Throne of Magic

Exactly three weeks since the arrival of the lost Potter twin, the occupants of Hogwarts arose to a lovely autumn day.

The sun rose in a pool of crimson and gold, a honeyed light spreading across the sky as it chased the night away. The dappled sun shone through the trees of the Forbidden Forest,  its luminous rays reflected on the glittering lake and bathing the grounds of Hogwarts in a soft morning glow. Puffy wisps of clouds dotted the clear sky, drifting lazily in the breeze. 

An earthy smell permeated the air, the only indication of the rain shower that had taken place the night before, the pitter-patter of the rain only sounding after the inhabitants of the ancient school had fallen into the arms of Morpheus.

The low buzz of chatter filled the great hall as the hordes of students gradually trickled in, the soft thumps and clangs of utensils and objects accompanying their mindless speech.

“Bit early for owl post, isn’t it?” commented a Hufflepuff, drawing the hall’s attention to a lonesome owl flying into the hall.

It had sharp eyes and beautiful tawny plumage, large wings extended in flight. It was truly a magnificent creature of an expensive breed, therefore it was to no one’s surprise that it flew over to the Slytherin table.

Strangely enough, instead of dropping its letter near Rowle or Malfoy, it landed on the extended arm on Helena LeFay, perching on the cloth-covered appendage easily. The hall watched eagerly as she brought the owl to her chest, gently stroking the owl’s head with her knuckles as it preened. She removed the letter from its beak, dropping it onto her lap.

 She reached over to the untouched greasy platter of bacon in front of her, carefully picking up a floppy piece and holding it to the owl’s now vacant beak. The owl hooted in delight, pecking her hand affectionately before grabbing the piece of bacon and soaring off.

“Who’s owl was that?” demanded Draco, the Malfoy Heir having appointed himself the position of Helena’s best friend, unaware that the Heiress was merely indulging him.

“A friend.” was Helena’s succinct reply.

She opened the envelope, pulling out a long sheet of parchment. A bright smile appeared on her face as she read through the letter, eyes lighting up as her grin grew impossibly wider.

Draco frowned at her expression, turning to the rest of his friends and saying: “Weird. I haven’t seen her smile like that before. Any idea who the letter’s from?”

“A friend,” repeated Pansy, a scowl twisting her features as she looked at the girl. 

Her crush on Draco was widely known, and she didn’t exactly appreciate Draco cosying up to this new girl.

Blaise snickered, slipping into the seat next to Draco. 

“That, my dear friends, was the owl belonging to one Fredrick Laurent, one of France’s most eligible bachelors.”

Blaise’s face took on a wicked smirk as he leant forwards and whispered conspiratorially: “With the exception of Wizengamot meetings and political events, neither she nor Fredrick were seen all summer.”

Draco scoffed, ignoring the way something stiffened inside him.

Making his words as indifferent and polite as possible, he asked casually: “So? It’s just a coincidence.”

Blaise looked at him, something almost pitying - which was ridiculous, Blaise didn’t do pity - in his gaze as he replied: “I got a letter from Helena during summer. It was sent with his owl.”

Draco bit his lip uncertainly, breaking off the conversation and returning his gaze to his plate and ignoring Pansy who prattled on and on.

“Hey, Draco?” called Helena, scribbling something onto a piece of paper.

He looked up.

“Yes?”

“Are visitors allowed in Hogwarts?”

Draco nodded, staring at the piece of parchment curiously and replying: “They are. Black and the Potters are here all the time.”

He inclined his head towards the head table where the aforementioned trio sat, deep in conversation with Dumbledore.

Helena sneered in their direction, rolling her eyes when Lily stood from her seat and walked to the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly with her son, whose loud and inaccurate boasts were heard even from the other side of the room.

As if sensing her gaze, the red-headed woman looked up, trying for a pleasant smile which faltered when Helena’s lip curled in disdain, looking her up and down before turning away, openly dismissing her.

