Aster

I didn't want to get up today. Is it possible to sleep an entire day? I must wake up though and be good.

"Aster… Aster honey, it's time to wake up!" Mum was nice, knocking on my door and calling through the wood gently, but Mum always woke me up extra early on 'Healer Hell' days. It always made me cranky and tired the entire time on top of everything else bad about Healer Hell. It made it harder to be good.

After the third time Mum called through the door, I knew I needed to start making sounds like I was actually getting up or else—

"FAWNSTER!" Dad yelled as he burst through the door. Squinting through my sleepy eyes I could blurrily see Dad's messy brown head bounce into my room. Today he bounced four times; was he nervous, or extra excited? "You know what time it is, my darling Fawny Boy!" He threw open one side of my curtains and tugged off my blanket in one smooth movement, letting a bright beam of sunlight flare straight down on my face.

I curled up away from the light and Dad's tickling tentacles of doom he called hands. I hated being tickled – I knew his pattern by now (sides, neck, toes, repeat) but my body reacts on its own when I'm laughing so hard. "Heh heh – Daaa- HAHA! Dad! No- I'm, hah, awake! I'm AWAKE!" Lashing out with my feet I tried to kick the glasses off his grinning face, knowing he swerves to the left when he tickles my toes. Some mornings, if I succeeded, I'd win myself enough time to tug my blanket back over my head long enough for Mum to save me a few seconds earlier.

This morning was not a successful morning. Must be 'Healer Hell' bad luck.

As the tickle torture continued, Mum called out into the room, "James, must you always traumatize your son awake?"

I tried to twist my way out of Dad's grip, turning to the open doorway where Mum stood smiling at us. "Mum!" I reached out a hand from the edge of my bed, "please… haha… save me!" As much as I wish I could honestly ask for help with all the feelings of I-hate-this-I-hate-this in my voice, Dad and Mum love the tickling routine. It's fun for them and ruining someone else's fun was bad, and I was a good boy. I have to be good. So, I 'jokingly' flopped over the side of the bed to play dead like every other morning to the laughter of Mum and Dad instead.

Dad gave a couple finishing tickles before he ruffled my hair and set me free, heading out of the room to start cooking breakfast. As I slipped on my glasses I saw Dad kiss Mum on the cheek on his way out and Mum crossed an arm over her chest to grip her other arm, only giving a small smile in return. Nervous signs. Something's different today if both Mum and Dad were nervous.

I crawled out of bed and gave Mum a quick hug good morning before heading over to my dresser. Mum took the chance to fix my bed while I got dressed. Most of my clothes were covered in red, gold, and roaring lions because Mum and Dad were Gryffindors in school. Those clothes were for fun, happy days and 'Healer Hell' days were not fun, happy days so I went with a plain green and blue outfit.

Mum failed to hide her smile when she noticed my outfit, and I shoved my clothes drawer closed and stomped out of the room. It was not funny! I am not happy, so my clothes won't be either! Mum thought it was funny, anyway, so she obviously wasn't upset about my outfit. Which would have been bad and not good at all. Mum said smart boys pick their own outfits, and being smart was good, so wearing this outfit was still ok even if I picked it because I was upset.

When I got to the kitchen Dad was already done cooking and pouring juice into our cups. I must have taken more time than usual to get dressed. Mum and I took our seats in the adjoining dining room and I was hit with the daily wash of emptiness at just the three of us sitting at the square dining table. I made sure not to stare at the fourth chair. Last time I did that Mum got a sad look on her face and only bad kids made their Mum sad.

I tried to not grumpily munch my way through Dad's special deer-shaped pancakes because good boys respect food that's cooked extra special for them, especially when it was rare for Dad to cook, but it was really hard when Dad only made the special 'Deer Cakes' because it was Healer Hell day. Dad's Deer Cakes were only really special on birthdays or holidays when Mum would charm them to prance around the table and you lured them to your plate with berries in order to actually eat them and it was easy to respect the food then.

All throughout breakfast Dad kept tapping the side of his plate and Mum sipped at her juice in-between bites. This would have been normal levels of nervous (though any level of nervous on a Healer Hell day made me extra nervous) if not for Dad only eating five bites of food and his periodic glances over at Mum.

