Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
You know you can’t hold me forever
I didn’t sign up with you
I’m not a present for your friends to open
This boy’s too young to be singing the blues
27th July 1974
Ara woke in the dead of the night - snapping upright as a whimper sounded beside her.
Visions of Quidditch games in her mind; a blend of memory and dream, featuring both James and Harry. She could always tell them apart.
Harry played Seeker. His games were far more tumultuous - her heart racing as he fell from his broom, time after time. Crooked glasses strewn on the ground as crowds swarmed him. Always too packed for her to reach him.
Dreams of James were different. First, he played as Chaser. And to this date had not fallen off his broom during a match. His matches were thrilling. No fear, only awe as he chased players across the pitch - shooting goal after goal and showboating with that classic lopsided Potter grin. They were happy memories. Good days and merry evenings as they ate too much and drank their weight in butterbeer and pumpkin juice.
They were decidedly better.
Every dream of Harry was like some twisted mirror to James life. The same circuit of friends; only facing dire situations compared to the mundane mischief of the Marauders.
If anything, he was some combination of all of them. Her anger and self-sacrifice boxed in the form of an even more dishevelled James Potter with all his talent. Remus’s dry wit and Peter’s eye for that which others miss.
And whatever world, whatever future or alternate universe she saw; it would only serve as a warning that her time was short.
Because so far, her prevailing theory of her dreams was that she was attuned to some future reincarnation of herself. Similar in every way that mattered, save for a few cosmetic and birth differences.
Doomed to war.
That was the prevailing truth.
They were all doomed in this upcoming war.
As another whimper caught her ear, Ara snapped from her hazing dream analysis to spy her youngest brother shuddering in his sleep.
Oh, how could she have forgotten about Reg’s nightmares? It had been a year since his last (that she’d witnessed). But growing up in Grimmauld left scars beneath the skin.
“Reggie,” she whispered, shaking her brother lightly, “she isn’t here, my star.”
He did not wake immediately, merely stilling slightly as she stroked his hair and whispered reassurances.
It was only when Sirius turned in his sleep beside him that Reg bolted upright - arms flailing as he fumbled for something to ground him. She caught him, holding his shoulders steady as she whispered reassurances. Grey eyes locked - utter relief shared as Regulus slumped into her and clung tighter.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been checking up.” Ara murmured, voice full of self-loathing. “Are they bad again?”
“No, no.” He shook his head adamantly. “Just being back here…” he did not finish his thought.
Being back was almost a torture in itself.
Trapped roaming those familiar halls, stuck in the same cupboards and bedrooms.
“I know.” Ara exhaled, pulling her brother to lie back down. She lay beside him, turning onto her side to face him. He mimicked the movement; smoothing his hair away to see her better.
“How do you do it?” He whispered. “It’s awful for us, but it’s so much worse for you. Why don’t we run away properly?”
“And face Walburga’s wrath?” Ara frowned, chewing at her lip. “If I ran away, it wouldn’t be like with Andy. They’d kill me for it, and they’d send you both to Durmstrang to be away from sympathising influences.”
“I’d go there, if it meant you were safe.”
“I’d rather get the two of you out, and worry for myself after. I’m eldest, Reg. You might be heir, but this is my duty.”
“Stop saying that.” He murmured, eyes a little droopy as he blinked - sleep clawing at him.
“Alright.” She replied, voice nearly inaudible. “I’ll dream of that, just for you.”
“I have a terrible feeling.” Reg spoke finally, drifting back into slumber.
“Me too, Reg.” Ara shuddered, turning to face the ceiling - her twin’s hand finding hers in his sleep. “Me too.”
She did not rest at all that night. Try as she might.
——
With threats of curses and violence, the siblings were forced into the formal sitting room that afternoon. Walburga hissed as she picked at their appearances; charms and glamours cast to make them look neater. Pulls to their collars, tugs to their growing hair.
“I expect all of you to be on your very best behaviour.” Their mother seethed, glaring at each of her children in turn. “You cannot afford to make a poor impression here. It will be the end of us, of this Great and Noble House.”
“What’s going on, Mother?” Reg asked, quiet and polite as he assumed his role in any interaction with their mother. The quiet, doormat of a son that let her degrade him - only to whisper her words to his siblings later.
