PROLOGUE: Wicked Memories This Way Comes
Celestius Towers
City of Melbourne, Wizarding Victoria
Wizarding Republic of Australia
Magical Commonwealth of Oceania
1 June 2016
Aurelia was dreaming of her time trapped in her grave in England.
The modified Draught of Living Death that she had dosed herself with was meant to last for three days and three nights. She wasn't supposed to come back to life until she had been dug out of her grave and was safely settled in Australia - but, she had come wake in her coffin.
She'd been trapped within her own grave, buried several meters beneath the earth under a marble headstone in Godric's Hollow.
Spells on the coffin had sealed it shut forever, unable to be reversed and only to be broken when destroyed by a curse-breaker. Wizarding mortuary practices were distinctly different from Muggles and she knew that she'd never get out of the coffin unless Draco was successful in breaking her out.
If he failed, she would die.
If she died, the funeral that had been held after she'd taken the Draught would be her actual funeral - and not the careful, methodically orchestrated deception meant to guarantee that she would be able to escape to her life in Australia, with Draco and their baby.
Aurelia had to trust that Draco would come for her, would come for their baby - or she would never be Aurelia and she would die as the witch whose name was carved in the headstone several meters above ground.
Draco would come for her, he would come for their baby, and they would disappear from Wizarding Britain forever.
Draco had to come, because Britain couldn't have her, Britain couldn't have her baby. Britain wouldn't ever allow her to live the life she'd glimpsed in her brief time overseas...
Aurelia continued to dream.
Deep within a restless sleep, she was unaware of how distantly in the past her time within her own grave was actually was.
Fifteen years and another lifetime ago, she'd been in her grave - but, somehow, her mind had turned against her and convinced her that she had returned.
And this time, there didn't seem to be a way out...
Draco O. Black felt all the tension and stress release from his body, as he stepped from the granite hearth that provided the penthouse with a Floo Connection.
He was finally home.
The uniformed house-elf that had been awaiting his arrival greeted him warmly, accepting his robes and blazer and boots briskly. Draco had stood still and allowed the house-elf to switch out his formal attire and into a comfortable pair of pajamas, before thanking the elf profusely.
The house-elf staff was worth every Galleon they had to paid extra into the lease of the penthouse, for the ability to use the stellar domestic service from the contracted house-elf agency.
Without warning, a memory crossed his mind of Aurelia's once-overzealous activism in favor of house-elf rights.
She'd been something of a nightmare, back then. Fifteen and becoming more integrated into the Wizarding World as a witch with non-magical parents, the person she'd been before she was Aurelia hadn't been familiar with magical customs or creatures - and house-elves had offended her, deeply. He hadn't seen for himself, because they'd not been on anything like friendly terms when they'd been children in school. But he'd certainly heard enough about it. Something about badges and petitions and house-elves boycotting that entire part of the castle in outrage and insult...and, it had apparently been her and her single-minded determination to do what she'd thought was right that had been responsible for it all.
These days, she was a different witch, entirely.
Aurelia Gray Black was not the same girl of his childhood memories.
Not the awkward, overbearing witch with insecurities and expectations as big as her expansive intelligence, the nightmare of a girl who was only tolerated by her two lone friends and very few others - himself included, back then.
If she had remained the same girl of his childhood memories instead of literally giving her life to become Aurelia, she would neither be his wife or the mother of children, ever.
Draco paused in his tired stroll to the kitchen, remembering and trying to forget, all the same.
He must have been more exhausted than he realized, if he were allowing his Occulmency shields to slip hard enough that he could even think so freely about the past - the life when he'd been Draco but not Draco Black and Aurelia had been someone else entirely.
What he needed was a light meal, a quick shower, and to get into bed with his wife. He'd get a few hours of rest, then be awake before their children, ready to spend the very first moment possible with his two sons and twin daughters.
