Death watched as his Charge and her kin embraced. Finally things were moving on; the girl would no longer flounder under the miseries of being under the roof of the Dursleys, she had a secure home to call her own, complete with loving family member. His sentries, too, had provided much comfort and guidance already, although perhaps not to be wholly seen in the Living Plane.
The emotional reaction from the Old One was a pleasant surprise - and Death didn't usually like surprises, as quite often it meant things were Not Going To Plan. Yet seeing the ferocity in his anger at Dumbledore was appeasing. Too long had that mean sought out the Hallows, things that did not belong to him. Him and that other radical Grendelwald.
Of course, Death was aware that Dumbledore abhorred the prejudices and war that tore the Wizarding World apart seemingly every decade. He championed their supposed Muggleborns, their Magical Borns, and Others. Well, he did now, and he had only seemingly realised the effect of his isolating a House simply due to its notorious previous members. Death was aware that his suspicion of the Slytherin House was not the only precursor to the steady increase of fanatics in the Green House, but it understandably aided in decisions of the more uncertain followers.
A prime example of this was Severus Snape. A true Slytherin in which the Founder no doubt would be pleased with. True, he was a dastardly and unpleasant man, but he had proven he could overcome such faults. When he had the chance.
Which he was currently only to do so in private moments by himself or his esteemed colleagues. Even with his friendship of Lord Blondilocks he had a persona to keep. But, watching Snape now, one could see his harsh image blur into something smoother. Not soft, no, never soft, but his patience in steering the young Malfoy Lordling to the current next step in Potions, as he was doing now, showed a prospect of him being something more than he showed.
He was both looking forward to and dreading the moment in which he would meet his Annointed. And if there was going to be an extra shadow lurking in the dim that was the dungeons of Hogwarts, well, that would hardly be remarkable in an enchanted castle.
It was a long while before Aster and Ifan drew themselves apart, and when they did there was only a minimal feeling of awkwardness before Ifan sported a bright grin and dragged her with him to the kitchen.
"Now, I don't know if you're familiar with House Elves - ah, that's a no then - but we only have two, the ones who I spoke to you off. Eppy and Jospo. Don't be alarmed by their - er, outbursts - at things we take for granted. Thanking them tends to be a major issue with other homes but they're used to it from me. But asking for their opinions on things still warrants a load of bowing and stuff...no matter what I do." He scratched the back of his neck as they arrived at the door, "this is just to forewarn you, don't worry."
And with a smile he turned the door knob, opening the door to a flagstoned floor with two large fireplaces, one with a long spit, and the other with a metal shelf resting a ways up from the flames. A stretch of counters covered one wall, with an open door which seemed to be a pantry, and a range oven looking thing. A long table was situated in the middle with rickety wooden chairs and a candelabra placed on top of an open weave table mat.
The older of the two was sitting at a beat up armchair by the fire, peeling vegetables with a narrow eyed stare, and the younger flittering about the room, shoving bread in the range, and moved about the pantry to pull out a variety of ingredients.
"Jospo, Eppy. I'd like to introduce you to our newest family member: Aster." Ifan gently prodded her forwards, as the two Elves stopped and stared. Eppy immediately threw the jar she was holding behind her - which her father stopped from breaking with a snap of his fingers - and ran to her new Mistress. Jospo in turn seemed to have found a new ability to move quickly and was soon by their side too.
They were...peculiar looking. Bulbous yellow tinted hazel eyes stared up at Aster adoringly, Eppy wearing a small yellow gingham dress, her hair being akin to something as her pixie cut bordering on a bob. Jospo wore worn brown trousers with a dirt streaked linen top, his tufts of hair a shock of white. They barely came up to Aster's hip, which was impressive considering how short she was, but they seemed to vibrate with happiness at her arrival.
"Err...hi?"
"Oh Miss Asty! Its a pleasure to sees you again!" Eppy cried, clutchering her hands to her chest, and rocked side to side. Beside her, her father nodded his agreement vigorously, reminding Aster of those nodding dogs that people put in their cars.
Before she could reply - wondering when they had actually met before - she was promptly dragged into the kitchen proper and pushed into one of the seats at the table. Ifan moved to sit opposite her with an amused express as he saw how his hyperactive Elf buzz about putting together tea, coffee and hot chocolate along with an array of biscuits, cake and bread. Jospo in turn shuffled to his side of the room searching for something before he slowly returned, holding a bunch of wildflowers in his hand.
"For the you Miss." He shyly murmured, thrusting the bunch into Aster's face. She blinked in shock before accepting them with an equally shy smile and muttered thanks. Before freezing as the two Elves stopped in turn, staring at her.
"Oh! Miss Asty is so good to us Elvsies!" Eppy cried, throwing herself into her father's arms as they both wept.