I hid my sigh of relief behind my glass of juice when Mum finally asked Dad to 'help her start on the dishes' which was always code for talk-without-Aster-hearing.

The kitchen was behind my seat at the table, but the sound of water running told me Mum was at the sink and the clatter of the frying pan told me Dad was near the stove.

"James, what is it?" Mum whispered.

Looks like Dad 'forgot' to put up a Silencing Charm again. I'm glad Dad thought I was big enough to know what's going on. Mum always treats me like I'm too little for stuff. I grew another two inches this year!

"Lily, Remus let me know he's free to help take Aster to St. Mungo's this time," Dad mumbled. Uncle Moony's coming? Awesome!

Mum let out a quick sigh of relief. "Oh, thank Merlin. No one in their right minds would attack both of them. Not on Ministry property."

I barely had time to wonder what the Ministry had to do with people attacking me or Uncle Moony when Dad cut in, "It's necessary since we're using the main entrance this time." What? No! This 'Healer Hell' day just keeps getting worse and worse.

"James, are you sure?" Glad to know Mum agrees with me. "I know Albus said, but… Aster is still so young…"

I peeked over at Mum and Dad to see Dad grab Mum's shoulders, gently rubbing them. "I know, Lily, but Albus says it's safe for Aster to be seen in public more often now. The public is demanding to know how he's doing, too. His appointment schedule was leaked to the Prophet last week… We'll at least have more than enough witnesses to help keep any attackers away. You know I'd rather none of this was necessary," he declared, pulling Mum into a hug.

It was a good thing I was already done with breakfast; I felt sick. I hated it when Mum and Dad talked about that 'Albus' guy. It was always "Albus says Aster should do this", and "Albus says Aster should do that", and I've never ever met him. It was his fault I had Healer Hell days and it was his fault the table felt empty, and it was his fault I had to—

A chiming sound rang out through the house and a soft woosh of air was heard from the living room nearby, signaling that someone just arrived through the Floo. The sound of a trench coat shaking off soot once, then a spell swishing along fabric told me exactly who was here.

I hopped off my chair, running over and yelling, "Uncle Moony!" as the sandy-haired man walked down the hallway toward the dining room. The one grown-up in my life who understood what I go through.

With practiced ease I jumped as Uncle Moony jogged over to catch me. "Hey there, bud!" he called out, swinging me around once before hugging me close. "Healer Hell day, huh?" he whispered in my ear, "Remember, it's only Healer Hell inside the hospital, and then after your appointment we can have all the fun you want, 'cause afterwards it's—"

"Mungojerrie Day!" we both said together. Uncle Moony put me back on the ground and ruffled my hair, laughing as Dad groaned from the dining room.

"Moony!" Dad whined, "It's not even a good pun!"

"Hush, you." Mum swatted Dad on the arm as she came over to greet Uncle Moony. "I love that musical. We're lucky Tuney got us tickets to the West End premiere as a wedding gift or we'd never have been able to go see it. Tuney says it's going to go on tour in May!"

I wonder if Mum and Dad have the same arguments over the same things in the same way on purpose. It's eerie how they use almost the same exact words every time. Now, Dad was going to argue about Aunt Petunia and how—

"You know Petunia only got us those tickets because she thought it would be a waste of our time. Who ever thought a musical about cats was going to be successful?"

Then Mum was going to cut in about how—

"Andrew Lloyd Webber is a genius so of course it was going to be successful! In any case, you know theatre is one of the things I bond with Tuney over—"

"…after all those summer theatre camps." Dad, Uncle Moony and I grinned at each other as we finished Mum's sentence together.

A round of laughter filled the house as we all gathered ourselves for the main part of the day. On normal Healer Hell days Mum and Dad would just Floo with me to a special lobby at St. Mungo's, with Uncle Moony sometimes coming with us and sometimes meeting us at the hospital after my appointment was done. Today I could tell was different, even if Dad didn't let me listen to him tell Mum about the change in plans, I could tell how nervous everyone was.

After the laughter died down, Uncle Moony kept smoothing down his trench coat, Mum kept trying to fix my hair (you would think all the time she's been with Dad would teach her that Potter hair was hopeless), and Dad kept pacing.