“Today you will be meeting our Lord.” Walburga puffed her chest - this odd and twisted glee spreading across her stony features. An excitement for this mysterious figure. This ‘Lord’ that kept popping up in conversation - from Bella to Lucius to Killian and Evan… everyone but them seemed to know this Dark Lord. “We are at war!” She spoke with such urgent devotion. It was terrifying. “These Muggle-loving freaks want to change the way we use magic. They want to take away what makes us wizards and witches! Unless we all devote ourselves to the Dark Lord, we will lose our hold on magic. It will be obliterated by Mudbloods and half-breeds.”
“If he’s some lord, how come we’ve never heard of him before?” Sirius glared, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“I have been away on business.” It was as though the warm air evaporated - leaving only a chill in its wake. On instinct, the siblings moved closer together, Ara’s hands reaching for her brothers. Reg wrapped his in hers, squeezing as they took sight of this Dark Lord their mother preached about so regularly as he materialised beside their mother.
The fabled Dark Lord looked less man than marble. Ivory skin that held no texture or tone - eerie in it’s blankness. He was a frightening figure, his hair slicked back with gel in an old fashioned style and blood coloured eyes roaming the siblings as they looked up at him in terror.
“My Lord.” Their mother simpered, curtsying poorly. All eyes clocked onto her wobble as she righted.
“This must be your eldest.” His voice was oddly melodic, eyes fixed on Ara as she gulped with nerves, griping her wand beneath her sleeve. Sirius impulsively reached for her, freezing as the man followed his movement with his eyes. Gone was the boy’s usual bravado; replaced by the sinking feeling in the gut that this Dark man radiated.
“Yes, my Lord.” Walburga tittered, nodding eagerly. “She is betrothed to Lord Flint.”
“Oh yes,” he hummed, watching her curiously, “I remember his petition. Perhaps I ought to have spied her before I signed.”
“My Lord?”
“I see your sons are not in Slytherin House.” The Dark Lord commented - ignoring Walburga’s interjection as his eyes flickered to Reg’s yellow shirt and Sirius’s unkept hair. “No matter.” He drawled, eyes flicking back to Ara. “One need not be a Slytherin to have use.”
She gulped as he stepped closer, head tilted as he appraised her. It took all her willpower to stop herself shaking - stiffening as she froze in place.
“You hold great anger,” he commented in a low voice, hand moving towards hers, “the kind that only red wood can channel without bursting at the seams.” His fingers brushed hers, twisting her palm to slip her wand into his own hand. He appraised it curiously, looking to her with an odd expression. As though she were some great mystery to solve; one he was excited to unravel. She held her breath as he ran a finger along the carvings - feeling the weight in his palm.
Without preamble, he offered it back to her - the teen snatching it uncarefully as she offered a smile more skin to a grimace. With a faint chuckle, he leaned in close.
“I sense I’ll be hearing of you soon.” He breathed against her ear as she willed herself not to flinch away. “And I will be expecting great things. I suspect Flint was onto something when he picked you, and I am enthused to see how you bloom.”
She could not suppress her shudder at that, flinching as the Dark Lord laughed in her ear - stepping back to nod at her mother.
“Are you staying for tea, my Lord?” Walburga simpered.
“Not today.” He shook his head. “Though,” his eyes darted to the teenagers - lingering for a moment on Ara, then her wand gripped in her hand, “I suspect I may check in from time to time.”
With that, the fabled Dark Lord spun away - apparating on the spot with a great crack. For a moment, they stood in silence. All finally breathing properly, the terror washing slightly as the darkness began to clear. Ara looked to her brothers; both rattled by this domineering man. Regulus looked to her with panic.
What the fuck was that?
Ara’s head shot to face Sirius - spying the panic in his eyes as he looked to her.
I don’t know.
He held your wand, Hermie. She let him take your wand.
I know, alright, she snapped in reply. He let out a little squeak, prompting their mother to finally remember their presence in the room. Before the witch could comment or shout or do whatever she felt like that evening - Ara looked again between her brothers and squared her shoulders.
“Fuck this.” Ara seethed, grabbing her brother’s hands and yanking them from the room. Neither boy fought her actions.
Ignoring their mother’s shrieks, she pulled the boys up the stairs - barking orders for them to pack their things. With heavy understanding, they obeyed, quickly yanking the few belongings that weren’t in trunks back in and slamming them shut.