He had missed everything about his wife, their children, and the family they'd built together. There were sincerely no deeper happiness than knowing that he had Aurelia and their children to come home to. For the first time in weeks, Draco would be able to have a lie-in with his wife and enjoy the insular happiness that was their life with their adored children. He could have burst with the happiness that radiated in him, until -
A terrified shriek made his blood run cold.
It had come from the master suite, the bedroom they shared when they had to be here in Melbourne.
Draco could only think the worse as he rushed into the bedroom, tailed by two worried house-elves. All thoughts of peace and contentment fled from him, as he burst into the bedroom and his hoarfrost eyes sought out his wife.
Aurelia was right there, on the bed and alone - but, deeply asleep, sobbing and shrieking with a terror that was familiar to him and he'd do anything to have never known to start with. He already knew what she had to be dreaming about. There was only one thing that she hadn't ever been able to suppress under the strength of the Occlumency skills he'd taught her.
Draco reinforced his own shields so forcefully, there was an ache behind his eyes, as he prepared to wake his wife. He knew what she'd been dreaming of - he only wished that she'd never experienced it and been this scarred by it, all these years later.
"Aurelia, love - think of the ocean and come out of your dream."
Draco hadn't come and he was too late.
Aurelia had been in the coffin for so long, her belly had grown, her baby had grown, and now, she was giving birth. Still in the coffin, still buried in her grave.
The plan had been for her to buried in Godric's Hollow and everyone who had known her before would believe she was dead.
Draco would wait for three days, the exact length of time that it would take for the dosage of Draught she'd been given to expire - then, he would unearth her grave, break the curse of her coffin, and they would be free to escape away from Wizarding Britain, forever.
Together, with their baby and the new life that was promised in Melbourne.
But, Draco hadn't come.
Aurelia began to cry as the familiar pains of labor felt nothing like she remembered and she became afraid.
Perhaps this was her punishment for being selfish and thinking only of her own happiness and what she wanted.
She wasn't supposed to love Draco. She wasn't supposed to have chosen him after only a few months, because of an unexpected pregnancy - the result of an love affair that wasn't supposed to have happened or been possible to start with. Instead of accepting that her parents had died in Australia shortly after she'd sent them there in the summer of 1997 and returning home to Britain, she'd stayed in Australia - and that had put her directly on the unintended path to Draco.
She'd had a whole life waiting for her back in England. Friends, a husband that would be looking to mend their estrangement, in-laws that would be looking forward to grandchildren and family dinners and holidays, a number of offers to be employed or consult with this person or organization as a Charms Mistress. She had been a war heroine and an icon for Muggleborn civil rights, following the end of the war -
And here she was, deliberately faking her death to not be beholden to that life anymore. She was faking her death to flee Britain with Draco, who was estranged from the House of Malfoy and leaving Britain forever...
Aurelia put both her hands on the swell of her pregnant womb.
If she gave birth in a coffin, if she birthed her baby in her grave - what would happen, then?
What would she and her baby do, buried alive and without Draco?
Her baby was coming, the baby she'd never expected but would risk anything to keep protect from those that would not or could not overlook its father or the past -
"Aurelia, love - think of the ocean and come out of your dream."
Aurelia gasped as Draco appeared alongside of her in the coffin, in defiance of the confines of the narrow space, just as securely in the grave as she was.
The only difference was, Draco was older.
Instead of the haunted, determined young wizard in his early twenties that he'd been when they'd been shocked by the discovery of her pregnancy, Draco laid beside her in the coffin - a bearded and powerful wizard of nearly forty years old. Her husband, the father of her adored baby -
Her babies.
All four of her precious children.
Her older son, her twin daughters, and her youngest son.
Corvus. Cordelia and Vega. Scorpius.
She had been pregnant with Corvus, when she'd had to await Draco and his impossible rescue of her from her own grave -
But now, Corvus was nearly fifteen. Her son, her precious Corvus was an adolescent, which meant her time trapped the grave had been nearly fifteen years ago.
A memory.
