Black Aeon

Chapter 14

Show me how defenceless you really are

The Potter twins were let out of the hospital wing at much the same time. Once again, Wylow reclaimed her Head Girls badge from a reluctant Hermione, giving the obligatory sarcastic remark as she slid back into the role of Slytherin Princess without a word of complaint from her housemates.

Time passed. Slowly, the hole that Hunter had left in the Slytherin seventh years began to seal up, leaving a tender scar instead of a weeping wound. With Wylow reinstalled as Head Girl, she and Weasley actually began to crack down on the rule breakers, as spring began to run into the middle of its course. She was beginning to return to normal, even though occasionally a dark feeling of depression swept over her, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted.

*

Tiredly, she pulled her lengthening hair back into a ponytail as best as she could, though strands fell into her eyes and over her cheekbones, and tried to slice dandelion roots into neat, even pieces for her potion. The knife shook slightly and she forced herself to steady her hand.

"Miss Potter? Is everything alright?"

She looked up to see the Potions master looking at her with what could only be called fatherly concern on his face. He flicked a lock of black hair out of his eyes in irritation, before continuing his steady gaze into her eyes. It should have been rather creepy.

"Yes Professor. Everything is in order; I'm just a little tired."

Her teacher raised his eyebrows, and pursed his lips. "Please see me after class Miss Potter."

"Yes Professor."

He nodded at her, and swept away like an over grown, posing bat. Wylow blinked a few times, and returned to her dandelion roots, making rhythmic, even cuts, before brushing them gently into her cauldron. Among the entire class, she was the only one sitting by herself, making her potion alone. She ignored the sideways glances that she was getting from different members of the class.

Having sat next to Hunter in every potions lesson since third year, she had learnt how to make a pretty decent potion. It wasn't the perfect concoction that he would have produced, but it did what it was supposed to do; it burned through a piece of wood like acid. As the other students filtered out of the room, book bags slung over their shoulders and chattered floating back down the corridor, Wylow slowly packed away her potions equipment and cleaned her cauldron. Snape watched her silently, standing perfectly straight in front of his desk. When she was finished, she turned to face him, feeling heavy and tired. Her Potions teacher looked at her thoughtfully, not speaking. He really did look different with his nose straight. And his hair clean. He coughed slightly before he spoke, which was unusual for him. "Did you know that your mother and I knew each other at school?"

"Yes."

The bluntness, and the answer itself, made Snape widen his eyes slightly. For him, this was the equivalent of a shout. "And how pray tell do you know that?"

"Professor Thyme told me. She showed me a picture of herself, my mum, Falcon and you." She smiled slightly. "You looked nice with that haircut."

Snape shifted slightly, and coughed, not quite meeting her eyes. Was he embarrassed? "Indeed, thank you. Well, the fact is, I stood for your mother at your parents wedding as her best friend, and made a promise that I would... care for her when times were hard. As you know, she is... no longer with us, so that promise is transferred to you, her daughter." Wylow thought this through. So Snape wanted to protect her, and care for her. That was extremely odd.

"Why me? Why not Harry?"

The Potions master sneered. "I stood for your mother. A woman. My promise is passed on to a female of her descent, not a male. Blacks' promise is transferred to Potter, not mine." That did make some sort of sense.

"So..." she gnawed her lip, and leaned back against her desk. This was quite a bit for her to digest. Snape was offering to be her friend, and her guide, because of a promise he had made to her mother about eighteen years ago. "You're offering to be my councillor?" This was obviously the wrong thing to say.

Snape drew himself up to his full height, and glowered at her. It was actually quite frightening, and Wylow felt herself shrink back internally.

"Had I known that my offer of aid would be treated as such, I would have thought twice before giving it. Once you decide that you wish to behave like an adult and take this at face value rather than mock me, I will speak to you again. Until then, good day." He pointed eloquently at the door. Moody old sod, Wylow thought as she picked up her bag and her books and made her way to the door. A thought came to her, and she decided to take the risk, turning back to face Snape at the last moment.

"Sir?"

He looked around, haughtily.

"Yes Miss Potter?"

She smiled at him, cheekily. "When you look at me like that, your eyes look like raisins." Then she quickly made her escape, followed a moment later by the Professors' laughter.

~

Harry caught the snitch just as he tumbled off of his broom and onto the grass, winding himself. Gasping for air, he stared up at the evening sky as Ginny landed beside him.