Aster looked at her grandfather in alarm, only just realising what he meant by outbursts, wondering how the hell does she make them stop?!
Ifan's mouth twitched at the scene and the accidental projection of her thought. He couldn't help but wonder if that was a sign of her heritage as Fae or an innate skill at the Mind Arts. Either way, it was bloody funny.
Clearing his throat and rolling his eyes he said to the two sobbing Elves, "I thought I managed to get you both to know that being thanked is something you don't need to be surprised at."
"Oh we know Mister Master! But to have someone new to bes like you and thanks us! Oh! Miss Asty is such a good Miss!" Jospo cried as Eppy nodded much alike how her father did earlier and blew her nose on a conjured handkerchief.
With that he ushered them back on track, allowing them to do their work, or if they so pleased, could sit and talk with them. After much debate (meaning that Ifan had to persuade them that they could in fact sit and talk to Aster) it was agreed they would do their duties while getting to know their new Mistress.
Blinking at the rapid turn of events, she timidly brought a mug of hot chocolate and tea to herself. She had only hot chocolate once before, when the school took them out on a Christmas walk and on their return made them out of hot water from the kettle. If that one tasted nice, this one was utterly decadent. She had no idea what Eppy did with it but it tasted like it was made with a mix of milk and cream with actual chocolate turned inside it.
Even the tea was resplendent. Now, she loved tea as much as the next British person, especially as it was the one recurring drink other than water she was allowed at the Dursleys. This blend however settled on her tongue like a hug, and she was happy that only needing her usual splash of milk was enough to temper the bitterness. It settled into her stomach and warmed her to her toes. It was now definitively her favourite.
The coffee she sipped at but wrinkled her nose at the smell as it reminded her strongly of Uncle Vernon, which Eppy seemed to accept solemnly. Ifan was just reaching for a cup when it disappeared from in front of him, Eppy standing there with her hands on her hips. Apparently he could now only have coffee when Miss Asty wasn't there, rolling his eyes again he acquiesced and slid a cup of tea instead.
The two Elves absorbed everything about Aster, from what she said, to her movements. They learned a lot about her in the short time she sat there, taking in the homely environment that Jospo and Eppy took pride in cultivating, despite the time of Ifan's isolation.
They found, to Eppy's delight, that she loved warmed bread and she nearly died in glee when Miss Asty said that she could quite happily eat that and nothing else.
Jospo, in turn, was exuberant at the news that she too loved gardening, and would love if he could walk her through the lands (after seeking permitting from Mister Master with a timid request).
Aster looked fascinated at how the two of them worked around each other to make the meals, each one becoming more full than the last. It wasn't until the clock on the mantlepiece struck eight that she realised she had sat there with a full stomach and droopy eyelids that she had spent an entire afternoon in a kitchen where she didn't need to do anything.
At her fourth yawn in nearly as many minutes, Ifan ushered her out of the kitchen and into the parlour. She moved to the sofa where he pulled a blanket over her, and Binky jumped up beside her, pushing against her leg.
Ifan watched out of the corner of his eye as she looked around her again, taking in all the details before straying back to the group of three photos and staring at them unblinkedly.
"They can interact with you, you know. Well, to a limited degree at least." He told her, resting his head on his fist, his crossed leg bouncing.
Aster glanced at him before gazing up at the frames in a heartbreaking look of hope. He twitched a smile before he levitated the frame of her parents holding her towards her.
She drank in the faces of all three of them, and irrationally felt a smidgen of jealousy at her own baby self for being held. She swiped a thumb across the glass, watching as the photograph versions of Lily and James' faces softened at her, her dad's brow furrowing in concern as her mum smiled sadly at her. It wasn't until a drop of water fell on to the frame that she realised she was crying.
At the sight of her tears, Ifan knelt beside her on the floor, and hesitated at placing his hand on hers. At the contact however, Aster curled her small fingers around his palm, clutching at him. She turned to look at him, her eyelashes looking even blacker with her tears.
"Why'd they have to die? Why'd they leave me?" She begged, her breath hitching in her throat as her eyes burned with tears.
Ifan stoked her hair with his free hand and shook his head. "I don't have all the answers, merch i mi. But I will try to find out. I only have more questions than answers right now. All I can say now is that they didn't want to leave you. They didn't want you to be on your own. They love you, even now in death." The brim of tears that she managed to hold back finally gave way at his words as a sob tore out of her throat. Ifan immediately shifted so that he could sit on sofa with her, moving her so that she sat on his lap, letting her borrow her head in his chest. He held her tightly, carding his hand through her hair and soothing her to prevent her becoming hysterical.
It was a while before Aster's breath stopped panting and her sobs turned to sniffles. She hadn't realised how bad she was holding everything in, how badly she just needed someone to be there for her. Although Ifan was practically a stranger to her, she knew more about him than she did her aunt she had lived with for a decade.
