He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.
The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened…
"Harry Potter? I heard the French version calls wands baguettes."
Alura looks up to the speaker, a lost-looking woman with long, brown hair and light, mist-green eyes. Briefly, Alura thinks of her twin, her heart burning in phantom pain as she takes in the womans even posture, her shoulders firm and high despite the nervous air she exudes. Alura places her bookmark in between the crisp pages of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, shutting the hardcover gently, even as her inner reader urges her to continue, wanting to know what comes next.
"I am borrowing my sister's copy of the series. Have you read them all?"
"…yeah," the woman pauses, swallowing, "Sorry. I'm disturbing you."
"Yes, you are," Alura agrees. The woman visibly stops herself from flinching, before motioning to the seat opposite her. Alura motions in acquiesce, placing her book on the café table and sipping her tea.
"I'm Lucy."
"Hello, Lucy," Alura nods, "I am Alura. What are you doing in France?"
"I'm off active duty for the first time in…forever," Lucy rests her hands on the table, stretching out slightly, looking at her nails in a strange avoidance of Alura's face. "My sister said I should take a holiday, so I'm here with my former roommate and her family – they're from here, apparently. They're so fluent I can't understand what they're saying and I know six languages."
"A feat," Alura says softly, thoughtful. A soldier, yet a scholar, unless they are family languages. "Perhaps you should think of practicing more."
Lucy chuckles, weighing her head lightly to the left before sitting back. "Sorry. Again. I'll be frank with you – I came over here because…" Lucy trails off, staring at her. Alura would wait for her to continue, had she not recognised that look.
Oh, oh no.
"Did you come over here, because, perchance, you now see colour?"
Lucy nods once, holding onto the edge of the table stiffly. Alura sips her tea, keeping her eyes locked with Lucy's as she tries to formulate a story – any story that doesn't involve saying I'm an alien.
"Colour-blind." Alura eventually gets out, forcing herself not to choke on her words, lies. "My doctors- I'm colour-blind. I don't, I can't- I am physically unable to reply properly to you."
Lucy's face does dim visibly, but a hesitant smile soon grows, "So you believe me?"
"Yes, I believe you," Alura says this because she does and not because she wants Lucy to feel better. Alura believes her. Humans, she has found, do not say things like 'you could make me see colour' as pick-up lines, unlike other phrases. Not only is it the most disrespectful of flirtations in any language across the globe, it can even, legally, be used as an example for harassment claims.
"Good," Lucy murmurs, before smiling widely. "Good."
Alura feels the corners of her lips rise unbidden, in agreement. "Yes. Good."
They exchange contact details shortly, as Lucy was on her way to meet her fellow vacationers and as Lucy gets up to leave, she ducks down to press a short kiss to the corner of Alura's lip. Frozen, Alura can only watch Lucy as she leaves, reaching up to her face at the almost foreign sensation that tingles and remains even after Lucy disappears into the crowd.
'Hey, soulmate' is the first text she gets, later. Alura stares at it for a while before replying with a simple 'Hello, Lucy.'
The reality that she has a soulmate doesn't hit home for several days. Meanwhile, Alura texts Lucy and Lucy texts Alura. They have back and forths and Alura learns during one several-hour-long conversation that Lucy is a lawyer, too, but for the American Armed Forces. They paid her tuition, which is a good price, considering American college fees.
'So, you've lived in France for over seven years while getting your degree and your job? I've never lived anywhere that long.'
Alura raises an eyebrow, fingers rapidly typing out a reply. 'Why is that?'
'Army brat. Dad's a high ranking officer. I'm a Major but he's a General. We moved around a LOT when I was a kid and when I was a teenager, too.'
To her own surprise, she can't reply to that one for quite some time. Everything about Lucy is strange yet then these things about her come out that remind Alura of herself or worse – as they do now – Astra. Astra, who was a General. Astra, who had Lucy's straight-backed posture. Astra, who was just as upfront and blunt as Lucy is now.
Astra, who was her twin, her other half. My other half! Lucy- oh, Lucy, Lucy Lane who is supposed to be her soulmate – the other half of her soul?
Alura bundles her hands in her hair, holding her head tightly as she curls up in her bed, phone dropped onto the bedcovers, vibrating as another text comes through. Alura is plagued by Astra's ghost and Lucy-
"I want to treat you right, I want to treat you right, Lucy," she says to the phone, almost crying, "But my sister is my other half, my sister."
Alura looks at her phone later, to Lucy's last sent text. 'I've got to go now. The plane is about to take off. I'll email you when I get back to my apartment. :)'
As if the universe is laughing at her, Kara phones her landline soon afterwards. Alura says hello and then the vast majority of the beginning of the phone-call is Kara talking about her new gallery opening and the reception of her newest sculpture line, already bought and waiting for the end of the gallery, little red dots on the ledger. It's only when Kara asks how Alura is doing that the game is up.