"Harry? Are you alright?" she said with concern. Weakly, he nodded and made himself sit up.

"Yeah... I'm fine.... Or I will be... in a minute..." They stayed put for a moment in silence, as Harry regained his breathe and the rest of the Gryffindor team zipped around over head, tossing the Quaffle at lightning speed, blocking the goals and slamming the Bludgers into different directions. When Harry felt better, he stood up and let the snitch go, watching as it fluttered in the air before him for an instant before it vanished from sight. With a cheerful wink at Ginny, he mounted his broom and zoomed off after it, letting her get back to her Chaser practice.

The wind roared past his ears as he sped through the air, his Firebolt obeying his every whim as he followed the path of the elusive golden snitch. Here in the sky, he felt perfectly free and happy, none of the worries of the ground following him as he flew. A glimmer in the corner of his eye made him turn and sure enough there was the snitch, hovering beneath Ron's feet as he waited for the Quaffle to be tossed towards the goal posts so he could block it. As Harry bulleted toward him he noticed that his red headed friends' hands were badly positioned on the shaft of his broom, and he shouted the fact at him as he chased the snitch. Ron adjusted his grip and signalled his thanks. As he caught up with the snitch, Harry revelled in the fact that he was able to have this short time of normality, away from the havoc of his normal scar- burdened life. It was peace, and it was good. He smiled to himself as his hand once again closed around the fluttering wings of the snitch.

*

The team walked through the corridor, still in their Quidditch kit, laughing and jostling each other. As they walked past the library, Harry's eyes drifted absently to look through the door. Inside was 'Ganies friend, Arielle. She was reading a thick tome, a strand of her hair caught between her lips as her eyes flickered back and forth over the page. She looked tired, and decidedly thinner than she had previously done. Harry stopped walking, and told the others that he'd catch up with them later. With much grumbling they agreed and left.

With a weird fluttering feeling in his stomach (that was not entirely unpleasant), Harry attempted to smooth down his tufts of black hair, tugged his earring habitually for luck, and walked over to the table where the strawberry blonde sat sucking her hair and reading. As he approached, his kit boots making a sharp tap on the stone floor, the girl looked up, and smiled. "Hello Potter."

He smiled back. "Please, call me Harry, all my friends do." He pulled out a chair, and made an attempt and sitting down gracefully, unaware that he was doing a rather mediocre imitation of Malfoy. Arielle removed the hair from her mouth and let the lock hang down beside her head. The tip was darker than the rest, having been in her mouth for quite a while. She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table in front of her, a flirtatious look in her eyes that made Harry's mouth feel a little dry.

"And who says that I'm your friend Potter, hmm?"

He leaned forward as well, raising an eyebrow. "I do... Arielle." He purred her name softly, and noticed to his glee that she blushed slightly. She raised her eyes to his, shyness suddenly creeping into them. He realised to his great surprise that Arielle was actually genuinely shy, only acting as confidant as his sister. He smiled at her reassuringly. She returned the smile, and gnawed her lips slightly. "So... What made you interrupt my reading? Wylow's fine, so you don't need to ask about her." She raised her eyebrows. "Do you need help with your Herbology? Because you could just ask Longbottom, after all he is in your House, and you wouldn't have to be embarrassed about being seen with him."

"No, that's not what I wanted."
"Then what?" Arielle looked at him expectantly.

Harry smiled at her, and leaned further forward. "Would you consider going to Hogsmeade with me?" The Slytherin girl blinked, her mouth slightly open in shock. She looked very sweet like that. Harry waited for her answer.

"...Why?" She looked suspicious. That was not the answer he had wanted.

"Because I want to go to Hogsmeade with you, you're incredibly pretty and if you don't stop looking at me like that I'm afraid that I'm going to have to kiss you." He couldn't believe that had just come out of his mouth. It sounded so... confidant, self assured and rather arrogant. He sounded like his Father.

Arielle didn't seem to mind. A slow, wicked smile lit the corners of her mouth. "Don't worry... Harry, I don't bite." She stood up, and leaned over the table, hooking her fingers into the collar of his Quidditch top. "Well, at least, not until I'm asked to." She licked her lips slightly, and the butterflies in Harry's stomach threatened to explode out into daylight.