She tentively stuck her hand out to Binky, noticing for the first time how he had perched himself so that his head and left front paw rested on her leg as she cried. She scratched behind his ears, gaining a slow blink and headbutt before settling down again.
Gulping she reached out to the tea that she saw sitting there before taking a gulp and then grimacing at the tepid temperature. Ifan chuckled.
"I think a new cup is in order." Aster blinked, then blushed before trying to find a way to get off him without disturbing Binky or making things awkward. Ifan seemed to know what her aim was and smoothly transitioned it so that she sat with her back against the arm and her legs stretched out before he sat back in his chair.
Figuring she wouldn't want to talk about what just occurred, he decided to broach a topic he had been hoping to leave for longer as he got things settled. "I- I've been in talks with Gringrotts, Griphook to be precise. I've requested - well more demanded - that your parents' portraits be released from the Potter Family Vault. I've been told you're aware that you could only access the Vault itself on your majority, however I felt this ...boon would be better given now. They agreed.
"Do you know what Magical Portraits are? No? It is similar to the photographs that you're holding, as in they are animated. They also hold more of a, an essence than a simple photograph. The most expensive ones tend to have what appears to be a sentience to them. From my understanding, the Potter family was - is - an exceedingly wealthy line. As such, when the portraits of Lily and James were commissioned, I imagine theirs were on this level. I'm just waiting for Griphook's permission for these to be removed and sent to us. I was hoping to surprise you with them, in case that Goblins proved themselves to be, well, Goblins and not give you false hope."
Aster looked at him, hope shining anew, knowing that from he said, even knowing that once she comes of age and knowing they'll be there was relieving, and she seemed to have enough photos of them in the chest for at least basic interactions. It was more than she had than she could ever remember.
After their discussion, Aster felt exhausted. Her bones felt stiff and ache like she was fifty years older than she was, her throat scratched and was hoarse when she spoke, and her eyes felt gunky. Seeing that she was dead on her feet, he walked her to her room, waited for her to get ready for bed before tucking her in and closing the door.
Aster looked through the darkness, amazed at her turn of events. Just over two weeks ago she had been shut in a cupboard terrified for her life, not being able to rely on anyone. Now she laid in a soft bed, in a room of her own, with a cat sprawled at her feet and a crow nestling on her bedside cabinet, two Elves who seemed to love her on sight - but maybe best of all - a grandfather who would take her tears, tuck her into bed and kiss her on the forehead.
The next few days were spent in relative peace compared to Aster's first evening at Mynydd Hall. Ifan allowed her to explore as he sent correspondences out to a variety of people, ducked in and out of the fireplace (Flooing he called it) and used the scrying table.
When he had the time he would patiently introduce Aster to things that others would take for granted - how to use her parchment sheafs and knives best, how to actually write with a quill (it felt really weird compared to the biros or pencils from school), and how to clean her wand to ensure it stayed properly cared for.
He would sit her down and go through other things which based more on her heritage. He explained more in depth how Hogwarts worked; that it was the most known school in Britain for Witches and Wizards. At her question on whether he attended there, he shook his head.
"No, Hogwarts is for Wizardkind and not Others. There have been exceptions to this, although not many and always in secret." He told her patiently, making her frown.
"Well that's rubbish. Where'd you go then?"
"As a Child I was taught by mother, but for a more...recognised education, as an adult I went to Bannermere Hall. Its long been used as an institution that would help Fae be recognised in Wizarding society. It is not as prestigious as it once was however, as pure Fae - meaning only of Fae blood - is rather redundant now and most Children are also of either Muggle or Wizarding blood. There are smaller schools dotted about Britain, mainly for those who are unable to get into Hogwarts themselves, or wish to go elsewhere but not wanting leave the country. There is Cloudhaven which tends to have students from the Celtic and Gaelic families. I would say that one is Hogwarts' main challenger in accepting these families and students."
"Why's that then? Is Hogwarts...does it not like those families?"
"No, that's not it. It's more that Hogwarts, especially under Dumbledore's time as Headmaster, and his predecessor Armando Dippet, encouraged more Muggle traditions. For instance, they're quite happy with the idea of students saying Christmas instead of Yule, Easter instead of Imbolc. Small things, but ones which can make a family who are very traditional be uncomfortable. It's like...when you go visit a country and are trying to make them speak your language, use your customs. Some will be happy to oblige and adapt, some will be vehemently against it, and others...just want to do their own thing, let you do yours and not have them interact badly with one another. Does that makes sense?"
"I - I think so. Basically they want things to stay as they were but not enough to care outside their own circles? That it?"
