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The Locket by Alice Elizabeth Greenfield

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Chapter One – The Visitor

Laurel Lane was, for all intents and purposes, a normal street. It looked just like Wisteria Avenue behind it, and had the same brick mailboxes as Maple Avenue, two streets over. The only thing to distinguish Number 207, Laurel Lane from the rest of the block was the number on the door. Until you went inside, at least.

For one thing, the inside of the house was much larger than you would have thought, based on the outside. Half of the neighborhood put this down to good decorating. The other half gave the credit to great organizational skills.

But the weirdest thing about Number 207 were the pictures. They moved. Not that any of the neighbors seemed to notice that when they visited. They also didn't seem to notice the large birdcage on table in the corner, beside a stack of newspapers, each labeled Daily Prophet; this cage usually held a large gray owl. It now stood empty.

On the mantle stood several pictures of the same four people. To the far left, there was a photo of a man and a woman with their arms around each other's waists. The woman had jet-black hair that almost reached her waist, and beautiful blue eyes behind black-framed glasses. Her head lay on the shoulder of a man with shaggy, light brown hair and bright green eyes, laughing up at the camera. They smiled and waved at the picture-taker.

Directly to the right of the first, there was a picture of the same two people, this time with their arms around two teenage girls, who both looked to be about fourteen or fifteen years old. There was a Christmas tree in the background, lights twinkling merrily. All four wore red fuzzy hats, shaped like cones, with a fuzzy white ball at the tip and a white band around the bottom. One of the girls had an arm around the cat, trying to fit it with a headband with antlers attached, while the rest of the family looked on and laughed.

From the kitchen came the sounds of gentle clinking and softly splashing water as the breakfast dishes washed themselves. An old-fashioned radio, turned down low, announced that up next was "Witching Hour".

The back door opened, and into the kitchen walked a tall girl with her mother's long black hair, and her father's bright green eyes. She kicked off her running shoes and left them beside the door. Pulling the elastic out of her hair, she headed into the living room and pulled back the edge of the curtains, scanning the street below, but there was nothing in sight.

Running her fingers through her hair, she bounded up the stairs two at a time. She opened the door to the master suite, unzipped her windbreaker, and threw it on the bed. Her morning run always left her with a thin coat of sweat, and she was eager to wash it off. Pushing through the swinging door that separated her parent’s room from the bath, she reached into the shower and cranked the hot water all the way up.

While she waited for the water to heat up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. With the high cheekbones and slightly darker skintone left over from her mother's Cherokee heritage, as well as the finer features of her father's European background, she had a memorable face. While this combination of features might have made her look as delicate as the roses that her mother grew in the front garden, her well-toned body gave her an air of strength that was almost tangible.

Stepping into the shower, she sighed as her muscles slowly began to unknot under the steaming hot water. After standing there for a few minutes, she sighed again and grabbed her coconut-scented shampoo.

Five minutes later, she shut off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself before snagging another to wrap around her hair; then she headed across the hall to a room done entirely in shades of blue and green.

Reaching into the closet, she pulled out a light blue, plaid button-down and a pair of grey skinny jeans. Pulling on a solid black undershirt, she glanced at the clock, then shook her head in disgust. Past three o'clock, she thought; she really had overslept. However, her disgust quickly changed to worry. Everyone should be home by now…

She finished getting dressed and skipped back down the stairs, just in time to watch a large tawny owl swoop in through the open kitchen window, drop two heavy envelopes onto the table, and soar back out. She rushed over and picked them up. The top envelope was addressed to

Miss A. Greenfield
Smallest Upstairs Room
Number 207, Laurel Lane
London, England

She barely had time for a smile before she heard a shriek behind her.

"Ali!!" Her sister squealed, throwing her arms around her waist. "I missed you!" she laughed.

Alice Greenfield laughed. "Missed you too, Lexa," she said, hugging her twin back. "Did you see Mom and Dad on your way here?" she asked. "They should have been back by now."

Alexa's brow wrinkled for a moment with worry, then she shrugged. "No, but they're almost always late coming home, aren't they? I'm sure they'll be here soon. So, what's for lunch? I'm starved."

Ali laughed. "Lunchtime was three hours ago," she said, then, seeing her sister start to pout, she laughed and said, "But I'll see what I can whip up." Turning to open the fridge, she called back over her shoulder, "Oh by the way, Hogwarts letters are here. Got here just before you did. Should have our O.W.L. results," she added nonchalantly, trying to hide the fact that these words had her stomach plummeting to her feet.

Ali opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen pizza, and turned to preheat the oven, listening as Lexa ripped open her letter. There was a pause. Ali turned and asked, "Well?"

Lexa didn't answer. Instead, she asked a question of her own. "Are you going to open yours?" she asked, not looking up from her paper. Slightly wary, Ali opened her own envelope.