"I wouldn't complain if you... bit." He looked at her, challenging her. She arose to the challenge, kissing his mouth softly and sweetly, teasing his lower lip with her tongue before pulling back and smiling. "I'll see you at Hogsmeade then Harry." She picked up her books and, with a glance over her shoulder, left the library, leaving Harry to sit at the table alone staring into space, a foolish grin fixed to his mouth.

*

When he got back to his room from the showers, he found a note pinned to his pillow. Dear Jay, it read, you really need to keep better watch over your Towers password. It was ridiculously easy to find out. Anyway; remember how you said you thought you might get your eyebrow pierced? THE TIME HAS COME! I'm taking you to get it done on Saturday. Hope you don't object. Ganie.

With a sigh he dropped onto his bed, still holding the note, wondering how his sister would react to the fact that her best girl friend was soon going to be his girlfriend. If he got his way.

~

"... You're going to Hogsmeade with Harry."

Wylow stared at Arielle, who had a delicate pink blush tainting her cheeks, and looked remarkably pretty. "My brother Harry, who is in Gryffindor. The Boy Who Lived. The Gryffindor Seeker. My twin who had little to no luck with women?!" To her amusement, the delicate pink turned to an angry red.

"You could at least try to act pleased for me Wyl'! You know how hard it is for me to find someone who's interested in me, especially when you're around!"

"And what did you mean by that?" Wylow raised her eyebrows. Arielle lowered her eyelashes, looking ashamed. "Nothing, I didn't mean anything Wyl'."

"Yes you did, what is it?"

"It's just... They're always interested in you because you're smart, and confidant, and pretty and easily noticeable. It's like being a moth next to a butterfly; it's hard to get noticed." Her friend chewed her lip, looking appalled that she had voiced those things. Wylow put an arm around her, and gave her a sisterly squeeze. She hasn't known her friend felt like that.

"I don't mind you going to Hogsmeade with my brother Ari'. I was just surprised, because he is known to me as the Dateless Wonder. Also, I was going to take him to get his eyebrow pierced."

Arielle smiled at her. "I could take him?"

"Yeah, you could. Make sure he doesn't chicken out, ok?"

"Promise."

*

She tapped lightly on the office door and waited for a reply from within. A growl leaked through the door so she turned the handle and entered.

Professor Snape looked up. "Yes Miss Potter?" He was marking papers, and looked impatient and tired; his hair messed up from having had his fingers buried in it. He looked more like his thirty five years than usual, and Wylow warmed to this version of the Potions master. She walked over to his desk, and perched awkwardly on the corner, chewing the inside of her cheek. How was she supposed to phrase what she was trying to say?

"Um... Well... You see Professor..." she stumbled over her words. Snape raised an eyebrow, and a corner of his lip twitched.

"What, can it be? Lily's daughter is struggling to think of what to say? You must take after Potter more than I thought." Snape shook his head, and his hair settled back obediently into place. Wylow stared at it in envy. If only hers would do what, she would be so happy... stupid genetics...

"Miss Potter?" Snape's voice brought her back to the real world. She blinked, and shook her head very slightly. It was a habit of hers, when she had been thinking, to shake her head a little, as though to clear it.

"First of all, my name is Wylow-"

"I believe the name your mother gave you is Morgan." He looked at her levelly. Wylow blinked. "Yes, but... no one calls me Morgan."

"Why?"

"... I don't know..."

Snape tidied a pile of papers on his desk. "It is a good, strong name. Means 'from the sea', I believe. You're mother gave you that name for a reason; I shall call you by it, not by your middle name, which I told her from the beginning made you sound like a miniature tree hugging Muggle hippy." He nodded, as though closing the matter. Wylow blinked again. This was not what she was used to; usually people smiled and said "yes Wylow" rather than tell her that her name sounded like a Muggle hippie's name.

"Um... ok..." She took a deep breath. "I've been considering your offer Professor, and if it's perfectly alright with you, I'd be happy to accept." She waited for the rebuke. The Potions master looked at her with a straight face for a moment. The next, a slow, lazy grin was raising the corners of his lips, and Wylow saw the teenaged boy that her mother had been so found of, shining through the adults face.

"Well, in that case Morgan, I suppose you'll probably be calling me Sev' when it's just the two of us, wont you?"

