Time Astral | Sirius Black

7||The Mission

August 31st, 1995

Alasia was sitting alone on her birthday.

She'd done that for the last decade and more anyhow. It didn't matter now.

She turned – she didn't even know how much. But looking at one wrinkle beside her eye, she could put a good guess to late thirties. Even though except that one thing, she looked perfectly young.

Doesn't matter though, nothing did. She was alone and she'd spent her entire break exercising and eating and searching and searching for anything about herself. Alasia Serpens – who was Alasia Serpens?

Surnames were forbidden to use in the assassin center. Only first names. It was to protect families – something she didn't have.

She sighed and rolled over in her bed when something knocked on her window. She had a throwing knife in hand before realising it was – an owl?

Alasia frowned and walked over, keeping the knife down as she opened the bolt to a white arctic owl outside, a letter in its beak.

She huffed out an amused laugh, so the wizard boy had finally sent her one?

Her experience in Little Whinging had been so rough that she was never planning to go there again. Alasia had vomited for an entire day before the thoughts of those creatures had started to leave her eyes. Yet, she'd sometimes dream of them. Along with the voices she'd heard.

She had presumed they were of the life she'd forgotten, but then would declare some things were too good to be true. And if the price of getting her memories back was meeting those dreadful beings again, she was happy as it was.

She wasn't angry at Harry though, surprisingly. Even though she disliked magic folk very much, he seemed like a suffering – normal boy. In need of serious help.

She wasn't a babysitter, or perhaps was with how she was befriending teens in small towns and calling them nephews. She grimaced, it made her look like such a pervert. But the boy had looked like he'd melt something with his eyes and then wail until his throat went sore.

She had only wanted to help, and he'd seemed as though he needed someone to listen. And then there was something so familial about him – the names, James and Lily Potter, almost as if she'd heard – shaking her head, Alasia took the letter from the owl's beak and raised a brow at it, waiting to close the window again.

It was then, she realised, that the owl won't leave without her giving him a response. Such strange ways of these wizards, she rolled her eyes.

Repeating it for the umpteenth time, what had she gotten herself into?

The letter was on goatskin parchment, hasty penmanship on it.

Dear Josephine,

You had asked me to write you a letter should I need to talk, so here I am.
I know that you have witnessed things which are impossible for a muggle to decipher and I am truly, very sorry about it.
I don't know if you are even alright after a meeting with Dementors, but I suspect you are. Considering how you'd helped Dudley home and hadn't seemed phased. I also suspect you already know of wizarding world, and I wouldn't bother explaining it to you.
I have certain questions regarding hows and whys, of course. But, I need your opinion on something right now.
I am furious, truly, angry about so many things. I don't think you know details of my world, but there is a wizard...a wizard who's like – in Hermione's words, a villain of a Marvel comic. I'm sure you'd get the reference, even though I myself don't. There are things I can't explain.
But what can one do when they've been kept in dark? I haven't been told about anything, by my friends, family, no one. No one bothered to keep me informed about the happenings with the wizard.
I find myself alone, I want to trap myself in a room and not walk out for days at the end. I'm bitter and angry, so angry that I find myself wanting to hit something most of the time. I don't know, I don't know what to do. I feel as though I cannot trust my closest friends, the people who've nourished me, cared for me. They all seem like they're hiding something from me.
Like I said before, no one takes underage people seriously. I truly hate this.
Have you forgiven me? For that incident? I am sure it must have scared you. Trust me, it doesn't happen very often and I had to go for a hearing for underage magic, the stag I'd produced? Remember?
I don't know why I find myself needing your consolation, but I think you are the only one who's not going to judge for some unknown reason. Perhaps, because you're a stranger. And you don't know much about me. I can get an honest answer.
How are you doing, Aunt?

Harry.

As soon as she'd written the reply, she carefully gave the letter back to the bird and shooed it out when it supposedly waited for food. As if she'd have something to feed the owl.

She gasped when the hilt of a dagger pressed against her throat all of the sudden.

"Hello LayLay."

Alasia grimaced and gently moved the dagger back. "What are you doing in my house?"

Rhen Holster shrugged as she turned around, dropping on her bed and crossing his ankles. "Your break's over."

"My break would be over tomorrow, asshole."

"Perhaps, I just couldn't stay away from you for another day."

Alasia narrowed her eyes and scowled. "Get out of my house."

"Get packed." He sighed dramatically. "We've got a mission. There are some people causing trouble to the museum in Spelthorne, our favourite one, do you remember?"

"No, I don't remember. Because we don't have a favourite one." She smiled sarcastically before removing a couple hoods and cloaks from her wardrobe, along with shirts and pants.

"Do you only ever wear blacks and greys?"

"I also wear reds."

"You should try yellows and cyans." He chuckled. "Lord, I can't even imagine you in light colouring."

"I can. And I look like a sunflower, which I absolutely detest. So, no thanks, but indigos and maroons and charcoals do for me."

Rhen cocked his head. "They are wizards."

Alasia spun around, "What?"

"The people causing trouble to the museum, they are wizards." He frowned. "I always hate tasks with the magic folk."

"What do wizards have to do with the museum?"

"Apparently, the museum has a relic which rightfully belongs to the wizards. It's probably magic related too. But it's a crystal, and a beautiful one at that so, obviously, the museum would hire the Prime to assassinate the folk."

"And we catch them, how?" Alasia asked, once she'd packed a duffle bag.

"They are going to be in the masquerade ball, in two days." Rhen explained, getting to his feet when Alasia was ready to leave. "We are going to get hot and seducing dresses, going to get a ticket and then," He grinned. "we'll kill them."

"How romantic." Alasia shook her head, locking the door.

"Don't I know?" Rhen hummed. "Come on, darling. We're already late."