then around the room again.
"I thought my message was clear, I told each of you and your Chiefs that there needed to be a meeting held - "
"To discuss future plans," The envoy from Volkov clan cut in.
"And you said ve vere to meet someone important,"
"Specifically, a Hawkins," the first Chief interjected again.
"A rogue Hawkins," the Chief of Kotov drawled.
Aurora remained silent throughout this exchanged, mutely taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
"Is there such a thing?" Asked the envoy from Kozlov clan. "Wouldn't they have been picked up by the royal family when word of them reached any Harpy ear?"
"That's the oddity of this particular Hawkins, Commander Stefan," Counselor Lavidis responded, his lips curling and his eyes trained directly on Aurora. "They have managed to remain unnoticed, and only now when they have something to declare, do they show themselves to us" The others at the table followed his gaze to Aurora. Lavidis waved a hand her way.
"Pray speak, mademoiselle, your silence does not match your countenance, as you seem like a woman who has - much - to say."
Aurora exhaled smoke, pursing her lips as she met the Counselor's steely gaze. "It is better to get the pleasantries out of the way before we dive into business, Counselor," she could feel them concentrate on her mismatched eyes, the gold and coal like opulent jewels, her pitch-black wings raised and defensive.
The sides of the Counselor's mouth twitched up, a secretive smile coming upon his face.
"And so we meet our Hawkins," he murmured, "a young one, however,"
The Chiefs now looked at her with scrutinizing eyes.
"Does age matter when it comes to Harpies?" Aurora asked, bringing her cigarette to her lips.
"Und your name is?" Chief Fawcett asked.
She waited a beat then raised her chin. "My name is Aurora Hawkins,"
"And how does a Hawkins fall into the lap of Chief Demyan?" A different Chief asked.
"I sought him out," Aurora lied, but Chief Demyan did not call her out. High Counselor Lavidis spoke next, his hand writing fiercely on a piece of parchment.
"For the records of this meeting that will be documented and stored within the Sofia Towers, do you, Miss - " He paused, flicking his eyes up to her.
"Aurora," He finally said, "do you state the truth when you say that you are, in fact, a Hawkins?"
Aurora flicked the ash from her cigarette and sat back.
"Yes." She stated.
"Do you have the blood of Jeahareyon Hawkins running through your veins?"
"I do."
"And your parents are?"
Aurora shifted in her seat, fixing an intimidating glare on her face, the one she imagined on the Thin Man's face whenever Golden Boy told her of his meetings with her father.
"I am the daughter of Adrik and Felicity Hawkins."
The High Counselor wrote it down with glances at her.
"Adrik Hawkins was a squib." A small Chief a few seats down from her spoke up, nervousness evident on his face but his voice was steady.
And he was also a monster and a butcher. But you lot don't care for that do you? An abuser he might have been, but firstly, and more importantly, he was a squib.
She turned to him.
"But as you can see, I am not."
"And you called this meeting?"
"I did."
"What for, might I ask, Miss Hawkins?" The Chief of Egorov clan asked, her tattooed face curious as she looked at Aurora.
Golden Boy was right, Aurora would have to play Harbinger of war.
The cigarette was put out and another was lit, and then, Aurora the Creature turned into Aurora the Diplomat.
"Most of you may not know this, some of you might, but a Wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort has risen again, and he intents to start another war - "
"A var among the Vizards," A new voice spat. "Not vone vee need to concern ourselves vith."
She set her blazing eyes on them, making sure that they all were listening before she started to speak, the words escaping smoothly and coated in power.
"I had hoped that, given all of your important positions, you would not be so naive as to think that you can be exempt from this war because of your half-breed nature. Lord Voldemort does not see Wizard or Harpy or Muggle, he sees power and he intends to take it. He's done it before and he'll do it again, you can be assured of that. You can either join the slaughter or be slaughtered."
Her lips curled back, her hand tightening into a fist as she continued.
"They have always been interested in Harpies, history tells us that any tyrant that rises within the Wizarding community starts his reign by striking deals with the Chiefs of Harpies and other half-breed creatures. Our ancestors were gullible and weak enough to fall for their ideals and look where that has led us." Her teeth bared in disgust.
"We hide in the wilderness because we are hunted exclusively by those we have betrayed and brutally murdered. The war between Wizards and Harpies started the day we sided with the villains of history. We have a chance now to redeem ourselves."
