I dropped in agony next to my husband’s lifeless body. “James…” I whispered. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be dead. Glasses nowhere in sight, his hair was ruffled in every direction; all emotion drained from his face. I tore my eyes away from the heartbreaking scene, the pain was too much to bear. “James…” I tried to speak, but could not form a sentence, my mind was only set on the one man to whom I gave everything; my soul, my body, my love.
I broke down. Tears were falling like waterfalls. I placed my head in my hands and began to shake uncontrollably, and then it hit me-- Harry. My sweet baby Harry. The grief I felt a moment ago for my lost husband, was replaced with guilt. How self-centered can one person be, to only think of the one in front of them. For mere moments ago, my heart only went to James, who was, quite obviously, already dead. I was ashamed. I should be strong for my family. After all I am a Gryffindor.
I wiped my tears away with a stroke of my hand and stood up. I noticed there was a huge hole in the living room ceiling, just below the master bedroom. I could tell because half of our bed was slanted in the living room, such that I had to lower my head to proceed through.
Mounting the stairs, I nearly fell due to the missing of a board. Most of the steps were like that actually, but I managed to grope my way through the darkness, only stumbling slightly, since the first occurrence.
Once I reached the top of the stairs, my eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and what I saw shocked me. The wall that joined Harry’s room and our room was completely destroyed. The remains were thrown carelessly about our room and through the dust, I caught a glimpse of Harry’s crib lying on its side. I let out another sob. God, I could never survive without my family. I dabbed my eyes with my nightshirt, once I realized new tears were beginning to form. I flattened myself against the wall so I wouldn’t fall victim to the hole, as did my bed.
When I finally reached the light blue walls of Harry’s room, I was afraid to move any closer. If I moved closer, I might see Harry dead, and if I saw Harry dead, that would make this nightmare real. Still, I crept closer, and yet again, new tears formed in my eyes.
There was no movement and no sound and I feared the worst. Harry’s blanket was on the floor, resting on top of a pillow, so it seemed. It was always my favorite; it matched his eyes. My eyes. Our eyes. I bent over to pick it up, and as I did, a small, delicate hand fell out. I was so startled. My heart leapt and I dropped the blanket , which recovered the hand. Slowly, I reached out again and lifted the blanket, which was not resting on a pillow at all, but my baby… who was no longer breathing.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t want to. At first, I thought of killing myself, but then realized how cowardly that would be. I am not a coward. I could obliviate myself; that would be less painful, and I could start a new beginning. But then that would be selfish. I mean, both my husband and only son died, why should I be any different? I shrugged the thought away. So what if I was a coward? Maybe the sorting hat was right, take away my blood status, I could have succeeded in Slytherin.
I pointed my wand to my head, and with all the strength I could, shouted “Obliviate!”
~~~ SIX MONTHS LATER~~~
“Aurelia!, Aurelia!’ cried Hannah Jones, hurrying through the busy street. “You forgot your sweater, dear.” The older woman smiled warmly as she handed me a light green cardigan.
“Thank-you, Hannah, you’re a life saver!” I smiled back. Liam and Hannah Jones had been like parents to me for about five months since my hospital release. Mrs. Jones was the head nurse when I arrived half a year ago. “My injuries are mysterious” they told me. The doctors told me I was suffering from a severe case of amnesia, but there was no proof of any blow to the head. I cannot remember anything from my first twenty-one years of life, and am absolutely grateful for the Jones’ for taking me in.
Oh and you must be wondering why, with a last name of Jones, is my first name Aurelia? Well, first off, that isn’t my real name. However, the doctors thought that if I had a name, then I would have a sense of identity. Well they gave me the name Mary. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate the name Mary, but in my five months at the hospital, I have met six Mary’s. Besides, with my dark red hair and brilliant green eyes, I would like something a bit more… exotic. That’s when I overheard Hannah telling a young girl in the ward opposite of me, the story of a princess Aurelia who could fly. I liked the name and end of story.
“Take care of yourself hun, and remember…” Hannah put her hands up on either side of my cheeks. “Keep your legs closed.” She winked. I was amazed at just how blunt she was, especially for someone her age. Then again, she had delivered enough newborns, to know how crabby expectant mothers can be.
“Hannah, do you really think I would do anything, it’s just a date. God, I don’t even know how to date!” I laughed. “Trust me, Lucius is very nice.”
“I don’t know about this, what kind of name is Lucius anyway?” I raised my eyebrow at her look of mock disapproval. “Now get going, first impressions are everything, and tardiness is not too good.” Hannah patted my back and I left not even noticing the two oddly dressed women following behind me.
AN: I really hope you liked it!! This is an AU story so there will be several different plot lines and this is just a prologue so chapters will get longer. Please review; the more feedback I get, the quicker updates should come. Thanks :)
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