Hey, yes this is a new story. Sorry about the prolonged hiatus on the other stories, but real life has made fanfiction take a set-back and I really haven't had time to write. But now I do, and I have already started the next chapter for Squirrel Mother and An Eevee's Wish and I'm planning on what my next chapter for MEI is going to be. So, please be patient with me, I have school work and assignments and other issues that prevent me from writing, but I promise you, I will be writing and posting when I can.
As for this story, yes I know it has been done before. But I am not stealing their story. I have permission from the author to use this idea, so no nasty reviews saying I stole someone else's idea. Credit for the Veil idea goes to lirio de amor. And on with the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
All was quiet in the Ministry of Magic. It was Halloween night, four years after Voldemort's defeat. The outside world was alive with celebration, people and families enjoying their Halloween Eve. Yet, deep within the Department of Mysteries, the wheels of fate were turning. Standing on its dais, the Veil, an object which was the barrier between the living and spiritual world, was showing an unusual amount of activity. The normal gentle current that flowed had turned into violent, gale force winds. To a bystander, it would have been like a violent thunder storm without the rain, lightning and thunder. The Veil whipped around violently, the bottom curling up on itself. In a fast and furious motion, the Veil was blown forward, almost horizontal, in a snap-like throwing motion, like a curtain with an open window in a violent storm.
Then, it settled down. The strong, violent current returned to being slow and gentle. There were no traces that such a huge uproar had ever occurred.
Except for three.
Just in front of the dais, lying on the hard ground, were three naked boys, all no older than four years old. Moaning, groaning and moving with such a lack of grace that it was if they were drunk, the boys each tried to assess where they were and what had happened. As one of the boys sat up and shook his head, as if trying to physically dispel the fuzziness of his mind, he caught sight of one of the other boys, and his posture immediately turned into one of aggression. The one being stared at soon noticed and his stance soon mirrored that of the other boys. The two quickly stood up and glared fiercely at each other before spitting out a word each.
"Snape!"
"Black!"
A cry of rage sounded from one boy, no one could be sure which, and both children launched at each other, and the smallest boy had quickly scramble out of the way to avoid being trampled. The third child watched helplessly as the other two rolled around the floor, wrestling, before turning to look at the peaceful Veil behind him, confused and scared.
None of them noticed when a late-working Unspeakable walked into the chamber to see what all the noise was about.
It was well past midnight when the floo sounded. As expected, when Kingsley Shacklebolt surveyed the area, not a living being was in sight. He sighed and shook his head, hoping it wouldn't be too hard to wake her up. He had heard stories when the Order was active about her ability to sleep through noise, but he was hoping it was just an exaggeration.
"Esmerelda! Esmerelda!" There was no reply to his calls. He sighed once more before proceeding through the floo and into her living. He gave a glance of disapproval that she hadn't warded it, but, then again, the last time someone tried to use that fact to attack her, the guy ended up handed over to the aurors as a bloody mess. Kingsley shook his head once more before proceeding down the small hallway. One more thing he never understood was why Esmerelda, who had enough money to live in an extravagant mansion, insisted on living in a small, two-bedroom apartment. When questioned, she always just mumbled something about too much space and not enough people and settled into a depressed sort of quiet. Deciding to stop that train of thought for the moment, he knocked on the Potter heirs' bedroom door.
"Esmerelda! Wake up!" Once again, there was no reply. Sighing in grim determination, he turned the door knob and opened the door. The bedroom was small, like everything else in the household, but it held the person he was looking for. And said person was dead to the world. He strode over and gave the sleeping girl a good long stare, before attempting to wake her.
"Esmerelda." No response. "Esmerelda." Again, no response. "Potter! Wake up!" And, yep, you guessed it, no response. Kingsley sighed impatiently before gripping the young women's shoulder with a firm hand, preparing to shake the girl awake.