There, done now. That was more speaking than Aurora was comfortable with and Jeahareyon knows she's not eager to do it again.
The fuck was Dumbledore thinking sending her to talk to people and convince them?
"By picking another side? Again?" The Chief of Egorov spoke up, her chocolate eyes hard and stern.
"By picking the right side," Aurora responded.
"And vich side is that?" The Chief of Bobrov clan asked sardonically. "Vho are vee to stand behind this time?"
Drop the bomb and watch the chaos rise.
"Harry Potter."
Oh, oh the silence that followed. Their faces! Good job, Aurora, you made the most powerful half-breeds from Germany to Russia look comical.
"This is a jest, Demyan, surely," the Chief of Sokolov clan finally spoke up, looking to Demyan with an incredulous expression.
"Believe me, Artyom, I wish it was," Chief Demyan replied dryly, taking a large swig of his wine. He looked quite done with the meeting, as if he'd given up on life as soon as Aurora started speaking.
"Harry Potter is only a child!"
"He is a boy!"
"Arrogant, probably,"
"How could ve fight for a Vizard vho is still green?"
"It is absurd!"
"An insult to Harpies! Ve are majestic creatures, ve do not bow down to an adolescent boy!"
"Harry Potter is already fighting in the war, the war you're all avoiding."
"Because he started it," the Chief of Kotov said.
"And he ended the last one." Aurora snapped. "If I recall correctly, your clans were all getting butchered in the last war by Voldemort and his feral disciples. Now that he's back, do you honestly expect anything less from him, do none of you want revenge?" They eyed her sceptically, some with open distaste.
"Have none of you lost someone dear to you because of Lord Voldemort and his massacre of half-breeds?" There was a shift between them.
Aurora waited, biting her lower lip. When no one supplied an answer, she continued to speak.
"I have. Not just a person, I lost out on a life I could have had. I lost out on a person I could have been had I not been too busy fighting for my life, because of rules Wizards set based on a stereotype. Because they'd seen Harpies choose the wrong side too many times. I have been cheated in life, simply because I was born the wrong species in a world dominated by Wizards, I don't intend to stay the same during this war. I intend to fight."
"And are we to fight for a child?"
"No, you are to fight for your freedom. Look at yourselves, look at our species. What have you been reduced to? Living in shadows, in the corners of the world, hiding to save your lives, hated and scorned and accepting of such hatred? Standing by and doing nothing while your name is taken and raked through dog shit? Is this what our ancestors worked to achieve, all the glory and honour Harpies used to have turned to ashes in your mouth, because a chance came to rectify your reputation and you were too cowardly to take it?"
"Watch your tongue, girl - you should know who you speak to." If they thought they could frighten her, then they certainly didn't know Aurora the Creature.
"I'm not afraid of you," Aurora scoffed. "Nor of any man who walks this earth. You have yet to earn my respect, so until you do so, I call it as I see it. And all I see is a bunch of cowards."
"I am curious, Miss Hawkins, of who inspired you to such a degree that you are here now, so passionately calling for war?" The envoy from Orlov clan spoke up.
Aurora lit another cigarette. Goddamnit, it was never enough nicotine around these people.
"Someone who is a very popular advocate for the free lives of half-breeds,"
There was only one person, and they all knew who.
"You work for Albus Dumbledore." One of them stated.
"The greatest Wizard of all time?" One of the Chiefs asked with what she detected as sarcasm.
Aurora exhaled the smoke through her teeth and nodded. "It was him who granted me the privilege of a roof and a bed to sleep in."
"You have joined rank with Wizards?" Commander Stefan asked, his voice laced with disgust.
She didn't judge him for judging her, Aurora felt the same for a very long time and still kind of does.
"I felt the same in the beginning, but yes, you could say I have."
"How low and pathetic for a Harpy of your stature, but what else could be expected from the bastard spawn of a squib?" The Chief of Kotov clan, who'd been snide from the very beginning of the meeting, said lowly, lips curled and teeth bared. Chief Demyan groaned into his hand, his head hanging.
And who the fuck does this sod think he's speaking to?
Aurora stubbed out her cigarette against the edge of the table, silent as she settled back in her chair and set her steely glare on him, crossing one leg over the other and pressing her lips together, allowing so much power and rage to show in her body language that he had to hold back a flinch under the iciness of her gold and black eyes.
