A/N: Just a small update to let everyone know I haven't died yet!
P.S. Thanks for all the positive and kind comments!
P.S.S. A special thank you to every who pointed out small grammar mistakes. Time is not something I have a lot of, so I'm super grateful!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.
Chapter 28
Some time later
There was absolute stillness in the world.
The ever-present susurration of running water was all but absent; no liquid of any nature dripped nor flowed in the gloom of the room. No traces of heat were present to give rise to convection; the lack of moving air failing to provide an impetus to sway willowy stems of potted plants and their reniform leaves. No frog croaked; no warbler warbled; no cricket chirred – the violin that nature had so generously bestowed upon it was silent and unmoving.
"…just a bit more…"
A lone moonbeam shone softly down through a window and doused a young girl in an ethereal glow, its silver-white luminescence revealing that she was bent over a rather curious assortment of items that lay on atop a wooden table – a cornucopia of foodstuffs that consisted of uncooked vegetables, garden herbs, fresh tomatoes and all other kinds of raw edibles.
It could also be seen that this girl had been working laboriously through the early stages of the morning; a grim and determined look on her delicate visage and a tightly clenched fist that held a raised phial high in the air revealed that whatever she was doing, it was of the highest import.
The silence neither perturbed nor intimidated her, but somehow comforted her. It seeped into her every pore, almost causing a state of heighted drowsiness which resulted in a thick, near palpable effusion of tranquillity.
Truly, a silence like no other – a peaceful silence.
"…almost done," Ariana whispered under her breath, carefully tilting the transparent phial she was so tightly clasping, watching the dark liquid contained within steadily drip out drop by drop and dissolve into the food that lay before her with a soft hiss.
Today, her long mission was nearing its end, for her task was on the cusp of completion.
A wave of mental fatigue suddenly washed over her, her mind growing tired from constant and fastidious measurements of the unknown liquid exiting from its glassy confines. As a result, her mind absently wandered back to a memory that took place roughly three months ago, to a scene which would explain what all that she was doing in the empty kitchens of Godric's Hollow.
The candle breathed its light onto Albus' face in an arc of brilliant gold, the gentle glow showing only an unsmiling and serious countenance as his silhouette flickered against the tenebrous backdrop of his office.
"…are you absolutely sure?"
Ariana nodded back, "Yes, without a shadow of a doubt," she replied gravely, her expression matching his, "Charlus and Dorea Potter will die in exactly three months and ten days; I have seen their gravestones myself."
Albus closed his eyes and pinched the top of his brow tightly before speaking, "How did they pass?"
"Dragon Pox."
Albus' eyes opened in alarm as he looked back at the young witch, "No!" he gasped, "Not… Dragon Pox."
An uneasy look flashed on his face as he stood up and started to pace around the room, the uneven gait of his stride betraying his feeling of disquietude. "Dragon Pox lies dormant within a person for several months before the symptoms suddenly manifest – it can turn fatal within days," he carried on with a worried face, "The only treatment we know of – Gorsemoor's Method – only has a twenty percent chance of curing the afflicted and in addition, can only be used once on a person."
Ariana couldn't help but let out of noise of surprise at the reaction.
"Hold on…" she said slowly as a look of unfeigned horror grew on her face, "…you don't have the cure for Dragon Pox yet?"
Albus froze mid-step and violently whirled towards her, studying her with a look of intensity before it suddenly morphed into one of realization.
"Oh, thank Merlin," he breathed in a tone of relief as he remembered that this young witch was from the future, the first signs of twinkling appearing in his heavenly blue eyes, "You know of the cure then?"
The look of horror hadn't lessened from Ariana's face.
"I... I think... it's…" she stammered in response as she furiously wracked her brain. She knew that the cure definitely existed twenty years in the future… but very soon realized that she possessed near to no knowledge of it at all.
"I-I don't know," she finally cried out in a trembling voice as self-condemnation washed over her being in waves, "If… If only I paid more attention in my Potion's Classes I wouldn't–"
Albus had already crossed the room and was kneeled down in front of her, both of his warm, age-worn hands squeezing gently on her shaking shoulders.