"On the whole, yes. Ironically, you'll actually find more disgruntlement and even discrimination at Hogwarts. You're not soft skinned are you?" He squinted at her playfully making her giggle.
"Nah. For the most part I just let it pass." She shrugged. She already had an idea that she'd face some difficulties with her mum being a Muggleborn. Not so much the Fae side of things apparently; Ifan had told her that the majority of people were unaware of his connection to Lily and so she'd be considered a Half Blood under Wizarding terms only, and nor Fae as there was no registry of this. Although, apparently, most Fae wouldn't put their kin down on a register as it made things messy legally, which seemed to perpetuate the suspicion on who had what Blood. It was bloody confusing, that's what it was.
When it came to the Houses of Hogwarts Aster was a bit perplexed - if there was so much issue in getting people to get along, why would they organise a school where it seemed to pit one against the other?
"It's a tradition a millenia old, and I doubt the Founders of Hogwarts could See that it would be a basis of hostility when they created it. Although there have been attempts at trying to calm this down throughout the centuries. A large myth is that Slytherin House isn't bad as Merlin was there, and Morgan Le Fay was a Ravenclaw.
"Absolute hogwash. There was a Merlin who went to Hogwarts and was in Slytherin, true, but not the Merlin who even Muggles know about. He didn't even have an education from what Fae are told. And don't get me started on the Le Fays - the family to this day blisters on about how the school decided to stick her name on something as she fit the profile of a quintessential Ravenclaw." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, if you ever meet them, steer clear of the fact you go there, and if its brought up, navigate your way passed it. I'll teach you how as you get older. It'll save you a headache." He chortled, taking in Aster's owlish face blinking at him as he rambled.
It was a week after their arrival at Mynydd Hall when two owls arrived at the large round window in Ifan's office. One of them held a scroll in its talons as the other carried a large wrapped up parcel. Waving them in and directing them to the water bowl and bowl of nuts he opened the scroll.
It was the standard salutations from the Goblins, going into detail how much effort it was to ensure that no magic, bond or oath wasn't being affected by the decision they came to. Which was to call a Council, which took precious time away from their ever important duties etcetera etcetera. Scanning the contents he finally came to the information which he needed; they'd sent not only the formal portraits but also the personals.
Grinning to himself, he asked Eppy to find Aster and bring her to him. When the girl arrived she looked apprehensive, fiddling with her fingers and hunching her shoulders, to Ifan's bewilderment. Once he understood he hastened to assure her that she wasn't in trouble.
"Nothing is wrong, mech i mi! I've just received an owl from Gringrotts...along with a parcel." Aster immediately looked up, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. "Would you care to open it?" He asked her gently and at her nod he stood aside so she could see said parcel laying on a chair.
Glancing up at Ifan again, she fumbled with the twine before sliding a finger under the wax seal holding the paper together. Licking her lips, she dragged the wrapping off and saw a wooden box, not unlike those that artists lugged around.
Checking with her grandfather again with a look, she gently opened the clasp and saw inside two ornate frames side by side as well as one smaller oval one. All were empty.
Blinking back tears she turned to Ifan who smiled at her before chucking her under the chin and telling her to step aside so he could, basically, reactivate them.
He pulled out all three frames, standing them up side by side before looking at the instructions to get them animated again from a toke he had.
After mumbling a few words and waving hand movements, a buzz seemed to build in the quiet room. Aster stood behind me, gnawing on her lip and twisting her hands as Ifan rocked back and forth on his heels.
What felt like an hour actually only took a couple of minutes before a messy black haired man seemed to literally fall into one frame and a red haired woman seemed to just pop into existence in hers.
"Honestly James, how you can be so graceful on a broom and then be so...you everywhere else is beyond me." The woman chided the man, hands on hips and an eyebrow raised as he skunk into her frame.
He threw her a lopsided grin at her, "What can I say, love? You make me fall at your feet." He winked at her, but when her expression didn't change, he pouted before shrugging. "Alright. I can answer the age old question - it does hurt falling from heaven." The woman's lips twitched into a smile as she rolled her eyes. It wasn't until a hitched whimper that they realised they had an audience.
Turning around, the woman, Lily, beamed "Grandfather! How lovely to see you!" As James nodded as he slung an arm around Lily's shoulders.
"It really is. You wouldn't believe how boring it can he just sitting and doing or seeing nothing!" He laughed before fading off seeing the wary look in the old Fae's eyes.
Immediately he was all business. "What happened?"
"Lily - James, there's, er, someone I want you to...meet." Ifan looked over his shoulder before nodding and moving out of the way, letting the couple in the frame see for the first time the young girl.
The first thing they both thought was: she was beautiful. The next was: why was she crying?
There was a silence before Lily moved as if trying to step closer, coming to a jarring hault at the boundary and frowning. "...Aster? Is that...you my love?" She whispered, moving her head to try and see underneath the mass of hair that had a distinct Potter curl.