No words had to be exchanged; a desperate look to their eyes as Sirius grabbed Ara’s trunk in his free hand and followed her and Reg down the stairs. She led the way with her wand pointed ahead.
At the bottom of the stairs, their parents blocked their passage. Walburga, naturally, took the lead - a look of utter fury plastered on her ugly face.
“Stop this, right now!” She hissed, pointing her wand at them in warning.
“We aren’t staying here! I’m not letting you keep us trapped in this fucking house for a second longer.” Ara hissed, shooting a stinging hex at Walburga. It knocked her off kilter just long enough for the siblings to run past - desperate to make it to the Floo.
Unfortunately, Walburga was quick to regain her senses, rushing before them to block the hallway door; their only exit. Her husband following obediently - eyes glassy as they so often were these days.
Walburga stood tall and defiant - wand pointed straight at Ara’s chest. The weight of her magic burned from the tip against Ara’s skin. Sirius stepped forwards, pressing against Ara’s shoulder as she held him back. Reg stood to her right, shoulders proud as he stayed by her side.
“I should have snuffed you in the cradle.”
“Do it then, you coward!” Ara screamed back, unyielding. “You always say you wished you’d killed me when I was born, so why don’t you? Just kill me or shut up about it already!”
“How dare you!”
“Oh, just shut up! Either kill me or let us go.” She titled her chin upwards; defiantly. “Because we aren’t signing our lives to your stupid Dark Lord, and I’m not letting you keep my brothers here for another minute. Your ‘little heir’ would rather blindly leave than follow you. Your abandoned starter-heir already has a foot out the door. Let us leave.” She implored, not daring to look away from her mothers eyes.
It felt like some kind of twisted staring contest.
Seconds that dragged like hours, stood there waiting. Watching their mother look to them like strangers; as creatures she both detested and hardly knew.
“Let them go.” Orion finally spoke, the standoff halted by his weary words. For a moment, the fog to his eyes appeared to lift - clarity they hadn’t seen since Reg had gone to Hogwarts. “If they don’t wish to stay, let them leave.”
Regulus looked behind at his father - a silent gratitude twinkling in his grey eyes. The older man merely looked away.
Wordlessly, the three siblings pushed past their mother. Bags rattling as they bunched into the Floo - Sirius grabbing the powder on the way.
“I should have had dogs.” Walburga spat as the Floo roared to life. “They would have been more obedient than you!”
Their stomachs spun as the Floo deposited them on the Potter’s carpet - their bags tumbling before them. Regulus managed to catch Ara’s arm before she face planted. Unfortunately, he was not quick enough to save his brother; the elder boy landing with a great oomph.
Immediately, he jumped to his feet and brushed himself off. Quick to try and exit the Potter’s guest Floo and find company.
Wait a second, Siri, Ara spoke over the bond. With a confused frown, he turned to face her.
“What’s wrong?” He asked aloud, Reg turning to face his sister with a matching frown.
“I’m not…” she let out a long exhale, willing herself to say the words aloud, “I’m not staying here.”
“Where are we going?” Sirius asked, stepping close enough for Ara to place a hand on both their shoulders.
“You both are going to stay here. Be with the Potters.” She squeezed their shoulders, a sad smile glossing her features. “They care so much. You need that.”
“You need it too.” Sirius implored.
“I’m too angry right now. I can’t be… I can’t sit around and play daughter right now.” She admitted. “I sent an owl to Andy before the summer and she says she’s got a spare room. Offered to let me stay for a bit, just to get my head straight.”
“You should go.” Regulus spoke the words as if it were the most difficult act of his life. Even more than leaving his parents home. This was what could break him. He had given her his heart. As she smiled at him with gratitude, he knew; it was in safe hands. “Figure yourself out before being our big sister again. Just make sure you send me at least two owls per week.” He warned, nudging Sirius to get him out of his funk.
“I promise.” She reached for him, hugging her brother to her chest. When had he gotten taller than her? Only an inch shorter than Sirius now. Pulling back, she looked to her twin with glassy eyes.
I promise to talk to you through the bond every day.
Every single day?
Yep.
“I’m gonna miss you, Herms.” Sirius dramatically sniffled, lunging to swallow his siblings in his arms, rocking them for a few seconds.
“I’ll see you both soon, yeah?” She spoke once they parted. “I’ll find you on the train.”
