Chapter 1
She tossed it onto the kitchen table as if it was going to bite her. A casual observer would hardly be able to understand why a piece of paper would alarm a thirty-three year old woman. But Aurora Walsh was no ordinary woman. And the piece of paper was a piece of parchment that forced her to remember the life and past she left behind fifteen years ago.
Aurora held her head in her hands and stared at the parchment. The sight of the owl at her window was enough to make her heart start beating fast. When she realized it was indeed an owl post, she nearly lost it. After all these years, why? After all this rebuilding, who would walk in and bring back the worst parts of her life? It seemed as though it took her hours to finally pick up the letter and read it more thoroughly. With her hands trembling, she opened the letter, noticing the red seal of her alma mater.
Dear Ms. Walsh,
I realize that quite a few years have passed since I have had the pleasure of speaking with you. I know that you cut yourself off from our world many years ago. However, I do believe that it is important that you know the current state of the Ministry and our world. Aurora, I know it still hurts and I mean to cause you no pain, but it is imperative that I meet with you. If you are inclined to meet with me, then please apparate to Number 12, Grimmauld Place at 7:00 p.m. this Saturday. If you choose not to come, then never mention this address to anyone and destroy this letter. Please give it some thought. I hope all is well with you.
Sincerely,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
What do I do? What do I do? A small part of Aurora's mind told her that she should forget it and pretend that this letter never happened. She couldn't do that, though. She owed him the favor of meeting with him. Two days, she thought, two days till I face my demons from the past.
********************************************************
Saturday afternoon found Aurora digging through boxes in the back of her closet. Her trendy London flat was great for being close to work but it left her little room for storage. She was afraid to rent a storage facility for fear that someone might break in and learn her secret. So, she stored all the pieces of her past in the back of her bedroom closet. As she rifled through the cardboard containers, she purposefully ignored the things that beckoned to her the most. The envelopes of pictures, the diaries, and birthday cards sent to her in happier times would only serve to remind her of the things she had hidden from for fifteen years.
Pulling out an old set of robes, she dusted them off to see if they needed washing or not. Finally, she realized that this would have to be one of the few times she relented against her promise to her self. She walked to her dresser and pulled out a long thin object and pointed it at the robes. After a few whispered words, they hung clean and pressed, looking as if they were new.
She stepped into the shower and tried to let the hot water sooth her nerves. Automatically, she went about bathing and tried to block out the thoughts of where she was returning. This will set me back about two years of self-prescribed therapy, Aurora mumbled under her breath. She lathered her rose scented shampoo into her long curls and rinsed out the suds. I really should get it cut, she pondered. She rarely wore it down these days. Too old for this long hair, who am I kidding, Aurora thought.
Her long wheat colored ringlets had been her trademark all those years ago. The shiny blond curls attracted attention from so many people. Even now on the few times she left it down to go to the office, she garnered compliments on her hair. Her hairdresser had actually refused to cut it the one time she gathered enough courage to ask for its length to be cut. As she stepped from the shower, she grabbed a fluffy white towel and began to ring the water out of her hair. She dressed in her robes for the first time since she walked out of the Ministry's office and swore she was leaving. Realizing that she only had ten minutes before she had to apparate, she grabbed her wand and muttered a few grooming spells. Instantly, she appeared in the mirror with shiny dry curls and just a hint of makeup. Oh well, she thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. Why not break all my rules?
She closed her eyes and prepared to return to what she had tried so hard to leave behind. As she concentrated on apparating correctly, a memory flashed before her eyes. A memory of an eleven year old girl, boarding a train and heading off to a universe that would become her home until she abandoned it a few years later.
**********************************
Aurora walked up to the doorknocker with an eerie feeling of déjà vu`. Had she been here before? Why did it seem so familiar? Banging on the door three times, she waited for someone to answer the door. As she debated running away, the heavy door creaked open as a young boy looked at her bewilderedly.
"Hullo," she greeted him. "I'm Aurora Walsh. I was supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore at seven."
"Oh, sorry 'bout that," he smiled. "I forgot. I'm Harry by the way, Harry Potter." And in that instant it clicked. She saw the eyes and the messy hair and her heart constricted in her chest. His hair flicked to the side and showed the infamous scar. The scar that changed so many lives.
Harry frowned slightly as he watched her stare at his forehead. How he hated it when people did that! He waved his hand in front of eyes and she blinked quickly.
"Before you ask, that's my scar. Yes, he did it. No, I don't understand why I lived and my mum and dad didn't," he mouthed off. "Any other thoughts I can answer for you?"
"Only how you came to look so much like your father," Aurora whispered. "Or how Lily's eyes could have been so perfectly recreated on another human being."