An event from the past that she'd already experienced and couldn't possibly be living out right now, in this moment.
Something shifted in the dream.
"Draco?"
"I'm here, love. I'm here, both in the dream and out of it. But, you have to come out of the dream yourself." Draco pressed a kiss to her mouth, the pressure of his lips against hers enough to make the dream shift again. "I'm here now and I'll be here when you wake. Come out of your dream, Aurelia."
Draco began to fade and taking a deep breath, Aurelia allowed herself to begin fading with him. From there, the coffin dissolved into nothingness, her grave reforming and reshaping itself into the glittering waves of the harbor that had been her first home in Australia, the ocean that was familiar to her and her chosen Occlumency shield.
Gradually, the ocean faded, as well, and with a gasp, Aurelia opened her eyes, sitting up as swiftly and shakily.
As promised in the dream, Draco was there.
Aurelia had stretched across the bed and somehow fallen asleep and Draco was laying right there beside her, his hoarfrost-gray eyes widen with barely supressed panic.
His hands were cradling her face tenderly and with concern.
"I'm here, Auri," soothed Draco and Aurelia allowed herself to be brought closer into his steadying embrace. "I'm here, love. You did well, pulling yourself from your night terror."
Aurelia focused on steadying her breathing, her heart thundering in her chest.
"I fell asleep without raising my shields," Aurelia mumbled regretfully into the soft cotton of his pajama top. "If I'd have remembered my shields, I wouldn't have..."
Draco shushed her, not unkindly.
"Occlumency is more difficult when you're tired, love. You know that. Don't be so hard on yourself." Draco was running his hands through her impossibly wild curls, tenderly and affectionately, soothingly.
Aurelia allowed herself several moments of simply being held by her husband, feeling as always the simple awe that she was able to do so and that her nightmare had been only that - a night terror.
A terrible imagining of what could have been, fifteen years ago, if Draco hadn't have arrived and hadn't have been able to successfully follow through with their incredulous plan.
Those terrifying few minutes inside her coffin after coming out of the Draught of Living Death faster than Draco had been able to curse-break...
Those few minutes had lasted briefly, but the terror had stuck with her for a lifetime, it seemed. Of all the things she'd experienced so far in life, the unthinkable experience of being trapped alive in her own grave, pregnant with her first child and afraid that Draco had failed...it was the terror that stuck with her the most, the one that she still couldn't shake after all these years.
Occlumency helped with the nightmares and had done wonders for her mental health. The times when her Occlumency slipped were the times that she realized the most how helpful the skill Draco had taught her had been, over the past decade and a half.
"I must have fallen asleep whilst finalizing the plans for yours and the twins' birthday dinner this weekend." Aurelia offered, after a long stretch of soothing silence. "I sat down to braid my hair before my bath...and, I guess I must have fallen asleep. I certainly didn't to my exercises, as you can see..."
Draco leaned her head back silently, kissing her mouth soundly. As in the dream, the connection of their mouth was a familiar and comforting pressure that reminded her that all of this was real.
"You must have worked yourself into a state, then." Draco said, after a few more soft kisses. "Whatever you haven't done, I'll take care of in the morning, Yes, even for my own birthday dinner," he quickly said, forestalling the deep breath that warned of an argument, "because right now, we are going to rest. We, as in you and I, together. I'll braid your hair for you and we can take a bath together, then sleep. How's that sound?"
It wasn't an offer so much as it was a well-meaning bossing her about, but Aurelia smiled in wordless agreement.
While still held securely in the embrace of her strong arms, Aurelia enjoyed his gentle hands as they swept her riotous curls into a neat, efficient braid that could be wound into a comfortable bun and out of her face for the night. Their twin daughters had inherited her hair, so he had mastered the skill of braiding when their girls were still small. Draco was an incredibly hands-on husband and father and even after all this time, Aurelia still marveled at this side of Draco she'd never would have imagined existing, when they were children.