*

The meeting had not yet been called to order. The Order sat in neat rows, talking quietly amongst themselves. To one side, stood three teenagers, dressed entirely in black, spell reflecting leather. They stood, watching the normal people of the Order of the Phoenix talking and getting up to date with one another. More specifically, Wylow watched as Granger, Weasley and her twin looked around with interest, Granger's cheeks flushed with anticipation and eagerness. Harry's newly pierced eyebrow looked bruised, and sore, but still cool.

Wylow had told Dumbledore that letting the three of them join the order was dangerous, but would he listen? Would he fuck. The old man was bloody senile, yet amazingly lucid.

Think of the devil, and he appeared on the podium, looking down on the Order.

"Ahem." As soon as he cleared his throat, the room went quiet. Every one waited in awed silence for the words their leader would say, the wisdom he would impart. The minds he would wipe and control, Wylow thought nastily.

Dumbledore smiled at them. "My dear friends, it is indeed good to see you all here with me on this evening.

"First, I would like to thank Harry, for opening the Chamber for us, so that we have a very secret, private meeting place. Thank you Harry, your abilities are much appreciated." Harry smiled slightly, and Ron jostled him playfully.

"And secondly, I would like ask for a moment of silence, in commemoration of our most recently lost warrior, Hunter Carlisle. He died well in battle, but will be sorely missed by all those who knew him." Bastard. Fucking bastard. I'm going to rip your fucking lungs out and shove them up your arse so you're inhaling shit you bastard.

The moment passed, and Dumbledore continued his spiel. "And thirdly, I want to welcome back an old friend. It's been a long time since we've seen him, but one has finally persuaded him that return is best." Wylow's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't possible was it? "Please welcome back Sirius Black." The chamber was silent as the figure of a man stepped out from the shadows, and the tired but happy face of Harry's godfather became visible.

Wylow's glance darted to Harry. Her brother was staring at the man, his eyes welling up slightly. Her twin had always shown his heart in his eyes, as long as you knew how to read him properly. She knew that the two of them would be catching up later, and it was something that she wasn't welcome to witness. It didn't bother her.

As Sirius took a seat, Dumbledore cleared his throat again. "And now, to business. There have been no Death Eater attacks of late, and our resident Seer has not Seen anything recently, am I correct Sybil?"

"I have seen many things; images, of death and destruction, but none of our own futures. Oh, poor dear boy..." Wylow barked out a laugh, halting Trelawney in her sobs. Dumbledore coughed into his fist. "Yes, indeed. Again, I say there have been no Death Eater attacks of late, and we have heard no news of any. This is not necessarily a good thing; they could well be lulling us into a false sense of security. I think-"

"Then why don't we just finish this?" Wylow's voice echoed around the chamber. Dumbledore's lips pursed. "Please, Miss Le- Fey, if you have something to say, feel free to speak." She ignored the sarcasm.

"Thank you I will. Why are we still waiting? This is getting ridiculous. For three years now, we have had Voldemort and his pet Death Eaters breathing down our necks, and we've only really retaliated when he gave us cause to, aside from Dumbledore sending four teenagers and a small group of Aurors on suicide missions, which recently got one of his Specialist Squad killed. Why the hell are we still sitting around waiting for a sign? Let's finish this for Gods sake!" There were murmurs of agreement from the assembled group. Dumbledore looked at her with a kind smile that clearly told her to keep her mouth shut and her opinions to herself. Screw him.

"While I would like to comply to your demands my dear, I fear it is not possible. For one thing, Harry is not ready yet." Her brother flushed bright pink. Wylow waved a hand at him to tell him to keep his mouth shut.

"Are you kidding me? Not ready? This is the boy who faced Voldemort for the second time when he was eleven and won! And again at twelve, and won again, after fighting with a Basilisk! The boy who damn well competed in the Triwizard Tournament with seventeen year olds when he was fourteen, damn well drew with Diggory, and then face a reincarnated Voldemort, a whole gang of Death Eaters, a giant snake, and still managed to get back to Hogwarts with Diggory's body so his parents could give him a decent burial! And you say he isn't ready?! Give me two weeks with him, and he'll be ready for anything." She remembered to breathe, and stared Dumbledore down defiantly.

The old man smiled condescendingly at her. "Be that as it may Miss Le- Fey; we are not yet going to seek out Voldemort and fight him."

With a snort of disgust, Wylow spat on the floor and walked out, her friends following behind her as they made for the makeshift stairs.