Daughter of the Stars

2 August 1995

Privet Drive

Alhena sighed as she watched her idiot brother get into trouble again. Not only was she freezing – and reliving her parents’ last moments – she was also terrified for her brother and cousin. She was shaking when she noticed Dudley slump over, and barely noticed her hands shaking or the faintly shimmering barrier that sprang up seconds after Harry managed to summon his Patronus.

They attempted to carry Dudley between them, and Alhena couldn’t bring herself to answer when Harry gave her a look that clearly asked the question of “Did he get Kissed?”

She was the one to break the news to Petunia and Vernon, swearing that they tried, honest, and watched the two take him to the hospital. And so, they were alone when the expulsion notice came, and later the notice of the hearing, as well as Arthur’s letter.

When she heard the slow thump come up the stairs, Alhena tightened her grip on her wand. She knew it was going to give her problems, and that she needed a replacement, but for now, it was a familiar comfort. “Who’s there?”

At Harry’s incredulous question of “Professor Moody?” Alhena’s grip loosened a mere fraction. When Remus asked what Harry’s Patronus was, Alhena just scoffed. And then his amber eyes were on her, and she could sense him thinking what to ask her. What he settled on was pretty surprising. “Which spirits were bothering you when you were writing your essay on the properties of asphodel in potions?”

Well, she was thrown for a bit, because that was an incredibly specific question. “Fred and Sal.”

“Who?” Remus tilted his head.

“Linfred and Salazar.”

“That’s Alhena all right.” Remus laughed.

Alhena didn’t last through half of Moody’s plan of action, before she scoffed. “With all respect due to you, Moody, Dora, Remus, Shacklebolt, we have literally received summons to a hearing over underage magic. Flying on broomsticks, regardless of the fact that it’s a terrible idea because I don’t do broom travel well, would be a potential violation of the Statute of Secrecy. For those of you idiots that have never actually spent any time in the Muggle world – no, Muggle Studies doesn’t count, the subject is only accurate to the 1940s – they are very well versed in air travel via planes. So, it’s a terrible idea and I will shame you all for it, including Dumbledore if I must.”

Moody laughed. “Someone with sense, at last. I was suggesting portkeys anyway, but Albus shot me down.”

“What does he lace those lemon drops of his with?” Alhena muttered a quick prayer for strength as she and Harry fetched their trunks, before grasping hold of the portkey.

The sensation of portkey travel was horrendous, as usual, and it took all of her willpower not to give in to her nausea. She barely managed to memorise the secret before they were corralled inside.

Grimmauld Place

Alhena took in the dark décor of the hallway she’d stepped into, finding it oddly soothing. And then Dora knocked over the troll leg umbrella stand, and the draperies flew open. The unbearable screeching voice of Walburga Black filled the hallway, and that almost flipped a switch in Alhena’s head as a strong burst of accidental magic surged from her and completely silenced the portrait, pulling the draperies shut again. When she came out of the magic haze, she noticed several people – and portraits – were looking at her in slight fear and respect. “What?”

“That’s the most powerful blast of accidental magic I’ve ever seen. Nobody has ever managed to shut that portrait up.” Remus’ awed voice sounded behind them.

“Walburga Black, I presume, then. She’s a horrid old harridan even in the afterlife,” Alhena muttered.

Those words were rewarded by the sound of Sirius’ bark-like laughter. “Horrid old harridan… I do quite like the alliteration.”

“Alright, I’ll show you to some bedrooms. Harry, dear, you’ll be sharing with Ron,” Molly’s voice sounded through the hallway. “Alhena, dear, I don’t quite know who to pair you with.”

Sirius interrupted before either of the teens could say anything. “I think she can have Regulus’ bedroom. Nobody else wants it because it’s too Slytherin for anyone’s tastes.”

“Slytherin décor doesn’t bother me. At least it’s not overwhelmingly Gryffindor red. I’m questioning Ric’s sanity at that particular shade of red.” Alhena shrugged with one shoulder. “He’s also the most annoying Founder, and I say that after losing half a night’s worth of sleep listening to Ro and Sal argue about the properties of basilisk venom in certain potions, multiple times.”

Sirius just laughed, having heard about Alhena’s necromancy struggles from Harry, and later Hermione and Ron. “Alright, I’ll show you up.”

Several flights of stairs later, Sirius pointed out the two rooms. “That is mine, and this one was Reggie’s.” He opened the door and stepped aside, letting Alhena enter.

She’d barely stepped foot over the threshold when a wizened old house-elf appeared, causing her to jump ever so slightly. She listened to the house elf’s – Kreacher’s – rant, before crouching to his level. “Kreacher, I’m sure you’re a loyal house elf and are proud to serve the House of Black. I assure you that I don’t intend to damage any of Master Regulus’ belongings. In fact, if you could move his belongings somewhere safe so that they’re out of harm’s way, I’d be most grateful, because I don’t want to damage them either.” At Kreacher’s incredulous look, she added, “The House of Black is an old family with a lot of status, but the house does not reflect that. Would you please clean the house so that it reflects the status of the House of Black? And please do stay out of Mrs Weasley’s way when she is cooking. She doesn’t mean any disrespect, but she is used to cooking on her own, since she doesn’t have house-elves.”

“I can be doing that, Mistress Alhena.” With a snap of his fingers, all of Regulus’ belongings were neatly put in boxes, and with another snap they and Kreacher were gone, and the room was much cleaner. Alhena turned around to find Sirius gaping at her in disbelief, and arched an eyebrow.

“How did you even get the cranky old house-elf to do anything? I’ve been trying to get him to do something for months. And you barely meet him and he’s wrapped around your little finger.” Sirius shook his head in disbelief. “Necromancer, capable of charming a cranky house-elf, Parselmouth… What are you not capable of?”

“Flying on a broom, ergo playing Quidditch. I get sick within seconds, because I get vertigo, fast. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I got Fleamont and Lily’s Potions talent.” Alhena stuck her nose up in indignation as Sirius laughed. “And I don’t have the ridiculous Potter hair, and thank Circe for that.”

Sirius just shook his head in disbelief. Alhena was a walking bag of surprises, always had been.