Aster looked up and nodded, tears dripping down her face as she drank in the sight of the two people before her. "Mum...Dad." And fell to her knees to sit in front of them.
Looking at her, the three other occupants in the room felt their hearts break as she broke down in front of them.
"We never wanted to leave you, starlet. We would be with you forever if we could. We would've watched you run, play and I would've continue teaching you to fly with your mum growing ever more anxious and annoyed at me." James grinned as he knelt down too.
"Your dad's right. We never would have chosen to leave. But it was not a chore to decide that you should live before all others. As I'm sure you been told many a time before." Lily spoke softly.
Aster snorted at that. "I'm sure Aunt Petunia just forgot to tell me." She drawled quietly.
Lily and James looked at one another in confusion. "Tuney? What's she got to do with anything?"
Ifan stepped closer to the frame, laying a hand on Aster's head and carded his hand through her hair. "Dumbledore had Aster placed in the 'care' of your sister. I had been told that she, Aster I mean, had been killed alongside yourselves."
"WHAT?!" Was the loud cry from both occupants of the portrait after a brief silence.
"Why, on Merlin's crusty trousers, did he say that?"
"The hell was he thinking of putting her with her?!"
"The man's turned round the bend. Had too many spells to the head. It was bound to happen soon with his choice of outfit."
"I'm going to kill him."
"Errr...love, we're in a portrait..." James told her nervously, he had seen that look on her face in a mild form several times in his life - mainly when they were at Hogwarts and towards himself.
"Oh I'll find a way for that to be not an issue. Even if I have to resort to fucking necromancy."
Aster couldn't help but giggle, silencing the tirade of overlapping spitting fury that were her parents. At the sound, the two of them stopped, mesmerised by the sound, and they outwardly relaxed.
"What happened, my love?" Lily tenderly asked.
Aster shrugged. "I don't wanna talk about it." She said to her knees, which was all the two of them needed before getting an idea of things. Ifan nodded to them before mouthing that he would tell them in due course.
"Well, I bet Sirius flew off the handle when he found out!" James cried with glee at the thought of Padfoot concocting schemes for revenge on both Lils' sister and the old man.
"Sirius Black," Ifan said through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth, "is sitting in Azkaban for his crimes."
James pulled a face, "And what're they? Being a total twat at times?" Lily drawled.
Ifan looked at them weirdly, "No...for following Voldemort, killing your friend and blowing up twelve Muggles..." He slowly said, worried that maybe the reanimation went a little wonky.
"Huh? Following Vol - I think he'd have declared his undying love to Snive - I mean Snape - before joining him." He said, swiftly changing the name as Lily narrowed her eyes dangerously at him, making him take a couple steps away with a sheepish smile before continuing. "I mean, the whole killing folks is a bit out of repertoire too. When was this?"
"Not three days since that day." James blinked.
"Who did he kill, Grandfather? As in, which friend?"
"Pettigrew. All that was left to bury was his little finger."
Their faces darkened. "The bastard deserved it." James spat, "After betraying
us." At Ifan's blank stare, he rolled his eyes " he was the secret keeper, Ifan. Sirius was too obvious a person. So Lils changed the Keeper two weeks before."
"Err...what's a Secret Keeper? Who's Serious Black? And what kind of name is that?" Aster asked to the room at large, making James snort.
" Sirius Black, starlet, not Serious. He's never been serious in his life. Although he makes the joke way too much.
"A Secret Keeper is someone who knows the location of something or somewhere that has been put into a Fidelius Charm. The Fidelius is basically a spell that hides the location of something completely. Even if you've been to that place before you wouldn't be able to see or remember
where it was until a chosen person, the Secret Keeper, gives you that information.
"We three had this spell performed, originally with our friend Sirius. However, due to how known it was that we were like brothers, we decided we needed someone more...overlooked. So we chose a friend called Peter Pettigrew. Two weeks later...well, you know what happened." Aster nibbled her lip as she took this in.
"So...why didn't this other person say anything after?"
Ifan shrugged, "Likely as he went and killed thirteen people in revenge. He did always have an issue with his temper." He mused, looking into the middle distance before blinking. "Unless you think otherwise?" He directed to James who thought for a moment.
"Well...what did, or do, the trial transcripts say?" Lily prodded.
"From my understanding, there wasn't any trial. There seemed to be an agreement that there was enough evidence for a guilty verdict. Dumbledore's confirmation of Black being the Keeper, and then him standing amongst the wreckage of a mass murder laughing manically condemned him."
James ran a hand down his face."Right, well we need to at least get him off the charge for being a Death Eater and revealing our location as well as - Aster? What's wrong?"
"What's a Death Eater? And who is this Voldy whatever person?"