“Don’t remind me,” muttered Helena, green eyes fixed on the jug of pumpkin juice before her as she glared at it.

She scoffed contemptuously when she saw the Potters making their way over, dragging their son along with them. She stood up, brushing invisible lint off her robes and gathering her belongings. 

“I’ll be in the common room,” she announced, turning on her heel and flouncing off, ignoring the Potters who had just arrived.

They stood there, crestfallen looks on their faces as they stared at her retreating back.

~

The students of Hogwarts were taking full advantage of their weekend, a few choosing to catch up on homework while the rest enjoyed the beauty of the grounds, especially the Durmstrang students, who admitted that they never had such lovely weather at their schools.

The students entered for lunch, expecting a drama-free meal as they continued on with their peaceful day.

Unfortunately for them, drama arrived in the form of one Fredrick Laurent busting his way through the doors of the great hall.

True to the rumours, Frederick was one handsome young man, possessing a head of curly black hair and striking almond-shaped cerulean eyes that offsetted his pale skin. He had the typical chiselled features of a pureblood, sharp cheekbones, an angular chin and a straight nose.

He was dressed smartly in navy blue robes, the clicking of his shoes against stone sounding through the hall.

Dumbledore eyed the young man warily, recognizing him from the France Ministry.

“My apologies for the interruption Headmaster,” spoke the wizard in accented English, a brief flash of disgust appearing on his face as he looked at the wizened man. “I was told I could find James Potter here?”

James stood up and moved forward, confusion lining his tone.

“You were correct. May I ask what business you have with me?”

Frederick gestured to the side of the hall, all too aware of the eyes watching his every move.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to have this conversation elsewhere?”

“No.”

Despite his rude answer, the boy merely eyed him for a few moments before dipping his head in allowance, introducing himself smoothly: “If that is what you wish, Lord Potter. My name is Fredrick Laurent, and I’m here on behalf of my father, Minister Laurent of France.”

James nodded stiffly, words awkward when he spoke.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fredrick. You can call me James.”

Fredrick barely glanced at him before disregarding his words, replying politely: “That is unnecessary, Lord Potter, I’m perfectly alright with addressing each other in accordance to our stations.”

Ignoring the gawking face of the Potter Lord, Fredrick continued smoothly: “My father has requested that I convey his thanks.”

“You saved my father’s life. Thank you.” He added, purposefully leaving out the fact that it has been James’s mistake that had allowed the criminal to leave Auror custody in the first place.

Judging by the bright flush on his face, Potter was well aware of that.

“Is that all?” blurted out James, mortified at the prospect of his wife and son discovering his fumble.

He hastily covered his mistake at the raised eyebrow sent his way, babbling: “Not that your presence isn’t welcome, just-”

Frederick raised a hand, looking to the sky as if asking the gods themselves for patience.

“Yes, we are done, Lord Potter.” before James could interrupt, Frederick continued quickly. “However, I came with the primary intention of meeting with a friend of mine.”

The staff exchanged confused looks, Dumbledore questioning: “May I know who exactly you are meeting?”

Instead of answering, Frederick craned his neck, peering over the heads of the watching Hogwarts students.

“Helena!” he called, voice delighted as he caught a glimpse of the raven-haired girl.

The girl in question turned at his voice, a large grin stretching across her face.

“Fredrick!”

She made her way towards him swiftly and allowing him to fling his arms around her, smiling fondly as he burst into rapid-fire French, finding a familiar solace in his arms.

“Ms LeFay?” queried Dumbledore, looking at the two in confusion. “I was not aware you had invited a guest.”

Helena looked at him, saying with as much politeness as she could muster: “Professor? I was not aware having a visitor was against the rules. After all,” - her eyes flickered over the Potters - “Lord and Lady Potter are frequent guests.”

Seeing a chance to begin a relationship with her eldest, Lily jumped in, saying hurriedly: “No, it’s fine for him to be here.”

