Chapter 1
Aoife Braithwaite always had a habit of running away when things became bleak. But traveling to a new foreign place isn’t one of them. Especially when the young witch has never traveled anywhere far and beyond on her own. Reading old atlases doesn’t cut it. What was she ever thinking?
It's for him, her conscience reminded. The love of her life is marrying .... Well is now married to someone else. Which is why she's here; out of his way for good. He doesn't love her anymore, so her being gone would at least be easier for him. What will he think and do when learning of her absence? Will he search for her? Or will he continue on with his life as normal?
The second option is a definite, Aoife figured. Then there are the others. Most likely they will too.
If only Mum and Dad weren't taken by the war, Aoife wouldn't even be here. They would've venture the world together. Probably even live somewhere for a year or two. Sadly, that can't happen when you're on your own.
For days on end, she traveled with little to no food and water. To find something at least. A runaway muggle would have a higher chance, but not a witch. If Harry, Ron and Hermione survived months out in the open, then maybe she can as well. On one positive side, at least. The portkey, an undetected one mind you landed her in the middle of isolation where no one would see her cry at times.
Surprised no tears run out dry by this point.
Aofie slowly began to lose consciousness bit by bit. Now hardly any left, that she dropped to the ground when taking another step. Wondering what death must feel like. While the earth began to darken, her eyes gave in. When a sight of an apparition laid by her side; pale as death himself and their hair lost its spark.
The apparition stroked her blonde hair. Then tucked a lock of it behind the ear, touching her sleeping eyes and held her hand. Only for the spirit-like being completely gone in a matter of seconds. As if it was never present to begin with. Aoife may have felt a touch. But you can't feel anything from them, right? As they can't do such a thing.
Soon enough no trace of light remained in the heavens and it started to grow colder by the second. Or so that's what she think when the sound of thunder made its appearance. Indicating a possible promise of rain. Aoife now too weak and tired to cast a protection spell. Not even realizing the sky poured out.
If this is what being on the verge of death feels like......
Not knowing how much time passed when made out a figure loomed over her. They kneeled down and carried her off. At this point, Aoife had no choice, but to rely on the stranger and where they're taking her, as she no longer has any strength left in her sleep-like state.
"Witch," the stranger's voice whispered. As if in confirmation.
Thoughts circled her mind, but one main thing stayed. Him. Again, she had to leave. It was all for him, so she's no longer an "obstacle" in his way. So he and his now wife can officially be happy. With her no longer in the picture.
It's for his best, Aoife reminded herself. His happiness.
Especially when he made his feelings abundantly clear to Aofie.
***
Fourth year rolled around the corner. Mum and Dad were oddly secretive about something lately. And no, it had nothing to with the Quidditch World Cup mishap. Bastards! Off all the monstrosities the Death Eaters can do. No matter, Aoife was determined to get at least a word out from her parents.
The big factor that gave away was when Mum insisted on going dress shopping.
Mum, really. What's going on?" she would ask.
"You'll see," Mum giggled. "Maybe you can use this chance to ask that boy you like."
Aoife felt the heat of her cheeks creeping in. That boy hardy knows of her existence. And besides, he's probably more interested in someone his year or one of the Gryffindor chasers since the team seems to close knit. Or any girl who is just as bold and gregarious as he is.
"What about this?" Mum held out a sage green tulle dress with a sweetheart neckline and bow straps.
"It's nice," Aoife replied. The dress was indeed nice. Even so with the flowery detail that divided the top and the glittery bottom.
"Try it on then," Mum shoved the dress into her hands.
So, Aoife went into the change room to try on the dress. It sort of hit her whilst putting on the dress why Mum and Dad were acting weird. There must something going at Hogwarts this year. Possibly something like a prom that they do in American muggle schools she's seen in films and such. Wonder if Ilvermorny does school dances as well.
After adjusting the dress, Aoife stepped out to show Mum.
"Oh, Fifi," Mum gushed. "You look so beautiful. If I only had a camera for your dad to see."
"Too bad those things take a while to develop," Aoife stated.
"Yes," Mum agreed. "But we're buying you the dress anyway."
Before Aoife could utter another reply, a familiar someone caught her eye. A redheaded boy and his twin. Who have just entered the shop. She gasped and quickly pulled her Mum into the change room with her.
"Aoife, what's the matt -"
"Shh," Aoife placed a finger her Mum's lips. "He's here. I just saw him, and I don't want him to see me."
Mum heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Aoife, you wear cute little dresses all the time. This should be no different."
"Please, Mum," Aoife pleaded.
"Oh, all right," said Mum. "You really are like your aunt Lavinia."
Aunt Lavinia. Dad's younger sister whom she never met. Death decided to pay her a visit, after a heartbreak she's faced. Mum would always state how similar they are. From appearance; honey blonde hair and light hazel eyes, a short stature to match. Down to the mannerisms. Though they never speak as much about her. Aoife never really tried to ask much of her aunt. Worried it would trigger some painful emotions. Instead she ever just nodded and bear any mention of Aunt Lavinia. Including any time a comparison is ever made.
"Okay," Mum broke through her thoughts. "The coast seems clear for now." She exited out, leaving her daughter to change out from the dress. After all that, Mum straightened out the dress from creases and wrinkles.
"Okay, while I pay, you can save us a spot at Rosa Lee Teabag," Mum suggested.
Aoife nodded as Mum went over to the queue and she made way out. But not without looking at some of the accessories first. As she reached for a particular looking bowtie that would actually look nice on the hair, a hand accidentally brushed against hers. Aoife looked up to see a tall redhead in front of her. It's him, George Weasley in the flesh. His hair's gotten even longer over the summer. Practically touching his shoulders. Well, almost.
"Whoops, sorry," he apologized kindly.
"It's okay," she replied softly. Quickly moving her hand out of the way.
"So, you're dress shopping too?" George asked.
Aoife nodded. On closer observation, she noticed smears of dirt across his face. His family travels using floo powder, so that could the main source.
"Cool, cool," George said.
His twin brother, Fred called out for him not too long after. "Well, gotta go. Duty calls."
Aoife smiled in return.
After he was out of sight, Aoife tailed out from the shop. Staring at the hand that he touched and using her other hand to stroke the area his touch landed on. Aoife managed to find available seats in Rosa Lee Teabag.
Mum followed not a moment too soon after paying the dress.
"I saw you talking with that boy," she said whilst taking her seat. "How did it go?"
"Fine, I guess," Aoife replied. "It didn't last long."
Since he was the only one doing the talking.
"At least we're making progress," Mum assured. "Little steps go a long way. But regardless, I'm proud of you, Fifi."
Aoife, again smiled at Mum's words. Who knows? Maybe this year will be different.