Ti seed to pass calmly inside Gaunt Manor.
For Aurelian, those days passed quietly; for Hestia and Flora, however, they were the perfect mix of romantic vacations, intense magical training, and a fierce and silent competition for the most important place in Aurelian's heart.
The Carrow twins had settled into the mansion as if they had always lived there.
Stinky was delighted with the presence of the two young won who treated Aurelian with such love and affection. He prepared special als for them, iced tea for hot afternoons, and small desserts whenever they asked.
Within a few days, the elf had beco unable to hide his newfound favoritism toward the girls.
The days were filled with laughter, duels, and a little jealousy. The garden had beco the trio's favorite training ground. Aurelian ditated and practiced his magical control, studied alchemy, and experinted with combinations of spells and Parseltongue, while Hestia and Flora usually watched him with the sa mixture of love and competitiveness that always characterized them.
"My explosion was more accurate!" Flora would say proudly.
"No, mine had better stability," Hestia would reply, crossing her arms.
Aurelian would sigh every ti they got into that tone, but he would still smile; it was impossible for him not to.
Sotis, the twins would rush forward to take him by the arms, arguing over who would sit on his left and who on his right. Other tis, they would end up arguing over who had better understood a certain alchemical exercise in the grimoire, only to end up sitting next to him, receiving instructions directly from him.
The nights were even more special.
After dinner, with Stinky always proud to serve them all kinds of dishes, the three of them would lie on the roof of the mansion, looking at the stars and talking about all kinds of things, about Hogwarts, about the future, and about what they wanted to build together.
Hestia was always the most direct; she liked to rest her head on Aurelian's thigh. Flora was more... shy but just as intense, taking his hand and intertwining her fingers with his whenever she could.
That sumr was becoming one of the most... peaceful and beautiful she had ever had, full of small details, but all very aningful. A sumr that marked the beginning of sothing deeper between the three of them.
That new routine soon beca familiar. Mornings began with birdsong and light streaming through the windows. Hestia and Flora used to get up early, just to compete over who could make the most beautiful magical breakfast for Aurelian. Although Stinky always ended up helping the two of them in secret, according to Stinky, his skills were at best a 2/10.
The afternoons were spent training, exploring the mansion, or simply resting under the shade of the trees while they talked about the new challenges they would have to face. Although the mansion was large, the twins seed to fill every corner with their boundless energy.
When the girls were focused on their things, Aurelian watched them silently and understood perfectly that they were not only in love with him. Being with him made them happy. Happy to share and show themselves to him without any masks, without the pressures of Hogwarts or their family, and without having to pretend to be sothing they weren't. In him, they found soone with whom they could be themselves, and he loved them for who they were.
And Aurelian would make sure their lives stayed that way.
The last rays of the sun tinged the shop windows of Diagon Alley with orange, and the murmur of the wizards and witches shopping or simply enjoying what the place had to offer diminished with the arrival of night.
Aurelian walked slowly, his hands in his pockets, letting himself be carried along by the tide of people without really paying attention to anything in particular. He had spent a few wonderful days with Hestia and Flora at Gaunt Manor, and it was hard not to feel relaxed.
For now, just for a few hours, he wanted so fresh air. He wanted to simply observe the world as a re spectator, not as Lord Gaunt, nor as the disciple of the Flals, just another wizard like any other, enjoying a quiet stroll.
Just Aurelian.
That tranquility was broken when sothing crunched under his foot. Curious, he stopped to inspect what was on the ground, looking down at the cobblestones. Under his foot he found a badly folded and sowhat dirty sign, perhaps fallen from a bulletin board, clearly trampled on by soone else before him.
Aurelian picked it up and inspected its contents. The paper was printed in dark ink with a simple design.
**"ETING ABOUT A NEW INITIATIVE
Only for those interested in a new vision of the magical future.
Tonight – Knockturn Alley – Obsidian Claw Bar
Participation is strictly confidential."**
Aurelian frowned. There was no signature from the organizer on the ticket. Nor was there the seal of any family, or the insignia of any known organization or group.
The ssage radiated pure ambiguity, but also sothing deeper... sothing his instincts recognized as dangerous.
"Knockturn..." he muttered.
It was not surprising that the shadowy movents of Great Britain were erging in that area, but the background to that 'initiative' caught his attention. Also, "a new vision of the magical future." It was a carefully chosen phrase, too elegant for re criminals.
