Black Aeon

Chapter three

London bridge is falling down, My fair lady....

"'GANIE!" Harry ran forward, and threw himself onto his knees, throwing bricks out of the way in a frenzy. Tears poured down his face, creating streaks in the dust that had settled on his cheeks. After what seemed an eternity, he pulled the last brick off her. The sobbing began afresh as he gently pulled her out of the rubble and cradled her head in his lap. The cut over her eye that had been a scar, the one that Remus had been so panicky about, was open and bleeding sluggishly. Her eyes were shut and her lips slightly parted, her jaw slack. Harry stared at her with blurry eyes, brushing her face to get rid of the dust and small chips of brick. "Oh 'Ganie, what have they done to you?" She didn't reply. Slowly, fearfully, Harry put two fingertips to the pulse point at her throat. And felt nothing. The sobs caught in his throat, and he choked, then howled out, agony ripping through his soul.

*

He completely ignored the people who gasped with shock to see him walk past, cradling his sister in his arms. Remus saw him first.

"Harry! Oh god, is that... is she?" I can't answer... I can't make it true... He just looked at the man. The werewolf's face crumpled as he stared at the only girl he would ever consider his daughter. "Ulvli..." He took her from Harry, and hugged her tightly. "Come on baby, wake up! It isn't true, you aren't gone! Stop fooling around!" His tears hit the still from, creating tiny dark spots in her dusty clothing. Harry watched, bewildered, and Remus looked up at the sky and snarled viciously.

"Lily, you had better be listening! I can't cope with this again! Bring her back, I know you can; bring her back! Give her back to me!"

For a moment, there was nothing, then a soft wind picked up, stirring the powdery air. A sweet, slightly musky scent, like crushed flowers left out in the rain wrapped around them all, and tiny, brilliant green lights floated around in the wind. Lights the colour of Harry's eyes.

~

"Morgan... Morgan..." A voice was calling her name. She looked around in the darkness.

"Hello? Is any one there? This isn't funny you know, it isn't nice to play tricks on people, even when they're dead." A tiny chuckle fluttered in the air around her, and a voice with lacings of a Manx accent drifted to her.

"It isn't time for you yet Little One. Go back. Follow the light." She looked, and saw that there was a light fluttering in the distance.

"You know, I would follow the light, but following lights usually leads to getting hit by a train." A sigh echoed in the darkness.

"Ok, that's it. I'm no good with the mystical voice. Look love, just do as your Mam says and FOLLOW THE FUCKING LIGHT!" She grinned, and began to trot toward the little flicking orb.

"Ok ok Mama, keep your non- corporeal shirt on, I'm going." She could feel the wind on her cheeks...

Slowly, she opened her eyes. She didn't panic when she saw every thing was in black and white; her body had already begun to die. She felt safe with strong arms holding her, and the smell of hot sugar and smoke was close to her.

"M... Mussy?" her voice sounded croaked, and tiny, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. She could vaguely see him smile.

"Mussy indeed, baby. You've had us worried. Being unconscious... well, being basically dead for two weeks isn't good for any one."

"Dead... two weeks?" Why the hell can't I form coherent sentences? This is so embarrassing. "Harry?"

"I was wondering when you would be asking for me." Slowly, she looked over to the doorway, her muscles slow and half asleep. Harry smiled faintly at her, eyes misty. "Hey 'Ganie."

"Hey you." Remus, being ever tactful, left the room. Wylow blinked again, swallowing.

Who removed my contacts?

Ginny. That girl has very skilled fingers, you know.

Yeah. Don't linger in doorways, it's very rude. Harry smiled, and walked into the room, sitting on the edge of her bed. It was at that moment she realized that she was back at the Weasleys house. More importantly though, she was in her pyjamas. Now, unless she was horribly mistaken, she had not gone out on that fateful day in her night things.

"Erm, Harry?"

"'Ganie?"

"Who changed my clothes?"