"Do not blame yourself, Ariana," he murmured comfortingly, "Breathe. Take it slow. Take a step back and think – say the first thing that comes to your mind."
Ariana took large gulps of air and calmed her breathing before returning once more to her memories.
"The cure for Dragon Pox was… was…" she started tentatively as the cogs and gears in her brain stirred to life, actuated by the intensity of her will.
"… created in November 1991!" she exclaimed loudly, grasping greedily at any slivers of knowledge that lazily floated around in her mind.
"Well done, Ariana. Is there anything else?" Albus encouraged, hope rising within him as the young witch before him scrunched up her face in deep thought again.
"It was also discovered by… by…"
Ariana then looked upwards at the old wizard, her eyes lighting up in wonder.
"…YOU!"
Albus eyebrows rose high, "Did I now?" he asked in disbelief, and after receiving a vigorous nod in return, he adopted a pensive look, "Fascinating…" he murmured as he looked out of the window and away from the young witch, the new information electrifying his great mind.
As the wizard ruminated away, Ariana suddenly gave a gasp and started to wave her hands animatedly in the air, "Albus… Al… Al..." she spluttered breathlessly, trying to draw his attention back to her as an epiphany struck her head-on like a truck.
Albus gave a start from the burst of energy that out of the blue and refocused on a young girl that almost looked like she was having convulsions.
"…yes?" he blinked.
Ariana put a small hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath from the paroxysm of excitement, "You… also published a book, called… 'The Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood' in the exact same year… as finding the cure for Dragon Pox," she wheezed, "D-Do you think they are somehow related?
Albus' face grew calculating and stood back up, his legs moving by themselves as he started to pace around the office. Mumbling under his breath, his pacing steadily increased with each passing step until it nearly crescendoed into a run.
He then froze solid.
"To stand on the shoulders of giants," Albus suddenly quoted with a hearty chuckle, not making a lick of sense to the young witch that looked up bemusedly at him, "Even if those shoulders are indeed my own from the future".
His look then sobered as he looked down at the young witch. She seemed so... fragile where she sat. The image stirred the beginnings of a long-forgotten flame in the brazier of his heart, the kindling of fire seeking essentially to link his heart and his soul as one.
He then spoke with such intensity, such purpose, that even the Fates themselves quivered in ecstasy.
"So let it be written… so let it be done."
Ariana's mind snapped back to reality after replaying the whole scene out in her head.
"Albus… I never doubted you for a single second," she whispered proudly into the dead of the night, wondering just how on earth was the wizard able to condense years of research into a mere month.
"This final batch should complete the treatment," she continued in an undertone, talking to herself to fill the empty silence, "After eight weeks of continual administration with this new, experimental potion, my grandparents should soon be as right as rain for many, many years to come."
With that utterance, she pulled the stopper over the see-through phial she was holding and corked it with a tight and careful twist, effectively to stop any unwanted leakage in case she needed it in an emergency – for Albus had only concocted one batch, the next would take another month to make.
"And with this, my grandparents' destinies are now their own," she murmured powerfully as she stowed the nearly empty phial into the folds of her clothes, turning her gaze towards the window, out and into the star-lit blanket of a midsummer's night sky.
They should be fine this time… right?
Morning came swiftly for a young girl who had crawled tiredly back into the warm confines of her bed, for she'd fallen fast asleep after completing her routine task in the heart of the night, one action that she had stealthily repeated over the course of the last two months.
An expensive duvet wrapped around her body snug like a cocoon; a silk mattress and cool, velvety pillows that were thick and irresistibly soft replicated the feeling of resting on a gently billowing cloud.
Now this, was a level of physical comfort she had rarely experienced before in her past life, and one which she now relished every single night in Godric's Hollow. Perhaps it was the first signs of peace in her strife-filled life when her ultimate goal temporarily shifted from saving the Wizarding world, to buying the most comfortable pillows she could find once she returned back to Hogwarts.
The cry of a rooster suddenly echoed through the air, abruptly waking her from her much-deserved slumber as the sound grated harshly on her heart and ears – nature's herald for the start of a new day.