There were three pieces of parchment inside. The first was a reminder that term started on September 1st; the next, the book list. The only changes were The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6, and The Comprehensive Guide to Defending Against the Dark Arts.

The third parchment was headed "O.W.L. Results". She quickly scanned the page, and let out a sigh of relief.

Charms – O
Care of Magical Creatures – O
Defense Against the Dark Arts – EE
Potions – EE
Transfiguration – EE
Astronomy – A
History of Magic – P
Divination – D

Ali smiled. Trying to look over her sister's shoulder, she asked, "So, what did you get?" Lexa silently held out her parchment for Ali to look over.

Charms - EE
Care of Magical Creatures - EE
Defense Against the Dark Arts - EE
Potions - A
Transfiguration - EE
Astronomy - P
History of Magic - D
Divination - D

Ali read it over, then smiled at her sister. "Everything's good, except for the three hardly anyone passes. Don't worry about them, you'll probably never even need them."

Lexa gave Ali a slight smile. "If you say so."

Ali laughed as she slid the pizza in the oven. "I do." She grinned, then looked back at her booklist. "I wonder what Kingsley's got in store for us this year," she mused, pointing at the Defense Against the Dark Arts book. "This is the only new book he's had us get since first year." Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken over as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Lexa glanced at her own list, then shrugged. "Maybe it's someone new?" she suggested. "Kingsley didn't resign, did he?"

Ali shrugged back. "There wasn't anything about it in the Prophet, so I doubt it." She looked out the window, biting her lip. "Are you sure you didn't see them?" she asked. "It's almost four....."

Lexa sighed. "Ali, I'm sure that they're fine. Aren't they always late?"

Ali pressed her lips together, then said, "Yeah, but I worry just the same. Their jobs are dangerous." Their parents were Aurors, and had left a few days before without telling anyone, even their daughters, where they were going. Top-secret, they had said, no one knew where they were going except the Minister of Magic herself. They would be back early Friday morning, they had promised.

It was almost four o'clock now. On Saturday.

Ali reminded her sister of this. "They've never been this late before," she fretted. Then, seeing her sister was starting to worry as well, she added hastily, "But you're probably right. I bet they just lost track of the time."

She poured herself a glass of apple juice and sat down at the kitchen table. Motioning to the seat across from her, she said to Lexa, "C'mon, sit down. Tell me about your trip." Lexa had been in Italy with some friends for the last week.

Lexa's eyes lit up. "It was amazing!" she gushed. It was obvious that she had been dying to talk about it, but had held back, waiting for Ali to bring it up. "Italy is a beautiful country, with beautiful food," she laughed. "And lets not forget," she said, her voice dropping conspiratorially, "the beautiful men." She raised her eyebrows, eliciting a laugh from her twin.

Ali shook her head at her sister. Lexa was so focused on guys that it amazed her that she ever got anything done.

Lexa laughed, seeming to know what her sister was thinking. "Hey, other stuff was good too. Like... the food. And... the scenery. And.... Hey, the art was good. Beautiful buildings, wonderful architecture. Good food."

"You already said that," Ali laughed. "So who is he?" Smiling at the shocked look on Lexa's face, she said, "I know you, Lexa. You met somebody on this trip. So, who is he?" she asked again, trying not to laugh.

Alexa grinned and pulled a picture out of the back pocket of her jeans, smoothing it out before handing it to her sister. "Whaddya think?"

Ali reached out and took the picture, looking down at a boy who looked to be about seventeen. He was evidently a wizard, because the picture was moving. He had an arm around her sister, and leaned in to kiss her cheek before turning to laugh at the camera. He had straight shaggy black hair and green, green eyes, as well as a gorgeous smile and a super-thin, rock-hard body, made evident by the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt. There was a beautiful beach in the background, completely free of tourists. He was clearly the kind of guy who could capture a heart in an instant; he had obviously captured Lexa's, who had her arm around his waist, her usually straight brown hair falling in soft curls to her shoulders. Her beautiful blue eyes twinkled up at the camera, closing for a brief moment when his lips touched her cheek.

Ali looked up at her sister, trying to keep the laughter from showing in her eyes. "He's all right," she said dismissively, then laughed as Lexa's face fell. "Lexa, he's gorgeous. How'd you catch him?" she asked, still chuckling.

Her sister smiled. "I didn't, exactly. I was at the market with Aleigha, buying food, and he ran right into me. The food went everywhere, and he was apologizing all over the place, and asking how he could possibly make it up to me; he really made such a big fuss of it. Anyway, Aleigha sidled up and was all like, 'You should take her to dinner,' and he latched on to it and kept on and on about it, until I simply couldn't say no. So, of course, first night in Italy and I had a date with the hottest guy in the country." She smiled smugly, then added, "Not that I expected anything less, of course."

