Aster

I told Harry I found him and now I never felt so lost.

I woke up in bed wishing I could knock myself out and see Harry again. Godric knew Mum was not going to let me near a broom anytime soon.

It was Dad's idea, the broom. Mum was against it at first, but Uncle Moony talked her around eventually. It wasn't even my birthday; Dad just felt like teaching me how to ride a broom all of a sudden.

I bet Mum telling Dad about my 'hypothetically trauma-based perfect memory' played a role.

Mum and Dad were obsessed with giving me what they called a "safe and normal childhood". As normal being stuck inside the wards of an estate with monthly visits to a hospital was normal, anyway.

Whenever Uncle Moony caught up with my parents he never mentioned other kids who were stuck behind their wards. Well, except for that one Neville kid. Most of Mum and Dad's friends were enrolling their kids in the new primaries for magical children, shopping at the newest shops in Horizont Alley, or going on tours at the creature sanctuary in Merlin's Wilds.

I was stuck at home. Homeschool by Mum, Dad, and Uncle Moony as if we were those traditionalists Mum complained about whenever she read the Daily Prophet. I've never gone on a shopping trip or visited a creature sanctuary.

Mum and Dad cared more about giving me a "safe childhood" than giving me a normal one.

So I jumped at the chance to learn how to ride a broomstick, even though part of me wanted to tell Dad it didn't matter knowing how to ride a broomstick if I never got to fly with any other kids. The thought of finally doing something risky was exciting.

That's when it happened.

I tried to listen when Dad said not to go too fast or go too far since I was on a real broom, not a training one, (Mum was afraid of someone tampering with anything Dad went out to buy), but flying was so much fun! I didn't notice the songbird until I was already speeding toward it and I tried to stop and turn out of the way. I turned the broom and missed the bird but flew right into my home's wards instead. The front end of the broom and my face smacked loudly against the curved magic dome surrounding my home and jolted me off the broom.

I passed out before I hit the ground. At least, that's what I think happened.

I fell off the broom and then I was suddenly looking through someone else's eyes—Harry's eyes. It was blurry at first, then I saw a toilet, then a door locking, then the eyes turned to the mirror.

Harry was truly my twin, we looked so much alike. He had the same messy black hair, mouth, and nose from Dad. The only differences were his red eye and his straight-line scar, though maybe his other eye was normally green and not gold? Harry seemed surprised when he saw his face.

Tears filled my eyes when I thought back to how my brother looked in that small, dingy bathroom. Harry's clothes were covered in dirt and so were his hands. His skin seemed tanned and… was that a bruise blossoming on his arm? Was he being worked to the bone outdoors? Did someone hit him?

I remembered seeing Harry lock the door to the bathroom and thanked whatever gave me my perfect memory that I caught that quick moment. Who locks themselves in to the loo? Did Harry not feel safe wherever he was? My brother felt some need to lock himself in and that was not a fun thought.

Harry seemed in more pain than just the bruise on his arm and breathed harshly during most of our talk, too. He was so angry and didn't even trust that I was telling him the truth! What terrible things happened to make my twin so distrusting of others?

I sobbed aloud and Mum quickly burst into the room to hug me, reminding me that I was back in my own head. "Everything's all right, Aster honey, you're safe, I've got you," Mum whispered into my hair, rubbing my back in small circles. "I'm sorry, I should have been here when you woke up."

I shook my head in Mum's arms, unwilling to explain the real reason for my tears. Did Mum know? Did she know what would happen after Harry was sent wherever they sent him? Did Dad know? If they knew Harry was suffering and still left him there… or if they didn't know… but what if they found out Harry was suffering and still thought it was more important to keep Harry away?

I couldn't stand any of these lines of thought.

The only bright side was remembering they way Harry spoke. He sounded so smart. There was a word he used I didn't recognize.

I shouldn't be surprised, though. Harry was the real miracle child, so of course he was smarter than me. His red eye was cool, too! It looked like a dragon's eye. Or a snake's eye, but dragons were cooler so it must be a dragon eye.

The thought brought a smile to my face and my tears settled down. Mum's hand on my back reminded me that I was still in her arms and I wriggled out of her hug.