Giving a loud yawn as she slipped out from under her toasty confines, she then sleepily stabilized herself once she was on her feet before padding over the cupboard to take her necessary toiletries to take to the bathroom to freshen up. She'd always been an avid believer of bathing before breakfast.
After showering and grooming herself, she exited a steamy bathroom with a much brighter look on her face. Making her way down to the stairs dining room, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the staircase as a sound that resembled a dying whale emanated from her stomach.
Her stomach demanded to be fed.
"There, there, little one," Ariana said in a comfortingly as she looked down, gently patting her groaning midriff with one hand, "There'll be soon be lots of tasty food in you. There's no need for that sort of–"
She suddenly froze and cut herself off as she felt a presence behind her.
"Don't worry dear, talking to yourself like that is completely normal," Lady Potter teased as she brushed past the frozen young witch and ruffled her freshly dried hair, sniggering on the inside at the embarrassed look that sprouted across the girl's face.
"I-I wasn't–"
"Wasn't what? Hmm?" Dorea interrupted, hiding a mischievous look on her face as she hummed questioningly over her shoulder, prompting Ariana to rush down the stairs after her towards the kitchens, spluttering excuses and waving her arms animatedly in the air.
Hence, the day started on a light note, a rather appropriate tone for the final day before the trio of schoolkids had to return back to Hogwarts for the new semester.
"HOOPY!" Dorea called out loudly when the duo reached the bottom.
Silently appearing into existence, a male house elf promptly apparated before the older woman and gave a low and respectful bow upon hearing its master's summons.
"Yes, Lady Potter?" the creature wheezed after it raised its weather-beaten head back up, the raspiness and tiredness of its voice clearly indicating that it was in the final stages of its life.
"Ah – hello there, Hoopy," Dorea cheerfully greeted as she grabbed her wand off a nearby table, smirking when she heard Ariana's stomach give another mournful wail, "I'm pretty sure you know why I've called for you," she continued briskly, a causal flick her wand causing an apron to fly out from a nearby cupboard and tie itself neatly around her back.
She looked back down towards the waiting elf, "It's breakfast time," she grinned fully, showing the full whites of her teeth.
Since it was the final day of the holidays, she had in her mind planned to make a special meal, one last breakfast, for she wouldn't see the children again for quite some time.
During the whole preparatory phase, Ariana helped the best she could with the cutting, grinding, dicing and boiling – which was not much, to her chagrin – but she kept the mood up of those around her with constant little jokes and witticisms. In absolute truth, she was only here to properly ensure the raw food and ingredients they were using was the very same ones she had doused with Albus' experimental potion the night before, as she had done nearly every single night as of late.
After one laborious hour it was complete, and the result was a wondrous sight to behold.
In the middle of the table sat a still warm loaf. The honey coating of the bread had charred ever so slightly but the crumb inside was soft and delicate. The faint aroma of crushed cinnamon scatted atop the home-made bread created an intoxicating enough stimulus to transport one back to happier times of plenty. Beside the loaf sat its companions. Poached and scrambled eggs, smoky mushrooms, crispy bacon, piles of fried potatoes, tureens of fresh fruit, elegant glasses of orange juice, and many more edibles beckoned ever so seductively to the starving young girl.
Such is the strength when Man and Beast work as one.
Though wizard and witch alike possessed house elves as literal slaves that were often tied to thraldom to specific bloodlines, the Potter household had always operated a bit differently from the rest of the magical world. Here, the Potter matriarch enjoyed working as one with the diminutive creatures.
"Oddly reminiscent of S.P.E.W." Ariana mumbled to herself as she stood back and watched the elves congratulate each other with excited squeaks and hugs, oddly missing the times when a certain bushy-haired girl endeavoured to have her then outrageous ideas promulgated throughout Hogwarts, "Hermione truly was a progressive girl for her time."
She then gasped out loud when her train of thought lead down to another school of thinking, one which she'd been stuck in a quagmire for quite some. As she thought deeper about it, she realized that now was the perfect time and with perhaps with this next act, she could gain a valuable ally.
As the house elves skipped back to the kitchens and the witches were setting the cutlery and plates down, Ariana casually slid up beside her middle-aged grandmother.