"Voldemort. He was a...terrorist in the Wizarding World, and who...came to the house that night. Death Eaters are his followers. What's, what's with the face?"
"I just...feel kinda ticked off. At the name. Kinda like it's an insult." Aster shook her head and shrugged off the feeling. "So who actually is this guy?"
"I think it'd be best if I explain it later, merch i mi. Don't want to tar this reunion, with this talk of terrorists, do we? Now, how about I ask Eppy for some tea and we can sit down properly to talk, hmm?"
Aster nodded and sat down in the chair Ifan dragged over for her, folding himself down in its twin. A tray of tea, sandwiches and biscuits appeared on the small table, and Ifan noted with some amusement, a side plate of three slices of bread slathered in butter. Lily gracefully went to sit cross legged as James flopped down and reclined his hands behind his back to lean on as he stretched his legs in front.
Once everyone seemed to be comfortable, Ifan, feeling rather like a mediator, asked his companions, "Now, what shall we talk about?"
A contemplative quiet descended before Aster perked up, nearly sloshing tea all over her.
"What books do you - did you - like?"
Lily smiled, "Oh! Goodness...depends on whether you want fiction or factual books. For fiction, well I was more partial to fantasy as a child, The Hobbit being a firm favourite, but as I grew I was more into mysteries. For nonfiction, it tended towards magical books on Potions and Charms, and how things had developed. One benefit of being with your father - the Potters are renowned Potioneers and so his dad, your grandfather Fleamont, was a fountain of insight." She said smugly as James rolled his eyes.
"The books I like - " he began (before Lily interrupted with "I didn't know you could read!") "Hush! The books I tended towards were mainly fiction in all honesty. Schoolwork was pretty easy as my parents had taught me from an early age...bit of an unfair advantage but it was a way to reel me in." He shrugged with a non apologetic grin. "How about you, starlet? What'd you read? We already know Ifan will quite literally try anything, even knitting magazines he's swiped from Dumbles."
"One of my favourite authors is Terry Pratchett. Especially Mort! I named my cat after Death's horse - Binky. I've read The Hobbit too, pretended I was Gandalf and everything when I was playing or in my cupboard." Lily and James looked alarmed at the slip that Aster didn't realise she had made, leaning forward and straightened a fraction.
"I've got a whole load of magical books too. A fable one called or by Beadle the Bard, ones on Potions and plants and things. I'm just...trying to catch up." She shrugged, "When I was picking up my Potions stuff there was a grumpy man who told me what to look for in a cauldron, didn't seem too happy to be there though."
"Sounds like Sn - Snape." James snorted as Lily pulled a face in agreement.
"What else do you like to do, my love?" Lily needled, hoping for more information or slips of the tongue she could use to filter out how she was brought up.
"I love plants! Jospo has brought me a few bunches of wildflowers and put them in my room for me. He also put a lavender plant in there too before I arrived! I can't wait to see what the garden's like, but it's been raining for the past week and Eppy won't let me go out." She pouted.
"I also liked my art classes at school. Didn't do too well on them though, cause I couldn't keep them so didn't see the point in doing a load."
James brightened, choosing to ignore the comment about unable to keep her art to bring up with Ifan later. "OH MY GODS I LOVE ART!" He yelled, jumping up into a cross legged sitting position, jostling Lily who had been a smidgen too close. "What's your favourite? Drawing? Painting? Collage? Sculpting? Messy? Neat?" He rattled off in quick succession.
"Err," was Aster's eloquent response, "drawing I guess. And I liked painting with my hands too. That was fun." James nodded his head - anything that was messy was bound to be fun.
"Your mum's rubbish at art. Can make a stick figure look fat. I'm serious! Whenever we would try to play that Muggle game Pictionary, everyone would scramble for her to not be the one to draw as much." James laughed, making Lily roll her eyes and push him away.
Aster grinned, her eyes lighting up at the sound of her dad's warming chortling as her mum tried to look stern despite her lips twitching into a smirk of her own. She knew that she would never be able to hug her parents, nor feel her mum's hand brush her hair away, or her dad tackling her into a hug. Yet as she looked away from the frame and at Ifan, her grandfather, who was chuckling at the antics of James, she knew she still had him to look after her.
The next couple of weeks Death looked over at the semi reunited family with pleasure. He had cheated a little regarding the portraits - they had more awareness than others of their kind, even from those at Hogwarts. In essence, the two painted people were Lily and James. Of course, their entire consciousness could not be channelled through, but enough was leaked in so that the Child could have the chance to know them. After all, she would need to be prepared for the battles yet to come and would need the intellect of Wizard, Muggle and Fae. It could only have been better if they could reflect a true Triquetra of Child, Mother and Crone. But, needs must.