She smiled openly at the young man who had hugged her daughter, holding out a hand and greeting him: “It’s nice to meet you, Heir Laurent.”

Ignoring her husband’s protests at her words, she continued holding out her arm, Frederick looking at her appraisingly before taking her arm, twisting it gently and pressing a kiss to the air above the back of her hand.

“Likewise, Lady Potter.”

He extended an arm to Helena, asking courteously: “Shall we?”

She rolled her eyes before entwining her arm with his, footsteps light as they took a seat at the Slytherin table, Blaise shifting to make room for the pair.

~

Helena sighed as she settled into the plush armchair in the common room, closing her eyes contentedly as she rested.

“Tired?”

She lazily cracked one eyelid open, looking at Fredrick’s smirking face and groaning: “I’m bloody exhausted.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well?”

His voice lost all traces of playfulness, staring at her worriedly.

“I’m fine Fredrick. Just…” she looked down in her hands, one hand absently tracing the callouses in the other. “Just nightmares.”

“Ah.”

He waved his wand, adding more layers to the privacy spell he put up, Helena not even batting an eye at the impressive display of magic.

“Are- are they about-”

“Yeah.” she leant backwards, head tilted back as she replied curtly. “They are.”

Her face was contorted in pains from the past, eyes glimmering with an unknown emotion, as she stared into nothing, lost in memories of blood and lost.

“Oh, Lena…” 

His words were unbearably sad, the young man internally cursing the Gods for causing such a wonderful person to go through something so horrible.

“I don’t need pity.”

His answering smile was watery as he pulled her closer to him, the pair snuggling into each other like they were children again.

“If you need anything, I’m here. Always.”

She smiled at him, her lips stretching so wide it was almost painful.

“I’ve missed you, Freddie.”

He laughed, pouting slightly at the nickname before dropping a kiss on her head.

“I’ve missed you too, Lena.”

~

Frederick let out a sigh for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past half hour.

The head of his green-eyed companion shot up, glaring at him irritably as she asked waspishly: “Must you sigh so much?”

He nodded, face dead serious when he replied: “Yes, I need some way to express annoyance before I burst.”

She stared at him for a few moments before returning to the document in her lap, quill moving furiously.

He groaned, conjuring a quaffle and throwing it up before snatching it from the air.

“C’mon Lena, we haven’t seen each other in months,” he whined. “You’re wasting our time doing paperwork.”

She didn’t even bother to lift her head, replying wryly: “Excuse me for doing the work that you brought me.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, their magics relishing in the close contact with each other.

“Fredrick?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?”

He sat up straighter at her sharp tone, accepting the transcript of last month’s Wizengamot, or as they called it in France, Magenmagot, meeting with slight hesitance.

One slender finger tapped the pages impatiently, hissing pointedly: “Explain.”

He swallowed, the events of the meeting coming back to him.

Choosing his words carefully, he spoke: “Lord Dupont was of the opinion that you should be stripped of your titles due to your young age and your failure to attend November’s meeting. There was a vote on whether or not his words would be acted out.”

“I see.”

He waited patiently as she sat and thought, knowing better than to interrupt her. Instead, he observed her, calm expression belying his nervousness.

“His heir?”

He started at the sudden question, the word slipping out before he could help himself.

“Pardon?”

“Really Fredrick,” she drawled, relaxing into her chair seeing as the situation wasn’t as bad as she had feared. “I never took you for a simple-minded imbecile.”

“His heir,” she repeated. “Who is his heir?”

Exhaling in relief when he saw her calm down, Frederick pondered on the question for a few moments before replying: “Alexandar Dupont. He’s in his seventh year at Beauxbatons, but like me, he chose to stay behind. He takes after his mother, he practices the Olde Ways.”

A contemplative smile touched her face.

“He’s a pagan then. Would he take our side?”

“He would. He detests his father.”

“Very well. I will mail you with further instructions, until then you are to initiate contact with Heir Dupont,” she ordered, expecting her words to be followed.

He dipped his head.