"Thanks, Mum, I feel better now," I said, face red from her fussing. I put on my glasses after wiping my eyes. It wasn't even a big crash! None of my bones broke.

Mum huffed and ruffled my hair. "Well, your Dad is beside himself; as he should be for letting you ride that accursed twig inside the wards!"

"There was a bird, Mum," I replied, wondering what to say to explain my tears, "I didn't want to hurt it. It's not Dad's fault, I just… never experienced anything like that before."

"My sweet flower," Mum said sadly, cupping my face with her hand and running her thumb under my golden eye. My stomach twisted a little realizing she thought I acted heroic; like the Boy-Who-Lived.

My face scrunched up and I reared back. "Ew, Mum! That's not cool!" I said, knowing better to react to the flower nickname than to what really bothered me.

With a chuckle, Mum got up and idly smoothed out the blankets covering me. "I'll let your Dad and Uncle Remus know you're awake," she said, and left the room.

Looking around, I was glad Mum and Dad were so stubborn about keeping me home as much as possible since it meant they didn't take me to St. Mungo's after the accident. Out of the corner of my eye one of my clothes drawers caught my attention. The pajamas drawer was slightly open and not how I left it earlier. I checked my outfit, and sure enough I was dressed in the red and gold Gryffindor pajamas, Dad's favorite set.

I sighed, hoping Mum was there when Dad took out the clothes for me. The Gryffindor set was in the middle of the second stack of clothes in that drawer and Dad never re-folded my clothes when he dug through my drawers. I didn't like not knowing what clothes were where in my drawers when I usually knew where everything was in my room all the time.

My breath hitched as I looked at my dresser of clothes. Did Harry even have pajamas? Did he only have that one set of dirt-covered clothes? I remembered seeing a couple of sewn-on patches on his shirt. When was the last time Harry owned anything new? Harry didn't have glasses like I did, either. Was that because he didn't need them or because no one ever gave him any?

I was right about to start crying again when Dad walked into the room.

"Hey, Fawnster, how're you holding up?" he asked as he sat where Mum was a short while ago.

I cracked a smile, determined not to cry like a little kid again. "That was crazy, huh, Dad?" From the creases in his brow I could tell Dad was actually really upset about what happened.

As I thought, Dad frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Your mother was right, kiddo, I should've been more careful." Dad always looked so uncomfortable when he apologized. His face scrunched up and his eyes look so sad behind his glasses.

"It's ok! Now I know to look out for birds, and I'll remember where the wards are for next time."

Dad's face quickly smoothed out as he laughed. "Those were some fast reflexes, Fawnster, it'll be brilliant when Lily lets me break out the Quidditch gear." I schooled my face and nodded along as Dad went into his usual ramblings about how great Quidditch was with the added commentary of what positions he thought I would be good for now that he'd seen me on a proper broom.

My thoughts were still focused on Harry, though. How was I going to find Harry? How would I event get to where he was once I found him if I couldn't get through the wards? How did I hit the wards, anyway? Weren't they just for keeping things from coming inside?

"Dad?" I asked, and only after speaking up did I realize I interrupted my own father. I never did that. Bugger, what if he realizes something's wrong? What if he figures out that I'm planning something?

Before I could truly panic, Dad's shocked face settled into a gentle smile and he ruffled my hair. "What is it, Aster? I'm sorry, you just had your first proper broom accident," (what did Dad mean by first…?!) "I should give you time to settle down before diving into all the Quidditch talk."

"Mum always said I ramble on just like you," I joked, glad Dad wasn't mad at me for interrupting. I looked down at my blanket scrunched up tight in my hands. When did I do that? I relaxed my hands and turned back to Dad. "Why did I hit the wards, Dad? Don't you walk through the wards all the time?"

The answering grimace on Dad's face made me both happy and worried. Whenever Dad prepared to lie to me or say I "wasn't old enough to hear the answer yet", he would grin while his eyebrows bunched up as if his face hurt. Dad's grimace was the face he wore when he was about to say something Mum was going to yell at him for saying later but actually answered my question.