"Mom? Your voice, it's…mom, are you okay? You sound upset."
"I'm not upset," Alura shuts her eyes, leaning back against her fridge. "I was…no. Yes, you're right, I was upset."
"Oh, mom, what happened?"
"I met my soulmate," Alura chuckles bitterly, listening to Kara's confused oh.
"What happened? Were they rude?"
"No, she was perfect, Kara, amazing – she just reminds me so much of your aunt."
Kara goes oh, again. A short silence passes.
"She's brilliant, though, in her own way," Alura continues, a little happier as she thinks of all Lucy's unique attributes. "She's a hard worker and she's brave, she's so brave and clever, too! She's read all of Harry Potter and she doesn't spoil it for me, unlike some people-"
"Hey, don't hold it against me! I thought you would have seen the movies by now!"
Alura snorts, "Bah, movies. They are cheats, Kara, cheats. Books are the soul of a person. Movies are just people moving about in front of a camera."
"Okay, enough of your philosophy, tell me more about your soulmate!"
"She's got brown hair, green eyes and she's small," Alura rolls her eyes as she hears Kara gush to Cat about Alura finding a 'small to her tall'. "Her name is Lucy and she is twenty-eight and a half human years."
"Cradle-robber."
"Shut up," Alura rolls her eyes again, "Might I remind you that had you arrived at the same time I had, it would be your own wife who would be a 'cradle-robber'."
"No, because I was born around the same time as her, unlike you and this 'Lucy'."
"Shush," Alura shakes her head. "In any case, she is twenty-eight and a half and will be turning twenty-nine in late October. We have exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, but to save both of us money, we will primarily be using email and Skype, if Lucy learns how to use it. She has been abroad in Afghanistan for several years, with little down-time."
"Afghanistan? She's a soldier?"
"Yes, a Major."
There is a pause on the other end of the line and Alura hears Cat speak, "This is starting to sound familiar. Alura?" Cat takes the phone. "Alura, did you say this Lucy is a Major? Is she an American?"
"Yes. Why? Do you know her?"
"More correctly, I know her sister, I believe. What's her full name?"
Alura…cannot answer for a moment. "No…" Their introduction had not included last names- "oh, wait, no, perhaps. One moment, I believe her second name is in her email." Alura walks back to her bedroom, picking up her notepad from where it sits on her bedside table, looking at Lucy's contact details. "'LucyValiantOfMyCloset'. She said the latter part was both a pun, regarding her sexuality and a literary parallel, of a sort."
Cat sighs. "Valiant isn't her last name. It's a reference to Lucy Pevensie, or as she's better well known in Narnia, Queen Lucy the Valiant. It's definitely baby lane. Lois once mentioned that the Chronicles of Narnia and CS Lewis' treatment of Susan was the only thing they agreed upon."
"Baby lane?" Alura frowns, putting her notebook down and picking up a pen, scrawling down a quick 'Chronicles of Narnia, C S Lewis'.
"Lucy Lane, my nemesis' baby sister. I've never met her, but I've heard Lois brag about her enough to get a measure of her. For half-sisters with a rather toxic relationship practically encouraged by their idiot of a father, they're surprisingly close."
"Indeed," Alura says distractedly, thinking of Cat's stories of her so-called 'nemesis'. "Lucy is not like how you describe Lois. She is not…larger than life."
"Lucy followed her father's dream for her. Lois broke the mould and turned their family topside, but over a slow period of time. Lucy is younger than her sister by a few years – I wouldn't be surprised if she holds some scars from Lois' rebellion."
"I do not believe she is pliable," Alura says quietly, frowning.
"What I'm saying to you now is conjecture. I'm an good judge of character, but I never met the girl and I hope, since she last lived in Metropolis, that she's grown up to be an amazing woman. I hope this goes well for you, Alura, for you both."
"Thank-you, shining moon," Alura shuts her eyes again, listening calmly as Cat lets out a short laugh before handing the phone back to Kara.
"I should have never told you about our sappy poems."
"'Cat is the moon and you are the sun. You shine to reflect the best of you both'," Alura paraphrases, smiling. "Poeticism is nothing to mock and it is not 'sappy'. It's beautiful."
"Still. Cat's still laughing. She's buried her head in a cushion now. Noel's looking at her oddly."
"Why is Noel there?" Alura questions instead, shaking her head at Cat's behaviour.
"Lil and Lara wanted private time. Lena's out of town and because Kal-El moved out, so his bedroom was free."
"Doesn't Noel usually stay in the guest bedroom?" Alura wanders from her bedroom, going back to the kitchen, looking out of the window onto the busy street below. "And why are we not calling him Rhu-El?"