And so the next few weeks passed, Aster running down the hall to where one frame sat in the parlour so that she could talk to them on awakening, at meal times the other portrait was stood, although Ifan and Aster had taken to eating in the kitchen most days to talk to the two House Elves.
The small frame was being put away with her Hogwarts trunk so that she could see them when she was away.
When James said that other kids couldn't see their parents whenever they liked at school she merely shrugged at him and declared, "most kids have their parents alive. And if they don't - well it's not her fault for not using the resources at hand to them."
James couldn't help but snigger and concede her point until Lily slyly suggested, "She'd make a wonderful Slytherin, won't she Jamie?" Which earned her scowl, a sigh and a nod as he muttered that his mother had jinxed the family of being solely Gryffindors.
When Aster woke up on the 31st August she was subdued. She had been craving a family she could call her own for ten years, and now that she had found them, she was going to leave them for weeks on end.
Picking up on her sombre mood, the three adults began to tell her stories of their own school days, with James taking the lead as his weaved tales of adventure, misbehaviour and pranks. Most of them incorporated all three. Her parents would describe their history and how they got together, with James going into raptures about how quickly he fell for Lily. Lily, when asked, simply said that it was only when she wasn't blindsided by his faults being pointed out that she began to fall for him in return.
As it approached to evening, Aster quietly asked if the two Elves would sit down with her and Ifan as they ate as she wanted to be with her entire family. As she expected, they burst into tears and lunged at her to clutch her into an Elf Hug Sandwich. Once extricating herself and able to get them.to sit down with her, she was plied with near enough half a load of bread to go with the meal. She scoffed it all.
She barely slept that night, so as the day dawned she plucked out the book on magical art she bought earlier that summer. Knowing that her dad enjoyed art, and art being the reason why she could have a semi real relationship with her dead parents, she was desperate to learn.
Aster looked up at the sound of clanging from her trunk. Opening it up with a frown she saw the small portrait of her parents. Lily stood there with her hands clamped to her ears and glaring at James as he smacked two copper pans together while screaming. After he didn't seem to be able to hear her over the racket she poked him in the face.
"Oi! Will you shut up?!"
"Oi! Why'd you poke me for?!"
They shouted at the same time, scowling at one another as Lily slowly took her hands from her head and muttered "blessed silence". Noticing that the two were glaring at one another she rolled her eyes.
"He wanted to make sure you woke up on time." She shrugged, before frowning. "Apparently the portrait in the parlour was too far away. So for some reason he
dragged me out from the one in the dining room to here." As if that explained everything.
"Right...Well where'd he get the pans from?" At that Lily blinked.
"Where did you get the pans from?"
James puffed his chest up smugly. "I have special powers, you know."
"Yes it's called magic, dad. We all have it."
"Yes it's called being a prat, you prat."
Mother and daughter spoke at the same time, before looking at one another and smirking.
"Gah! Betrayed by my nearest and dearest!"
He gasped, clutching at his heart.
"It's not a betrayal, more like an intervention." Aster rolled her eyes before adopting a concerned look. "It's only because we care, you know."
Lily nodded before patting his shoulder. "We're here for you, love. We only want what's best."
James pouted, "Now you're just ganging up on me! I don't have to take this from you." He stuck his nose up in the air. "I'm going to take my pans and go to my portrait." He sniffed before walking primly out of the frame.
Lily looked at where he had just left with a fond look on her face. "Eh, he'll get over it. Likely in two minutes but won't want to come skulking back in here."
She looked up at her daughter, stumbling as she brought the frame out and sat it on the lid of the now closed trunk.
"Now. Are you all packed? All the books you wish to take? All your clothes? Any personal items? Clacker and Binky's things?" She rattled off, happy as Aster nodded at each question.
"Good girl. You can get dressed in normal clothes for when you get on the train, there'll be an announcement when you should get into your uniform and robes. I'd recommend putting them in a separate bag instead of in your trunk. It's what I always did, especially at your age as I was so small it was difficult to open and close the damn thing."
Aster nodded, before dragging out a pair of jeans, random t shirt and shoes and getting washed and dressed in the attached bathroom. Once finished she sat cross legged in front of her trunk and plaited her hair back. Noticing her mother's sad expression, she asked her what was wrong.
"I just wish I could be there to fully see you off, to do your hair for you. To hug you until you can't breath and get all embarrassed at your emotional mum." She sniffled.
Aster lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, "What we have here, with the portraits and everything, that's more than I could ever hope for." She whispered, licking her lips. "Even finding Ifan was something I had ever wished for. I'm...happy, mum. For maybe the first time I can remember." Lily smiled softly before shaking her head.
"Well then. That's what matters, isn't it? If wishes were fishes!" At Aster's confused look she waved a hand, "never mind. If you're all good to go, pop the frame away again, and pop to the kitchen for breakfast. If Eppy is as vervacious as she usually is, she'll have prepared a bloody feast for you."
