A Christmas Tale
In their fifth year at the illustrious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the castle gleamed with enchantment, adorned with ethereal snowflakes cascading gracefully from the ceiling. Aurice Bray, a Slytherin, wove her way through the wintry beauty, warmly greeted by her dear companion Brenda Lockwood at the Slytherin table. The air was filled with anticipation as the headmaster, in a rare display, delivered a speech brimming with sagacity, evoking applause from the enchanted student body.
Aurice, unaccustomed to such addresses from the headmaster, rested her chin on her palm, passively absorbing his words that reverberated in her contemplative mind. "You will be returning home for Christmas Eve," declared the headmaster, his voice resonating with authority. "Yet, remember, even during your respite, you do not depart from these hallowed walls. Hogwarts, as you all well know, resides within each and every one of you."
As the choir harmoniously sang, filling the castle with festive cheer, the lyrics echoed the sentiment of the magical world they inhabited. The holiday spirit was palpable, with the lyrics celebrating the enchanting creatures and magical wonders that defined Hogwarts.
The closing notes of the choir faded, leaving an echoing sense of joy and nostalgia. Who wouldn't miss the animated paintings that greeted first-year students, or the ethereal ghosts meandering across the grounds, preoccupied with their spectral affairs? And who could forget the welcoming embrace of the school, an atmosphere so inviting that the thought of leaving never crossed one's mind?
The magical ambiance was heightened as everyone joined in the chorus, expressing gratitude to the elves, the goblins, and all the magical beings that made Hogwarts a second home. In seven vocal ranges, the choir concluded with an exuberant rendition of "Merry Jolly Christmas," resonating through the castle.
For five years, Aurice had called this enchanted place her home. Hogwarts was not just a school; it was a sanctuary where young witches and wizards could blossom into their true selves. From a spoiled eleven-year-old to a passionate fifteen-year-old, Aurice had undergone a transformation fueled by her unwavering desire to absorb all the knowledge the castle had to offer.
As she pondered these thoughts, savoring a roasted chicken, her love for food, regardless of its preparation, became apparent. Hogwarts, with its unlimited supply of delectable treats, especially desserts, had captured her heart. Her favorite indulgence was the velvety texture of jelly in an array of colors, each bite a delightful experience.
Bridgette Warmfellow, a member of Aurice's close trio of friends, remarked, "Aurice, you're eating like a pig." Unfazed, Aurice rolled her eyes, continuing to savor the remnants of jelly with a carefree demeanor. Slytherins were known for their refined manners and impeccable table etiquette, but Aurice chose to defy those expectations. To her, the label of "pure-blood" did not dictate her identity; she sought to be different. It was then that she caught the distant gaze of Lucius Malfoy, a Slytherin peer, observing her with intrigued interest.
"Hey, Prometheus," Aurice called down the length of the table. "Tell Malfoy to cease his eye-terror campaign or I'll hex him on the spot!" "He says he can't help it. You're a pearl from the meadows," Prometheus shouted back, surrounded by uproarious chuckles.
"The pearl of the meadows. Can't he leave me alone?" Aurice expressed in frustration.
"Do you hear yourself, Aurice?" Brenda chimed in. "That's Lucius Malfoy!"
"So?"
"So, you're lucky he likes you more than anyone else in our house or the entire school," Brenda pointed out.
"I don't really care," Aurice retorted. Indeed, Aurice held no regard for Malfoy's feelings; in fact, she was repulsed by his nature. Malfoy incessantly boasted about his esteemed lineage, claiming his family's Slytherin legacy for centuries.
In Aurice's view, blood relations were irrelevant to the Sorting Hat's decision. It should be based on one's character—a perspective that is completely the opposite point of view of Slytherins.
She regretted her past arrogance and spoiled behavior. Reflecting on her transformation, she considered her earlier self a haunting nightmare. However, spurred by the death of her mother, she underwent a profound change. The authorities remained clueless about the cause of her mother's demise. Aurice harbored a desire for vengeance and a thirst for retribution. Life should repay life. Blood for blood. No mercy for those who showed none.
The old Aurice, filled with torment and cruelty, occasionally resurfaced, tempting her to succumb to the lure of vengeance.
"Aurice?" Brenda interrupted her thoughts. "We should be going right now. Time to pack."
"Uh—right. Sure," Aurice agreed.
On the way to the Slytherin Common Room, she adjusted her robe.
