Firstly - I am very, very sorry that this chapter is so late. It's the end of term, and schoolwork finally caught up with me. I'm really sorry. The next update should be a lot faster, because it's the holidays! *does a happy dance*

Anyway, not much action in this chapter. It's mostly the reactions and immediate consequences of the Order finding out about Harry. There isn't actually anything from Harry's point of view in this chapter though. It's all light. Definitely some dark in the next chapter though.

So, here it is, finally:

A Stolen Childhood

Chapter Nine: Behind the Broken Mirror

Ginny noticed something was wrong the moment the Order arrived back at Grimmauld Place.

It was difficult not to notice it, actually. She was perched on the landing with Hermione and Ron, waiting for Ashton to get back from the ministry. No one had said any more about it, but they were all worried. Anything could have gone wrong. In fact, it would be a miracle if everyone got back alive.

Professor Dumbledore came through the door first with such a grave expression that Ginny knew something terrible had happened. She tensed immediately, trying to prepare for what could have happened. Had someone died? It seemed the most likely scenario, but she couldn't tell.

The elderly professor swept in, and Ashton, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black came in behind him. Ginny let out a breath she had not known she was holding. Her friend was all right. Well, not physically hurt at least. But he and the three Marauders all looked incredibly shell-shocked, and she could not help but feel a strong sense of foreboding. Something really terrible had happened, something bigger than a death. Of course, that did not mean no one had died.

Frank and Alice Longbottom came in next, with a similar mixture of pain and elation, which didn't make much sense. The rest of the Order piled in after them, wearing assorted expressions of distress. Ginny counted the Order and double checked, but they were all there - no one had died. That was lucky. Amazing, even.

Was it intentional on You-Know-Who's part?

She shuddered and pushed that thought away. At that moment, Lily Potter and her own mother came into the room, fretting. Lily gasped "Ash, are you okay? You're not hurt? James, what about you - what's wrong? What happened?"

So she had noticed, too. It wasn't really surprising. But Ginny was insanely curious - and anxious - about what had befallen the Order at the ministry. Dumbledore told Lily and Ginny's mother to leave Ashton be for now, and let him rest, before ushering the Order into the meeting room. Lily hesitated.

"Ash -"

"I'm okay, just really tired," said Ashton, in a voice with absolutely no expression in it. It sounded flat, emotionless - completely unlike his normal way of speech. Ginny shuddered despite herself, her instincts screaming at her that something had gone dreadfully wrong. "I just need to get some sleep."

"If you're sure," said Lily doubtfully, before heading into the meeting room. Ashton came up the stairs and noticed them on the landing. For a second, he looked as if he might smile, but evidently something crossed his mind and his face fell. He walked past them and into the upstairs hallway, heading towards the room he shared with Ron.

Ginny, Hermione, and Ron exchanged glances before following him. By some unspoken agreement, they had decided not to ask Ashton about what had happened until he was ready to talk about it. But knowing Ashton, that could be a while.

Ashton flopped down on his bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling. The other three sat awkwardly on Ron's bed, trying to ignore the pressing silence. No one said anything. After about half an hour, Mrs Weasley came upstairs and told them to go to sleep.

Reluctantly, Ginny and Hermione left the room. The instant the door was closed they started conversing in anxious whispers.

"What happened at the ministry?"

"How should I know, Ginny?"

"You must've thought of something!"

"Well, I don't have much of an idea, but whatever it was it affected everyone! Did you see Professor Dumbledore's expression?"

"Of course I did, Hermione, I'm not that blind. What could have happened, though?"

"Girls, bed," said Ginny's mother, and they hurried to their bedroom, quickly changing for bed and turning out the lights.

"I hope he tells us soon."

"Me too, Gin."

"Not just because I'm curious, Hermione, but I want to help him. I can't do anything - we can't do anything - if he won't say a word. I counted the Order members - everyone who went came back alive, and there weren't any major injuries."

"Maybe it's to do with the prophecy."