"Err, M-Mrs Potter," she started clumsily, fumbling with her words as she struggled to find the correct words to begin, not knowing herself where this conversation would take her.
"What do you think about the suffrage movement that the Muggles in British Parliament passed in 1928?" she spoke all in one breath, her voice subtly adopting an offhand manner.
Dorea let out a grunt of surprise at the question and paused in her actions. "You speak of… the Equal Franchise Act of 1928, right?" the older witch replied slowly, her brow furrowing as she struggled to recall Muggle history, "The one which allowed Muggle women to take part in parliamentary decisions henceforth?"
Ariana nodded in affirmation, glad at least one Pure-blood had knowledge of things other than those magical related, "The very same. What do you think of it?" she repeated once more.
Dorea's eyebrows pinched together even further as she thought about it more deeply.
"It's… neither here nor there, my dear," she answered hesitantly after a couple of seconds, the tone of her voice clearly non-committal to the topic.
Ariana refused to let the conversation go, cementing her stance in the debate. "So, you think your opinion isn't important to you? That your voice holds neither strength nor influence? That your desires are worth nothing without the use of proxies?" she emphasized sharply, her voice tinctured with the first signs of defiance.
A baffled look sprouted across the older woman's face at the sudden and seemingly radical line of questioning. The Potter matriarch then collected herself and sighed, turning her head and looking out the window into the warm golden rays of the rising sun, her eyes glazing over as she processed each comment in her mind.
"We leave such… trivialities to the men, my dear," Dorea finally declared with a soft voice, her words trailing slowly one after the other as if unwilling to take flight.
Ariana hung her head downwards as a shadow flashed across her eyes, her face pulling into a pained grimace at the statement that was just uttered, the answer the opposite of what she wanted to hear.
If I remember correctly, it will be many, many years from now before the equivalent act in Wizarding World will get passed. And even then, those new rules were never as effective as the ones the Muggles had created decades ago.
Also… during the First War, women of all statuses, even those at the top of the hierarchy, fell prey to Voldemort's dominance without question, for bondage itself was dictated within their very own laws.
Hmm, maybe if I…
Her ruminations came quickly to an end as Dorea's voice floated down towards her, interrupting her train of thought.
"Ariana, do you know what the Iron Curtain is?" the older woman said slowly, her midnight-black eyes turning slightly wary.
The said girl blinked twice and promptly shook her head, the terminology entirely new to her.
"The Iron Curtain is as tangible as it is intangible, physical as it is ideological. In the Muggle world it is geopolitically represented by–" Dorea started but suddenly stopped mid-sentence after all she received was a confused countenance.
She quickly reminded herself she was talking to a twelve-year old. She then cleared her throat noisily as she tried to mentally bypass the air of an educated scholar the younger witch was currently exuding.
"To spare you the lengthy details on continental politics," she smoothly picked back up, "The Muggles of East and West Europe are as of this moment, split in half. It first began with the creation of a great Wall, a hideous amalgamation of barbed wire and concrete that denies anyone entry in or out, regardless of their circumstances."
"Quickly after it was built in Berlin, the Wall became some more than just a physical barrier: it became an ideological concept. Even to this very day, a wedge has been driven between the dividing factions of our once beloved continent, son pitted against father, mother pitted against daughter," she finished grimly.
"That's err… very interesting," Ariana replied unsurely, totally lost as she scratched her head, "I don't really understand it, but what does that have to do with the Wizarding world?"
Dorea gave a tired sigh, the first signs of crinkling appearing on her youthful face, "Because there is the same Iron Curtain around the Wizarding World, but this time, an inflexible dichotomy between the cultures of those magical and all those non-magical."
Ariana pulled a sour face, "Wizards and witches have been saying that for centuries," she argued, "Why doesn't anyone do something about it? We surely can benefit from one another."
A haunted look flashed through Dorea's eyes, flickering too briefly however, for the other to catch. "I've tried," she simply replied with a shrug, "Many, many times. And through that, the Potter household has earned many enemies," she continued wearily before plopping down onto a nearby chair, "Our sordid culture is set in stone. Its foundations – indestructible, its nuances – immutable."