"Do I look like a witch?" she asked.
"Of course. Why do you ask?" her two friends inquired.
"Nothing. Never mind. Let's just go on," said Aurice.
"We're here, Aurice," said Brenda.
"Oh yeah, Serpentium," Aurice spoke to the painting guarding Slytherin's heavy metal door.
Passing the common room, she spotted a group of Slytherin boys engrossed in a serious discussion. Among them were Amycus Carrow, Vincent Crabbe Sr., and the enigmatic Tom Marvolo Riddle—a half-muggle that captured Aurice's attention since her arrival at the castle. She dreamed of him daily, as did many other girls who fell under his charismatic spell.
"Isn't he dreamy?" remarked Brenda.
"Someday, I would be his wife," Aurice whispered.
The boys ceased their chatter, and Bridgette and Brenda both nudged the wide-eyed, frozen Aurice. She was shocked that such a hushed comment could silence the entire common room. Amycus stood up, his eyebrows furrowed.
"What did you say, Bray?" Amycus asked.
"Nuh--nothing," stammered Aurice.
"She said something about marriage!" declared Vincent.
"I heard what she said. You don't have to shout it behind my ear," said Amycus, turning to his friend. "I can clearly hear you."
He turned around, only to find Aurice and her friends gone.
"Why does he always have to be vile to us?" Bridgette complained. "Whenever we're with you, Aurice, he acts like that. Sometimes, I don't want to be near you anymore."
Bridgette stomped upstairs.
"You know, Carrow's my beau, right? —"
Aurice furrowed her brows and turned to Brenda.
"Shh... It's alright, Aurice. Don't let her get to you, okay?"
Brenda proceeded upstairs, loading her things into her trunk. Aurice decided she didn't want to be home for the holidays. She went to the Owlery, sent her grandfather Teeban Gregory Bray a letter stating she would stay at Hogwarts until classes resumed. Her owl, Suzanne, named after her mum, flew to the sky, traveling northwest.
"Don't get lost," she said.
"It seems like I'm lost," a voice from nowhere spoke.
She took three steps backward, carefully balancing herself, yet she found herself falling into the arms of Tom Riddle. Unintentionally, she touched his face to check if he was real. Tom smiled, and despite his handsome visage, she detected a hint of brokenness in that smile—a boy longing for care all these years. It enticed her to kiss him.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized.
Tom chuckled, guiding her to sit on the brick floor of the Owlery.
"Didn't see that coming, eh, Ms. Bray?" Tom teased.
His eyes glistened, and she looked away. It was awkward for anyone to verbalize unexpected feelings, especially Aurice. They listened to the owls' hooting and the wind's roar. Aurice sat straight, breaking the deafening silence.
"Shouldn't you be off home this time of the year?" she asked. "It's Christmas."
"No," he answered without blinking.
The cold air seemed to carry the sternness of his voice. Others might find it unsettling, but not her; she had grown lenient towards him.
"Sorry for asking such a silly question, Tom," she said.
"I don't mind," responded Tom. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"
"Of course," said Aurice.
They roamed the castle, and though Aurice considered mentioning the Astronomy Tower, she focused on enjoying the walk with Tom. The silent companionship pleased her, and every step they took made her heart skip. When a prefect finally instructed them to return to their dormitories, they made their way back to the Slytherin house. Excusing herself to bed, she bid Tom goodnight, blushing.
"Have a good night's sleep, Aurice," said Tom.
Hearing her name from his lips filled her with joy. If there had been mistletoe, she would have kissed him right there and then, but she kept these thoughts to herself. Watching Tom gracefully move towards the male dormitory, even the slightest glimpse of him could captivate her senses.
That night, she found it hard to sleep. Her mind lingered on the day's events. Did it all happen? She was disappointed about upsetting Bridgette. She didn't need to be the reason why Bridgette and Amycus had to break up.
Aurice tiptoed her way out of bed and the castle, finding solace beneath the Whomping Willow's branches. It had been a while since she last visited, dismissing the fanciful tales spun by her classmates regarding the tree's purported hostility. Her intuition assured her they were mere fabrications; the tree had never posed a threat to her.
Unbeknownst to the teachers, Aurice never deemed it necessary to report her peaceful encounters with the seemingly agitated tree. Perhaps it was a norm for the tree to remain calm, even when disturbed. Creating a snowball, she tossed it into the open space, only to be interrupted by the arrival of an owl. A familiar one – Suzanne, the same owl that had delivered her letter to Teeban. A parchment was securely tied to its leg.
