Hello hello my lovelies!

I just wanted to thank you all for your lovely reviews, and I'm still blown away with all the love shown for this story, seriously, it makes me so happy.

I played around with Cassiopeia and Pollux's ages in this, since canonically they are older than Dorea, but I wanted to make Dorea the eldest in this story. Also I changed a bit of the last chapter since someone was lovely and reminded me that Dorea duelled her Mother for the right to marry Charlus.

Part of me has a clear idea where I am going with this story, and another part has no idea and is winging it all. This chapter was originally not going to exist, but then I thought of it earlier today and it really just seemed to fit? The next chapter will be quite fun I think, but I thought I would address something a little more serious in this chappie. Hopefully I managed to portray what I wanted *fingers crossed*

Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

As always for Sable and Lais xxx


Saturday, April 21st, 1979

Potter Manor

"So sorry I couldn't attend your son's stupid fucking wedding, I was too busy grieving after you murdered my daughter."

"I didn't set out with any ill intent. I didn't wish to hurt Wallie, but I had to protect my family."

"By killing my daughter? Your niece? Your Goddaughter? You were there when she was born, you were there as she grew, you were there for all of it. She is...was my DAUGHTER!"

A snort quickly follows, "Oh please, Pollux. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We both know that some part of you was a bit happy that the miserable thing is gone."

"Fuck off Cassiopeia. You vile, vile witch," Pollux snarls nastily, taking a menacing step towards his sister. "You wouldn't understand. You never had any children, much less loved anyone. Why don't you go back to quenching your boredom by fucking any pretty young men that catch your eye."

No one moves.

Dorea takes a deep breath, perhaps this wasn't the wisest course of action. She thought at least bringing them into the Sun Room, with its vast windows that allow sunlight to pour inside and bathe everyone in its warmth, would help to some extent. She takes another deep breath before indulging in a long drag of her Darjeeling tea.

Dorea knows Pollux is hurting and lashing out, but his wrath should be focused on her, not their sister. Pollux may know a lot, but as the youngest there have been several things he is not privy to. A good chunk of Cassie's past is part of that.

Dorea never complains about her sister's many suitors, she knows that Cassie uses them to run away from the love she lost so tragically all those years ago. Pollux does not know that Cassie was going to leave the Wizarding World for him, Pollux does not know that he died in a horrific fire, nor does he know that Cassie lost the baby she was carrying only a month later.

Cassiopeia flies up from her seat beside Dorea on the loveseat, sparks erupting from the tips of her jaw length raven curls; a wave of pure, raw energy is crackling around her, "no, you fuck off. I suggest you refrain from saying anything further that may cause me to decapitate you."

This is not going well, not in the slightest, Dorea thinks to herself. She wishes that her baby brother wasn't in as much pain as he is, but she can't take back killing Wallie. It is a cold hard fact that she took her niece's life, and she to deal with the repercussions.

She gazes up at her little brother, at the soft edges of his face that had never quite sharpened once he reached manhood, at the dark smudges under his eyes, how the edges of his hairline around his temples seem to have thinned out significantly since she last saw him.

She recalls the light grey eyes that once looked up at her with nothing but love and adoration, but are now swirling with pain, betrayal and a thin stream of hatred. The hatred she can handle, the hurt however, the hurt shreds her insides and leaves her with nothing but guilt and a loathsome feeling she would be glad to be rid of.

"No one is decapitating anyone in my home. Blood is a bitch to wash out," Dorea says softly, rubbing at her temples as she slowly puts her teacup and its saucer down on the short side table beside the loveseat—the china clinking against each other ringing in her ears.

Dorea smooths her palms across her fabric covered thighs—the smooth silk of her black dress like heaven—stopping once she reaches her knees, leaving them to rest across her gentle and supple skin.

"I am sorry about Wallie, Pollux. She...she wasn't well. You know that. You must. Years of dabbling with dark magic and tainted artefacts poisoned her mind," Dorea murmurs, avoiding her brother's gaze—instead choosing to stare at the white to pink gradient of her nails as she dug them into her flesh.

Pollux was only sixteen when Walburga was born, it had been a complete shock to everyone. Violetta of course arranged a hasty wedding during their Christmas Holidays that year as soon as she found out, and Walburga was born in Spring.

"I will never forgive you, Dorea. You murdered my only daughter," Pollux says, devoid of any emotion. Dorea flicks her eyes upwards, and is greeted with his cold, hard expression.

"Does it matter at all to you that she tried to sell one of your grandsons to serve that red eyed bastard? Or that she succeeded with the other?"