If the experiences of her childhood and adolescence in Wizarding Britain had forever changed her and been the catalyst of becoming someone she'd never thought possible, the same could be said tenfold for Draco.
The gentleman wizard he'd grown into and the person he was as her husband and mate was unrecognizable from the corrupted boy she'd known from their youth, who'd seen the inside of Azkaban for his misguided choices -
And, not for the first time, Aurelia was glad that they'd both taken this risk.
If she hadn't risked it all to start a new life with Draco and the child they unexpectedly shared between them, Draco wouldn't have honored her bravery with devotion, abandoning everything and choosing Aurelia and their growing family and atonement, above all.
Fifteen years of marriage, four children, thriving careers, and new friends within their very welcoming magical community in southern Australia. A new life that she could have never had as a Muggleborn witch in her past of Wizarding Britain...
Aurelia couldn't find it in her to regret anything.
The past was in the past, there was nothing but the present, and as they had discovered many times over the years, the future could be whatever she and Draco chose.
Aurelia allowed herself to be lead to the bath, where she enjoyed a soak with her husband, and pushed the unsettling feelings of her nightmare from her mind, for good.
There was nothing she needed to worry about nor anything she would allow her to worry about.
She was with Draco, they had their children, and nothing from their past could ever touch their impossible and sacred family again.
Seven hundred kilometers away in Sydney, a clerk in the International Post Services division of the Department of Communication of the Magical Congress of Australia received an odd letter.
The letter seemed positively ancient, on yellowing parchment with sand-dried bright green ink.
"Check out the age on this thing," the clerk declared to his co-worker beside him, who was tending to her own steady stream of international owl post and parcels. "This is on parchment! Who uses parchment, anymore?"
The witch clerk snickered. "Where's the address coming from? That'll tell you whose still living in the sixteenth century."
The wizard clerk read the writing upon the envelope.
"Er, let's see here - it is addressed to a Territorian who lives in Conjure Pointe. A Scorpius Black, who lives in the Attic Bedroom, The Blackpointe Manor, Conjure Pointe, Northern Territory, Wizarding Republic of Australia." The clerk blinked. "Now, that's creepy. All that detail to where this bloke lives, but doesn't say a thing about where it comes from. Oh, wait - there's a seal here." The wizard clerk turned the letter over, noticing the red seal. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where is that?"
The witch clerk wrinkled her nose. "Wizarding Britain," the witch murmured, as if the letter her coworker held was suddenly contaminated. "I guess what they say is true. They really do live suspended in time, from when the Statute of Secrecy went into affect. They're still using parchment, as if Muggles haven't come up with a billion better alternatives to that stuff. They really are anti-Muggle, all these centuries after the Statute, I guess..."
The wizard waved his hand, dismissively. "Well, their use of writing material aside - Hogwarts is a school, yes?"
The witch frowned. "The only school of theirs, from what I understand. There's no other schools except for Hogwarts and that's secondary school. They don't have nurseries or primaries, day school or universities, or anything else. It's just...that one place."
"That's rather...draconic, but alright. So, if Hogwarts is their school, this must be correspondence of one of our expats."
"Makes sense," said the witch clerk, turning her attention back to her stream of post being filtered through the sensors and wards. "From what my mum told me, their civil wars over the past few decades had a lot of expats from Wizarding Britain settle here in the Commonwealth. There are more in the New Zealand Territory than here in the Republic, but there are decent numbered communities here..."
With a shrug, the wizard clerk was satisfied that he'd done his due diligence beyond the confirmation of harmlessness from the sensors.
"Makes sense to me, too, then." The wizard clerk dropped the letter in the outbox chute that would filter the mail down into the owlery. "One letter off to the Northern Territory for an expat named Scorpion Black or something or another..."
The letter went off down the chute and the wizard clerk looked at his coworker, thoughtfully.
"What else do you know about Wizarding Britain? I'm a newblood, of course, my parents are Non-Magicals..."