"You truly are a swift owl, Suzanne," Aurice commended.
Unraveling Teeban's letter, Aurice could almost hear his gentle voice as she read:
Darling Aurice,
I know you'll be at the foot of the Whomping Willow at this hour, much like your mother, Suzanne. I regret to inform you, my dear, that I cannot grant your wish to reside in that castle forever. Remember, you still have a family here. Even if your mother were alive, she wouldn't permit it. However, you can stay there for two more days, as your father and I have some business to attend to in Scotland. Bless you, child. Keep safe.
Teeban
With the mention of her father in the letter, Aurice descended from the snow-covered hill. Cesar Bray, her father, had been the epitome of an ideal father until Suzanne's death, after which he became distant. Teeban attempted to console his grandchild, explaining that "Cesar is just a very busy man."
Aurice sighed, reminiscing about the father who used to tousle her hair and wish her sweet dreams. The father whose sole ambition was to make her happy. She missed the days when they would bond without words, similar to the solitary walk she had recently shared with Tom. Some alone time. It occurred to her that she had inadvertently shared this sentiment with Tom.
"You know, this has already happened before," Aurice confessed.
"What happened? What do you mean?" Tom inquired.
"This. I also walked with someone before. Before he turned cold to me," she explained.
"He? I thought I've been the only man in your life, Ms. Bray," Tom teased.
"What?"
"Yes, Ms. Bray. I heard you say someday you want to be my wife," he smirked.
"That isn't funny, Tom. I was referring to my father," Aurice clarified.
Returning to her thoughts, she wondered if any of it had happened or if it was all fiction. Aurice believed the memories with her father were real. As the wind caressed her face, someone gently tucked strands of her auburn hair behind her ears.
"Tom," Aurice said, surprised.
"What would a beautiful lady like you be doing out here at this time?" Tom inquired, his minty breath reaching her nostrils.
"I'm reminiscing," Aurice replied.
"Which is a waste of time," Tom commented.
"How could you say that?" Aurice asked, puzzled.
"I know who you're thinking about," Tom said. "And he has forgotten all about you, just like my filthy Mudblood father!"
Shocked, Aurice slapped Tom, tears welling up in her eyes. Nobody could dictate her thoughts and feelings. His words heightened her emotions.
"You don't know my father, Riddle! You have no right to tell me that!" she angrily declared, tears streaming down her face.
“What do you think? That I do not know your father? I can read your actions, Aurice,” Tom said, crisscrossing his wand in midair.
“What will you do with that? I’m warning you, Tom. Any bloody movement, and I will knock you out!” Aurice threatened, brandishing her wand.
“Well, Ms. Bray, you succeeded because you already knocked me out of my feet,” said Tom.
Unsure of how to react, Tom grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close, and locked his lips with hers. Aurice struggled to break free, her knees wobbling. The Whomping Willow rustled, and they were showered with a mound of snow.
Aurice laughed. He kissed her again, exhilarated by the ecstasy of affection.
Tom guided Aurice into the depths of the Dark Forest.
"Where are you taking me, Tom?" asked Aurice.
"Don't you trust me?" said Tom, kissing her cheeks.
"I do," assured Aurice.
They turned left and settled in a dead, grassy plain. Under the moonlight, Aurice saw a unicorn sparkling in the distance. It left her astonished; she had never been this close to such a majestic creature. Unicorns fascinated her in every way. Tom moved closer to it, but Aurice gripped his arm to halt him.
"Tom, you'll scare the beast," she cautioned.
"They are nothing but beasts, Aurice," Tom replied, sitting back next to her.
"Are you mad? Don't you know that unicorns are precious?" she retorted.
"Precious? A bunch of creatures that blaze at night?" snorted Tom.
"Yes. Mind you, these creatures are useful. When someone drinks a unicorn's blood, they can live eternally," elaborated Aurice.
"But they will be living," Aurice hesitated. "They will be living a cursed life."
"Really?" questioned Tom.
"Yes, really," reiterated Aurice.
When they returned to their dormitories, it was almost daylight. She petted Zany (short for Suzanne, as she thought calling her Suzanne wasn't appropriate for a pet owl) and extinguished the glow at the end of her wand.