"Ron did. Oh, and he gave you an extra long sponge bath. He's become rather attached to you. Gave you a full body massage every day to keep your blood from settling. Of course, he had to remove your clothes to do it."

"You had better be kidding."

"Don't worry, I am. Ginny did it."

"Thank God for small mercies. No, wait, I don't believe in God. Thank Christmas pudding." Harry rolled his eyes, and yelled out of the door.

"She's ok folks! She's already talking utter rubbish!"

"For gods' sake Harry, just say shit and be done with it."

"You are a bad influence."

"Ah, recognition at last." She swallowed, and closed her eyes, then opened them again. Nothing changed. Harry looked at her with concern written in his face.

"'Ganie? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Honestly." She didn't want to worry him. Besides, he would never find out. She could live without colour, couldn't she? Of course she could.

*

Wylow lay curled up in a ball, her eyes tightly shut. Tears squeezed past her eyelids, trickling down her cheeks and soaking her pillow. She couldn't bear it; she wanted the colour back in her life, but she couldn't have it. She had asked for books to read while she recovered, and desperately searched for a cure, and she had finally given up hope entirely. She would never again see the glorious colours on earth. When there was a knock on the door, she sat up and quickly wiped her eyes.

"Come in." Mrs. Weasley pushed open the door, a smile full of warmth and caring on her round features.

"Hello dear. I thought you might want something to eat." She walked into the room, carrying a tray with a bowl and a glass of what she assumed was pumpkin or orange juice on it. Wylow smiled faintly, using her hands to push herself up.

"Thank you. I'm not sure if I can eat much." Worry darted across the red-haired woman's face.

"Wylow, you haven't eaten properly for almost a week; school starts next week, you need to build yourself up again." She sat on the edge of her bed, and, before Wylow could protest, dipped a spoon into the bowl, which was full of a creamy soup, and held it out to her. Wylow smiled faintly, and sipped the soup off of the spoon. She took the spoon, and began to eat the hot chicken soup under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Weasley. The woman beamed as Wylow finished the first meal she had managed in seven days, and left with the empty dishes, leaving Wylow alone with the glass of what had turned out to be milk. It was good milk too, rich, creamy and deliciously cool. She sipped it, gazing out of her open window at the grey tree swishing about in a wind against a palest grey sky. The slightly depressing sight was blocked by an owl swooping in through the window, dropping four letters on her lap, and swooping back out. By the feel of the parchments, and the absolutely ridiculous address on the one addressed to her ('Miss Wylow Potter, Bed, The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole), they were hers, her brothers' and the Weasleys' Hogwarts letters. She stared at them for a moment. She hadn't left the bed she was lying on for a week for more then ten minutes, and she didn't feel up to calling some one to her, not even telepathically. Setting her jaw resolutely, she swung the duvet off of her legs, and slowly put her feet on the floor, then stood. For a moment, the room spun around her wildly, then settled. A small smile flitting over her mouth, she walked a little unsteadily to the door.

*

"I have letters." The people around the table looked up, and gaped in shock to see the tousled haired girl standing in the door way. Well, leaning against the doorway, with letters clutched in her hand. For a moment, she looked around for Remus, and then she remembered that he had gone back to, what had been their home and was now his home, in France. Harry walked over to her frowning.

"'Ganie, you shouldn't be out of bed yet."

"Pish tosh, I've been molly coddled enough. I've got our Hogwarts letters; the damn owl thought it would be amusing to dump them in my lap with out as much as a how- do. Any way, can I sit down? I feel a little dizzy." With Harry's help, she sat down at the table and rested her head in her arms for a moment. She then sat up brightly. "Right, letters. One for Weasley, one for Ginny- Bean and one for Harry." As she said the names, she threw them at the person with startling accuracy. She grinned at them, and then focused on opening her letter. Blah blah blah, new books, blah blah blah, standard new uniform, blah blah... blah?! She stared at the words, and then let out a soft 'meep' sound. The people around the table turned to stare at her. Except for Weasley, who was looking at his letter with the same shock.