“You’d better.” Sirius warned her.
“Say hi from us to Andy.” Reg chimed in.
“Will do.” She nodded, stepping back into the Floo.
Reg did not wait around to watch her go. He pulled Sirius along, closer to the doors.
Still, both turned before exiting the Floo room - just in time to see the green flames overtake Ara. Her eyes met theirs just before she vanished into the fire.
And both brothers straightened their shoulders, turning and leaving to find a Potter.
Praying to all the spirits, every god in every religion, that she would be alright.
——
A pressed buttercup lay behind a glass and steel frame - backed by the back of a Hogwarts letter. They sat on the desk of Lily Evans.
Her monument to finding magic. The first flower she made bloom, and the proof that she was something special. Laying pressed upon the letter that confirmed her suspicions. Confirmed what Sev had been saying for years.
That she was magic.
He’d made the frame for her at school, he said. Snuck into her room when he came round and took them so he could put it together for her. He had always been a bit of a sticky fingered boy; little things that were hardly missed, but still. At least he was using it for a sweet purpose, Lily supposed.
Frankly, she was getting sick of the whiplash. His quiet brooding at school, the way he’d over the year start spending less and less time with her. By summer term, she saw him perhaps once a month to study. And he’d spend that time barely offering comment beyond tuts at her mentions of her friends. As if she were expected to be alone without him. She’d spent the last term wanting to rip her hair out over his behaviour. Wanting to corner him and yell, tell him off for doing exactly what he swore he wouldn’t, time after time. To shake her head and sigh that she was a fool for always believing him. Insane, for doing the same thing over and over again.
And then he’d made her a frame.
Part of her wanted to scoff at the gesture, to tell him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. How dare he? How dare he do something so minimal to make up for so much crap?
But Lily Evans had been raised a certain way. And every time she wanted to break, her mother’s voice rang in her head. The stern midlands drawl of the Evans mother - chiding her for not being polite. To keep quiet and nice. Never too loud or unforgiving.
If only.
Sometimes, she thought it must be easier to be that way. To let it all wash over your feathers and down the ducks back, or whatever the saying was. It was far more difficult to be so temperamental, Lily thought. When her temper boiled over and she saw a perceived injustice, Lily was always liable to snap. Try as she might, she had always been a little too quick to bite back.
She still got into rather loud arguments with James Potter; the boy too easygoing for her fried nerves. He was one of those. The people who let it all roll off their back.
At least Sirius, Remus and Pete had the decency to let things get to them. Sirius, with any comment of his siblings or his family and their wrath. The day that the news of Ara’s betrothal leaked, he’d gotten into so many fights over people’s cruel comments, that he’d ended up in detention for a solid month after. Remus was shakable if someone commented on his scars. He’d hunker into himself and get all quiet. His anger was slower, more internal. His hands sometimes twitched, as though he were forcing them not to strike. Pete was similar, in the way he pulled in - as though retreating into a shell. Always letting whispers that he was the least smart or the least interesting… always letting them into his ears. Boxing them, as though to chide his flesh for paying attention. All the while, shrinking.
It was noticeable. At least to Lily.
Perhaps she watched too often. She’d always know when Ara was due for a bad night; the exhaustion was different on those days. And obviously, she knew that Alice Longbottom was avoiding them and spending so much time in the Hufflepuff dorms having sleepovers because she had a crush on Amelia Bones’s brother. That Marlene was avoiding the dorm because she didn’t like Severus, or the way Lily fought with James, and so had elected to occupy the Ravenclaw dorm and annoy her sister.
Maybe she ought to feel more ashamed for that, than her quiet observations.
Come September, she’d speak to Marlene. Apologise and explain her side of things. Hope that the spiky blonde would listen and agree to try anew. She’d tell Alice to come sleep in her own bed, to hang out with her dorm mates for a change. Invite Pandora to sleep over on days when she knew Marlene would be in the Ravenclaw dorm. Like a little House exchange.
She’d stop yelling so much at Potter. Start calling him James and try to treat him as she did the others of his little gang.
And if Lily could make it that far, she’d tell Sev to figure his loyalties out, and not to find her until he did. To give her a break from his agonising inconsistency.
