EAT YOUR YOUNG ━ HOTD & HP

𝐎𝐍𝐄 ─ 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘

[ one, doorstop delivery ]

Aemma Potter was absolutely and utterly drained.

A naive and younger version of her had once thought that with the end of a war that had held her hostage ever since she was born, she would finally be able to find peace and breathe again, that all the scars she'd accumulated over the years would finally stop hurting, and that people would stop looking at her like their Godric effin' saviour and see her for who she really was; just a normal eighteen-year-old.

She should have known better than to have such high expectations.

All Aemma had once imagined disappeared on that fateful May morning ( now a distant and childish dream ), leaving behind a girl haunted by the ghosts of Tom Riddle, of all the people who'd died, and the brutal war that had inflicted so much pain on everyone she knew.

To make matters worse, newspapers started printing articles upon articles about her and those closest to her, uncaring about the possible effects they could have had on them as long as they kept on profiting. It was Fourth Year all over again; privacy nonexistent, judgement dialled to eleven, expectations that Aemma wanted to shove up their arses.

The quartet had barely gotten into a manageable headspace thanks to their mind healers by the time Death had come to them with the offer to meet the Targaryen-Velaryon family. They were all aware of the possible repercussions when they eventually accepted, yet each did so for a different reason.

Death, touched by their selflessness and ever unpredictable, had vowed that the process would be just as healing for them as it would have been for the Westerosi families.

The group had taken the Being's words with a pinch of salt. They weren't the same naive children they'd been at eleven and twelve, far too innocent to question or notice how targeted each obstacle guarding the Philosopher's Stone seemed to be. No, life had turned them into soldiers who'd learnt the hard way not to trust those in power unquestioningly, and soon, people would understand why.

[It is nighttime in Surrey, we see an owl on the street sign "PRIVET DRIVE" and the camera pans to the street with very identical looking brown bricked houses. The owl flies away and an elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery white beard named Albus Dumbledore walks out of a forest near the street, past a tabby cat standing next to what looks like a shed. He takes out his deluminator and activates it. Dumbledore zaps all the light out of the lampposts. He puts away the device and a cat meows. Dumbledore looks down at the cat.]

Several people gasped at what they'd just witnessed, their reactions ranging from shock and awe to fear and condemnation.

"Was that ━" Still reeling from what she'd seen, Rhaena hesitated for a second before gathering her bearings with a slight shake of her head. "Was that magic?" She asked hopefully.