"The wards are that way to protect you, son," Dad started, putting his hand on my shoulder. "If you can't walk out of the wards, no one can carry you out of them either."

I shivered as I remembered when that almost happened.

I was five, then, our family newly moved into another house in another neighborhood after reporters discovered our last home. Again. I remembered waddling into the living room, knowing I'd find Mum sitting in the armchair by the window facing the front of the house. She sat there every time Dad left to fight bad people; watching and waiting for him to return home. There was a book in her hands, though by now I knew she never read it as she never turned a page and the book was open to the same spot it was the day before.

Back then I was curious because Mum seemed more worried than usual, her hands trembling as they clutched her book with white knuckles. "Mummy," at my small voice her face whipped around towards me, startled away from the window, "when's Daddy coming home?"

"Soon, flower bud, soon." Mum looked as if she was trying to convince herself more than trying to convince me. "Your father is out trying to find some really really bad people today, so he has to work extra hard and extra long before coming home this time."

My younger self nodded, though at the time I only understood that we needed to wait for a bit longer. I climbed into Mum's lap, forcing her to put her unread book off to the side and we both stared out the window.

Out in the night, I saw something move up the street. A lone streetlight lit the area in front of our house, and soon a figure walked to the edge of the light. A hat cast shadows across the being's face and I, the foolish little five-year-old I was at the time, yelled out, "Daddy's home!" and ran to the door before Mum could react.

The moment I stepped out the door, the figure shot forward with inhuman speed and lifted me in the air by my neck. Pure human instinct told me to grab at the hand choking me, trying to get enough room to breathe, my throat desperately trying to scream for help.

"I've done it!" The figure cried out, its hat flying off its head as it cackled madly. Fangs were glistening along its wide grin, skin pale, and face gaunt. My current self knew it was a vampire. My younger self only knew it was a very scary being that was not Dad.

"I've done it," the vampire repeated, bringing my face closer to his. The cold fingers of the vampire's free hand roamed over my face as he whispered, "I've caught Aster Potter! They say you're the Boy-Who-Lived, the Miracle Child, the Pure Embodiment of Light… You survived a Killing Curse, so maybe… maybe if I drink your blood, I'll be free!" As I stared into the eyes of the being that wanted to murder me, I saw a manic gleam there. "I didn't choose to be a monster!" it yelled hoarsely, shaking me in the air.

"Relashio! Molliare!"

"Stupefy! Incarcifors!"

Breath rushed through my lungs as Mum's and Dad's spells hit their targets. Mum made the vampire let me go then softened the ground beneath me before I landed. Dad knocked the vampire out before he transfigured the vampire's hat into a cage to surround the being.

After that Mum grabbed me and took me back inside the house before I saw anything else. I saw enough, though, and I wouldn't forget. I couldn't forget. Each time I went over that memory I felt the fear and pain as clearly as the first time. Each time I noticed more details like how the vampire appeared young –maybe only a few years older than I am now— and how deep beneath the manic gleam in his eyes I could see sadness, anger, and desperation.

As I blinked back to the present, I saw the moment when Dad connected the dots between my perfect memory and what he said. The blood drained from Dad's face and I hurried to make him feel better. "It's ok, Dad, honest." My parents babied me enough; I didn't need Dad running off to tell Mum they needed to be even more careful around me! "You saved me, I'm fine. I've been fine this whole time."

Thankfully, Uncle Moony chose this moment to step in the doorway of my bedroom. "Prongs? Bud? It's getting late; I'm about to head out."

Dad shot up off the bed and hugged Uncle Moony, rapidly saying, "Moony! Great! I'm going to go chat with Lily and you can say hi- say goodbye to Fawnster here, and I'll check in, um, catch up with you in a bit." He fled from the room.

Uncle Moony raised an eyebrow at me as he conjured a chair to sit in next to my bed. "What spooked him this time?"

I crossed my arms and looked away, grumbling, "He knows I remember the vampire."