And if he had learned anything from his father, from Flal, from Dumbledore, and from this world... it was that nothing happened by chance, everything had a reason.
He ran his fingers over the edge of the poster.
Sothing was stirring in the shadows of the United Kingdom, and although he would never say it out loud, his intuition scread that all of this was sohow connected to the rebirth of the Alliance and the sooner rather than later release of Grindelwald.
"Like a new vision of the magical future, huh?" he repeated thoughtfully.
He tucked the poster inside his robe and continued walking with apparent normality. But his gaze had beco cold, sharp, more acute. The sun was setting, and Knockturn Alley awaited him.
Night had finally fallen on Knockturn Alley, where everyone walked around hiding their faces, intentions, and possible actions, with danger waiting around every corner.
Aurelian walked silently, his clothes blending into the gloom as he observed every detail: the half-open doors, the boarded-up windows, and the narrow alleys where the air seed unwilling to move.
The poster he had found on the floor of Diagon Alley—"New Initiative eting, Tonight, at the Obsidian Claw"—still weighed heavily in his pocket, as if reminding him that he was about to enter a realm where politics and secrecy rged into one.
The na of the place did not appear in any official records. But in Knockturn, nothing was really official or legal... that was the essence of the place.
After turning the corner, he found a door with no sign, barely lit by a green torch. From inside ca the sound of many voices whispering.
Aurelian placed his hand on the wooden door. The vibes he got from this place were extrely negative. The magic of the entrance sensed his magic and verified his identity as a magical being before opening on its own, allowing him to pass.
The interior of The Obsidian Claw was in stark contrast to its exterior façade: circular tables lit by a few black candles, smoke hanging in the air, and walls covered with faint runes that threatened to disappear.
Hooded magicians occupied almost all the seats. So turned to watch him enter, studying him with their eyes, while others simply sensed his presence and went back to what they were doing.
Aurelian advanced without showing emotion, his magical aura steady, which helped ward off the most insistent. He took a seat at a table in the darkest area of the cave, allowing him to hear so nearby conversations.
A tall man dressed in a dark red robe tapped lightly on the central table to call for silence.
"Welco, brothers and sisters," he said in a raspy voice. "We are gathered here today to discuss why the magical world is on the brink of change. A change that the Ministry refuses to accept."
A murmur of approval rippled through the room.
"The Alliance is awakening... resurging," continued another voice, that of a woman whose face was covered by a tal mask. "They hid the truth from us for decades. They told us that Dumbledore defeated Gellert Grindelwald. But it was all just a vile lie... a political convenience to keep us trained."
Aurelian narrowed his eyes. It ca as no surprise to him, but hearing strangers talk about it so openly was... revealing. It seems Dumbledore has so trouble keeping his information secret.
The woman continued, holding up an ancient-looking parchnt.
"We have information that Grindelwald never died. He was never destroyed. He was only contained... temporarily. Now, according to our contacts in Eastern Europe, he is gathering forces. Forces that exceed those he had in his first uprising."
A wizard near Aurelian added.
"Acquaintances in Germany and Italy say that forr acolytes are reorganizing. That the Mark that characterized them is reappearing from the shadows."
Another wizard added.
"If Grindelwald returns... the world will change. Muggles, the Wizengamot... everyone will be swept away by a new wave... not even He Who Must Not Be Nad would be spared," he said the last part in a low voice with so fear.
Aurelian rested his elbow on the table, observing every gesture of everyone present. Most were failed wizards or those who had lost their wealth, frustrated young people or old believers in the discourse of magical supremacy.
But even so, it all seed strange to him. His instincts scread that this "initiative" was not spontaneous. Soone was moving them.
The man in the red robe raised his voice again.
"We must choose a path, my brothers. Unite... or be destroyed when the Alliance rises again."
The entire room nodded in agreent. Many began to raise their wands in a sign of agreent and loyalty.
Aurelian took a deep breath before leaving. He hadn't co to join, he had co to listen and understand the movent.
And what he was understanding was quite clear.
Grindelwald was moving his pieces, but the good thing was that they were nothing more than pawns.
Before leaving, Aurelian felt a chill run through the room. It wasn't a spell. Nor was it a physical presence.
It was an intention. A shadow. Sothing or soone was watching him from a place that even his senses couldn't locate.
"So... the pieces are already beginning to move," he whispered to himself when he was finally able to leave.
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