Shadow of Legacy

Hope?

I glided down the stairs, my footsteps light but deliberate. At the bottom, a man stood waiting—disheveled, his glasses cracked down the middle and a battered notebook clutched in his trembling hands. He shifted nervously,looking as though he might flee at any moment. I could practically feel his unease, as if my family's reputation had already set his nerves on edge.
I didn't recognize him. He must have been a new reporter for the Daily Prophet. And though it was rare for anyone to make it past the family gatekeepers without some hidden agenda, there was something about him that made me think—just for a second—that maybe he wasn't entirely part of the game. Perhaps there was more to him than just another reporter with a headline to write.

"Don't forget, smile. Keep it simple," I reminded myself quietly as I walked towards him.

"Hello," I said, my voice steady, though the smile I plastered on felt oddly foreign. "I'm Alvira Blackwell. Nice to meet you."

The man blinked, as if he'd been lost in thought, then shook my hand, his grip a little too firm. He cleared his throat nervously. "Miss Blackwell, I'm  Mr. Jennings. I'm here to cover your brother's success at Hogwarts. Quite the achievement, isn't it? You must be very proud of him."

His words struck me like a well-aimed blow, though I didn't let it show. Of course I loved Ares. Of course I was proud of him. But every time someone mentioned his successes, his triumphs, it felt like a reminder of everything I would never be. I loved him, but he was everything my family wanted. Everything they expected. And I was... something  else.

"Yes, I am proud," I said, keeping my voice light, my smile steady, though it faltered just a little. "He worked very hard for it."

Just then, Ares bounded into the room, his ever-present energy spilling out in a rush as he pulled me into a hug. "Alvira! I'm glad to catch you before I go!"

Jennings snapped into action, his camera already raised as he captured the moment. "Perfect," he muttered to himself. "'Hogwarts Star: Family Support Shines.' That'll be the headline."

I barely heard him, lost in the feeling of Ares's arms around me. He was the only one who truly understood the weight of this house, the weight of our family's expectations. For a moment, I wished we could leave all of it behind—leave them behind. But Ares was going to Hogwarts, to a world I could never reach. And that felt like the cruelest reminder of all.
The rest of the day unfolded in a blur—well-rehearsed, like a play we had all memorized. The perfect smiles. The polite conversation. The small talk that never quite reached the heart. But the day passed without incident, and that was enough. A quiet day meant I wouldn't have to face the consequences of my mistakes. The façade remained intact.

It wasn't until late that evening, when the house had finally sunk into silence, that I heard the soft knock on my door.

"Alvira, it's me. Open up."

I dragged myself from my bed, the weight of the day still pressing on me. Ares was standing there, his familiar grin on his face, a mixture of warmth and mischief in his eyes.

"Ares, what are you doing here?" I sighed, though the sound was soft. "It's late."

"I couldn't leave without talking to you," he said, stepping into my room without waiting for me to say anything.

"You don't think we've talked enough today?" I asked, my voice tired, but trying to tease him as usual.

He just smiled—a knowing smile that made me feel like he saw through every layer of pretense.
"You know exactly what I mean," he said, sitting down on the floor, pulling me gently to join him. "Just one last talk before I go."
We sat there, the fire crackling in the corner, casting shadows that danced across the room like old ghosts.

"I don't want you to stay here," Ares said quietly, his voice serious now. "You know that, don't you?"

I didn't answer immediately. We had talked about this before, so many times. The words always felt like they were in the air between us, unspoken but understood. It was easier to stay silent, easier to pretend that one day, things might be different, even though I knew deep down that they never would be.

"I have a plan," he continued, leaning in slightly, his voice low. "I can get you out of here. I swear it."

I shook my head, the familiar feeling of doubt creeping in. "Don't raise my hopes, Ares. Not this time."

His eyes met mine, earnest and unwavering. "This time it's different. I can't tell you everything yet, but I promise—there's a way out. I can make it happen."

I crossed my arms tightly, the skepticism bubbling to the surface. "We've tried before. How many times? Do you even remember? Ten? Fifteen? Every time, we end up back here."

"I know," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for all the times I let you down. But this time... you have to trust me."

The frustration in me rose, sharp and bitter. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Ares stood up, his posture tense, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty in his movements. "I'll find a way. You have to believe me. Just hold on a little longer."

He turned to leave, but then paused, his gaze locking with mine. "I'll be back. You'll see. This time, it will work."
And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the dim light, the door clicking shut behind him. My heart was racing, torn between a flicker of hope and a gnawing feeling of despair. Maybe he was right. Maybe this time would be different.

I stood there for a long moment, my mind racing, feeling the weight of the house press down on me once more. Outside the window, the night sky was clear, the stars twinkling like distant promises I had long stopped believing in. Yet, for just a second, I allowed myself to think that maybe—just maybe—there was still hope. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe that maybe, it was worth holding onto this time.