My uncle sighed. "Ah, I see." Uncle Moony was the one who taught me what a vampire was after I woke up from a nightmare about the attack and wouldn't talk to Mum or Dad about it. That was when he told me he was a werewolf to stop my younger self from declaring all vampires as evil monsters. Now that I thought about it, Uncle Moony knew I remembered that for a long time now… we talked about the attack in detail more than once…

"Uncle Moony, did you know I remember things really well?" He stiffened and he paused long enough that I got my answer, but it didn't make sense. "Why didn't you say anything to Mum and Dad?"

Moments passed and I wondered if Uncle Moony would answer me. After looking me over, he must have seen something in my face since he nodded then took a deep breath. "Aster," and that was alarming; Uncle Moony rarely called me by my name, "I wish this weren't the case but you're a public figure, and… I told you a little bit about it, but I know what that's like." I opened my mouth to respond but he raised a hand and stopped me. "I'll explain more soon, I promise. What I want you to know right now is that I am here for you, Aster, however you need me, and I won't say anything to your parents if you don't want me to. I wish you could trust your parents are there for you, too."

Memories flashed by as if writing a list inside my head of every time I asked Mum or Dad questions and they shrugged me off with a half answer. The most I usually got was that something was "for my protection", or I overheard Dad telling Mum that "Albus said so" the few times Dad and Mum argued about whatever question I asked. Uncle Moony was the one who really answered my questions. I knew Mum and Dad cared, but they treated me like a little kid still. I was nine! I would be ten in a few months! That's double digits!

Harry popped back up in my mind. If anyone could help me figure out how the accident brought me to Harry, it would be Uncle Moony. I didn't want to let any of the grown-ups realize I was looking for Harry, though (just in case they decided to hide him somewhere else), but maybe Uncle Moony knew how I traveled into my brother's mind.

"Have you ever hit your head before?" I asked, hoping my question didn't seem too random.

Uncle Moony laughed and said, "Yes, definitely. Back at Hogwarts your dad and I got into so much mischief we got our heads knocked around a time or two."

"Did you ever go somewhere after? In your head?"

Amber eyes blinked at the question for a second before Uncle Moony asked, "You mean like a dream? I certainly remember having a weird dream after your dad accidentally bumped me into a tree once. Thought I was suddenly on the moon chasing bunnies made of cheese!"

Was my talk with Harry all a dream? No it couldn't be, I haven't seen my twin since I was a baby! Could I really just dream him up like that? "In a dream do you ever see people you haven't seen in a long time?"

"Did you dream about the vampire again? It's ok if you did, we talked about this. It doesn't mean you're not strong or anything like that. It's normal, bud."

I shook my head and waved my hands impatiently. "No, nothing like that, just… do you? Ever see people in your dreams like that?"

Uncle Moony narrowed his eyes at me and I was afraid he would keep asking about the vampire. Luckily, he didn't. "Well, yes, I guess so. I've had dreams about some friends from school I haven't seen in years if that's what you mean."

That was not what I wanted to hear. Maybe I did really have a weird dream? But it felt so real! I never even knew about Harry's red eye either! Was that proof enough? I couldn't ask about his eye, though, it would be too obvious I was asking about Harry. I couldn't lie, either, that would be bad and I still need to be the good Boy-Who-Lived; the honest, brave, smart miracle child until I got Harry back. Until the real hero came home.

"When you have dreams with people and they talk to you, can dream people use words you've never heard before? Can you learn something new about them?"

The moment Uncle Moony whispered, "That's not possible," I was ecstatic. I knew it! My talk with Harry was real. Now I needed to go over my memory of our talk and see if I could pick up any clues on where Harry was or figure out how to hit my head and go see my brother again. I barely noticed when my uncle told me to get some rest and left the room.

It was moments later that the look on Uncle Moony's face when he left the room flashed through my mind. He was really pale, and his eyes were wide just like when Dad realized I still remembered the vampire attack.

Oh no.

Did I say too much? Did Uncle Moony figure out I was asking about Harry somehow? I jumped out of bed and rushed to the door, wishing with all my heart that my uncle was still in the hallway.

