After many heartbreaks and many losses, Aster Potter now has to go on a journey to the past to save her ancestors from the very man who is out to kill her. What better way to do it than to go back to the beginning, where their magic hadn't yet evolv...
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Fourteen years had slipped away since Ragnar's fateful conversation with Odin, a moment etched indelibly in his memory. The dreams that once plagued him had vanished after witnessing the devastation at Hogwarts and the sight of Aster's lifeless body. The image of Voldemort fleeing in cowardice was seared into his mind.
Each of Ragnar's sons had grown up enraptured by tales of Aster, and Ragnar's meeting with the Allfather. They revered her courage and the mystery of her fate, nurturing a fierce protectiveness towards her memory. Yet, as the years rolled on, their hope that she might travel to them began to wane. They dared not voice it, but doubts crept in—perhaps Odin had misjudged, and Tom Riddle had no intention of wiping out their lineage. Which was a good thing, but the sons of Ragnar wanted to meet their descendant.
It was a brilliant, green light that shattered their uncertainty, heralding news of deaths linked to its sinister glow. The moment the news reached them, Ragnar and his sons knew that Aster's coming was imminent. If she wasn't among them already, she was on her way.
Ragnar and his sons gathered in the great hall, a heavy silence hanging over them. The walls, once echoing with laughter and the clashing of weapons, now seemed to mourn with them. Bjorn, the eldest, broke the stillness. "You've heard the rumors, haven't you?" His voice was steady, but he sought confirmation, hoping he wasn't alone in his concerns.
"People dropping dead by a bright green light and only two words," Ivar interjected, rolling his eyes. "Of course we've heard them, Bjorn."
Ragnar's face softened with a sad smile. "Her family is dead, then."
"What do you mean?" Ubbe's brow furrowed with concern, his eyes searching his father's face.
"The last thing Odin told me about her life was that her husband, godson, and son would all die. I had hoped that if Tom Riddle didn't appear, Aster had managed to find and kill him before he could send his followers after her family," Ragnar explained, his voice tinged with regret.
"She's officially lost everyone," Hvitserk said, his frown deepening, the weight of the realisation settling over them all. The gravity of their descendants' suffering felt like a physical burden, pressing heavily on their chests.
"We'll have to keep an eye out," Sigurd pointed out, breaking the sombre silence. "The deaths are getting closer to Kattegat, and we have no clue when she'll be arriving."
The room fell silent again, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Ragnar's mind drifted back to the conversation with Odin, to the promise of Aster's arrival. He wondered how much more pain she could endure, how many more losses she could bear. The image of her lifeless body haunted him, a constant reminder of the tragedy she had faced. He could almost feel her sorrow, as if it were his own.
"I cannot imagine the strength it takes to survive such loss," Ragnar said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She's lost her husband, her godson, her son. And yet, she's still coming. She's still fighting." Ragnar knew only a fraction of the pain she felt having lost two children already, one to a plague and the other before he was born.