Presumably, she should have headed to sleep, but she couldn't. She held on to the blazing sensation that made her heart palpitate. Such a wondrous feeling! How could someone live with that kind of emotion? She remembered her mother. Had she experienced similar feelings during her teenage years?
Taking out a folded picture of Suzanne Venus Bray tucked among the pages of "Futhark Magic: A Study of Ancient Runes," she felt her mother's presence. Curiosity got the best of her as she trailed her fingers over the stunning features of her mother and spoke to her as if she were there.
"Mum," she breathed out. "Have you seen me and Tom together? I have waited for that moment to come, and it came. You know that, right? How are you, Mum? Are you thinking of Daddy? He always thinks about you. It makes me jealous, but it's fine. At least he has no other woman than you. Only you."
She kissed the picture and clipped it into her journal alongside her father's lone memoir of his childhood and adolescence. This solidified her belief that he still cared for her. That's why she was angered when Tom claimed he had already erased her from his thoughts. The very words in the journal were:
The night I saw my child's eyes twinkle, I'd rather spend the day looking at her than working at the Ministry. Her little fingers clasped to mine were a perfect fit for the future Suzanne and I envisioned – always has been and always will be. Her infant laugh awakens our reverie, urging us to move forward and hope for a better milieu for her to live in.
But this world cannot be better. It is what it is. Greedy wizards will always hunger for more power. There are no lighter punishments for Azkaban prisoners. Centaurs and half-bloods, even Muggles, are forever treated unequally compared to us purebloods. Someday, this hybrid prejudice has to stop.
Aurice felt the weight of her father's ideals stir within her, a realization that she had likely inherited his principles. For her, Muggle-born witches and wizards deserved respect, extending that sentiment to the newer generations of giants and centaurs. The population needed to acknowledge their existence and consider that without them, the risk of extinction loomed. Furthermore, Aurice held high regard for Muggles, contrary to the prevailing stereotypes. In fact, one of her classmates, Lily Evans, was a Muggle-born witch, a Hufflepuff, and the brightest witch in their batch. She longed to befriend Lily, even as Bridgette and Brenda mocked Lily behind her back.
“Why do you have to talk to her? She’s not one of us,” they'd crinkle their noses at Aurice.
“She is, by far, a witch as I could see it,” Aurice fired back. “No one can cast a spell better than her. Tell me if the two of you can.”
Bridgette and Brenda looked away.
“See? End of argument,” declared Aurice.
The next day, Tom and Aurice were together, their hands entwined like most lovers. Lily ran past them, and Aurice swiftly disengaged her hand from Tom's to catch up with Lily.
“Lily!” called Aurice.
Lily was dumbfounded.
“Are you in a hurry?” she asked.
“Not at all,” answered Lily.
“May I invite you for tea sometime?”
“That’d be lovely. Thank you...”
“Aurice! Where are my manners? I’m Aurice Bray,” gesturing for a handshake.
“Very glad to meet you, Aurice,” said Lily, accepting her kind acquaintance.
“Well, see you around,” said Aurice.
Upon returning, Tom wore a crabby disposition. He was with his friends.
“How was your chat with Lily Evans?” grumbled Tom.
“Amusing, actually. She has nice eyes,” said Aurice.
“What has been your topic of discussion?” said Tom, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Is there something wrong, Tom?”
“Answer me when I ask you a question,” said Tom sternly.
“We talked about Herbology,” lied Aurice.
“Rubbish,” said Tom.
“Look, my friends are none of your business,” stepped up Aurice.
“Be friends but not with that Mudblood, Lily Evans,” said Tom bluntly.
“Let’s be clear, Tom, about this,” began Aurice. “I can’t take you insulting other people, nor can I take your sharp tongue against Lily. If you have any problem with that, I’m advising you to disappear and don’t ever speak to me again.”
She expected Tom to jog after her and scoop her hand, but no, Tom was nowhere to be found. When she turned around, he and his friends had scampered away. Unaware that Lily Evans was there, Aurice walked straight to their dormitory and plunged her face into the foam of her bed, feeling spiritually deranged. How could she throw words like that to him? She defended Lily because no one had been siding with the Muggles studying at Hogwarts or elsewhere. Lily had been studying at the castle for what... five years? Had anyone seen her worth?
Brenda tapped her back.
“Someone’s looking for you,” she said.
Wiping her tears, “Who?” said Aurice.
“That Evans girl,” Althea Desidirius chanted mirthfully.