The hallway was dark and empty and my parents' bedroom door was open across the way, the room just as dark and empty. Down the hall I saw light coming from downstairs and I tiptoed to the top of the stairwell. Over the side of the stairs I saw our fireplace burning brightly, the top of the doorway blocking my view of most of the living room. The legs of Mum, Dad, and Uncle Moony were standing in front of the fire.

Dad was stomping in a way that meant he was yelling but the house was dead silent. Why was now the one time my parents remembered to put up a silencing charm?

I went over to my parents' room, determined to know what the grown-ups were talking about. My memory served me well as I walked through the pitch-black room easily and made my way to Dad's bedside table. There next to Dad's glasses case was his Two-Way Mirror, or more accurately, his improved Multi-Way Mirror. Dad kept calling it a Two-Way Mirror even though Mum figured out how to connect more than two mirrors to each other years ago. Right now only up to seven mirrors could connect to each other, but Mum was determined to find out how to charm all Multi-Way Mirrors to be able to talk to each other like how Muggles used telephones.

Nowadays Dad mainly used his Multi-Way Mirror for his Auror work, but I knew it was still connected to Uncle Moony's and Mum's mirrors. Those were the first ones Mum charmed, after all. I also knew that Mum kept her mirror propped up on her desk with all of her Charms research. Keeping the mirror facing the dark room, I whispered Mum's name to the mirror and hoped no one noticed when Mum's mirror went from reflecting everything to showing darkness.

The soft crackling of the fireplace came out of the mirror and I resisted the urge to flip the mirror around to see what was going on in the living room. Did the conversation end already? Were my parents coming upstairs soon?

Suddenly, Mum's voice asked softly, "Is this normal?" Great, they were still talking. What was Mum asking about, though? Why did she sound so worried?

"We'd have to ask Fabian and Gideon," Uncle Moony's voice replied, "or Molly—I heard she has twins a few years older than Aster and Harry." My heart dropped and tears gathered in my eyes hearing Uncle Moony say my brother's name. I always knew they were keeping Harry a secret from me, but it hurt finally knowing for sure. They knew and they didn't tell me!

"If this is hurting them, I can't let this go, James." Mum's voice angrily chopping through the air sent a shiver down my spine and froze my tears.

Dad let out a tired sigh. I focused all of my attention on hearing the conversation play out, knowing that when Dad sighed like that after Mum used her angry voice a fierce, fast-paced argument was sure to follow. "You know why I did it, Lily. Albus said—"

"It's been almost nineyears! Isn't that enough time to tell if Harry will be all right?"

"He won't be Harry anymore if we—"

"You don't know that! And that didn't mean you had to take Harry all the way to the Isles of Scilly!"

"They can't be near each other!"

"If it's really that important, can't Sirius still raise him?"

"I'm not letting that traitor near my son!"

"Harry is our son! You can shove Albus' theories up your bloody—"

"Lily. Prongs." I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Uncle Moony finally cut in. Mum and Dad's love for each other could warm the heart of a Dementor but their arguments could steal a Dementor's job they were so scary. With a slow deep breath I tried to calm my racing heart so I could hear Uncle Moony's next words. "Let me reach out to the Prewett twins first and let you know what I find out. If these 'dreams' only happen when Aster falls unconscious, we only have to make sure that doesn't happen again. Maybe that means Harry's never fallen unconscious before this, too."

"Okay," Mum said. "Thank you, Remus."

"I don't know what we'd do without you, Moony. Be careful, ok? They can't find out."

"Of course, Prongs. I've kept Harry's secret all this time, I can keep it for a while longer."

The sound of Uncle Moony using the Floo reminded me of where I was, and I quickly turned off the Multi-Way Mirror. I put the mirror back on Dad's bedside table and hurried over to my room. The flood of information threatened to drown me, but I could replay the entire argument in my mind later. Nothing else mattered in light of the fact that I now knew where Harry was.

The Isles of Scilly.

The sound of Mum's and Dad's whispers told me they were coming up the stairs and I quickly burrowed under my covers.

"This hurts me too, Lily, I swear it." Dad's voice stopped in the hallway between my parents' room and mine.

Mum scoffed. "You chose Albus' word over your own flesh and blood, James. Never forget that you took that choice from me."