"He had a giant meltdown over it. It's a long time coming, according to Lena. We call him Noel now because, according to Noel, Prince Rhu-El of Daxam is dead. Prince Mon-El put him in an escape pod and the escape pod didn't survive entry into Earth's atmosphere after years of plotting through random space. Noel Van-Elliot is from an orphanage, his Daxammite mother abandoning him and he was adopted by Lillian and Lara."
"A great story-teller," Alura praises.
"Yeah, well, anyway, Noel likes Kal-El's Star Wars memorabilia, so he's staying in Kal-El's room over the weekend."
"Do you know if Kal-El got his birthday present from me?" Alura questions suddenly, as she remembers. "It was a BB-Eight droid."
"Oh, he definitely got it. He's still bragging about it – he cosplays as Finn and gosh, the resemblance is startling. You'd think he was Josh Bondoga." A muffled voice sounds over the line. "Fudge, I've gotta go, mom. Noel's…got his foot stuck in the Death Star. Last note though – I still can't believe you've watched Star Wars but you haven't watched Harry Potter. Bye!"
"Goodbye," Alura gets in, before Kara abruptly hangs up. Shaking her head, Alura puts the phone back on the hook before putting the kettle on.
Emailing Lucy is different from texting. Over the following few months, they write and Alura and Lucy both receive birthday gifts from each other when the relative dates pass. Lucy's picture – emailed and then printed on glossy, photographic paper – joins the dozens of others stuck to Alura's fridge, a panel of faces that Alura has been filling and collecting ever since she moved to Paris.
Then Alura makes a mistake. She makes a big, big mistake.
"-the printer was having problems and all the pictures were tinged blue. It was awful," Alura shakes her head as she tells the story over Skype while cooking simultaneously. "But I got my next door neighbour in and we figured out that the cartridges were leaking."
"Sounds bad," Lucy replies, but Alura hears the change in her voice and looks to see her soulmate frowning on the screen. "How did you know it was blue?"
Alura blinks at the question. "It was blue."
"Right. Right," Lucy runs a hand through her hair, arm tense as she purses her lips, all immediate warning signs to Alura, because Lucy is still. Lucy has control that has been methodically drilled into her and she does not give into things such as the need to run her hand through her hair. "You saw colour. Right. Which would make perfect sense if you weren't colour-blind."
There is a long pause and then Alura lets out a Kryptonian expletive for the first time in fifty-eight years.
"I can explain-"
"No." Lucy says blankly, before clearly slamming her laptop shut, the Skype call ending. Alura puts down her spatula, leaving her risotto on the heat as she flies to her landline, cursing as she can't remember Lucy's number and throws the phone at the wall, causing it to smash.
"No, no, no," Alura lets out another Kryptonian expletive, rushing to find the spare landline phone, but it's completely dead. Her next stop is her handbag, but in her haste, she once again breaks the phone she's trying to retrieve – this time being her mobile phone. "No, no, no."
Without thinking more on it, Alura goes to her open window, climbing out and jumping out, shakily flying up, only dropping once or twice before getting the hang of it, not having flown in years. It's not until she's high in the sky, heading for America at a terrifyingly fast speed, that Alura realises what she's doing.
I can't just show up on her doorstep, Alura thinks, balking at the thought of Lucy's terrified face. Lucy thinks I'm in France. But she's already in Metropolis and nearly bangs into a building as she lowers herself to the ground, crumbling the concrete of the alley-way she somehow manoeuvres herself into. Hands going to her head, Alura leans against the nearest wall, ignoring the stale smell of unpleasant things that don't smell like Metropolis as she curses at herself and her behaviour.
Why am I being like this? Alura questions, practically tearing her hair out. Running her hands through her long red strands – red like Krypton, red like Astra, Astra, Astra – Alura lets out a pent-up scream that echoes through the alley-way and out into the street and in her ears, it hurts! Alura clamps her hands around her ears, crying at the reverberating sounds. Everything in the city then catches up to her – all the engines, the voices, the footsteps and machinery. Every wind-current and song, every click of heels on sidewalk and cough into a scarf.
"Are you alright? Madam?" A pressure against her foot. Alura pushes against her ears and tangles her hair up in her fingers more, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no-"
"Can you tell me your name?" The man asks – it's a man, he's asking for your name, why is his accent not American, aren't I in America? – but Alura shakes her head. She can't offer her name, she can't give him her name - and which name? Alura In-Ze? Alura Zor-El? Judge In-Ze of Krypton? What do I say? Do I even speak?
"No, no, no, no," Alura answers her own question before shutting her mouth. She just wants Lucy. Lucy and Kara and Zor-El and Lara and her people-
"Madam, I am going to call an ambulance. My name is Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. You are safe with me, I promise. You are safe with me."