It was time for me to be the good, smart boy. "Mum, Dad, Uncle Moony… are we leaving yet? It's almost…" I glanced over at the Hogwarts-shaped clock over on the corner table, "eight-thirty already! To be early is to be on time."

Dad grinned and gave me a high-five. "Right you are, Fawnster! That's my little Auror-in-Training." It made Dad happy to hear me repeat stuff he's said before, though only certain things, not everything, and not always exactly word-for-word. I learned the hard way that remembering the exact words Dad said about his boss one time and saying them out loud made Mum really angry and I wasn't allowed to say it again. Dad was kind of freaked out too.

Uncle Moony came over and knelt in front of me. "Okay bud, today we're not using the Floo to go to St. Mungo's. We're doing something new this time." No kidding.

"We're… Apparating?" I scrunched my nose up at the word. Apparating was the worst.

Uncle Moony laughed. "Yeah, I know, but it'll be over soon. Your mum and dad will be going ahead, and we'll be along right after them. After that, it's just a short walk up to the hospital. Think you can handle that?"

I nodded, knowing that not being able to handle it wouldn't change how I still needed to go. Uncle Moony grabbed my hand and Mum gave me a quick hug.

"There will be other people outside, Aster, and I know it might be scary but be brave for me," she said, cupping the side of my face with her hand. Her thumb lightly ran across my left cheek the way she always does when she remembers what the public calls me.

"It's okay, Mum," I replied, smiling back at her. "I'm just Aster, just me, even if everyone else thinks I'm something else." Even if you, Dad, Uncle Moony… even if Albus thinks I'm something else, too. I'm just Aster.

Mum smiled a soft smile and hugged me again. "Such a good boy," she whispered into my hair.

A swift cold grasped my heart hearing Mum praise me. She always thinks the best of me, thinks I don't like the attention of the public because I'm a good kid who doesn't enjoy the fame the way a spoiled, bad kid would. She thinks I'm brave for going out there where people think I'm a survivor, a good luck charm, a miracle…

I'm none of those things.

Hugging Mum and looking at Dad and Uncle Moony over her shoulder I felt my heart tighten with fear. Even if I'm not what they think I am I don't want them to know. I don't want to leave; to be sent away for being bad and not being what they want me to be. It would hurt them to find out and I don't want to hurt them.

Mum let me go and moved over to where Dad was waiting. "Time to go then." She nodded over at Uncle Moony and looked over at Dad.

Dad and Mum took a deep breath together and popped away at the same time. Uncle Moony grabbed my hand and checked in one last time, "You good to go, bud?"

I nodded, and with a 'crack' we popped away.

Harry

No one else ever woke up early at the St. Martin's Orphanage, and Harry always appreciated that fact. With everyone else asleep the world was quiet and peaceful, unlike the inevitable chaos over a dozen children stuck in an enclosed space could wreak under the exhausted supervision of too few adults.

No one else awake also meant no one was around to witness Harry leaving the grounds of the orphanage to head to the nearby shore. On an island like St. Martin's, the air was pleasantly warm despite the early hour.

Harry stepped his way past hedges and between bushes, avoiding the view of neighboring homes with practiced ease. The neighbors were quite nice – Mr. Bickford two doors down had his own tripper boat he would let the orphanage borrow once a month and Mrs. Jenkins would bring her two tabby cats and her Golden Retriever to the orphanage every weekend for the kids to play with – but living on an island meant everyone knew everyone and Harry would rather avoid the tedium of listening to the orphanage housemother lecture him yet again on 'wandering off at the crack of dawn'.

The crunch of gravel amidst grass underfoot and the taste of salt in the air told Harry he was close to his destination as he continued over the hilly terrain and away from the hedge-lined flower farms. Sloping down and into the sea was one of the island's many coves, Wine Cove, which bordered the Great Bay.

Harry often pondered the convention of names: why Wine Cove was the 'Wine' Cove when as far as Harry could see, there were neither vineyards nor wine-colored waters, or how the Great Bay only seemed to be slightly larger than the Little Bay and thus earning its name by happenstance. In a similar fashion, Harry often wondered why he was just… Harry.

