Black Aeon

Chapter four

And In Flames Shall We Be Enfolded

Harry had always been one to express his emotions, so when he was silent, and stared at her, Wylow knew that he was about to explode.

"You did... what?" This was not good; he was using the vicious voice.

"S... severed our connection." Crawl under the table and die. Just let me crawl under the table and fucking die. A dark grey tinge (which was actually probably red; she just couldn't bloody see it) was creeping down from Harry's ears, and his right eye was twitching the way it did when he was very angry.

"Permanently?"

"...I don't know..." oh dear, he was REALLY angry now.

"You don't know. You just cut off our connection, part of our twin-ship, and you don't even fucking know if it's fixable?!" in the middle of his shout, he had thrown his chair back and was glaring down at her. It was amazing how much he looked like Snape when he did that. Bad time! Bad time!!

"I'm sorry Harry-"

"Sorry? Ha! Sorry. You'll be sorry by the time I'm-"

"Mr. Potter, please, return to your seat and desist you shouting." Harry turned on Dumbledore, and for a moment Wylow thought that Harry was about to tell Dumbledore exactly where he could 'return' his seat to. But instead, he sat down, seething. Dumbledore looked at Wylow sadly. "That was a very brave thing you did Miss Potter. Well done." Stupid bastard! Tears fogged up her vision, and she tore out of her seat and bolted through the door, racing down the corridor. Some how, she managed to trip, and hit the ground heavily. She raised herself up on her arms, and then just collapsed. She felt as if all of her energy was gone, and as though she was utterly alone.

"What's the matter Potter? Can't believe that you're in my presence?" Malfoy. Just what she needed.

"Just leave me alone Malfoy."

"Hmm, now, that isn't what you said last-"

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up and leave me alone."

"Oh, some one is pretty full of themselves, even thought they are lying on the floor. Why is that? Waiting for some man to come along an-" that did it. Wylow sprang up, and threw herself at Malfoy, ignoring the shrieks of the other students around her. Pretty Boy's face flashed ivory with fear, just before Wylow fist slammed into it. There was a wonderfully satisfying crunch as his nose broke and he squealed like a stuck pig. Suddenly, where Wylow's fist was gripping his robes, the material burst into flames. But her hand wasn't hurting, thought the flames were spreading up her arm. It was more like a warm caress then fire. Malfoy's eyes widened, and he screamed. Wylow pulled back, and stared at the fire spreading up her arm, over her shoulder... Enough, she thought softly. The fire went out, both on herself and Malfoy. The blond scrambled up, and stared at her.

"You are such a fucking freak Potter!"

"Yeah, I guess I am. But you know, some day I'll probably grow out of that, but you... well, you'll always be a fuckwit." Absently, she began to walk towards the Great Hall, still examining her hand.

Down at the other end of the corridor, her twin was gapping at what he had just seen. Dumbledore was looking after the vanishing Slytherin girl, a look of worry on his face.

"It's started."

*

Wylow flopped down in her chair at the Prefects table, fingering the Head Girls badge she had pinned through her ear as a joke. Well, it had seemed funny when she was in a good mood, but now... she felt closed in, trapped in her own mind. Weasley smiled at her, and she attempted to smile back.

"So, what's this I hear about you causing some serious damage to Malfoy's face? Will he end up looking like Snape? Please say yes." That almost made her laugh.

"Unfortunately, he'll be fine. Now, how long will we have to wait until we can eat and leave? I'm bored." Weasley shrugged, and continued talking to a sixth year Hufflepuff prefect. Sighing, Wylow looked over to the Slytherin table, and stared at the back of a girl with strange white grey (in fact strawberry blonde) hairs' head.

Her best girlfriend, Arielle Morlock turned around and looked at her. She grinned, the dimple in her right cheek standing out. Wylow smiled and waved back, signalling 'I'm bored. Kill me now.' In their 'secret hand speak'. Arielle rolled her eyes, and signalled 'maybe later' back. 'Can you get Hunter to turn around for me?' 'I can try. I'll poke him.' The girl turned, and poked Hunter in the back with her long, rather sharp nail. Hunter swung around, and saw Wylow looking at them. He did look like his much older brother. Any one could see that at the train station, when they had stood side by side. He grinned, and waved madly. He is DEFINITELY crazy, thought Wylow as she waved back. At that moment, Jacob Marlow turned around, his red hair swishing to brush the tops of his ears. Wylow smiled at her shy friend. Sometimes, when they were alone, he was different, but in public he was as shy as a Puffskien. Jacob winked, and smiled back, balling his hand into a fist and rubbing it in circles on his chest in their sign that meant 'I miss you', or in the sense he was using 'I have missed you.' She smiled again, and returned the sign. She jumped as she heard the croaky voice of the Sorting Hat singing its newest song. As usual, she tuned out as soon as she heard it. She found the Sorting incessantly boring and tedious. She vaguely heard the applause as the Sorting Hat ended its song, and the first name was called out by Professor McGonagall. I wonder why Remus said that the Sorting Hat calls out a persons name; it doesn't. McGonagall calls out the names. Curious... I'll have to ask him about that. She sighed, and stared at the rings on her right hand as the first petrified first year crept up to the Sorting Hat. Every bloody year was the same! One down... Ooh, a Ravenclaw. He looked like a geek anyway... two down... ooh, buck toothed fool was put into Hufflepuff. What a surprise. Next up for grabs goes to... Gryffindor! Wonderful, wonderful, bring on the future Minister of Stupidity.

