It had been barely a week since the start of the school year. Returning to Hogwarts always brought with it the same feeling: the constant noise of the students, academic obligations, the unbreakable routines of the houses, and of course, the silent tension that ran through the castle's corridors.
Now, however, everything was calm.
Aurelian rested in his room, reclining on his bed, the green velvet curtains drawn to one side. The murmur of the water in the Black Lake could be heard, barely audible from the cold stones of the walls, creating a peaceful atmosphere. His hands rested behind his head and his eyes remained fixed on the dim light filtering through the bedroom windows.
The most vivid memory that came to mind was that of his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The image of Quirinus Quirrell, or whatever Quirrell was now, remained stuck in his memory like a thorn.
The way the professor had entered the classroom, with a confidence unlike that of the pathetic man described in the books of his past life, had baffled him. And then, those eyes. Those eyes that seemed to scrutinize him as if they had known him since before he was born.
Aurelian shifted in bed, clenching his jaw.
He wasn't just anyone. He knew when someone was watching him with hidden intentions. Quirrell wasn't looking at him like a teacher examines a talented student, or even like he was studying a potential enemy. No... there was something else. Something disturbing.
He turned on his side, closing his eyes. The murmur of the water brought him a glimmer of calm, but the same question kept repeating itself in his mind:
"Who are you really, Quirinus Quirrell?"
A shadow of suspicion loomed over his thoughts, a premonition that his third year at Hogwarts would be nothing like what he had experienced before.
The sound of light footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. Aurelian opened one eye just as the curtains of his bed were pulled back with a sharp movement.
"There you are!" said Flora, entering without any embarrassment, followed closely by Hestia, who was carrying a book under her arm.
"We thought you'd slept all day," added Hestia, sitting down on the side of the bed and looking at him with an amused expression.
Aurelian sighed, sitting up to lean against the headboard.
"I was thinking..."
"Of course..." Flora replied, crossing her arms as she looked at him with bright eyes. "Sometimes it seems like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."
Hestia nodded gently, but her tone was softer.
"We know you don't tell us everything... but it doesn't matter. We just want to be with you."
Aurelian suppressed a smile. The twins were intense, jealous... very jealous and sometimes a little suffocating, but they were sincere.
"Soon there will be things they need to know," he finally said, in a low voice.
They both looked at him in surprise, but before they could press him with questions, Aurelian changed the subject:
"I was remembering the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
The twins looked at him expectantly, leaning a little closer to him, almost as if they wanted the words to come out of his mouth by force.
Aurelian closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to drift back in his memory, the recollection beginning to form clearly.
He was sitting at his wooden desk, with floating torches dimly lighting the classroom.
The door opened with a loud bang, and Professor Quirrell entered.
He walked with his back straight, no trace of the turban that in other stories seemed inseparable from him. His gaze was piercing, proud, as if each student in front of him were nothing more than an insect destined to crawl under his feet.
He stopped in front of the desk and let a tense silence fall before speaking.
"Many of you know me as the professor of Muggle Studies," he said in a clear, cold voice, without hesitation, "but this year... this year I will have the honor of teaching you something more useful: Defense Against the Dark Arts."
A murmur ran through the classroom. Aurelian watched every gesture, every word. There was power in that voice.
Quirrell continued, walking slowly between the rows of desks, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Magic... is not simply a set of wand movements or memorized formulas." His lips curled into a sneer. "Magic is will. It is the art of imposing our truth on reality. Anyone who believes it is just about spells is doomed to be a victim of those who know how to use magic with true mastery."
Aurelian felt a chill run down his spine. It was exactly how Voldemort would have spoken, about how magic was power, that it was an extension of will.
Quirrell paused, looking up at the students, and for a moment his eyes met Aurelian's. It was not a casual glance, it was a look of recognition. As if the man were studying his reaction to those words.
Aurelian held his gaze calmly, but inside, a thought pierced him like a dagger:
"You are not Quirinus Quirrell. You are my father."
The air grew heavier, as if with every word the professor spoke, it spilled over them like a truth that went beyond.
"Here you will learn to defend yourselves... yes," Quirrell continued, his voice lower, almost hypnotic. "But you will also learn what power means. Because without power, without the strength to sustain yourselves, defense is nothing more than an illusion."
The silence in the classroom was absolute. Even the most rowdy Gryffindors seemed spellbound, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Aurelian didn't look away. He felt that those words weren't directed at the class, but at him, and him alone.
He blinked, leaving behind the memory of that disturbing class. The echo of Quirrell's words still reverberated in his mind, but when he turned his face and found Hestia and Flora, he felt the weight slowly dissipate.
They were by his side, one leaning on his right shoulder and the other on his left, talking quietly until they noticed that he had returned from his thoughts.
"My father..."
The idea had been on his mind for a long time, but he had never had the courage to say it out loud in front of them.