“As you wish.”

She crossed her legs, asking conversationally: “Is there anything else?”

He paused hesitantly before saying with some effort: “There is.”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering,” he began, voice steady but uncertain. “If you ever thought about converting Lily Potter.”

As expected, fury made itself known on her face, her magic wrenching free of its carefully constructed binds and flared brightly.

A few of the students outside their privacy barriers stared, able to sense it even with the layers between them.

Frederick merely stared back at her cooly, having braced himself for the immense pressure of her overwhelming magic.

Her magic hung in the air, thick and oppressive. The air was charged with some unseen force, her magic washing over him as he sat. The space around her was palpable as the natural magic of Hogwarts clashed against hers, her magic popping and crackling in defence.

With much effort, she pulled her magic back in, using her painstakingly acquired control to calm her flailing aura.

“No.”

The amount of venom she managed to inject into that single word shocked Fredrick, she knew she despised her birth parents, but he was unprepared for the sheer hatred in her tone.

“Lena….”

“No Fredrick!” 

“She was open to our traditions. I can’t imagine James Potter teaching our ways to her, but her ignorance can be easily fixed.”

“They abandoned me!” she cried, springing to her feet. “They dumped me in an orphanage, for what? For a twin brother more famous than I?”

“They made a mistake Lena. They want to fix it.”

She snarled at his words, pacing in the limited space as she seethed.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about that. It was their fault. Every beating, every cut, every death, all of it was their fault. I can forgive them for dumping me in an orphanage, but her death-”

Her voice cracked as a lone tear ran down her face.

“Her death is unforgivable.”

Fredrick’s eyes widened, he hadn’t known that. Helena would sometimes tell him tales about a girl she had met, a girl who had taken care of her, a girl who was strong in all the ways that mattered.

A girl who had died.

He pulled her onto the couch, bringing her closer and letting her sob unrestrainedly into his shoulder.

“I didn’t know she was from the or- there.”

He could never bring himself to say the word, not wanting to dwell on Helena’s time there.

She wiped her tears away and snuggled into his side.

“You do now.”

~

Midway through dinner, the students were yet again greeted with the sight of Helena LeFay and Fredrick Laurent entering the hall, arms looped with each other’s as they walked.

“It’s a shame you have to go. It was nice seeing you again,” said Helena, sounding put out.

Fredrick laughed, the velvety sound causing a few girls and boys to blush.

“You’ll see me again, Helena. We did agree to meet during Yule,” 

She shrugged, untangling her arm from his and stepping away.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.”

He grinned down at her, pulling her into a hug.

“I’ll miss you too.”

He broke the hug, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a jewellery box, an open smile on his face, as he held it out towards her.

She tentatively opened it, gasping at what was inside.

“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, voice filled with awe.

It was an elegant emerald necklace, consisting of a platinum chain which attached to two pieces of the shining jewel, a small square and a larger oval below it. The two gemstones were separated by a small diamond, each gem being framed with a border of smaller diamonds.

She gingerly picked it up, holding it up to the candlelight in admiration before handing it to Fredrick, moving her hair away from her neck in a silent invitation.

He beamed at her, taking the emerald necklace and clasping it around her neck.

“I did promise I would get this to you by November.”

She blinked for a few moments, gaping slightly as she remembered what he had said would be ready by that month.

“Thank you,” she said, words dripping with honesty. “Thank you.”

He smiled down at her, pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek before moving away, holding up a flashing gold bracelet as he Portkeyed away in a swirl of colours, smirking all the while.

She let out a startled laugh at his dramatics, making her way to the Slytherin table and ignoring the questions that were fired at her.

She absently ran a finger over the gem, a satisfied smirk flashing on her face, disappearing as soon as it appeared.

It was ready.

Her eyes trailed over the head table, surveying their faces.

Soon enough, their faces would be grim, marred by the dark cloud of war.

Soon enough, she would get her revenge.

She wrapped her hand around the emerald.

Soon.