"Wylow? What is it?"

"I... I'm Head Girl..." Weasley looked up, and grinned at her.

"I'm Head Boy." This was too much for Mrs. Weasley; she fainted. Wylow rolled her eyes, and looked down the table.

"Does she always do this?" Ginny shrugged.

"Pretty much, yea."

"Typical. Anything to drink?"

*

George smiled wistfully at the train, and sighed melodramatically.

"Remember our seventh year Fred? No graduation for us." His twin grinned.

"That went out of the window rather didn't it?" Wylow, who had been standing beside them, groaned.

"Enough with the bad jokes, please!" she walked away, and came within hearing of Weasley and his mum.

"Now Ron, have you got everything? Trunk? Wand? Badge?"

"Yes yes and yes! Leave off Mum!" Wylow grinned, and winked at her brother.

She's just so proud. What's this... the third Head Boy in the family? And with any luck, when I leave Ginny with be Head Girl.

Stop being bitchy and get on the train. Thinking about how wonderfully polite her brother was, she began to get into the once scarlet now grey train, when some one shouted.

"Ulvli! Wait!" she turned her head, and a brilliant smile broke out over her face.

"Mussy!" Immediately, she let go of the bar that she had been holding, and tore over the platform and threw herself into his arms. She inhaled the smell that had comforted her for her childhood deeply, snuggling against his chest. He dropped a kiss onto her hair, squeezing her tightly.

"God I'm glad to see you're alright; you had me worried when you wouldn't wake up. But you're alright. And you're Head Girl. God, Lily and James would have been so proud. Look, I've found some things that I thought you might like." He pulled away from her, indicating the bag he had thrown down to hug her. Wylow raised her eyebrows, and knelt down to open it.

Inside, the first thing she found was a radio.

"Thanks Remus, but I already have one of these."

"No you don't. This was Lily's special radio. She did something really strange to it, and it stopped playing music from... it was nineteen seventy nine then, and it started playing music from nineteen eighty, nineteen ninety... you get the picture. She liked a lot of those bands that you like."

"Oooh, goody. An insane radio. Just what I've always wanted." She pulled a small, purple velvet pouch out of the bag, and pulled open the draw strings, tipping it over onto her palm. First, a black plectrum with the silver profile of a wolf on it dropped into her palm, and then two rings. One was like the edging of lace, wavy and thin, and the other was a claddagh ring. Both rings were tiny, as though to fit on the fingers of some one with very slender fingers. She looked up at Remus, to find he was looking at the two rings wistfully.

"That was Lily's favourite plectrum. One of her best friends and I had it made especially for her. And those were her wedding and... well, I suppose you could call it her engagement ring." Slowly, Wylow slipped the two rings onto her third finger on her right hand. They fitted perfectly. She put the plectrum into her pocket, and the radio back in the bag.

"Thank you Remus."

"They're yours by right; no need to thank me." She smiled, and moved to hug him, when a familiar voice called her name.

"Wylow! Hey, Wylow!"

"Hunter!" She spun around, and grinned as her tall friend bounded over. She turned to Remus. "Remus, this is Hunter Carlisle, one of my best... are you alright?" the mans' face had suddenly gone very pale as though he had seen a ghost. He was looking past Hunter, to the man who was following him. Mr. Carlisle froze when he reached them.

"...Falcon?" Remus's voice sounded small, and a little wobbly, as though he were trying not to cry.

"Remus?" the two teenagers looked back and forth between their respective adults, then looked at each other and shrugged. Hunter leaned over, and stage whispered "I think we should leave them to stare into each other's eyes in private." Immediately, the two wizards looked away from each other. Some thing was going on, a some thing Wylow was determined to find out.

*

The train made a cheerful chugging noise as it pulled out of the station. Wylow pushed open a window, and leaned out, stretching out her hand to the man who ran beside it, laughing.

"Love you Remus!"

"And you! Make us proud, Head Girl!" Before she could reply, the train gathered speed and Remus stopped, and stood waving his hand until they turned a corner and she couldn't see him any longer. There was a little cough from behind her.