Pollux clenches his jaw, his Adam's apple jerking about unevenly. There is a pause, a crinkle of fabric as Cassiopeia sits back down, a hard swallow and then Pollus asks, "why are we here dear sister? Why? Why you've deigned to talk to us after all this time? For years you've neglected us, and then you murder my daughter." Pollux meets her eye directly, and his voice raises violently, "what could you POSSIBLY want with us?"

"Us?" Cassiopeia repeats in an affronted tone, one hand flying to her chest, "sister and I owl each often, and I was here for Christmas last year. Speak for yourself." She purses her lips and impassively gazes at her younger brother.

Pollux ignores Cassiopeia, as if not bothering to even acknowledge the fact that she is still here at all.

"I need your help," Dorea says primly. This was a shite idea, Dorea tells herself as she sees the murderous, pained look in Pollux's eyes. She knows that it is killing him even being in the same room as her. She knows that if their places were reversed, she may have strangled him with her bare hands for even attempting to harm a hair upon James's head. She understands his sea of agony, how he is drowning in the depths of despair. It fills her with self loathing even though she knows that if faced with the same situation again, she shouldn't change a thing.

"Is that so? The Great Dorea Potter needs help from us?"

"Yes. I need your help to defeat the so called 'Dark Lord'," Dorea says.

"Why the fuck would I help you with anything after what you've done?" Pollux asks with a dark sneer, narrowing his eyes as he closes the distance between his sisters and himself, now looming over the both of them—he dwarfs both of his sisters with his great stature. Some of his neatly combed back hair falls out of place into his eyes, giving him a feral aura. "Why shouldn't I exact revenge? Which, might I add, I would be well within my right to do so."

Pollux has lost his centre, and no parent should have to bury their child...though I didn't even leave him with a body to bury. Which was really quite horrid of me. I wasn't exactly thinking about that at the time, Dorea muses as her brother leans forward, his arm moving to grab the lip of the back of the loveseat. Grey eyes cut into grey eyes, she can feel his heavy, hot breath pump from his nostrils in anger as his chest heaves aggressively.

"Because we are family, and as much as you may hate me right now...I need you. I know I cannot ever fix what I did, I know that you will never forgive me, but I want to pave a future for my children, my grandchildren...your grandchildren," Dorea whispers, pouring all of her sorrow and remorse into a single loaded look.

"This is foolish, Dorea. Even for you," Pollux shakes his head as he leans back, partially turning away from her, staring off into the distance.

She had been so preoccupied that she hadn't noticed how the light had been rapidly fading as their conversation progressed, or how the clouds began to clump together and turn an angry, dark colour—appearing as thick and dense as lead. It is only when a gentle pitter patter begins to hit the windows that she realizes that a light drizzle has begun.

"A storm is brewing, Pollux. I know what he is capable of, and I know how to defeat him...the real question is will you join me or not?"

The drizzle quickly thickens into a heavy downpour, seemingly out of nowhere; large pools of water begin to gather in the gardens, and Dorea glances over her shoulder just in time to catch sight of Lily and James chasing each other through the rain. Her darling boy slips and slides straight across a muddy patch of grass and collapses onto the ground, and his wife wastes no time in diving into the muddy grass after him—Lily's fingers covered in mud as she partially lays across him and kisses his lips.

A small smile quirks across Dorea's lips and a warmth blooms in her chest. She stifles a joyous noise—bottling it deep in her gut—as the others run out into the rain and join them.

Sirius is dragging Regulus—who is trying his very best to look as displeased and off put as he can. Remus is carrying Hermione on his shoulders, her hands are reaching up to the heavens and her head is tossed back. Finally, Ron and Harry are smearing heaps of mud across each other with giddy expressions openly displayed across their faces.

Childlike joy pervades all of them, and Dorea can't help but be hopeful that this war won't twist them all into shells of themselves, that when it is all over, they will be able to dance and play in the rain without a care in the world.

Cassiopeia rests her chin on her sister's shoulder before saying, "I will fight with you, sister. Always." Dorea can feel her sister's head pivot in Pollux's direction, ignoring how Cassie's chin is digging into her flesh. She holds her breath as she waits.

"Pollux?" Cassiopeia asks gently, which is nothing like the acid tone she used earlier, it is kind and soft, nothing like Cassie at all. Though Dorea knows that whilst Cassie loves to think herself cruel and uncaring, she has a soft spot for her siblings.

Pollux's gaze is latched onto his grandsons. The temperature in the rooms drops cruelly and a shiver involuntarily taps its way along Dorea's spine. "Fine." He says it so softly, Dorea tells herself that she must have imagined hearing anything at all. That is until he turns to fully face her again, the hatred and pain ever present in his eyes, but there is something else there as well—a tiny glimmer of the love he once felt for her, and just like that a weight is lifted off of her chest. She takes in a large shuddering breath.

"What do you want me to do?"