Harry blanched at her mention of his parents. "You knew my parents?" Aurora nodded to him, unable to fund her voice. "When?"
"At Hogwarts," she replied softly. "We-," she began before a silver haired man walked into the room and caused her to pause.
"Were the best of friends," Albus Dumbledore finished for her. "Harry, I know you may have had your curiosity peaked, but I need to speak to Miss Walsh alone." Harry nodded and left the room. Aurora turned and attempted a smile to her former headmaster. "Hello Aurora, you are looking well."
"It's nice to see you again, Prof. Dumbledore," she responded with a sad smile. "It's been a while."
"Fifteen years in fact," the old wizard stated. "Long enough for some scars to have faded, Aurora. Long enough for you to rejoin our world."
"Why?" she nearly yelled. "I left for a reason. I left because it was what was best for me."
"You left because you were afraid," Prof. Dumbledore said quietly. "We need you, Aurora. He has returned. And you owe it to so many people."
"Like who?" she cried. "Do I owe it to those that betrayed my trust? All the muggles get to sleep at night without a worry in their head. I want to be them. I don't want to look to come back."
"Would you really be happy in blissful ignorance?" Dumbledore asked her.
"It has worked so far. For fifteen years, it has gotten me through life," she answered him. "What more can I ask for?"
"A true life," he replied. "It is time for you to start living again, Aurora, rather than simply existing."
"I don't want a happy life, I want peace," she began. "I tried the happiness route, I can remember where that got me."
"And I guess that was all my fault," a third voice asked. "So convenient to blame your misery on my, isn't it, Aurora?" As recognition swept over her, she slowly turned to face the biggest ghost in her past. She began to shake as her mind finally realized that he the person standing before her was not a dream.
"Sirius," she whispered.
"The one and only," he snarled.
"What are you doing here?" she said as her voice broke. "Professor Dumbledore, why? What is going on? This is not happening." She swayed for a second as she tried to compose herself.
"Sirius, help me get her into a chair," the headmaster gently requested.
"Why should I?" he barked. "She turned her back on me, why in Merlin's beard should I care about her? Let her hit the floor. Then maybe she will know what it was like all those nights I slept on a cold stone floor in Azkaban."
Something in his cold words unleashed a fury in Aurora. She straightened up and raced across the room and stared in disgust at the dark haired wizard from her past.
"You bloody jerk, you deserve that cold stone floor," she screamed. "You killed them, James and Lily. And then Peter, poor defenseless Peter. I don't understand what is going on here. This is a nightmare. What hasn't he been turned in, Professor Dumbledore?"
"Because he is innocent," Harry stated matter of factly. "He didn't do it." Aurora turned to find the teenager standing in the doorway. "He didn't do it," Harry repeated. "And above everyone, I should care the most about that shouldn't I?"
"Harry, I," she began, "What is going on here?" Turning to Dumbledore she asked, "What is everyone talking about? I have to sit down, I.I feel weak," she stammered. Dumbledore conjured a small squishy sofa and guided Aurora over to it to sit down.
"Aurora, I know that this must all be a shock to you," Dumbledore said quietly. "There is so much for you to know. We need you back, Aurora. Voldemort has returned." Aurora sat there in a state of disbelief. Before her stood all that she had escaped from fifteen years ago. Sirius couldn't look at her. Dumbledore kindly laid his hand on her arm and gave her a small smile. "You aren't a muggle, no matter how much you would like to be."
"I need time," she replied. "I don't know what is going on. May I lie down somewhere, Professor?"
"Certainly, my dear," he told her as he rose from the couch. "Harry, would you please take Ms. Walsh to a room upstairs where she might have a lie down?" Harry smiled at her and directed her to follow him upstairs. Aurora drew herself up off the chair and followed the gangly young man. Even with his recent growth spurt, Aurora was still taller than Harry.
"Are you feeling okay Miss Walsh?" Harry asked.
"Call me Aurora. I hate being called Miss Walsh," she told him. "You look so much like your father that it is odd to hear Miss Walsh come out of your mouth. James called me many things but Miss Walsh was never one of them."
"You knew my dad, didn't you?" he said, more as statement than a question. "And my mum? You had to knew Remus and Sirius too, then?"
"Yes, I was at Hogwarts with all of them," Aurora evasively replied. "I was a couple of years behind them, but I knew them." Harry got the distinct feeling that she wanted nothing more than to lie down and get away from all these questions. The look in her eyes had gone all distant and misty. Women, he thought, how in the world can you ever understand them?
"Well, I'll leave you be," he told her. "Mrs. Weasley will probably make dinner soon. Someone will call for everyone and you're welcome to join us." She smiled her thanks and turned to go into the room. Walking over to the bed, she plopped down and laid her head on the pillow. She closed her eyes and willed all the memories to go away.