"When you're finished mooning over the Wolf Man," Weasley grinned, "We have a Prefect's meeting to attend to." Wylow nodded.

"Lead on, good sir, lead on."

"Sir? Hmm, I could get used to that. Follow on, madam, follow on." He bowed, a little clumsily, and swept out of the room, followed by a smirking Wylow. Wylow quickly caught up, and jabbed her elbow into his ribs. Weasley immediately copied her. They ended up stumbling down the train, laughing like four year olds who have just found a frog. A drawl reached her ears, and a little shiver crawled up her arm like a spider.

"-Of course, I can't understand why Dumbledore didn't choose Pansy and I, and who did he choose? Because honestly, he must be insane." Yes indeedy, she knew that snobbish, suck- my- shiny- white- arse voice.

"Malfoy my dearest darling shnuckums." She pulled a kissy face and pinched his cheeks. She could hear Weasley and her brother killing themselves behind her, as Malfoy's face turned a brilliant shade of puce. She continued, pinching harder. "How is my baby, huh? Did Dwaci-kins dwink up all his milk like a good wittle boy den, huh?" She could hear even Hermione laughing now. Immediately she straightened up and raised an eyebrow. "I would appreciate it if you kept your comments to yourself in future Malfoy, is that clear?"

"You don't have the right to order me around Potter." Ahh, revenge was sweet.

"Actually, as your Head Girl," She let the words sink in, "I have every right. Now sit down and belt up." She flipped her multitude of plaits, and sauntered over to Weasley, who was still choking with laughter. She jabbed him in the ribs, and he immediately straightened up, smoothing his first set of new robes.

"Right every one, for those of you who have been Prefects for a year or more, you know the rules-"

"-So bear with us and try not to die of boredom."

"For the new ones, you listen up."

"Listen up good or Wylow get pink Water Boggle to take you away!"

"Do be quiet dear."

"Sorry boss." She winked at her brother, and waited for Weasley to continue.

"Ahem. Well, you're expected to patrol the carriages, making sure that there are no fights, and that people get changed on time."

"And lynching the trolley witch if you get bored."

"Wylow, that's just you."

"I was wondering why I always had more food then the others..."

"Anyway. I'm Ron Weasley, and this is Wylow Potter, and we're you're new Head Boy and Girl. Of course, if you didn't know who we were I'd have to wonder when you have been for the last few years.

"Possibly in a very deep hole with sound proof doors and windows, no radio or newspapers and a pair of Sprouts fluffy pink ear muffs, the new hole dwellers fashion accessory to die for."

"Er, I think we're getting a little side tracked here Wylow."

"I think you might be right. Well, Mr. smug pants has done enough talking, methinks. Right, as for your rights: you have the power to hand out detention, but remove or give House points. That privilege is reserved for the teachers, Weasley and myself. I don't think that there's anything else, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Good. Piss off the lot of you; I've had enough of you for one morning. Go and... catch a chicken." Several pairs of incredulous eyes fixed on Wylow, but she merely smiled blithely. She didn't mind that every one thought that she was crazy, it was perfectly normal that they did.

*

You can tell how your year is going to be by how it starts. And having a teacher drag you off at the beginning of the year is not the best start that you could hope for. That was what ran through Wylow's head as she and Harry were led to a carriage by McGonagall. Now, this was a teacher that Wylow really didn't like, mainly for the reason that said teacher was furious that her once favourite pupils' daughter wasn't in her house, and was in fact in Slytherin. But Wylow disliked her also because she disliked most teachers.

She glanced at Harry, her left eyebrow raised. The look had been emphasised by the slender scar that sliced through it.

Harry, what's going on?

If I knew that, do you think that I would be this confused?

True true. So sorry sire.

Hm. So you should be my lady. She rolled her eyes, and twisted the claddagh ring around her finger. The poor boy didn't know how close that he was. Stupid mother, why did you have to be the saving the world and getting a title type of women? Why couldn't you be the stays home and makes Danishes type? Or the live type, that would also have been fine.

