A/N: Hey, so this is my first ever fanfic and I hope that everyone enjoys it. Please review and let me know how I'm doing. J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter and the Archard family belongs to me. Spells and French phrases will be italicized, and I will do my best to always write the French translations either in the sentence or at the bottom of the page.
Prologue
3rd Person POV
The sun was beginning to set over the small hillside, draping the nearby mansion in the soft evening light. A lone male figure could be seen standing near the rail of the second story balcony, gazing out over the small gardens, and beyond the field to the forest-line. The soothing tones of a lullaby danced along with the small breeze, breaking the silence that had been brought with the descent of day into night. Everything was peaceful, except the man on the balcony could not help but feel uneasy, as though a terrible storm were stirring on this Halloween night.
As he began to move away from the rail, he raised his hand, which contained a thin piece of wood resembling a small twig, and whispered, "Cave inimicum,"sparking a shield to envelop the mansion, which became visibly hazy before fading unseen. Satisfied with his work, the man moved into the mansion, following the gentle sounds of the lullaby that led him to an illuminated doorway at the end of the hallway. He stopped at the door frame, gazing tenderly upon the room's occupants. Every time he watched her, the man could not completely believe his luck for finding his love.
As the song ended, the woman turned in her chair, a smile on her face upon seeing the man. In doing so, she revealed a young girl, no older than two, fast asleep on the small bed before her.
"Come to say goodnight, mon amour?" she asked gently, her musical voice dancing with happiness.
Despite his loving gaze, the man's face remained neutral as he answered her. "Just a brief visit, Diaspora, before I must leave for my trip. I've already reinforced the barrier, and remember if anything should happen—"
"For goodness sake, Ashton, we shall all be fine for a few days without you!" she interrupted, exasperated at having to revisit the same conversation over and over again. Despite the threats, she doubted that anyone had the gall to attack the Archard family.
He turned away slightly to hide the small blush that suddenly appeared on his cheeks. "I'm just worried about you and the children, that is all, especially with your condition."
Diaspora released a small huff of air. "I'm pregnant, not disabled, dear. I am still a capable witch, and these babies are not due for another four months, at least. If something, by chance, were to happen, we have the house elves to take care of us."
Ashton turned to face her and moved forward into the room to stand by the bed, facing his lovely wife. "Very well then, I shall see you in a few days at most. This meeting that Dumbledore has called should not take long." He leaned down to kiss his wife's forehead. Moving closer to the sleeping child, he whispered, "Good night, ma petit Esme," and leaned down to kiss the small girl on her brow.
He straightened and turned back to his wife, once again being filled with a sense of uneasiness. Ashton buried the worry within himself and leaned down to give a quick peck on Diaspora's mouth. He left, without a backwards glance, to say good night to his other four children, all of whom were already asleep in their respective beds. Though knowing my twin boys, they're probably sharing one bed again, he thought to himself, with amusement that could not be seen on his face.
Back in the room, Diaspora smiled lovingly down onto her youngest daughter and brushed her bangs away from her forehead. She moved closer to kiss her little girl and whispered, "I love you, my little butterfly. Dream sweet dreams of love and magic." Diaspora rose from her chair and left the room, shutting the door softly behind her. She moved carefully up the hallway and down the stairs to the sitting room, mindful of her steps because of her midsection's ever-growing size.
While walking, Diaspora began to feel a bit queasy. Almost as soon as she sat down on her favorite couch, a house elf appeared with a pop next to her, holding a tea set. He set the tray on the table in front of her and said in a cheerful voice, "Mistress, Tipper brings you ginger tea."
"Oh, that's exactly what I need right now! Thank you Tipper," Diaspora replied gratefully.
Tipper blushed and, while preparing tea for his wonderful Mistress, exclaimed, "Mistress too kind to Tipper! Tipper is happy to serve Mistress!" He handed Diaspora her tea as she sat back and relaxed, content to simply let her mind wander. Tipper popped away, leaving his Mistress to enjoy her quiet thoughts. At some point he came back briefly to inform his Mistress that Master Archard had departed for his trip, then left again. Diaspora soon finished her tea and set the cup and saucer back on the tray. As she settled onto the couch, she could not help but to fall asleep.
Diaspora wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when she suddenly awoke to her house elves' frantic shouts. "Mistress! Mistress! Mistress, wake up! The house is on fire!" Diaspora could already see and smell the smoke as it began to fill the mansion.
She quickly shouted, "Paddy! Honny! Zimpsy! Dimper! Katcher!" The five house elves all appeared in rapid succession. Despite her fear and worry, Diaspora spoke with a firm voice, "Each of you will gather one of the children and take them to the safe house. Paddy get Alaric. Honny get Blaire. Dimper get Carlisle. Katcher get Dustin. Zimpsy get Esme. Now go!"
All the house elves replied simultaneously with, "Yes, Mistress" and Disapparrated to take their charges to safety. Diaspora then wrapped her hand around Tipper's, finally allowing him take her to safety.
Once they were in the safe house, Diaspora turned to Tipper. "Tipper, I need you to go and find my husband. Tell him everything that has happened and that we are all safe."
Tipper replied in a more subdued voice than usual, "Tipper goes and does what Mistress says. Take care Mistress."
When the elf had disappeared, Diaspora moved to reassure her children, all of whom were gathered on the nearby bed. They had awoken either from the smoke or from the house elves grabbing them, and all five of them were scared, some trying not to cry while others let their tears fall freely. She huddled with them on the large king-sized bed and did all that she could to comfort and keep them calm.
Diaspora, recovering from her own shock, was relieved that no one was hurt. She was burning to ask the house elves about the fire, but she didn't want to say anything that might further frighten the children. Soon, they all drifted off to sleep from exhaustion, leaving Diaspora as the last one barely awake. Now, Diaspora had only one thing on her mind; when whomever was responsible found out that they had failed, would they have the nerve to try again?
Mon amour=my love
Ma petit=my little
Please review and thank you to my beta-readers: TheSparker, extramundane epeolatry, evadnekapaneos!