Ginny sat up suddenly. "What?"

"The prophecy. If no one died, why else is he so... well, you know. Stunned. Maybe there was something in it that made him feel like that."

Ginny bit her lip. "Maybe... but that doesn't explain why Frank and Alice looked the same way, does it? Do you reckon Fred and George have any spare extendable ears?"

"Ginny!"

"Sorry. But this is important."

"You're right, it doesn't explain it." In the dark, Ginny couldn't see Hermione's expression, but she knew the fifth-year Gryffindor would be wearing her puzzled frown. Ginny had seen that a lot recently.

"We should get some rest," said Ginny abruptly, rolling over.

"Right," said Hermione. Neither of them said another word, but they both lay awake for several hours - and, in the room across the hallway, so did Ron - worrying over their friend and what had happened to him.

Ashton did not lie awake for hours. He didn't sleep at all.

Albus had expected the Order meeting, which was held immediately after the battle in the ministry, to be extremely chaotic. He'd expected people to ask many questions, and demand explanations he didn't have. None of it. People sat in stunned silence. The blow hadn't quite sunk in yet for most of them, and they sat there, absorbing it.

Lily finally broke the silence. "What happened? Something's wrong with Ashton, and he won't tell me what. James - Frank, Alice, Sirius, Remus, Albus - you all look like someone dropped a ton of bricks on your heads. What happened at the ministry? What did the prophecy say?"

James looked at Lily, as if unsure whether to tell her. After a couple of seconds, he said hoarsely, "Lily... they're not dead."

"What?" asked Lily, now perfectly confused. Who wasn't dead?

James glanced helplessly at Sirius and Remus, but they just waved him to go on, pain reflected in their eyes too. He hesitated - how would Lily take it? Would she freak out, be happy, or just not believe it? He took a deep breath, steeling his nerve, and said quietly, "Neville... and Harry. They're not dead. He didn't kill them. They're the Dark Heirs."

Whatever Lily had been expecting, this was not it. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. "W-what?" she stammered, unable to believe it.

"Voldemort never killed Harry. He never killed Neville. He raised them, as his sons. The Dark Heirs," he said tiredly, unable to keep the pain out of his voice. "Tonight... at the ministry... tonight they showed themselves to us."

"He's not dead?" whispered Lily. "Harry's alive?"

James nodded mutely. Lily looked like she had the day Harry and Ashton were born - her face lit up with happiness and her eyes lost the haze that was always present during the war. "What's he like?" she asked happily.

Some people looked away. Lily frowned in confusion, and James took her hands, knowing this would be hard for her to hear. "Lily... he's loyal to Voldemort. To the dark. I think..." He swallowed, and forced himself to say it. "I think he might hate us."

The colour drained out of her face, and James winced. So did the rest of the Order. Almost all of them had known Harry, and almost all of them had known Neville. To know that they hated the Order now - that they were on the opposite side in the war - was shattering.

"What about the prophecy?" called Hestia Jones, evidently trying to break out of the immobilising shock and sadness.

"I do not know if Ashton heard it," said Dumbledore gravely. "James, you spoke to him after the battle - did he hear it?"

"He did," said James. "I don't know if he remembers all of it. And I won't ask him about it, not until he's ready to talk."

"He has to tell us! It's important!" snapped Sturgis Podmore, who winced when Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily turned to glare at him.

"He will tell us when he's ready," said Remus. "You must all appreciate how hard this has been on him. Ashton and Harry are identical twins - they were very close. Whatever Voldemort has done to Harry - and Neville - shattered this bond. If Harry hates him, can you imagine how he is feeling?"

Some people murmured uncomfortably, most having never experienced that kind of bond. Remus continued. "He's not going to say anything about this for a while. We can try to comfort him, but no one here knows exactly what he's going through - knowing what his twin has become."

"A murderer," growled Moody. He ignored the glares he got. "You can deny it all you want. We know he killed Doge. How many others do you think he's killed? And what about the incident at Crouch Manor? He would have killed you all if he hadn't been ordered not to."

