Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 9, Round 4.
Prompt: Coven
Optional Prompts: [dialogue] "I feel like perhaps I am not being taken seriously"
[word] priority
[word] venture
Word Count: 2166
pure magic
A black owl flies into the window of the dining room of Potter Manor and lands neatly on the table. Dorea Potter née Black unties a letter from the owl's legs, and feeds it a treat. It flies over to the perch by the window, its beady eyes staring straight at the two people sitting at the table.
Dorea opens the envelope, and pulls out the piece of parchment within. She unfolds it, and begins to read out loud:
To Mum and Dad,
Hope you're doing well! Lily sends her greetings, by the way. She's currently on bedrest.
Our child's two months along already! Seems like forever. Sirius keeps popping in and demanding to be its godfather. I told him the last time he came that if he kept badgering us about it, I'd make Remus the baby's godfather.
Not that I'd ever do that, of course. Remus would make sure that the baby would love books, just like Lily. My child must be a proper baby Marauder, and I'll never forgive myself if it grows up a bookworm!
We've successfully moved into Potter Cottage. Lily keeps complaining about unpacking everything (though that's just because she does it the Muggle way). It's already starting to feel like home! But I'll always miss Potter Manor.
Dumbledore wants us to go into hiding, using the Fidelius Charm, and I have to say, I agree with him. The threat of Voldemort's getting bigger and bigger, and I don't know whether we'll survive this. But we'll hold out hope, though the odds are terrible for us.
Hope you're well!
Your son, James
"Fidelius?" says Charlus Potter from beside Dorea. "That's a serious matter."
"I know it is," responds Dorea. "But -"
Just then, a deafening boom shakes the foundation of Potter Manor, and together, husband and wife freeze. They don't even dare to breathe. Both of their wands slide neatly into their hands, and they slowly turn to face the dining room's door.
"No," says Charlus, his breathing coming out fast and erratic. "No, it can't be! The Manor's warded too well!"
"People think we are dead!" cries Dorea. "We had a funeral and everything!"
But...
The Black family tapestry would show whether they were alive or not.
The Black family tapestry was frequently looked at by Dark-aligned Blacks.
They know.
They know, and they are coming.
"What do we do?" Charlus panics.
Dorea doesn't reply. Her gaze is fixed on the door. She grips her wand tighter, her knuckles turning white.
Then the door slams open with an almighty crash. A crowd of black-hooded wizards come streaming in. Dorea's already pale face loses more of its color, and she mentally plans the most painful curses that she can think of, and begins casting them with a speed that she did not know that she possessed before.
Beside her, Charlus is doing the same, though Dorea's curses are much better than his. She was a Black before she became a Potter, after all. And Blacks were vicious.
However, the Death Eaters are not to be deterred. Dorea's mysterious contact tells her that they are all from Dark families, with no regard for the laws. They know that their identities won't be discovered.
Dorea fights, but in the end she and her husband are overwhelmed. Despite their magical power, the Death Eaters' numbers outnumber them by a lot. They don't stand a chance.
So Dorea does the only thing she can think of, as battle rages, as spells fly left and right.
She flees.
She flees to her sister Cassiopeia Black's home in France, not looking back at Potter Manor. She wants to cry but doesn't let the tears fall. Later.
She can hear the Death Eaters' laughter from inside the house, her husband's screams - she puts her hands over her ears and tries to block it out - the portraits' shrieks, the house-elves' panicked shouts. She doesn't look back but she can feel it when Potter Manor burns red, red, red, flames overtaking it. She knows that the Death Eaters have accomplished their mission.
Seventy five meters from Potter Manor, a single tear drops onto the floor, a single, glistening tear. A tear of heartache, of pain, of sadness, of grief, of loss.
The trail of tears continue, shimmering and glistening on the ground. Dorea runs, runs from her home, her husband, her tears. Finally, when she is two hundred meters from Potter Manor, she Apparates.
Cassiopeia Black might have broken away from her family, she might be a little absent-minded at times, but at heart, she is a Black. Which is why the moment a woman looking exactly like her dead sister, Dorea, comes skidding into her potions lab Cassiopeia's wand is out, and some liquid sloshes out of the cauldron that she had been making her potion in.
Cassiopeia darts forward, as quick as a cheetah, and presses her wand to the Dorea lookalike's threat.
"Who are you?"
The Dorea lookalike merely smiles at her, completely unfazed. "I am Dorea Potter, previously Black. You are Cassiopeia Black, and you moved to France three months after you finished Hogwarts."
Hell, even her voice is the same.
"Public information," says Cassiopeia dismissively. "Who is my House Elf?"
"Pippy, who was also your nanny elf."
Cassiopeia's hand begins to tremble. "Who - who did I date in third year?" she asks shakily.
"You dated Fleamont Potter, but broke it off because Pollux nearly caught you."
At this, Cassiopeia breaks. Her wand clatters to the floor, and she embraces Dorea, crying. "Where were you? I thought that you were dead? I was at your funeral!"
"That was fake," says Dorea. "It was for protection."
"You could have told me."
"We couldn't risk it, Cassie." says Dorea softly. "I trust you, I always have and I always will. But still...it was too dangerous."
"You're telling me that you trust me, but you don't trust me not to tell." Cassiopeia says, clearly upset.
"No, Cassie. Please." Dorea stares, imploringly, into her sister's eyes.
"Fine," Cassiopeia says grumpily after a short silence. She conjures a chair for herself, and one for Dorea, and sits down. "But you're going to explain."
"Cassie, look at this." Dorea waves a book in her sister's face.
Cassiopeia and Dorea are sitting in Cassiopeia's messy bedroom, both reading books. It has been five days since Dorea arrived. Since then, she and Cassiopeia had decided: they must defeat Voldemort.