However, he didn't get the chance, as he had to quickly duck to avoid an object attempting to imbed itself in his skull, resulting in it hitting the wall. He glanced at the impressive and startling dent in the wall before turning to the now-wide-awake women, who, he noticed, was holding a metal baseball bat in her hands. He glared at her and she gave a sheepish smile, placing the potentially deadly object on the other side of the bed but still within reaching distance. She then turned to him with a smile.
"Minister Shacklebolt." She acknowledged. "What brings you here?" She cocked her head to the side in curiosity.
"We need you at the ministry. It's an emergency." The young women nodded, her face thoughtful.
"Okay, give me five minutes to get changed. I'll meet you by my fireplace." He nodded and departed. Settling himself on one of the couches, he resigned himself to waiting an hour for the women to get ready. That train of thought caused him to get quite the shock when Esmerelda did, in fact, turn up soon after he sat down.
"What's going on, Kingsley?" She said, tying her long, black hair in a plait which then hung over her left shoulder. Her bright green eyes held both curiosity and concern. The first name basis reminded Kingsley of when he had protected this same girl when Voldemort was at large. It brought a smile to his face.
"I'll explain when we get to the ministry. We need to get there as soon as we can." With that, he took some floo powder from the nearby flowerpot and cast it into the fireplace, calling out the ministry of magic as he did so, before walking into the flames and disappearing. Esmerelda sighed and followed him, deciding that she'd deal with whatever-it-was when she got there.
One step at a time, Emma. One step at a time. She thought before casting her own floo powder and shouting the ministry of magic.
Esmerelda stumbled through the floo and into the waiting room. Kingsley was already there, waiting for her. He motioned to go down the nearest corridor but she held up a hand to stop him. Her nose was tickling; she knew what was coming next. In a flurry of motion, she let loose at least a dozen sneezes in quick succession, before hacking from the lack of oxygen in her lungs, bringing her to the floor, sounding like a dying animal. Eventually, she quieted down and managed to regain her footing.
"...I'm good..." She said, though it sounded rather nasal after her attack. Kingsley nodded and led the way through the ministry, Esmerelda following.
"Miss Potter," She inclined her head to show she heard the Minister. "...What was with the muggle weapon?" Esmerelda gave him a wide, and slightly creepy, grin.
"Now you know what happened to that guy I handed to your aurors." She walked ahead, almost skipping, and all Kingsley could do was stare at her back, slightly scared and try to keep up. Esmerelda soon slowed down and fell in behind Kingsley, turning to him with a curious glance.
"So, what's the emergency?" She asked as they turned into the section of the ministry that held the interrogation rooms. She could see one door open with a light. Kingsley beckoned her towards the open door and pointed inside. Esmerelda looked inside and was, at first, confused at the sight. The interrogation room itself had been transformed into a small and impromptu, but comfy-looking, sitting room. Inside were one, female unspeakable that Esmerelda didn't know, and three young boys. Something was familiar about them but she couldn't place what. Though all looked about the same age, each looked different.
The first two boys were about the same height and even looked something similar. They both had black hair, but one's was wavy, even though it was short. He also had deep silver eyes, whilst the other had onyx black. The smallest boy had short, tawny hair with beautiful, but wary, amber eyes. Though all were sitting down, he had his knees up to his chest and looked scared, whilst the other two held their heads high and had a proud aura around them. The clothes they were wearing looked like they had been shrunk down to fit them.
Esmerelda continued to stare at them; unable to place the familiar feeling she felt when she saw them. Then, the black-eyed boy turned to sneer at the unspeakable and it clicked. Esmerelda shook her head, trying to see whether it was a dream, but when she opened her eyes, the same connections were there. The black-eyed boy's sneer, the silver-eyed boy's hair and the smallest boy's eyes. They matched with three people she had known very well. She continued staring at them, unaware that her mouth hung open.
Some God up there truly does hate me.
And done. Please read and review. I need some encouragement. Thanks for reading,
NightWhisper.