She tossed it onto the kitchen table as if it was going to bite her. A casual observer would hardly be able to understand why a piece of paper would alarm a thirty-three year old woman. But Aurora Walsh was no ordinary woman. And the piece of paper was a piece of parchment that forced her to remember the life and past she left behind fifteen years ago.
Aurora held her head in her hands and stared at the parchment. The sight of the owl at her window was enough to make her heart start beating fast. When she realized it was indeed an owl post, she nearly lost it. After all these years, why? After all this rebuilding, who would walk in and bring back the worst parts of her life? It seemed as though it took her hours to finally pick up the letter and read it more thoroughly. With her hands trembling, she opened the letter, noticing the red seal of her alma mater.
Dear Ms. Walsh,
I realize that quite a few years have passed since I have had the pleasure of speaking with you. I know that you cut yourself off from our world many years ago. However, I do believe that it is important that you know the current state of the Ministry and our world. Aurora, I know it still hurts and I mean to cause you no pain, but it is imperative that I meet with you. If you are inclined to meet with me, then please apparate to Number 12, Grimmauld Place at 7:00 p.m. this Saturday. If you choose not to come, then never mention this address to anyone and destroy this letter. Please give it some thought. I hope all is well with you.
Sincerely,
Prof. Albus Dumbledore
What do I do? What do I do? A small part of Aurora's mind told her that she should forget it and pretend that this letter never happened. She couldn't do that, though. She owed him the favor of meeting with him. Two days, she thought, two days till I face my demons from the past.
********************************************************
Saturday afternoon found Aurora digging through boxes in the back of her closet. Her trendy London flat was great for being close to work but it left her little room for storage. She was afraid to rent a storage facility for fear that someone might break in and learn her secret. So, she stored all the pieces of her past in the back of her bedroom closet. As she rifled through the cardboard containers, she purposefully ignored the things that beckoned to her the most. The envelopes of pictures, the diaries, and birthday cards sent to her in happier times would only serve to remind her of the things she had hidden from for fifteen years.
Pulling out an old set of robes, she dusted them off to see if they needed washing or not. Finally, she realized that this would have to be one of the few times she relented against her promise to her self. She walked to her dresser and pulled out a long thin object and pointed it at the robes. After a few whispered words, they hung clean and pressed, looking as if they were new.
She stepped into the shower and tried to let the hot water sooth her nerves. Automatically, she went about bathing and tried to block out the thoughts of where she was returning. This will set me back about two years of self-prescribed therapy, Aurora mumbled under her breath. She lathered her rose scented shampoo into her long curls and rinsed out the suds. I really should get it cut, she pondered. She rarely wore it down these days. Too old for this long hair, who am I kidding, Aurora thought.
Her long wheat colored ringlets had been her trademark all those years ago. The shiny blond curls attracted attention from so many people. Even now on the few times she left it down to go to the office, she garnered compliments on her hair. Her hairdresser had actually refused to cut it the one time she gathered enough courage to ask for its length to be cut. As she stepped from the shower, she grabbed a fluffy white towel and began to ring the water out of her hair. She dressed in her robes for the first time since she walked out of the Ministry's office and swore she was leaving. Realizing that she only had ten minutes before she had to apparate, she grabbed her wand and muttered a few grooming spells. Instantly, she appeared in the mirror with shiny dry curls and just a hint of makeup. Oh well, she thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. Why not break all my rules?
She closed her eyes and prepared to return to what she had tried so hard to leave behind. As she concentrated on apparating correctly, a memory flashed before her eyes. A memory of an eleven year old girl, boarding a train and heading off to a universe that would become her home until she abandoned it a few years later.
**********************************
Aurora walked up to the doorknocker with an eerie feeling of déjà vu`. Had she been here before? Why did it seem so familiar? Banging on the door three times, she waited for someone to answer the door. As she debated running away, the heavy door creaked open as a young boy looked at her bewilderedly.
"Hullo," she greeted him. "I'm Aurora Walsh. I was supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore at seven."
"Oh, sorry 'bout that," he smiled. "I forgot. I'm Harry by the way, Harry Potter." And in that instant it clicked. She saw the eyes and the messy hair and her heart constricted in her chest. His hair flicked to the side and showed the infamous scar. The scar that changed so many lives.
Harry frowned slightly as he watched her stare at his forehead. How he hated it when people did that! He waved his hand in front of eyes and she blinked quickly.
"Before you ask, that's my scar. Yes, he did it. No, I don't understand why I lived and my mum and dad didn't," he mouthed off. "Any other thoughts I can answer for you?"
"Only how you came to look so much like your father," Aurora whispered. "Or how Lily's eyes could have been so perfectly recreated on another human being."