Why? He's causing too much trouble. He has recruited several prominent Black family members to join his cause, a worthless cause. Regulus, poor Regulus, died in Voldemort's service. Voldemort is indirectly destroying the Black name and the respect that came with it. Dorea might be estranged from her family, but she is, after all, a Black. She will not let this slide by, unnoticed. They have to do something. For the past few days, they have been attempting to find
"What?" Cassiopeia murmurs distracted, flipping another page of the book in her lap.
Dorea sighs, and snatches Cassiopeia's books away from her. "Look!" Dorea repeats, waving her book in the air.
Cassiopeia reads the page in front of her for a minute, then her eyes widen. "A coven? Dorea -"
"Why not?" Dorea demands. "This book says how to create one, and I'm sure we can find some ritual books in the library. It only needs seven members. Me, you, Andromeda, Cedrella, Lucretia, Callidora, perhaps."
"That's only six, and that's if they all agree."
Dorea drums her fingers on the arm of her chair. "Alexia?" she considers.
"And if Alexia doesn't agree?"
"Narcissa?"
"No, Narcissa is a bit stuck-up. I don't like her. Cygnus brought her to visit me once."
"Okay, then. Me, you, Andromeda, Cedrella, Lucretia, Callidora, and Alexia. We'll invite them to Black Chateau, where we'll talk."
"I say we create a coven."
It's been a week and a half since Dorea arrived at Cassiopeia's home, and now five witches are listening intently to them. They were surprised, to say the least, when they found out that Dorea was, in fact, alive, and still some are staring at her. Dorea is quickly getting tired of it.
She's already outlined the problem that is Voldemort. She's presented her idea. Now, Dorea is waiting for the other Black witches' verdict.
Then, quite suddenly, Cedrella laughs, Alexia and Lucretia joining in.
"I feel like perhaps I am not being taken seriously." says Dorea, her expression completely, utterly serious.
"Of course you're not," Andromeda chortles. "A coven. A coven! My, Aunt Dorea, you must be going senile."
"I am not!"
The shout startles everyone, including Cassiopeia, and all of them stare at Dorea in shock. Then finally, Lucretia breaks the silence.
"You're serious?"
"Say we agree. Then what'll happen?"
"It is our priority to kill Voldemort. If we do not, Voldemort shall sweep destruction on this world, and annihilate everything we've ever worked for. I know that even you, Andromeda, care for the future of our house. Voldemort's done many horrible things. He - he-"
At this point Dorea gets so choked up that she cannot talk. Tears start to stream down her face. Cassiopeia thumps her back unhelpfully, and says, "He killed her husband. It's part of the reason why she wants revenge. She wants to kill Voldemort, and I agree with her. He's been wreaking havoc for too long."
A silence, then -
"But we don't know what to do." Andromeda says, and Dorea smirks, wiping away her tears, because this is the question that she has been waiting for.
"To grow and better ourselves, we must venture out into the unknown, must we not?" asks Dorea. "There is so much knowledge and power waiting out there, undiscovered. We refuse to acknowledge the fact that we do not know all of magic's secrets. We are scared of stepping into an area of which we have no knowledge. But to develop and evolve, we must discover new things, use them and bring a new era to the Wizarding World."
Silence greets her words. Dorea holds her breath, and she can practically feel Cassiopeia's anticipation radiating off her.
What will they choose?
It is a game, a game that might seem harmless and silly at first but will become dangerous and fatal. The final choice could end the world, or it could begin a new era.
It is like Dorea has been missing something all her life, and she's only just found what it is. She holds her breath, fingers thrumming on the arms of her chair faster than ever.
What will they choose?
The fate of the world might be depending on this moment.
Then the silence is broken with a voice, and the word that that voice says is beautiful to Dorea.
"Yes."
They begin their chant slowly and steadily, like the hum of a lone bumblebee. They repeat the same words over and over again until their voices grow hoarse, and, at last, after what seems like days, the outer circle begins to glow blue.
They keep chanting, quicker this time. Then, suddenly, a kind of shimmering blue fabric-like material bursts out of the outer circle. It looks like a veil as it expands, streaking into the air.
Then it arches, and forms a glowing dome, casting a dim, ethereal light on the floor. As one, everyone looks up, but Dorea gestures at them wildly to not be distracted.
They return to the chant slightly guiltily, and finally, after a few minutes -
The necklace that Cassiopeia had placed in the center of the circle to channel their magic shatters, becoming a million pieces, all of the shards flying towards the walls of the dome, where they embed themselves, smoothing out until they become a part of the dome -
Then, only a moment later, black smoke appears, encircling them, encasing them. Then it flies towards the ceiling of the dome, swirling there like a whirlpool. Dorea inhales sharply.
They keep chanting, with a rapid increase in excitement. It feels like hours, though it is only a few minutes, before an almighty gust of wind, nearly toppling them over, arrives, from outside the circle -
But this isn't a normal gust of wind. Dorea can feel the magic, pure magic, rushing at them -
Then the wave of pure magic breaks into the circle, and starts to flow steadily around them. From beside Dorea, Cassiopeia gasps loudly.
They can feel it, feel the magic humming in their veins reaching out to join the waves of magic flowing around them. It's a wonderful feeling, peaceful and relaxed, like the feeling you get when you're under the Imperius Curse but more free -
Then, gasps echo around the circle of witches. The waves of magic have come together, forming seven balls, going right into their chests -
For a second, they all glow. Then the glow dims, the dome fades, and they are left standing in an empty chalk circle.
"Wow," Andromeda breathes.
"Wow," Cassiopeia echoes.
"It was magic," says Dorea. "It was pure magic."