Harry shook his head to interrupt his current train of thought and climbed down from grassy hills to where the rocky cove met the bay. Tucked into the side of the rocky wall was a small plateau of stone filled with sea water – Harry's destination.

Out here the waves were calm, barely moving unless a storm rolled in. Storms filled small pools like the one Harry stood in front of now, bringing plants and wildlife from the sea to the shore, but didn't threaten these same pools again for most of the year. The new plants and wildlife broke up the monotony of Harry's life and he cherished the mornings when he managed to find something he never saw before.

The rock pool was chest height for Harry and if he reached in, he could barely touch the bottom of it with his fingertips. A few tiny fish darted along the pool's depths, swerving around a lounging starfish. Swimming along in a figure eight along the surface of the water was a gleaming blue serpent with bands of pearlescent scales that sparkled when the sun hit its scales. As he stepped up to the pool, he cast a shadow across the surface and the snake stopped swimming.

The blue and pearl snake swam over and coiled up on the shallow side of the pool, lifting its head up to look over at Harry. "Good morning, Young Speaker," it hissed to Harry.

Harry nodded and hissed back, "Good morning, Saphyr." He reached out and ran a finger along the back of Saphyr's head and down the serpent's neck. A wave of calm accompanied the touch, one of the reasons Harry dutifully visited the serpent daily. "Look how you've grown; you're longer every time I see you Saphyr."

"Is it not the elders who usually say such words among humans, Young Speaker?" The snake replied, bumping its head against Harry's finger to signal it was being humorous. "I was once as long as you are tall and merely require sustenance to restore my size."

"Sustenance? Here? Do you need more fish?" Glancing at the tiny fish in the pool, Harry wondered if he could find any others in another rock pool somewhere. The thought of Saphyr growing so long made the rock pool seem so small, too. "And surely a pool this size is far too small then."

Harry's hands suddenly felt cold as he opened his mouth to say the words he prepared to say a month ago, yet delayed saying each day since then. Words that were for Saphyr's good and hurt Harry to say, but he cared about not hurting the snake more. "Do you- do you need to go back in the ocean?"

"Dearest Speaker," the serpent hissed, wrapping part of its length around Harry's finger and hand, "you honor me with your worries. Fear not, water is simply necessary to soak my scales once each sunrise and I do not feast on flesh, Young Speaker."

As Saphyr wound its way around Harry's hand he could feel his worries slip away and let out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding. It was great to know he hadn't kept the serpent stuck in a terrible situation the past few months. Saphyr's tendency to primarily speak words filled with "S" sounds always amused Harry, too. Then, the last few words registered in Harry's mind.

"What do you eat, then? How have you been growing?"

Saphyr stared at Harry in the way non-blinking serpents do and appeared to hesitate. It started to loosen its hold on Harry's hand before wrapping around his hand again and moved further up Harry's arm.

The snake flicked its tongue along Harry's wrist. "You are a smart human, Young Speaker, I trust you will ascertain my tastes eventually. For now, trust that I am well situated here." Harry began to feel a warmth that felt like relief smoothing away his concerns. "How go your classes at the orphanage, child?"

Glad to know Saphyr was safe staying in the rock pool for now, Harry fell back into the easy routine of telling the snake about the day before.

Yesterday was a science day for the orphanage as the housefather and housemother took turns teaching a different subject to the children each day. Each set of children around the same age would have their own age-appropriate activity for the day and spring was the time of year the children started taking care of plants for science days.

The youngest children got to play alphabet games naming various plants. Six and seven-year-olds would each plant a potato, the eight and nine-year-olds got strawberries, and the older children chose between planting a sunflower or helping take care of the lemon trees out behind the orphanage.

As Harry finished telling Saphyr how he planned to raise this year's strawberry plant differently – last year his strawberries seemed too small – he felt the sun begin to shine on his face.

The serpent noticed as well, releasing Harry's hand and slipping back into the rock pool. "Many thanks for visiting, Young Speaker," Saphyr hissed as it stretched and curved into a loose spiral in the water. "Know you are always welcome to share your fears and doubts with me."

"Of course, Saphyr, thank you for always listening." No matter what happened the day before, these mornings with Saphyr never failed to restore a sense of calm in Harry and he felt better prepared to face the day for it. "I wish I could take you back with me."