“Thanks,” said Aurice.
She found Lily outside.
“Hello,” greeted Lily.
“Hello to you too,” returned Aurice.
“Do you want to study with me?” asked Lily.
“Lily, I...”
“It’s okay if you don’t. I understand,” said Lily, lowering her eyes.
“No, no. What I mean was I’ll prepare first. Can you wait for me for two seconds here?” asked Aurice.
“I will,” delighted Lily.
“Thanks,” said Aurice.
Tom’s voice thundered as Aurice appeared in the common room. She wasn’t expecting his presence. Eluding his glare, she let her hair loose, covering her face.
“Are you going with her?” said Tom, stalling her way.
“Haven’t I told you to get lost?” said Aurice.
“Aurice, she means of no importance to you. That Mudblood is not worth your time,” said Tom.
“Then who? You? If that’s the case, you proved to me that you’re not worth my time either. Now, step aside,” said Aurice.
That night, the newfound friends found themselves on the second floor in the Empty Corridor. Lily was flipping pages.
“Will you not be studying for O.W.L.s?” asked Lily.
“I’m not in the mood,” said Aurice.
“Sorry, I dragged you here with me. I just thought that you might feel at ease with what happened a while ago,” stated Lily.
“How did you know?” asked Aurice.
“I was there.”
“Nobody has to witness that. That was discomforting,” shared Aurice.
“Thank you, Aurice. I’m really grateful for what you did,” Lily embraced her.
Truly, Lily was an exceptional person. She had not met anyone like her. Pondering Tom’s actions, Aurice thought he was different from the majority of the Slytherins. Soon, Aurice met James Potter, Lily’s beau. He was skinny, tall, not half bad looking, with round glasses emphasizing his eyes.
“Aren’t you two taking your holiday break?” asked Aurice.
“My parents decided that I have to stay here for the holidays... and I don’t know about James. He said he’ll be guarding me,” said Aurice.
“I sure am,” James encircled his hands around her neck.
More chummy lines came out of James’s mouth. Lily loved every word. Aurice couldn’t concentrate on reading the book she borrowed from the things she brought with her.
Has she always carried all of these around? she thought, scrutinizing Lily’s notebooks. Bet this is one of the factors the girls (Bridgette and Brenda) dislike her.
It was almost dawn. Lily, James, and Aurice departed from the Empty Corridor. As Aurice entered the Slytherin Common Room, she sat near the fireplace. A blue light blazed from it, a beautiful blue dancing fire. She swayed in rapport with its movement. Luckily, the room was empty. But then, there emerged a shadow.
"Who's there?" asked Aurice.
"It's me, Bray," someone answered coldly.
She saw the figure of Amycus Crabbe. He was grinning.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
"I didn't know you could dance like Dementors," kidded Amycus.
"Get away from me. I'm in no mood for your tormenting, Crabbe," said Aurice.
"Bray, I..."
Bellatrix Lestrange interrupted the conversation. Aurice obviously saw that Bellatrix was attracted to Amycus. She observed what Amycus’ vital reaction would be. Instead of prolonging his presence, he excused himself.
“Better get my things for the holidays,” said Amycus turning to her. “Aren’t you going home, Bray?”
“Tomorrow,” she answered dryly.
Bellatrix stared at her with an unsettling intensity.
“Do you have a problem, Bellatrix?” asked Aurice.
“None. Do you?” said Bellatrix.
“I don’t.”
“You do. Tom’s mad about it.”
“Who are you to tell me that?” questioned Aurice.
“You should rid your friendship with that Mudblood, Aurice, before he does something dark,” revealed Bellatrix.
“Dark? What do you mean by that?” queried Aurice.
Surprised by Bellatrix's revelation, Aurice saw her rush to the girls' dormitory.
“Bellatrix! What is it?” shouted Aurice.
She chased after her, wand in hand.
“Colloshoo,” cast Aurice.
Suddenly, adhesive ectoplasm glued Bellatrix’s shoes to the floor.
“So, Bellatrix? What were you saying?” Aurice smoothed her hair.
“Nothing.”
“You dirty icking fraud!” offended Aurice.
“Don’t you dare call me dirty! You’re the one with a filthy Mudblood for a friend!” gnashed Bellatrix.
“Lily’s a good person. Get to know her, and you’ll see,” said Aurice. “Anteoculatia!”