"A - Harpy of my stature - as you so eloquently put it, has by far the purest blood in this room, in this clan, and perhaps in the next fifteen-hundred-mile radius. Which means that my father may have been a squib, but he was a Hawkins squib, and I am a Hawkins spawn, which also means that the next time you speak to me that way, I will not hesitate to skin you alive and set your carved remains on fire, do you understand?"
While she spoke, Aurora was nonverbally restricting the Chief's airways using the Choking spell, watching the man wheeze and gasp, his hands slowly raising to his throat and clawing once he realized that all of his airways were blocked. It didn't take long for the others to notice the struggle of the Chief, nor the reason behind it, as he stared at her with wide eyes and gasped desperately for air. His guards who stood behind him could do nothing but watch, afraid of both her and their Chief's fate.
Aurora's face was emotionless, her lips twitching only slightly as she squeezed his airways a little tighter. "Do you understand?" she repeated, tilting her head as she watched, unaffected, unfazed, seemingly having no problem with potentially killing the man.
Chief Buthen nodded frantically, his face looking significantly more purple. Aurora lifted the spell, satisfied with the display. The spawn of a squib she may be, but she would take disrespect from no one. No matter how powerful.
Silence resonated through the chamber, broken only by the Chief inhaling loudly.
Aurora sighed, pouting as she played casually with the rings on her fingers.
"I promised Chief Demyan I wouldn't resort to violence and now look, you've made me, I hope you're happy." Chief Demyan shook his head exasperatedly at her, patting Chief Buthen's back as the man coughed.
She shrugged petulantly at him. "He started it, not me. I don't tolerate disrespect, not from anyone."
She stood up, twirling her lighter between her fingers as she walked around the room to look out the window. It was a windy day, the trees swayed to their own melody and the sky darkened with each patch of cloud behind it.
She walked back to the front of the table, avoiding the guards who stood behind their designated Chief with practised blankness on their face, and looked at the chattering Chieftains, all whispering indignantly to one another.
"I hope you make the right decision, one day, your names may be written down in history, but it's your choice whether you're written down as casualties, or as warriors who fought for freedom."
She settled both hands flat against the surface and stared deeply at all of them, hoping to see a difference, a reaction, a flicker of agreement. She waited for the silence to fill in, but they remained indecisive.
"Thank you for your time, I await your answer at your earliest convenience."
The meeting ended then, the rest stayed behind while Aurora left with a swish of her coat and one last look at the table filled with powerful men and women. She flew back to her tent, hoping she'd done enough. It was done, her mission fulfilled, now she just had to wait.
Aurora loathed waiting.
Alyosha caught up with her once he caught sight of her.
"You survived," he observed, the Russian turning his tone suspicious.
"I've got thick skin," Aurora responded.
"And the Chieftains survived. . .you?" In clearer words, he was asking if she slashed anyone with her claws.
Which did not happen, not physically at least, but verbally. . .well, you were there.
"Just barely."
He looked down at her suspiciously. Aurora swiftly changed the subject.
"I need a strong drink and some parchment to write,"
Alyosha nodded as he set out on the tasks.
Albus had been clear that all of his letters got intercepted, so before Aurora left, they set about finding a code for themselves. Other languages wouldn't work because of translation spells, runes wouldn't work because Aurora did not know them. One common interest they both shared happened to be poetry. So verses were set in codes and poets were referenced in certain situation.
So when Alyosha returned with writing equipment and a bottle of very fine whiskey, Aurora smoked a cigarette, helped herself to a glass, and sat down to write a quote from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and send it to Dumbledore.
'Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war'
She did not sign the letter, merely sealed it and sent it. He wouldn't need any markings to recognize it from her, no one would randomly send him poetry.
Aurora finally relaxed, her head hanging back tiredly, a strange sort of feeling brewing in her stomach. Was this it? Or was it the whiskey? The start of the war. War, war, bloody, sodding, war. It was looming above them, a black cloud of dread that grew thicker and bigger the more they stalled. Lives will be lost, heroes and cowards will show themselves, and each of them would have no choice but to fight to protect those they love.
It was strange, bizarre, Aurora never considered herself good, simply because she wasn't. She knew that. What she did in that room to Chief Buthen was an obvious display of power, to show superiority. Such power never fell into the hands of someone good. Devil, he had called her, demon, her father had screamed as his belt ripped into her back.
Well, look at her now, you monstrous fucker.
The Devil was fighting on the side of the Angels.