I heard them move into their bedroom and let out the breath I was holding. Moving quietly, I changed out of the Gryffindor pajamas into dark blue trousers and a black long-sleeve shirt. Darker colors were stealthier, and I didn't want to go see Harry in pajamas. That would be so uncool. I gathered up some clothes and molded my bed into what I looked like curled up under the covers. Mum took a picture of me sleeping last year in that weird way Dad said all mothers take too many pictures of their kids, so I used that memory to guide me.

Energy buzzed through my body. There was no way I was going to sleep tonight. Mum was mad right now but what if Dad convinced her to keep Harry away? Or even move him somewhere else? Like Mum said, almost nine years passed, and she left Harry out in the Isles of Scilly that entire time. How would I get to him, though? Should I go to Sirius, to Uncle Padfoot?

The thought of Uncle Padfoot tore a hole somewhere inside me and I felt numb and empty. Tonight was the first time anyone mentioned Uncle Padfoot since the attack by the scary man, the same night Dad sent Harry away. The next day the papers were full of wild stories about how I survived the Killing Curse and Dad blamed Uncle Padfoot. I remembered my toddler self crying terribly as Dad yelled to Uncle Moony about Uncle Padfoot spilling my secret to the world as some sort of revenge. Uncle Moony Flooed to Uncle Padfoot's that day to try and find out the truth but came back without Uncle Padfoot and in tears. It was the only time I ever saw Uncle Moony cry. No one mentioned Uncle Padfoot again and I thought he really was a bad person if it was his fault everyone thought I was the Boy-Who-Lived.

Could he really be a bad person if Mum wanted Uncle Padfoot to raise Harry? That at least meant Uncle Padfoot was better than wherever Harry was now, right? It was so hard to know what to believe right now but I wanted to save Harry. I couldn't trust Dad or Mum not to just send Harry back if I brought my brother here.

I needed some way to get to the Isles of Scilly, wherever that was anyway, and Uncle Padfoot was also my best chance of getting there. I didn't know how to Apparate and the bump on my head proved I couldn't fly out either. Thinking back to Healer Hell days, I figured out the rest of my plan. I might not be able to walk out of the wards but I Flooed to Healer Hell regularly. That was my way out.

The hallway outside my bedroom was silent and dark, and no light spilled from under my parents' bedroom door. Good. Mum and Dad would hopefully be too busy ignoring each other for the night to hear me sneak out.

I carried my shoes in my hands as I quietly moved down the hall to the staircase. Once at the stairs I wracked my brain for every memory of every squeak I ever made on the stairs to try and avoid every spot. The journey down the stairs felt so slow but I would not be caught tonight. My head was starting to hurt, and it was hard to tell if it was from the bump on the outside of my head or from the strain of combing through so many memories so thoroughly. I needed to keep going. Harry needed me. I could do this.

Eventually I made it to the living room. The fire was out, but Mum was a Charms Mistress who specialized in adding Muggle convenience to the Wizarding World. There was a switch on the top of the mantelpiece next to the jar of Floo powder that set off a small Incendio charm inside the fireplace. I put my shoes on and carried over one of the cushions from the couch so I could reach the mantelpiece. I carefully tipped some Floo powder into my right hand and used my closed fist to flick the switch to light up the fireplace.

Immediately the toes of my right foot felt hot and I stumbled back off the cushion. The corner of the cushion started to darken, and I scrambled to pull the cushion away from the fireplace with my free hand. With a wince I wedged the cushion back onto the couch so that the darkened corner was mostly hidden. For a terrifying moment I thought I made too much noise and my parents would come rushing down the stairs.

There were so many ways this could go wrong. What if Uncle Padfoot changed the name of his home since the last time Uncle Moony went to try and talk to him? What if Uncle Padfoot didn't listen to me? Did he care about Harry anymore? I shook my head roughly, throwing away the scary thoughts. This had to work. I tossed the Floo powder into the lit fireplace and stepped into the green flames.

I tucked my arms to my sides, closed my eyes, and carefully breathed in through my nose before clearly saying, "Padfoot's Place!"