Ariana angrily blew out a breath of air and gave a deep frown that was seemingly directed to everyone and no one at the same time.
Nothing is ever set in stone. The young prodigy thought fiercely to herself.
"I… want to change everything," she then murmured almost inaudibly, so soft that it rivalled the susurrations of a gentle breeze.
Dorea cocked her head, for all she heard was a faint whisper, "Pardon?"
"I want to change everything," Ariana repeated in a louder voice, voice gaining momentum with each punctuated word.
"Every. Last. Thing."
The unquenchable hero complex that had always resided inside her fiery soul reared up once more within the young girl and perfused to every part of her body as she spoke, unaware herself that every jagged rock in her path was simply an opportunity to think harder, every setback merely a chance to develop new solutions.
The harder one worked for a better morrow, the nobler the outcome.
"I can almost see the fire that burns bright within you," Dorea murmured fondly as she unconsciously stood back up, her heart moving as she placed her hands Ariana's small shoulders, almost envying the unique aura of strength and compassion her young charge was radiating.
"At your age, most of my priorities were just about gossiping about the next boy or buying a new dress," she continued with a small chuckle, "Meanwhile, here you are, talking about things that would make those who sit atop the Wizarding World tremble in fear."
"The path you intend to walk down will not be easy. As I once did," she warned in full seriousness, "Influential and power-hungry wizards and witches that carry all manner of anachronistic ideals will bark behind your back, nip at your heels, and sever your tendons."
She knelt down on one knee so that they were both eye level, "But know this, my dear. You'll find an ally in the Potters yet," she whispered solemnly as she leaned in and rested her forehead upon the young girl's.
"No matter where your ventures take you."
They held the pose for a full minute before Ariana silently broke contact and skipped back up the stairs to wake the three other members of the household for breakfast, her radiant smile revealing that she had found her first ally in a battle that was to be not decided by the clashing of swords or the howling of wolves, but by the first spark of rebellion, of defiance… of courage.
The wheels of Fate begin to turn once more, spinning ever so furiously as it struggled to keep up with a child whose impact on reality was bigger than one could ever possibly imagine.
And thus, the last breakfast started.
It was almost impossible to feel grumpy on that fine morning, for Ariana's chipper attitude had infectiously spread to the rest of them, a continued event without harshness or strife.
Lord Potter gave a satisfied pat on his rounded belly once he had finished his plate and leaned back heavily into his chair. Just as he was about to start the second phase of the feast for the morning, a warm cup of tea, he noticed out of the corner of his eyes, two piercing eyes that had, and still were, scrutinizing his every move for some unknown reason.
"Is there something on my face, Miss Peverell?" he asked curiously, absently noting some shock appearing on his young guest's face once she realized that she'd been caught staring.
Ariana gave a small cough of embarrassment before putting on a display of mock-thoughtfulness. "It must be my imagination, Mr Potter," she started slowly, tapping her chin in an additional show of contemplation, "But your face used to look quite err… pale. However, in the past few weeks, you're looking quite… healthy?" she finished almost quizzically, tilting her head to one side innocently.
Charlus raised his eyebrows, "You're quite the observant young girl, Miss Peverell," he boomed loudly with an impressed nod, the characteristic loudness of his voice reverberating around the room, "Truth be told, I've been feeling rather under the weather for the past month or two," he then revealed to those attentive at the table, "Fortunately, I've been getting a lot better. There's no need to worry since it doesn't feel as if it's anything serious–"
"Yes?" Sirius piped up instantly, obviously not listening to a single thing that was being said as there was still half-eaten food in his mouth, on his plate, and in both of his hands.
Groans and lilting laughter circulated around the table at the sight of the hilariously confused teenager, which in turn caused him to grin madly at the scene even though he had no idea what was going on.
The gentle undulations of merriment soon died down to a peaceful lull, the sound of wayward spoons banging against glass and mellow chatter a welcome change after the sudden burst of excitement in the calmness of the morning.
As morning waned into of the early stages of the afternoon, something peculiar then happened which Ariana did not expect. Something so traumatic, so life-changing, that she'd most certainly never forget it in the never-ending passage of time.
