Orphan, Aubrey Thomas was founded by Voldemort himself, before his powers were taken away from infant Harry Potter. Raised by Death Eaters, Aubrey is put into a mission to gain Harry Potter's trust to lend him over to the Dark Lord. Aubrey's hatred...
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AUBREY WATCHED FROM the shell cottage kitchen window, as Harry buried Dobby-the free house elf. She made her way outside, kneeling down beside the raven-haired boy, placing a hand on his leg. Aubrey gave his leg a light squeeze, letting him know she was there for him.
Harry looked up at her, tears glistening in his eyes. He placed a hand over hers, his lips turning up into a coarse smile.
"I've always liked Dobby," Aubrey stated, looking out into the ocean. Harry's eyes fixed upon her. Her brunette hair lightly whipped in the wind. "I was the only one who treated him with respect. He was so kind to me, and always was so appreciative."
"That was Dobby. He always wanted to help," Harry chuckled softly, reminiscing the memories he had with the unique house elf.
"I'm sorry Harry. I know how much he meant to you," Aubrey apologized sincerely, sweetly rubbing her thumb over the palm of his hand.
"It's war. You can't save everyone in a war," Harry implied, holding onto the witch's hand.
"But you can try. And you did. That's all that matters," she said, laying her head against his shoulder.
The two lovebirds sat cuddled up together, watching the waves crash onto the shore of the sea. It was only a matter of time before the world would crumble around them, but they only needed each other. They're love was infinite; raising in the ashes of destruction. The evil seemed to consume all that was good, but the good was fighting with all they had.
Harry decided he wanted to talk to Griphook about what he knew about the sword of Gryffindor being in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. Aubrey, surprisingly, had no knowledge of this when she was asked. Which the brunette wondered why she wasn't informed during her time at Malfoy Manor.
The quartet gathered together in the bedroom, with Griphook sitting peacefully in a rocking chair in the corner of the room.
"How did you come by this sword?" Griphook questioned.
"It's complicated," Harry vaguely stated. "Why did Bellatrix Lestrange think it should be in her vault at Gringotts?"
"It's complicated," Griphook mocked cunningly.
"We didn't steal the sword, Griphook. If that's what you mean," Aubrey pipped in, her arms crossed over her chest. "It presented itself to us in a moment of need."
Griphook nodded slowly, his glaze switching from Aubrey to Harry. "There is a sword in Madame Lestrange's vault identical to this one, but it is a fake." The goblin trailed his finger down the sword, that lay in his lap, observing it intently.
"It was placed there this past summer..."
Harry frowned. "And she never suspected it was a fake?"