While punishing her, Aurice used another spell that transformed the strands of Bellatrix’s marsh-colored ringlets into antelopes. She had no time for childish games.
“Are you spilling that dark thing you just told me, or am I going to torture you some more? Pick an option,” hollered Aurice.
“I’m not telling you anything!” bawled Bellatrix.
“Is that so? Very well...Ad”
“What is the meaning of this?” growled a stout, bald man named Rickshaw Smirthsmith, Head of Slytherin.
“Professor,” gasped Aurice.
Smirthsmith performed the countercurse for the spells she used.
“Ms. Lestrange, your parents are waiting for you at the Great Hall. The train’s leaving in fifteen minutes,” said Smirthsmith, his anger flaring. “As for you, Ms. Bray, what is the damn thing you’re doing with Ms. Lestrange? It’s as if you haven’t been taught that magic shouldn’t cause treachery to your fellow witch. Give me a reason why you have to do that.”
“Mr. Smirthsmith Sir, Bellatrix told me...”
Tom cut her off.
“I should be blamed for what she did Sir.”
“Mr. Riddle. What are you doing here? This is a girls' dormitory!” fumed Professor Smirthsmith.
“I have to help Aurice stuff her things,” were the words Tom invented.
“Lies, Mr. Riddle!” said Smirthsmith.
“Aurice, tell Professor Smith,” signaling Aurice to nod.
“Smirthsmith,” corrected the Professor.
“I apologize, Professor Hearthsmith,” said Tom.
“Smirth, with a similar pronunciation of ‘earth,’” emphasized Smirthsmith, revealing his two front crooked teeth.
“Yes, Professor Yirthsmith,” said Tom.
“Mr. Riddle, I know you are doing it on purpose. You have been in this house for most of your life, and you don’t know me? Hah! You mock me, Riddle!” pointing his wand at the elegant youngster.
Tom and Aurice ganged up on the incredulous Smirthsmith.
“Believe me, Sir, your name is too exquisite to remember,” said Tom.
“Beg not to disagree with him, Professor. Your surname is astoundingly unique. Exquisite as he speaks. Never doubt Tom,” Aurice winked at Smirthsmith.
“Incredible,” said Tom.
“Divine,” Aurice exchanged looks.
“Excruciating,” said Tom.
“Attractive,” said Aurice.
“Arousing,” said Tom.
In a split second, Smirthsmith’s eyeballs were ready to pop out. Aurice had not expected that word either. She conveyed a worried look at Tom.
“I meant magnificent, Professor,” coughed Tom, slightly loosening his tie. “Ehem!”
“Enough of you two. You’re all saying those ‘cus I’m leaving Hogwarts.”
Surprised, “Excuse me, Professor, but where will you go?” asked Aurice politely.
“Potions Master Horace Slughorn will be replacing me. So as the classes will resume next year, don’t expect me to openly welcome you all back,” Smirthsmith said as if addressing the entirety of Slytherin.
“But, Sir, you haven’t reached the age of retirement yet,” reasoned Aurice, already missing Smirthsmith in that moment.
“I choose what’s best for me, Ms. Bray. For your information, I did not retire. I was terminated by the headmaster himself,” said Smirthsmith. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d be in my office running my last errands.”
Aurice felt sad for the Professor. Why was he terminated? Or was it a cover-up? What’s the real reason? These questions are not yet answered until today.
Tom back hugged her.
“I’m so sorry,” said Tom.
“For what?”
“For treating you badly this morning,” Tom’s voice was warm.
“You are forgiven.”
Those were pleasant days. Later, Aurice would regret the day she told Tom about Unicorns and received his mushiness that brainwashed her. She had a hunch, but it was too late.
She learned of his plots to rule the wizarding community. She opened her eyes. A wide room appeared. A baby cradle was in the middle, pictures of a bear sitting in a moon sleeping hung on the wall, and a rat-designed rattle was set aside adjacent to the lamp. The twenty-one-year-old Aurice faced her daughter in fear.
The room was unfamiliar, yet a sense of déjà vu lingered. Aurice realized she had entered a future she never imagined. The visions of Tom's manipulations, and the whispers of dark ambitions, collided with the reality of her motherhood. She was torn between her past and her responsibility for the future.
As she looked down at the innocent face in the cradle, her resolve strengthened. In the silence of that room, Aurice Bray vowed to protect her daughter from the shadows of Voldemort's dark legacy.