The Sorting went on, and the numbers of first years dwindled rapidly without a single one being put into Slytherin. Wylow sat, one eyebrow raised, now interested as new Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs popped up out of the wood work. Suddenly, a girl stepped forward, and raised an eyebrow pointedly at the Slytherin table. In her every fibre, she glittered with mischief and cunning. It wasn't that she was exceptionally special looking; she had ordinary brown (grey, dammit) hair, ordinary skin colour, and was of an average height. She just had a presence. Wylow smiled; this girl was showing her a little image of herself. She watched as the Sorting Hat was lowered onto her head. Within a few moments, a house was cried out.

"SLYTHERIN!" Wylow cheered, without intending to. Weasley burst out laughing, and clapped politely as 'Smith, Elizabeth' walked over to her new House table. Suddenly, en masse, the new students were becoming Slytherins. Wylow watched, mildly interested as Slytherin after Slytherin joined the ranks. By the end of it, there were less new Slytherins then in any other house, but they all had a different character to them, unlike the others who Wylow had already forgotten. Some Head Girl she made. She would have to make Weasley remember them all for her. Poor bloke, she thought, as Dumbledore stood up, and Malfoy quietly staggered back in, his hand covering his obviously black eye. She locked eyes with Weasley, and grinned wickedly. Turning, Wylow noticed as Jacob raised his eyebrows, and signalled. Your work on Malfoy, I suppose? How well he knew her. She smiled at him, and nodded. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

Morgan Wylow Le Fey- Potter leaned back in the chair her mother had sat in seventeen years ago, and gazed around with one eyebrow raised delicately, her face echoing the face of a small redhead with a fiery, ancient soul. At the staff table, the Potions Master gazed at her, swallowed the lump in his throat, and straightened his back.

*

"These rooms are huge! Weasley, you are never going to fill yours'!"

"I'll just have to rent some of it out to you then, won't I? After all, with all the junk you have, you won't have enough room to move in if you put it all in your room."

"Oooh, good come back Ronniekins. We'll have you bitching with the best in no time at all." Wylow grinned, and followed the steps that led up to the Head Girls bedroom. At one step, she paused. Carved into the wall, was a seal. It showed a moon with a wolfs head in it, with a snake wrapped around the whole thing, and a rose in its mouth. Surrounding this, were wings. The strangest thing was, this was the symbol that she had had tattooed onto her left forearm, that had been in her mind since she was a very small child. She traced her fingertips over it thoughtfully. It edges of the carving looked old, and slightly worn in places, as though people had been brushing their fingers over it almost every day for years. Absently, she pushed it out of her mind, and continued up the steps. There was a sound, like a sigh, and a tiny rush of wind as a voice echoed around her.

"Morgan..... Morgan.... Lilith.... Morgan...." She shivered, and stared around her. There was a flash in the corner of her eye; a human shaped flash. She spun around, but there was no one there. "Wylow..." Terrified, she fled up the stairs, banged her door shut, and spent the night hidden under her covers.

~

Harry stomped around the Gryffindor common room, growling to himself. Every so often, Hermione would raise her eyes from her book, watch him for a moment, then shake her head and return to 'The Life Span of the Centaur Tick', which was, in fact, a copy of 'Loves Tender Storm', as Harry had discovered while reading over her shoulder.

Harry tried to ignore the squashed feeling that he had. He couldn't believe how much he had taken being able to visit Wylow's rather twisted mind for granted. And then she hadn't even told him what she was doing. THAT pissed him off. And the sound of Hermione occasionally turning a page, and sighing happily was grating his already shredded nerves. Finally he could take it no more.

"For gods' sake Hermione, SHUT UP!" he flung out a hand and her book flew out of her hands and crashed into a painting, the occupant of which immediately began squealing. Hermione blinked, staring first at her hands, then the wall, and then the book that was crumpled on the floor. Harry's' ears began ringing as he stared at his hand. Now that was interesting, he thought, as he sank to his knees dizzily, the room spinning around him and Hermione's voice echoing shrilly in his head.

~

Wylow found herself back in the stair way to her bedroom. The odd thing about her dreams, was that they were all in colour. It was either a great thing, or a bad thing. She hadn't decided. She could hear laughter coming from below, and slowly she tiptoed downward, and peeped around the corner.