James felt his heart break, but he couldn't deny what Moody was saying. His son had become an assassin.

"You know the first half of the prophecy, don't you, Albus?" asked Tonks, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"I do," said Dumbledore. "However, as prophecies go, this one is exceedingly cryptic." He paused, and then recited all he knew of the prophecy. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... brothers in blood and brothers in all but blood, one becomes two, two become one, three become one... the one will possess power the Dark Lord knows not... and the Dark Lord shall mark the one as his equal and shall mark the heart of the light... turn to darkness, turn to light, the Chosen One shall face him... and either shall die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one shall be born as the seventh month dies..."

James shivered as he heard it. This prophecy was about his son.

"Parts of it, I believe have come to pass," said Dumbledore. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... That has already transpired. Ashton was born to Lily and James at the end of July. Brothers in blood and brothers in all but blood... What was it Harry said?"

"What?" asked Tonks confusedly.

"He said 'We know who we are. Our place is at our father's side.' They know Voldemort is not their father by blood - and they also know, therefore, that they are not brothers by blood."

Comprehension dawned on the faces of the Order. "Of course," whispered Lily. "Brothers in blood - that must be Harry and Ashton - and brothers in all but blood - Harry and Neville!"

"Hang on," said Sirius. "Wouldn't that make Harry the Chosen One? He picked up the prophecy, after all."

"Not necessarily," said Albus. "The prophecy may have been made about any or all of them. All three fit the requirements. I believe Ashton is the Chosen One, but the other two are very important to the prophecy, too. The next line of them prophecy - one becomes two, two become one, three become one - refers to that. One becomes two - I think that is referring to Harry and Ashton being identical twins."

The Order nodded, understanding.

"Two become one, three become one... Well, in a way, that has happened - Harry and Neville have been turned to the dark. I have no proof of this, however - this is where the prophecy is getting enigmatic."

"Shouldn't we just wait to see what happens, then?" asked Emmeline Vance cautiously. "If we don't understand this prophecy, perhaps we should... leave it be... until we know more."

There was assorted nodding at this. Dumbledore sighed, but relented. "Very well. Until Ashton is ready to tell us what happened when he spoke with Harry, we will have to wait. This meeting is complete."

Ron eventually managed to get some sleep after lying awake worrying for several hours. He only managed to grab a few hours, though; it was six in the morning when he finally woke up. He immediately sat up and glanced across Ashton's bed, only to find it empty.

Slightly worried, he dressed quickly and went downstairs to the dining table. Ashton wasn't there, but Hermione, Fred, and George were, along with several Order members who had stayed the night and needed to get to work - Kingsley, Tonks, Percy, Dad, Sirius, and James.

Fred and George were trying to have a conversation with James and Sirius about pranking, but it was difficult because neither Marauder was saying much. Kingsley, Percy, and Dad were talking about some ministry-related problem, with Hermione listening in, and Tonks was staring at the plate of food in front of her as if she could eat with her eyes, a glum expression on her face. Mum bustled in a minute later with Hermione and Percy's breakfast, as they had apparently only just come downstairs.

"Good morning, Ron," said Hermione, as he slipped into his seat.

"No, it's not," he said. "Look at Tonks. Look at James and Sirius. Everyone seems down - Mum, Dad, Percy, Kingsley - they all look like someone just died or something."

"No one died, we checked, remember? And they would have told us," replied Hermione.

"I know that," said Ron. "That's just what it looks like. Have you seen Ash?"

Hermione's eyes were troubled. "What? He's missing?"

"Well, he wasn't in our room when I woke up, and he's not down here," said Ron. Mum hurried back into the room and handed Ron his breakfast. "Thanks, Mum," he said quickly.

"You're welcome, just don't talk with your mouth full!" said Mum, heading back into the kitchen.

"Maybe he went to the bathroom?" asked Hermione.

"It's already been ten minutes since I woke up, he can't have been in the bathroom, not for that long..."