"I want to tell you something," he began suddenly, his voice low, barely a whisper.
The twins looked at him immediately.
"What's wrong, Aurelian?" asked Hestia, searching his gaze.
"Did someone do something to you?" added Flora, a hint of alarm in her voice.
Aurelian shook his head gently.
"No. It's not that. But what I'm about to tell you... might change what you think of me."
They didn't hesitate for a second. Flora squeezed his hand and Hestia leaned toward him.
"Nothing will change how we feel," Flora said firmly.
"Say it," Hestia whispered. "We're listening."
Aurelian took a long breath, letting the tension in his shoulders build before exploding.
"My father... was no ordinary man. He was a brilliant, ambitious wizard, someone who rose from nothing to become one of the most powerful of his time. Intelligent like few others, calculating, charismatic... a man who could have been remembered as a great leader, perhaps even as a Sage."
His words hung in the air. The twins did not interrupt him, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and tenderness.
Aurelian lowered his voice.
"But he was cruel. He let his hatred consume him, his fear of death dominate him. He believed that only 'blood purity' gave a wizard value, and he used his power to impose his will on the world. They feared him, and with good reason."
The silence grew deeper. In a subdued tone, he uttered the name he had kept silent for so long.
"My father was... was Voldemort."
The twins looked at him in complete silence. Not a gesture of horror, fear, or rejection. They just stared at him.
It was Flora who spoke first, moving even closer.
"Aurelian... that doesn't change who you are."
Hestia nodded quickly, caressing his cheek.
"You are not your father. Not his crimes, not his obsessions. You are you. The boy who saved two twins in an alley, the young man who studies until dawn because he wants to understand magic, the one who only truly smiles when he is with us."
Aurelian felt those words hit him in the chest. Everything he had carried silently since birth shattered in that moment.
"What if I end up the same?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.
"No," Flora interrupted firmly.
"We won't let that happen," Hestia added, squeezing his hand tightly.
Tears welled up in Aurelian's eyes, and a sob escaped his lips before he could stop it. The twins were surprised to see him break down, but far from pulling away, they hugged him with all their strength.
"We'll always be with you," Hestia whispered in his ear.
"We will never leave you alone," said Flora, clinging to his arm.
Aurelian looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks, and smiled honestly, without masks or defenses.
"I love you," he said, his voice broken but firm. "I really love you."
The twins fell silent, their eyes lighting up instantly.
"Do you mean it?" whispered Flora, wanting to confirm his words.
"Do you really love us?" repeated Hestia, as if she needed to hear it twice.
He nodded, taking each of their hands firmly.
"That's why... I want to ask you something."
He leaned toward them.
"Will you be my girlfriends?"
The silence lasted only a second, but it felt like an eternity. Then, they both hugged him so tightly that they almost knocked him onto the bed.
"Yes!" they exclaimed in unison, laughing and crying at the same time.
Aurelian, without thinking twice, leaned first toward Hestia and kissed her on the lips, gently but expressing all the emotions he felt inside. Then he turned to Flora and kissed her in the same way, with the same tenderness and the same devotion.
When they parted, the twins looked at him with so much love that it was a little overwhelming.
"We will always be yours," whispered Flora.
"And you will always be ours," whispered Hestia.
The heir to Slytherin, son of the most feared wizard of recent times, felt, for the first time, truly free.
The following days passed with the apparent routine of classes and homework, but it didn't take a particularly keen observer to notice that something had changed in Aurelian and the Carrow twins.
They had always been inseparable, a fact known throughout Hogwarts, and no one was surprised to see them walking side by side or sharing a table, laughter, and confidences. However, now the atmosphere around them was different.
At the Slytherin table, some students whispered quietly. Theodore Nott frowned, muttering something to Millicent Bulstrode, while Pansy Parkinson kept watching them with a mixture of curiosity and envy. Even Draco Malfoy, with his usual arrogance, lost track of his conversations for a moment when he noticed how Hestia and Flora leaned gently against Aurelian.
In Gryffindor, it didn't take long for them to comment. Fred and George Weasley, who already knew him well, exchanged knowing glances.
"Do you notice the same thing I do, George?"
"Absolutely, Fred. Our snake friend is no longer just accompanied."
Cedric, from the Hufflepuff table, watched them with a serene smile, understanding without words that something profound had changed in his friend.
The teachers also noticed the difference. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow when she saw them enter the Transfiguration classroom together, behaving in a way that suggested they were more than just friends. Snape, on the other hand, barely let out a look of disgust, as if what he saw confirmed something he already suspected.
Only Dumbledore, from the head table, smiled to himself. There was a special sparkle in the boy's eyes, one he had never seen before. He didn't need magic to know that Aurelian had taken a decisive step in his life.
And so, without anyone being able to pinpoint the exact moment, everyone at Hogwarts understood: the bond between Aurelian, Hestia, and Flora was no longer just closeness. It had become something much deeper.
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