Invisible String

Chapter 04

LAWRENCE
The days passed by in the blink of an eye. Weeks turned into months, yet nothing changed. I found myself spending more time in the library than ever before, scouring for even the tiniest bit of information. But alas, my efforts yielded nothing. Slowly, I stretched my hands, trying to alleviate the cramping sensation from writing too fast and too much. They were full of tiny cuts—paper cuts—a consequence of poring over every book in the library, or at least the most important ones. Amantha and I drifted apart slightly as I spent more time with the Malfoy boy. Despite his incessant chatter and often annoying presence, I realized I couldn't afford to be friendless forever. Meanwhile, Amantha thrived in her social circles, unlike me; she seemed to be friends with nearly everyone. While I was genuinely happy for her, the nights were lonelier without my sister by my side. Searching for any trace of our parents after school was exhausting, but there was one silver lining—I absorbed the contents of every book I read, gaining valuable information, including details about the forbidden curse. Avada Kedavra—those were the words for the green light, the mark of an unforgivable curse. Committing murder earned a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Not exactly reassuring. Yet, the mystery remained: were our parents victims of such a fate, or did they meet a different end? I never voiced my doubts to Ara; it would only add to her pain. "Laurie! Are you even listening to me? Laurie!" Ara's voice snapped me back to reality. "There you are! I thought I was talking to a ghost—no, they can reply—so, did you hear the rumors?" She fidgeted nervously, a habit I had come to recognize. It felt as though we were strangers, despite being twins. Her hair had grown, usually tied in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. She had grown taller, too, but I still had the height advantage. I hadn't realized how much I relied on my twin, my other half, until we were separated. Save for the troll incident, nothing significant had occurred, yet the distance between us felt palpable. "No, I didn't. What happened?" I asked, stuffing my belongings into my bag—a Christmas present from Draco, given out of pity, he claimed. "Basically, the whole school knows about it," Ara replied, casting me a reproachful glance, as if my ignorance were to blame. "Well, Harry faced you-know-who. Here in Hogwarts." Her words piqued my interest. How had he infiltrated the school? As if reading my thoughts, Ara continued, "He was in Professor Quirrell's head, well, the back of it, under the turban. In the end, Harry somehow defeated him. He's in the infirmary wing now. I wanted to visit him. Do you want to come with me? We can talk on our way there." Ara spoke rapidly, her words tumbling over each other. "Uhm, sure." I grabbed my bag and followed her out of the library in silence, pondering her words. If Harry had faced Voldemort and survived, it meant he was still alive, contrary to popular belief. But how? He must have used the killing curse in his attempt to murder the baby, resulting in his own near-death experience. Yet, here he was, alive and presumably well. It seemed implausible that both had survived.  "I had nightmares again," Ara confessed, her gaze fixed ahead. "Not the usual ones with screams, but a new one. It was around the time when Harry—" Her voice faltered, and I squeezed her hand reassuringly. I knew she and the boy shared a bond as fellow orphans. "You don't have to talk about it," I offered, but she shook her head. "You were there, but grown up. It wasn't a normal dream, Laurie. It felt so real. You—you were the one who screamed, not the woman. And there was another person, it didn't even look human. They had their wand pointed at you." A tear escaped her pale cheek. "It's alright, Ara. Just a dream," I murmured, though her words unsettled me. I never had such dreams, but Ara's words still frightened me. I hugged my sister tight, never wanting to let her go. „I missed you, Laurie." She whispered through her hair. „I missed you too." And so we stood there in the hallway, hugging each other. I can smell her significant scent, cherry with a touch of wood. Probably because she spent a lot of time in front of the fireplace. Suddenly she let go and rubbed her fingers through my hair. She always used to do that to annoy me, but actually, I liked it. „Anyways. I guess the hospital wing is over there." And with that she took my hand and we walked through the surprisingly empty hallways. We never had to go to the hospital wing- thankfully. When we arrived the old door that probably leads us into it, Ara already ran to one particular bed. „Harry! How are you? I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier." The Potter boy looked like he's going to suffocate. „Ara, he can't breathe." I finally reached her and her friend. „Thanks. Uhm, does it sound rude when I ask what you want here?" He scratched is neck nervously. I get it, I'm unwelcome. „I just thought that you two can at least befriend a little bit, you know, Harry. He's my brother though." We both glanced at the only girl in this room who know stands there quite uncomfortable. „Oh, Amy, it's alright." Amy? So she accepted a new nickname, which she rarely did, only I called her not Amantha before. I guess times change. „And I'm fine." The black haired boy grinned, some faint scars painted his face. Only now I realised the other person in this room- Professor Dumbledore stood slightly afar from us. My sister noticed my stare and followed it. „Oh, hello, Professor. Did we interrupted you two? We can go, we just wanted to check on Harry." I'm glad that Ara took the talking part since I'm standing there freezed. „Oh, Harry and I are finished, don't worry, Miss Williams. I'm quite surprised that you're here, Mr. Williams." He noted and if it's even possible I'm feeling more uneasy in my skin. It feels like getting scanned under his view,I shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. „Uhm, It was- it was." What's happening? I never stutter. „There's no problem, I was just wondering, excuse me." I don't get what he's saying. „Well, I should leave now. Get better, Potter, don't scare my sister like this ever again." I took my bag and waved goodbye to Ara and ran out of the wing. Well, exactly it wasn't even running, I hate sweating and anything like that. I didn't care what the three are thinking of me now- Ara wouldn't judge me, I know that. I stopped when I was outside and leaned against the cold stony wall whilst ruffling my hands through my hair. Why am I like this? Why can't I react normally like a normal person? Why do I have to leave, that's impolite. Thankfully,  the school year ends in a few days. Next year I'll be normal, just a normal Slytherin- boy going to school. Except I'm not. I'm an orphan with a twin sister in the enemy- house. And there are our parents; we definitely need to find out who they were and if we have any family left. Nothing is normal here, I'm a wizard- this is everything but normal. I need to stop overthinking it, we're just a bunch of kids, nothing is wrong, everything is going to be fine. Next year is going to be my school year, I promised to myself.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

