The Catalyst | JSP FF

P | July 1st, 2021

✨ Prologue ✨

July 1st, 2021

There were various shouts and echoes of insults emitting from the once presumed empty and lone house on the deserted street of Grimmauld Place.

The muggles that lived around the house had believed nobody lived at number twelve, and that any sound that came from the property was unusual.

These sounds stirred rumours of the house being haunted but the truth was that the residents were unlike their neighbours, exhibiting extraordinary abilities that surpassed them.

"I don't think you've thought this through, Cleo. What are you going to do when you get to wherever you're going?"

The shaggy haired boy turned and asked the girl, with his eyes wide and pleading.

"It's Italy, you pompous dick. They have Aurors there too, silly," she said, rolling her eyes at James Potter's ridiculous facial expressions and accusations that came with them.

She could still find work, no matter the country, she was sure of it.

The magical world there was thriving just as it was in Britain.

"But they aren't as great as ours," he quipped back rather quickly.

"Now you're just being a stick in the mud."

"Who? Me?" He scoffed, "Never."

"Just listen to me for two seconds! We are about to graduate and you're thinking of faraway foreign countries?"

The boy continued, desperate for her to see where he was coming from.

"No, I'm just being realistic because after graduation; I am leaving, Potter."

James Sirius Potter liked it better when Cleodora called him by his given name but she was just as stubborn as he was.

Whenever they fought, last names emerged.

"We shouldn't even be in here, let's go."

Cleo said, feeling nerves erupt in the pit of her stomach.

Harry Potter's office made her feel partly safe, and partly terrified that things were about to go wrong with his son in the vicinity.

"This is why we are here! Look!"

James said as he obnoxiously pointed to a small, mini-show of moving photos on the far wall of his father's office. He'd needed a lot of magic for this display but he was confident it would work.

Confident he could show her what was inside of his heart - what had always been there for only her.

Cleo, however, thought it was all a waste of time.

Her traditionalist family values made it much too easy to pick between a summer fling and the health of her younger brother, Tomos.

He'd been battling leukemia since he was twelve years old, stuck in a Muggle hospital in London to waste away the remainder of his days. Just shy of five years after their mother died of cancer as well, proving it to be a genetic disease that ran in their family.