Harry blanched at her mention of his parents. "You knew my parents?" Aurora nodded to him, unable to fund her voice. "When?"
"At Hogwarts," she replied softly. "We-," she began before a silver haired man walked into the room and caused her to pause.
"Were the best of friends," Albus Dumbledore finished for her. "Harry, I know you may have had your curiosity peaked, but I need to speak to Miss Walsh alone." Harry nodded and left the room. Aurora turned and attempted a smile to her former headmaster. "Hello Aurora, you are looking well."
"It's nice to see you again, Prof. Dumbledore," she responded with a sad smile. "It's been a while."
"Fifteen years in fact," the old wizard stated. "Long enough for some scars to have faded, Aurora. Long enough for you to rejoin our world."
"Why?" she nearly yelled. "I left for a reason. I left because it was what was best for me."
"You left because you were afraid," Prof. Dumbledore said quietly. "We need you, Aurora. He has returned. And you owe it to so many people."
"Like who?" she cried. "Do I owe it to those that betrayed my trust? All the muggles get to sleep at night without a worry in their head. I want to be them. I don't want to look to come back."
"Would you really be happy in blissful ignorance?" Dumbledore asked her.
"It has worked so far. For fifteen years, it has gotten me through life," she answered him. "What more can I ask for?"
"A true life," he replied. "It is time for you to start living again, Aurora, rather than simply existing."
"I don't want a happy life, I want peace," she began. "I tried the happiness route, I can remember where that got me."
"And I guess that was all my fault," a third voice asked. "So convenient to blame your misery on my, isn't it, Aurora?" As recognition swept over her, she slowly turned to face the biggest ghost in her past. She began to shake as her mind finally realized that he the person standing before her was not a dream.
"Sirius," she whispered.
"The one and only," he snarled.
"What are you doing here?" she said as her voice broke. "Professor Dumbledore, why? What is going on? This is not happening." She swayed for a second as she tried to compose herself.
"Sirius, help me get her into a chair," the headmaster gently requested.
"Why should I?" he barked. "She turned her back on me, why in Merlin's beard should I care about her? Let her hit the floor. Then maybe she will know what it was like all those nights I slept on a cold stone floor in Azkaban."
Something in his cold words unleashed a fury in Aurora. She straightened up and raced across the room and stared in disgust at the dark haired wizard from her past.
"You bloody jerk, you deserve that cold stone floor," she screamed. "You killed them, James and Lily. And then Peter, poor defenseless Peter. I don't understand what is going on here. This is a nightmare. What hasn't he been turned in, Professor Dumbledore?"
"Because he is innocent," Harry stated matter of factly. "He didn't do it." Aurora turned to find the teenager standing in the doorway. "He didn't do it," Harry repeated. "And above everyone, I should care the most about that shouldn't I?"
"Harry, I," she began, "What is going on here?" Turning to Dumbledore she asked, "What is everyone talking about? I have to sit down, I.I feel weak," she stammered. Dumbledore conjured a small squishy sofa and guided Aurora over to it to sit down.
"Aurora, I know that this must all be a shock to you," Dumbledore said quietly. "There is so much for you to know. We need you back, Aurora. Voldemort has returned." Aurora sat there in a state of disbelief. Before her stood all that she had escaped from fifteen years ago. Sirius couldn't look at her. Dumbledore kindly laid his hand on her arm and gave her a small smile. "You aren't a muggle, no matter how much you would like to be."
"I need time," she replied. "I don't know what is going on. May I lie down somewhere, Professor?"
"Certainly, my dear," he told her as he rose from the couch. "Harry, would you please take Ms. Walsh to a room upstairs where she might have a lie down?" Harry smiled at her and directed her to follow him upstairs. Aurora drew herself up off the chair and followed the gangly young man. Even with his recent growth spurt, Aurora was still taller than Harry.
"Are you feeling okay Miss Walsh?" Harry asked.
"Call me Aurora. I hate being called Miss Walsh," she told him. "You look so much like your father that it is odd to hear Miss Walsh come out of your mouth. James called me many things but Miss Walsh was never one of them."
"You knew my dad, didn't you?" he said, more as statement than a question. "And my mum? You had to knew Remus and Sirius too, then?"
"Yes, I was at Hogwarts with all of them," Aurora evasively replied. "I was a couple of years behind them, but I knew them." Harry got the distinct feeling that she wanted nothing more than to lie down and get away from all these questions. The look in her eyes had gone all distant and misty. Women, he thought, how in the world can you ever understand them?
"Well, I'll leave you be," he told her. "Mrs. Weasley will probably make dinner soon. Someone will call for everyone and you're welcome to join us." She smiled her thanks and turned to go into the room. Walking over to the bed, she plopped down and laid her head on the pillow. She closed her eyes and willed all the memories to go away.