AMANTHA
As Laurie stormed out of the infirmary, his expression twisted in horror, an uneasy silence settled over us. It was unusual to see him so shaken; normally, he maintained a facade of composure, hiding his insecurities. I felt a lump form in my throat as I tried to defend him. "He's probably just stressed out," I offered weakly, unwilling to paint him in a negative light. "It's alright, Miss Williams. Perhaps you could give your brother this back," the old man said, handing me a piece of parchment filled with my brother's beautiful handwriting. As I read its contents, panic set in. No, no, no. Unforgivable curses. He had mentioned wanting to research this topic further. Why couldn't he lose another piece of parchment? "Quite the complicated topic for a first year," Dumbledore added, noticing my concerned expression as I read through the notes. "He spent a lot of time in the library." Once again, I found myself defending him. The headmaster looked at me with concern, trying to gauge my feelings. I understood; I often do the same. Under the scrutiny of the headmaster, I felt small, like an ant. "You're really fascinating. I've never seen such differences in the houses within a family like you and your twin brother," he noted. But his observation only made things worse. I just shrugged, unsure whether to mention that our parents were in different houses as well. Were there similar disagreements between Slytherin and Gryffindor in their time? "Ah, anyway, I think I should leave. It's getting late. Good evening, Harry. Miss Bl—Miss Williams," he said, turning to leave after giving me an unreadable look. I noticed something—he nearly called me by another name. I took a seat next to Harry. He glanced after Dumbledore, and the door slammed shut loudly. "Did you hear that? Who's Miss Bl...? You don't have an undercover name, do you?" he asked, picking up on it too. But I didn't want Harry to worry about my suspicions. "No, I didn't, Harry. I think it's been a bit overwhelming the past few days," I replied, feeling guilty for lying to my best friend. To emphasize, I gave him a worried look and placed my hand on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice my terrible lying skills. "Maybe you're right. Sorry," he mumbled. I just smiled, sorting through my questions in my head. "So, do you feel comfortable telling me what happened?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from my own worries. "Why was he— you know who— even in the castle?" I continued without waiting. Harry's expression darkened as he recounted the events involving Voldemort and the Philosopher's Stone. I leaned in, listening intently, but his words only left me with more questions than answers. Next time, I should try to approach with more empathy. "Uhm... He wanted the Philosopher's Stone to come back to life," Harry stuttered, scratching his scar. "To come back to life? So he was dead? Or what?" Does this mean there's a way to live after death? "Well, Dumbledore said that on the night my parents died, my mother's love protected me, and the curse rebounded on Voldemort—" I flinched at the name, but Harry didn't seem to notice and continued, "Somehow he was still alive in some form. Then he attached himself to Professor Quirrell and used him to try to regain power. He drank the unicorn blood, as I told you when we had detention with Hagrid. That gave him strength. The Philosopher's Stone was supposed to keep him from dying. It belonged to Nicolas Flamel, but it's destroyed now." This didn't really answer my questions; it only raised more. So there is a way to live forever—or there was, since it's destroyed now. Great. "But how did you survive against him?" I asked, my mind racing with questions. Harry just shrugged. "Like before, with that old kind of magic my mother used to protect me." This wasn't very helpful, as Harry doesn't know much about this magic. Dumbledore probably does, but I can't just ask him. It seems like a trip to the library next school year might be in order. Anyway, our mother is most likely dead, so it won't apply to us. Why does everything related to our parents have to be so frustrating? Laurie and I had hoped to learn more about them here, maybe find someone who knew someone with the name Williams, but we've come up empty. It's as if our parents never existed. Aside from that, there's Carina Black. Her name only appears in past Quidditch teams. Maybe we should close this case and just focus on school. Yeah, that sounds like a plan for next year. School, friends, Laurie. Nothing more. Harry and I talked about everything except what happened. I realized it's nice to have a friend who's just like you.

Author's Note:
I'm back. I really hate hate hate this chapter. Initially, I intended to cover their Christmas, birthdays, exams, and more. To be honest, I became quite bored while writing it, so I skipped ahead. Nevertheless, the next year will be more detailed and eventful.
Lee