Nodding to herself, Aster slipped the frame away, along with the art book and heaved the trunk so she could drag it down the hallway and stairs to put by the front door.
"I was going to get that for you, merch i mi." Ifan said as he came out of his office. "You ready for today?"
Aster rolled her eyes, "You sound like mum. Everything's packed and ready to go."
"I figured she'd have that side of things sorted. I was meaning how you're feeling."
"Oh. Er. Nervous, I guess? I've only just found you and now I'm leaving for months on end."
Ifan quirked a half smile, before taking a hand out of his pockets and chucking her under the chin.
"You'll be back here for Yule before you know it. And you can write me however much you want. Even if its more than once a day." He cupped her cheek, "I'll miss you too." He said softly before guiding her into a hug and pecking a kiss on her head.
They stood like that for a few minutes before Aster pulled away reluctantly. Wiping her eyes, she mumbled how Lily said that Eppy had likely cooked up a storm for breakfast before walking in that direction.
As she opened the door, the signature smell of freshly made bread from the kitchen greeted her, along with the sight of the table laden down with a variety of breakfast foods. Pitchers of milk and fresh juice sat beside a pot of tea and carafe of coffee, fruit sat on a platter, a plate of fresh bread sat with butter to its side. Porridge and warmed sausages and bacon sat to the side - nothing for a full English as both Ifan and Aster couldn't stomach that early in the morning.
Looking up at her grandfather Aster asked
him they knew that all of this wouldn't be able to eaten in one go. Which Eppy ended up hearing.
"Of course we knows Miss Asty. But you can take stuff with you. After all, we know what you like. Not Hoggy-warts Elvsies." She said with a firm nod before flittering to toast two pieces of bread. Simultaneously shrugging at one another, Ifan and Aster sat down and helped themselves to coffee and tea respectively.
It was all too soon when it came time for them to leave to get to King's Cross Station. Eppy and Jospo clutched at her, clucking how she best look after herself as they sniffled.
Ifan took hold of the trunk and Aster, who had a handful of cat and a crow on her shoulder, before throwing powder and declaring "Hopscotch." In a poof of smoke they disappeared from the early morning mists of Welsh mountains to the smog filled alley behind the train station.
They fought their way through the crowds, although with Ifan's confident and loping stride they found people moved out of their way for the most part. It wasn't until she saw the signs for Platforms Nine and Ten that she remembered. She had to walk through a wall. Deciding that clutching her grandfather's hand was the best way to go about it, she shifted Binky into a better position, wishing she had managed to corral him into his carrier beforehand.
Ifan squeezed her hand as they went through, feeling a shimmering sensation go over them as they passed the boundary. Ifan dragged her away from the opening, realising belatedly that she was stood there with her mouth dropped open in awe at the glossy scarlet train before her. People were rushing about the platform, with animals running around people's legs and feet. Kids were laughing, parents yelling at them. It was utter chaos.
"Here we are then. Let's get you a compartment and heft your trunk in before this becomes a true mob of families." Ifan directed them, hopping up the step on to the train, lending a hand to Aster. They quickly found one towards the back, shuffling everything in its place; Binky's carrier and Clacker in his cage were put up by the rail, her bag from Sagina stowed on the seat she claimed as her own, and Binky himself making himself a nest out of it.
They sat in there for the remainder of the time it hit ten to eleven, Ifan talking about anything and everything as Aster grew more anxious as time went on.
"I best get going, merch i mi. Children will be claiming places from now. Come here, give your grandfather a hug." She launched herself at him, clutching at him for a few minutes before she dragged herself away and gave him a smile as he chucked her under the chin and kissed her on the head.
She had only been sat on her own for a few minutes when the door slid open and a boy her age with curly brown hair stopped in the doorway.
"Ah. Er...mind if I sit?" He hesitantly asked. At her nod he flashed a smile of thanks before putting the book he was holding down on the opposite seat and looked at his trunk then the rails.
"I can...help." Aster quietly offered as she stood. At his look of relief she grabbed the other end and they both struggled to maneuver it to the rail ahead.
Once they managed to, they both flopped on to the seats panting. It was awkward for all of thirty seconds until the boy heaved a breath.
"Theodore Nott." He stuck his hand out.
Aster shook it gently. "Err, Aster... Potter. Pleasure." He nodded before they fell into silence again.
"Mind if I read?" They asked at the same time, before blinking.
"Sure." They said again before laughing softly as the train lurched into starting to move.
A/N: Just want to thank any and all who've read this so far. I'm not one for knowing what to do, when or what put for Author Notes hence the lack of them bar TW.
Happy New Year and I hope you all enjoyed any celebrations you've had!