In the middle of the floor was a group of people, about eight of them, all looking to be seventeen to eighteen. Two of them caught her eye. One was a girl, her red hair falling about her face in tiny plaits, brilliant green eyes glittering and a pure white scar flashing through her left eye. All those things, Wylow realized, exactly like her own, except for the hair colour. Wylow's hair colour match the young man the redhead was leaning against. With a tiny jolt, she realized that she was looking at Lily Le Fey Evans and James Potter. Or, as they must be now, Lady Lily Le-Fey Potter and Lord James Potter. Stupid aristocratic parents, she thought absently as she ran her eyes over the people with them. One of them was, of course, Remus; you could tell at a glance. But... he had his arms around... oh my god, was that Falcon Carlisle? Hunter's older brother, whom she jokingly called Mr Carlisle because it irritated him?! It certainly looked like it. Hmm, that was something to remember. Another was recognisably, just recognisably, Sirius Black. Well hello sweetness... note to self, be nicer to Sirius when he gets back, and give him a bath and a hair cut. The others were a blonde girl who looked like a serial giggler, a rather handsome boy with carefully styled black hair and that bastard Pettigrew.

Her mother spoke, and Wylow heard a voice that sounded a little like her own with a slightly Irish like inflection on some words.

"So, we have a new symbol now. Just like you four."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Oh you do, do you? Show us then." Lily grinned wickedly, and shimmed around to pull down the back of her shirt. Decorating her left shoulder blade was... a wolf- moon, with a winged snake bearing a rose in its mouth. Wylow stared, and gripped her left fore arm. Her father stared at the tattoo.

"Bloody hell Lily, when did you have that done?!" The redhead grinned, and pulled her shirt back up.

"Oh, this weekend. You wouldn't believe how good a well placed colour charm is. And I wasn't the only one." The Marauders turned to stare at the others, who grinned sheepishly. The black haired boy (who wasn't James Potter) raised an arrogant eyebrow.

"Oh for goodness sake, don't be such snobs. Lili thought it was a good idea, and personally I agree with her."

Sirius glared half heartedly at him. "Shut up Severus, no one cares." Remus shook his head, and grinned. Falcon looked up at him.

"Ohh, and that's not all! Wait until you see our marker!"

Lily rolled her eyes at her brunette friend. "Oh well done Bird- Brain, you've spoilt the surprise."

"There's a surprise?"

"Indeed. Go up my stair case, and look along the walls." Just as the Marauders either wriggled away from their partners and got up, or simply got up, the world around Wylow faded out. Darkness closed in.

Slowly, as early morning sunlight hit her eyes, Wylow was dragged back into the conscious realm. She groaned pitifully, and opened her eyes to see a room in different shades of grey to her. Probably green and silver and other colours to most other people, but not to her, oh no. She sighed, and rolled out of bed, squeaking when her foot hit the cold floor. This was not a good start to her first day back, she thought blearily as she grabbed a towel that had been left out by a helpful House elf and staggered into her en suite. As hot water pounded down on her skull, which felt hollow, she groaned and leaned her head against the tiles that ran along the wall. She was tired of a colourless world, but there was really nothing she could do about it. There was a tiny double tap on the door, and Arielle walked in, heedless of that fact that Wylow was wearing nothing. It wasn't the first time she had seen her friend naked, thanks to a certain party where Wylow had drunk too much, thrown up all over herself and passed out. Wylow blearily opened one eye, and smiled.

"Hey Ari'." Arielle smiled, and then narrowed her eyes.

"Oh my god, Miss Morgan Wylow Potter; when did you decide to cover your body in tattoos?!"

"Ari', calm down; there are only five." Wylow thoughtfully touched the one on her collar bone and the one on her fore arm. Arielle sighed, and shook her head.

"And you didn't even ask me if I wanted one. That is so selfish." At this Wylow laughed, and stepped out of the shower, picking up her towel and wrapping it around her body. "Sorry Ari, I just didn't think. Tell you what, I'll get one more and you can have one at the same time, huh? Sneak into Hogsmeade?"

"And take the lads with us? You know that they'll want them, don't you?"

"Yes, yes I do." She smiled, and shook her now much clearer head; she knew now, that back with her friends, her gang, she was home. Let the fun begin Hogwarts; give me all you've got.

*

In the Great Hall, the hustle and bustle of the first day hadn't started properly yet; it was too early. Wylow and her friends always got up early at school; it meant that if they hadn't done their homework, they had plenty of time to do it in. Supposedly. It didn't always work that way though, as they often ended up talking all morning until classes began. Wylow often had to get herself 'excused' with stomach ache (thank you Skiving Snack Boxes!) so as to get out of having to worry about not handing in two foot of parchment. Wylow grinned as her two best male friends ambled through the doors, smiling blandly. When she was with these three, she felt all powerful. Nothing could stop her, nothing at all. Not an angry brother, not a freaky Head Master, nothing. Not even strange imaginings of people calling her name. She smiled and poured herself some coffee as they sat at their House table, Arielle and Hunter chatting amiably and Jacob watching them peacefully. Life couldn't be sweeter.

Or not, as the case may very well be. Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were walking toward them, the two thugs trying to look murderous, though really they just looked like they had lockjaw and Malfoy with a steely glint in his rather swollen face. Oh crap it all, she did not want to start her day like this.