"It is not safe." It was abnormally blunt for Saphyr. Usually it would insist it was not pet material. The snake explained, "Most humans fear serpents, especially venomous ones, yes? They will not hesitate to strike once I am noticed."

Images and emotions flashed across Harry's mind at Saphyr's words.

A shabby shack surrounded by tangled trees.

A snake stabbed through with a dagger, pinned to the door.

Pride, disgust, and rage.

A bright flash of green.

Harry shook his head violently, gasping for breath as one hand clutched his chest and the other his head. What set him off this time? The thought of Saphyr getting hurt? Through the sound of his pounding heart, Harry could hear the serpent attempting to reassure him.

"Young Speaker, I apologize, I did not mean to upset you. I am safe here." Saphyr reared up out of the water and nearly darted over to Harry but held back. "Go, it is nearly time for breakfast, child."

"It's okay, Saphyr, it wasn't you," Harry said, fighting against the lingering anger in his body, "it's—I'll explain tomorrow, you're right I need to go."

Harry jogged his way back to the orphanage, knowing exercise relieved the tension that strangled his body after a 'Memory Moment'. He barely noticed the scenery changing as he sped by. Frustration filled Harry's mind at the realization that the Memory Moment erased any semblance of calm he felt from talking to Saphyr.

Near the back of the orphanage was a section of the building that collapsed decades ago, and the orphanage never spent the money needed to renovate it. Around the same time it collapsed the number of orphans around the country was declining, apparently, and the local government failed to see the need to spend money fixing rooms that wouldn't be used again as long as the rest of the building was still safe to use.

The situation suited Harry well as it provided him an easy way in and out of the building without walking past the houseparents' rooms.

In the rubble-covered entrance of what the orphans called the 'Abandoned Hallway' was a young girl, her blonde hair up in pigtails. A bright blue ribbon wrapped diagonally around the side of her face including her right eye and ended in a bow around her left pigtail.

"Sally, you're awake," Harry greeted and gave the girl a hug, glad she woke up and waited for him. The last vestiges of frustration and anger faded away and he was calm again. Leaning his head against hers, he noticed he was still only slightly taller than her, even though she was already short. Someday he'll gain some height, he's sure of it.

Sally giggled and shook her head, one of her pigtails tickling his nose. "I can wake up jus' fine without 'cha, Harry."

"You're right," he said as he smoothed down her bangs and tightened the bow in her hair. "It's the sleeping you don't do enough of."

She stepped out of his hug and pushed his chest lightly. "Stop actin' like Housefather Frost or somethin', yer only nine! I'm older'n you 'n all, too."

Harry laughed as they started walking further into the orphanage to head to breakfast. "We still don't know my birthday, Sally, you're nine, too."

"I was born in Febroo- Febyoo-" she sighed gustily and continued, "the second month of the year! I'm older." Harry smiled as Sally spoke evenly and properly at the end there. Every day she affected some sort of accent, proclaiming that she was raised 'all proper like' but that it didn't matter anymore so we would talk however she wanted to now.

Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or envious of the fact that Sally knew the world that abandoned her, knew what she was now rebelling against. He knew this island and nothing else. He existed through the daily routine of breakfast, class, lunch, playtime, dinner with the blandness of monotony punctuated by seemingly random visions that filled him with panic and rage. Then Sally arrived at the orphanage, added friendship to his days. Then he added visiting the rock pool and talking to Saphyr and added catharsis to his mornings. His routine started to feel like something he could call living.

He wondered how his routine would change again. Something would happen soon.

He could feel it in his soul.

I would like to note that I have never personally been to the Isles of Scilly. Everything written here is a product of extensive research *cough* Google *cough* and my own imagination.

Saphyr looks like a blue-lipped sea krait except the usual bands of black scales look like scales of abalone shell instead.

Additionally, if you somehow stumbled across the earlier incarnation of this work ("Wrong, All Wrong") years and years ago (literally over a decade ago), thank you for reading this again and sincere apologies. It took too many years for me to realize I wasn't updating my fic because I was dissatisfied with how I started it originally and I have my lovely partner to thank for inspiring me to completely rewrite the story. I missed Aster, Harry, Saphyr, this whole universe and I'm so excited to dive back in.