He’d been over for dinner most days that summer. Helping her father fix up parts of the car - holding baskets as her mother picked vegetables from the garden. Skirting the edges of her Muggle family and lapping up the attention. All the while cursing out their kind under his breath, she supposed.
At least he openly disliked Petunia. Though, everyone did.
It was as though Lily’s depreciating thought of her sister summoned the girl.
A sharp knock sounded on her closed door - followed by the hinges swinging wide open as Petunia did not wait for Lily’s shout for entrance. Not like she was meant to, like they always fought about.
“Can’t you ruddy knock?” Lily snapped, turning in her chair to glare at her sister.
Petunia was dolled up that evening. Trendy blue shadow coating her narrowed eyes with sleek curls to her blonde hair. Their outfits were eerily similar - save that Petunia’s was far more polished. Both in white shirts and blue shorts. Though Lily’s shorts were denim; the shirt a wrinkled tee. Her sister looked like she could be in a catalogue with her new flared shorts and pressed collared shirt.
All skinny and stunning.
The pretty sister, to her odd witchy counterpart.
Sure, Lily’s parents were entranced by magic. A little frightened, certainly, but so excited to learn about this world their daughter lived within. As long as her grades were good, that was all they really cared to know from her.
At least Petunia openly called her the ugly one. It felt worse, hearing her mother say that people were beautiful in their own ways.
“Like I wanted to come in here.” Petunia scoffed in reply, folding her arms over her chest. “Mummy told me to tell you that dinner will be in an hour. I’ll be out.”
“With that boy, again?” Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes.
The boy in question was this moron by the name of Vernon Dursley. A former bully of the sisters, turned to the prettiest boy in Pet’s school. Graduated now and working at the used car dealership, down by the lake quarry.
“Don’t be bitter, just because no one want to date you.” Her elder sister glared, brushing those stupid blonde curls off her shoulder.
“I don’t mind, as long as I don’t date someone like Vernon Dursley.” Lily bit back, standing from her chair to not be so unlevelled.
“What’s wrong with Vernon?”
“What’s bloody right with him, for a start.” Lily scoffed derisively, her sister’s glare narrowing spectacularly.
“I hate you, I hate you!” Petunia snapped; her lovely face pinking awfully. “Just be happy for me!”
“Like you were for me?” Lily shouted back, clenching her fists to will her magic to stay dormant. “Vernon is a bully and he’s bad news!”
“Who said that?” Petunia demanded. “Because if it was your freak friend Severus, then I’ve got news for you.” She huffed.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lily grit out.
“Girls, please quiet down.” Their mother called from the doorway - suddenly present at the edges of their fight.
“No.” Petunia spit, crossing her arms over her chest. “Let’s talk about Severus, since you seem so happy discussing the boys in my life.”
“Pet, can we please keep things civil. Severus is a perfectly nice boy.” Mrs Evans frowned, smoothing the creases of her skirt as she stepped into the room.
“Why are you picking on me?” Petunia stepped back petulantly. “She’s the freak! He’s the one that started it!”
“Pet!”
“She read my letters! She put tadpoles in my pockets and spelled my hair funny. And I blame him! He was the one that told her about it all!” Petunia accused, pointing a finger at her sister. “We were normal! Why did you ruin it?”
“I didn’t mean to!” Lily bit back. “I was born with magic, Tuney, and I’m sorry that you weren’t! I’m sorry that Severus was too. But stop blaming me for being ordinary!”
A gasp sounded in the room.
And though she knew she should stop, Lily did not.
“I wanted to share it all with you! But you just aren’t meant for it. You’re just a Muggle.”
“I think that’s enough from the pair of you.” Their mother’s voice sounded softly from the doorway.
And suddenly, the witch’s eyes bulged as her words caught up with her. Seeing the hurt on her mother’s face, the loathing on Petunia’s.
This was a misdoing Lily would never be able to mend, she realised as she looked to her mother and saw her look away. With one stupid moment of teenage emotion, she had cracked something irreparably between herself and her family.
“Mam-” She tried to approach, but her mother merely held a hand between them.
“I’m going to get a start on tea. Should be ready for five.” She spoke softly, eyes refusing to meet her child’s. “Perhaps Severus would like to join us?”
“I’ll go round and ask.” Lily sighed, eyes flicking to Petunia for a final time as she grabbed her cardigan and slipped from the room - biting back tears.
One stupid moment. And she could never take it away.