A hand folded around hers, and twisted it to look into the light.

"Pray do tell Princess, where did you get the fancy, expensive rings?" Harry raised an eyebrow over his glasses. Wylow looked down at them, then up at Harry.

"...They were Mums'. Da... Remus gave them to me." she smiled. "You know, I called Remus Dad for so long, I'm still getting used to calling him 'Remus'." He squeezed her hand gently, and continued to hold it. McGonagall coughed, and opened the door.

"In case you two failed to notice, we are at the school now." Moody bitch. She needed the lemon that had moved into her arse to either leave, or send the stick that it rooms with packing. Wylow sighed, and let Harry pull her out of the carriage.

The number of eyes that stared at them as they walked four paces (yes, of course we'll walk four paces behind you, Your Majesty) behind McGonagall was stunning. It seemed that every pupil in the school wanted to know why Harry Potter and his sister, what's- her- name, were being taken away by the Gryffindor Grouch, as Wylow and her select group of friends called her.

So Harry; what do you think we've done now?

Well, in your case, breathed the same air as McGonagall, in my case, no idea.

You know, if you were any more charming, people might die.

I know. Being me is a trying task.

Ever since you started hanging around me, you have become more and more sarcastic.

Your fault, not mine. She wasn't even going to bother to reply. Stupid sarcastic prat, he was becoming more and more like her everyday. She had to fix that, there was only room for one person like her in this school. Harry reached out, and took her hand.

~

She was always much calmer then him when it came to meeting the Headmaster with out knowing why they were being taken. Harry's heart was jumping about nervously in his chest as he waited for McGonagall to give the gargoyle the password.

"Salami." The gargoyle sprang to life, and leapt aside.

I thought that he always used sweets as his password.

Meh, maybe he got bored. She always had the simple answers. Damn her. Wylow tugged his hand, and dragged him through the office door behind her.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, blue eyes sparkling merrily behind his half moon glasses. Wylow looked at him, and gracefully threw herself in a chair. Harry rolled his eyes and sat down, a little more sedately then his twin he hoped.

"Yes yes, that's right, sit down you two."

Odd, I thought we already had done.

Shush. Dumbledore smiled at them for a moment, and then they continued to sit in silence. Harry looked at Wylow, to find her to be looking at her, her eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

"Um, professor? What was it you wanted to talk to us about?" Dumbledore blinked at the Slytherin girl, as though he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Hmm? Oh yes, indeed. I asked Professor McGonagall to bring you here because there is a matter at hand which, once again, concerns you two. We have recently discovered through our... informants," Yea, he means Snape. "That Voldemort is once again hunting. More specifically, hunting for you two." If any passers by had expected a great reaction from the two, Harry mused as he took his sisters hand absently, or even just a little reaction, then they would have been very disappointed. This was no big news to them; Voldemort, or Snakey, and Wylow called him, usually had some plan cooking in his half fried reptilian brain. But Dumbledore wasn't finished yet. Not yet. "He has found a way to track you; when ever you use your telepathic connection- yes Mr. Potter, I do know about it, don't look so shocked-, he can pinpoint your location within moments. For instance, he could know that you were in my office at this moment. Of course, we do know a way to stop him from being able to find you, but it would be hard on the both of you." Harry was confused, but Wylow stared at Dumbledore, in a furious, confused way.

"You're not serious."

"I'm afraid I am, Miss Potter."

'Ganie? What the hell is he talking about?

I'm sorry Harry. I don't want to. But... it's necessary.

What is? 'Ganie, what was he talking about? 'Ganie, answer me now! 'Ganie- There was a strange fizzing in his mind, and then a slamming noise, as though a door had been closed. He thought desperately at his sister, but there was no reply. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared mournfully at him. Then he realized what she had done.

"What... what did you do?" she closed her eyes, and replied softly.

"I severed our connection..."