"What's this?" asked Ginny, who had just come downstairs.

"You awake too? It's six in the morning, Gin," said Hermione.

"Didn't sleep well, I was too busy worrying about Ash. But what's up? You two look worried. What happened?" said Ginny.

"Nothing... happened, exactly," said Ron cautiously. "I can't find Ash. He wasn't in the room when I woke up, and he's not down here either..."

Ginny bit her lip, looking worried. "Should we tell Mr Potter?" she asked, lowering her voice and glancing sideways at James, who was listening to something George was telling him about portable swamps. His face looked sunken, as if he had aged several years in the space of a night, and his eyes were dead and hollow.

"He'll want to know, but it might be nothing, and I wouldn't want to make a fuss if it is..." said Hermione doubtfully. "I don't know..."

"I think we should tell him," said Ron firmly. "Excuse me - Mr Potter?"

James turned. Ron hesitated, and then ploughed on. "Um - have you seen Ash this morning - ?"

James paled, and beside him, so did Sirius. "What? Is he missing?"

"Um - yeah, I guess. He wasn't in his bed this morning - and he's not down here - could be nothing, but after last night -"

"Oh no, no, no," said James worriedly, running his fingers through his hair. "This is not good, this is not good..."

"James, I'm sure he's fine - he can't have left the headquarters, the wards won't let anyone leave without permission," said Tonks. "He must be somewhere here."

"What's wrong with him, though?" asked Ginny. "You all came back from the ministry looking like someone had died, but we counted, no casualties. Ash didn't say a word to us last night and we sat with him for ages. Now he's gone off somewhere and you're all worked up - what's going on? No one's told us anything, but we're his best friends!"

"Ginny," said Dad warningly. Like that'll stop her, thought Ron grimly, knowing how determined and fiercely protective his sister could be.

"What?" she snapped. "He's our friend and something's upsetting him. We want to know what the freaking hell is going on!"

"Ginny! Language!" scolded Mum, coming in. "Don't you let me hear you using that sort of language again, understand?"

James glanced at Sirius, as if considering telling them what was happening, but Sirius shook his head and whispered something in the other marauder's ear. He nodded.

"That's for Ash to tell you, unless he wants someone else to tell for him," said James tiredly. He glanced at the other ministry workers. "Better get to work - long day today."

There was assorted grumbling, but they got up from their chairs and headed for the fireplace. James paused and turned around.

"Can you three - five if the twins want to help - can you try and find Ash? He'll be brooding, but he really needs support right now, and I can't take a day off - Scrimgeour is coming down really hard on everyone since Voldemort returned, I'd probably be fired on the spot."

Ron flinched at You-Know-Who's name, but he understood. The Order needed influence in the ministry. James wanted to stay and help his son through whatever was happening, but he couldn't abandon his post. "We'll find him," Ron promised, and Ginny, Hermione, Fred, and George nodded. James hurried after Kingsley into the fire, and with a flash of green light, he had flooed to the ministry.

"Let's go find him," said Hermione quietly. Ron nodded. His friend needed his help.

Ashton hugged his knees to his chest and stared out of the tiny, solitary window in the attic that looked as though it hadn't been cleaned for years. Blue sky. Sunlight. A beautiful August day.

His heart twisted. Ironic, then that he had never felt worse. Overnight the elation of his twin's survival had slowed turned to horror. His brother was a killer. He was on the dark side of the war, and - it seemed - he had been there for ten years. Well, ten years this October.

He brushed a tear from his eye. Gryffindors don't cry. I won't cry. I won't. But he couldn't help it. It was as if suddenly the world had turned cold, dark, and bitter, though the sun shone outside, mocking him and his anguish. How many times had he wished for his brother back? Too many to count.

But I didn't want it to be like this.

His brother no longer cared about him. That had been obvious from the contempt and scorn Harry had shown him. It sickened Ashton to know what Voldemort had done - stolen away a five-year-old child and twisted his innocence for his own sinister purposes. Harry had killed - Ashton had seen him. His soul was torn now, tainted and corrupted. Not just his - Neville's, too.

