White Heather for Protection

Family

Raucous cheering and catcalls broke out at the Gryffindor table. Heather's face was fixed into a moue of disgust. Gryffindor had just won this year's House Cup even though Slytherin was once again the Quidditch Champion.

However, that wasn't what Heather had a problem with. She couldn't care less about such trivialities. No, what she took exception to was what had allowed the lions to win.

Points. The damnable old coot had awarded House Points. To Hadrian, Ronald and Hermione. And for what? For impetuousness, taking unnecessary risks and breaking school regulations! For putting themselves in harm's way! It was as if the Headmaster actually approved of their behaviour!

Heather glowered fiercely at the jovial wizard. She thought it was a very effective look. She had Professor Snape as an example, after all. Unfortunately, burning glances weren't Incendios. If they were, the potion classrooms would erupt in Fiendfyre every day.

She would be having another talk with Hadrian later. Just in case Professor Dumbledore had given him any ideas.

Heather didn't understand the aged wizard. He didn't seem at all worried about her brother running off into danger. He even subtly encouraged such undertakings!

It had been frightening to find out that Voldemort wasn't entirely dead, but to hear that he was gunning for Hadrian had revived her nightmares with a vengeance. Only now she had more delightful memories to add to the cocktail.

But Headmaster Dumbledore, he had said that they needed a someone to ensure that Voldemort never came into power again. Heather knew who he wanted his champion to be. Not if she had anything to say about it. No way.

Anyway, that was part of why Heather and Hadrian found themselves packed off to another riveting summer at Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Heather would have to research blood wards and sacrificial magic.

~~~

It chafed dreadfully to be cooped up in the Cupboard Under the Stairs after being accustomed to the large expanse of Hogwarts grounds.

They barely fit into the space anymore. Even though they were both still petite (shut up, GredForge), they had grown a couple of inches, Hadrian even more. With the surplus of food and exercise, it was inevitable. They resigned themselves to an exceptionally cramped summer.

Lucky for them, Hagrid had agreed to take care of Anguis and Hedwig over the holidays. Now, if only they could take proper care of themselves at the Dursleys' non-existent mercy.

The horrible tension in the house had mounted since the last summer. Heather told herself to just bear with it. A few more weeks and they would be totally free. That, she had been assured of, at least.

So why did the feeling of foreboding dog her footsteps?

~~~

Hadrian mumbled incoherently when Heather got out of their cot. She shushed him gently and shuffled to the door.

It was slightly after midnight when she woke from a rare nightmare-free sleep. She shouldn't have drunk that last cup of chamomile. Groggily, she fumbled with the locks and made her way to the bathroom.

An odd clicking sound startled her as she was leaving the toilet. She paused, straining her ears. Nothing. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She really needed more sleep. Perhaps Dreamless Sleep potion? If she added more mint and less bergamot, maybe the addictive properties would –

Heather was slammed painfully into the wall. A bulky hand grasped her neck, choking her. She immediately starting clawing at the appendage, trying to gulp in precious oxygen.