He just wanted his brother back. But now that seemed to be more impossible than when he'd thought Harry was dead.

"Ash?"

He turned. Ron poked his head up trapdoor and sighed in relief. "It is you, thank Merlin! Everyone was getting worried." The red-haired fifth year pulled himself up into the attic, and was soon followed by Hermione, Fred, George, and lastly, Ginny. "Your dad almost had a heart attack when I told him we couldn't find you."

Ashton was too miserable to say anything, so he didn't. He just stared out of the window again. He'd come to the attic to brood, to be alone. No one ever came up here except Kreacher.

"I know you probably want to be alone, but your dad thought you needed support," said Ron. He didn't ask what was wrong or anything, for which Ashton was grateful. For one, he didn't feel like talking, and for another, he wouldn't know how to say even if he had wanted to tell them.

For a while, no one said anything. They just sat there for at least an hour. It felt like a repeat of the previous night, when they had simply sat with him, waiting until he was ready to talk. He felt a surge of affection for his friends that was almost instantly quelled by despair, but it had been long enough for him to decide to tell them. He owed them that much.

"You want to know what happened at the ministry?" asked Ashton.

"Only if you're ready to talk about it," said Hermione. "You don't have to."

Ashton shook his head. "I owe you guys at least that much." He was silent for a moment, trying to pick the right words. "The Death Eaters were there already, of course. The Dark Heirs were leading. But they had their masks off. Can you guess who they were?"

His voice was laced with pain, and he knew they could clearly see the agony in his eyes. They all shook their heads. They didn't know.

"It was Neville... and Harry," he said quietly, so quietly he was afraid he hadn't been heard. But he had. He could tell by the collective gasp.

"But they're -" began Hermione, but then it hit her. "You-Know-Who didn't kill them. He took them and made them his heirs instead." She spoke as if she wanted Ashton to say she was wrong, which she had probably never hoped before.

He nodded. He couldn't do anything else. The thought of it filled him with pain. Harry had almost killed James, Sirius, Kingsley, Tonks and Diggle. He had killed Doge, and probably more. Ashton hadn't thought the pain could get any worse, but seeing the horror reflected in the eyes of his friends, his heart twisted even further. Soon, he was certain, it would snap.

"Oh, Ash!" exclaimed Hermione. She looked like she was about to start crying, and she had never known Harry or Neville. Ron simply looked shocked, as though unable to believe it. Fred and George's normal goofy smiles and mischievous glints in their eyes had disappeared, to be replaced by looks of sadness and loss. Ginny looked quite upset, too.

"No wonder you were so quiet," said Ginny softly.

Ashton didn't say anything. The events that had transpired in the ministry kept repeating themselves, over and over again in his mind. Walking down the row in the Hall of Prophecies... Harry taking it before him and throwing it to Neville... the battle beginning, and Harry running to another row - had he done that on purpose? To upset him more, to make the feeling of loss worm its way deeper into his heart?

Harry and Neville formed Voldemort's human shield. Almost no Order member would ever hurt a child, and if it was a child they had known and loved - well, very, very few people would try to kill the Dark Heirs now that their identities had been revealed to the Order.

It hurt. Everything hurt now, though. What difference did it make for another dose of pain to place itself on Ashton's heart? His brother was being manipulated, and couldn't see it. Harry thought Dumbledore was a puppet-master. Maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn't. But Harry couldn't see his own strings. He couldn't see what the monster he called father was doing to him. His soul was being destroyed, little by little.

Ashton flinched. The others noticed, but said nothing, distracted by thoughts in their own heads. The silence rang out in the headquarters attic. None of the six teenagers there said a word, but just sat there until they were called downstairs for lunch.

How could they say anything, to anyone? There was absolutely nothing to say.

Oh, and by the way - a BIG thank you to princes-slash who has offered to translate this story into Spanish!

Please send me some feedback on this chapter!

-Jaffaninja-