She gestured at the photo now laying between them on the table. "And as you can see, we hit it off pretty well. He had something planned for us every day that I was in the country." She sighed wistfully. "I almost regret leaving," she added longingly.

"Almost?" Ali asked.

"Well, I did miss home. I'm not completely heartless," Lexa replied, sticking her tongue out at Ali.

"Real mature," Ali chuckled. "So, does dream boy have a name?"

Lexa laughed. "As a matter of fact, he does," she replied. "Dante Marco."

"As in 'Polo'?" Ali asked with a chortle.

"No, as in Marinelli," she retorted.

Ali laughed. "At least he's cute," she said dismissively.

Lexa gaped. "Are you kidding me?" she demanded. "He's more than cute; he's gorgeous!" She shook her head, unbelieving.

Alice laughed. "Well, I am a little biased," she admitted. She was soon lost in the convoluted landscape of a daydream about the very bias she spoke of.

Lexa laughed at her sister. "You never give up, do you?" she asked. Ali ignored her.

They lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. The oven timer beeped, startling them out of their reveries. Ali was just sliding the pizza slices onto their plates when there was a knock on the door. Racing Lexa to get it, Ali threw open the door. Her heart sank for a moment when she saw it wasn't their parents. Then, her smile popped right back up as she said, "Hey, Uncle Harry!"

Harry Potter was an Auror, along with both of their parents, and his best friend, Ron Weasley. They had all joined at the same time, and became really close friends, so much so that Harry and Ginny Potter had been named godparents to Ali and Lexa.

Harry smiled briefly at them, and then grabbed them both up in a hug. "There's my girls," he said, then let them go. "So, can I come in, or are you gonna make me stand outside all day?"

Ali laughed and moved out of the way. "I just made some pizza. Want some?" Harry shook his head. "So, come to wish us happy birthday a little early, are we? Or is there another reason that you decided to come visit us for the first time in a week?" she asked teasingly.

Harry moved into the living room and sat down in her father's worn blue armchair, rubbing his face. "There's another reason," he told them. Ali heard a slight tremble in his voice. Oh, no, Ali thought. She exchanged wary looks with her sister.

"So what's up?" Lexa asked. "There's not something wrong with Ginny or the kids, is there?" Ali tensed up for the answer to her sister's question.

"No, they're fine," Harry replied. He still looked nervous. Upset, even.

"Well, what is it then?" Alexa asked a little impatiently. Harry kept glancing off to the side of where the twins were seated on the couch. Following his gaze, Alice saw that he was looking at all of the pictures on the mantle. Walking over to them, Ali picked up the one of her parents with their arms around each other, laughing at the camera. Feeling her entire body grow cold with dread, she opened her mouth to ask the question, but couldn't. She didn't need to.

Looking up to meet Harry's pain-filled eyes, she knew. There was nothing in this world that could hurt him this much, except for the loss of two of his best friends. Needing to be absolutely certain, she managed to whisper, "It's our parents." Not exactly a question, but she still needed an answer, needed him to deny it, to say she had it all wrong, that he didn't mean to give her that impression, they were just going to be a few more days, that was all.

Harry couldn't do anything but nod.

She heard Lexa gasp from the couch, and then her world came crashing down around her. She barely heard the sound of breaking glass as the picture frame slipped through her suddenly limp fingers. She heard, as though from a great distance, her sister's quiet sobs, and Harry's equally quiet explanations.

"They should have been back late Thursday night, so we were already on high alert. We didn't hear anything at all from them until almost noon Friday. That's when the distress signal went out. A fox Patronus." That would have been her mother's; their Patronuses were the same. "And so we went looking," Harry continued. "We didn't find anything for a long time, even though we had our toughest Aurors on it. About an hour ago, we found this, in the middle of a field."

Ali looked up at these words, to see what he was holding. A small locket dangled from his hand, on a fine silver chain. Lexa reached out her hand for it, and Harry handed it to her with a sad smile. She opened it, and looked at it for a moment, before snapping it shut once more.

Finally finding her legs again, Ali walked over to her sister, sitting beside her on the sofa. Lexa silently handed her the locket. On the outside was on ornate silver G. Tracing it with her finger for a moment, she flipped it open and saw a picture of her and Lexa, taken on their fifteenth birthday. They had their arms around each other, laughing and hamming it up for the camera. They both proudly sported brand-new Firebolts, slung over their shoulders, and the smiles on their faces were so wide you thought that their faces would split.

Ali felt her eyes begin to burn, but she didn't want to cry. She was the strong one, she had always been. Not that Lexa wasn't tough, but she wasn't afraid to let someone see her cry, to know that she was vulnerable. Ali couldn't stand it. She could count on her two hands the number of people that had seen her cry, and now two of them were most likely dead.

Suddenly finding this more than she could take, she thrust the locket back into Harry's hands, and ran through the living room, into the kitchen, out the back door. Stumbling to a halt in the yard, she felt a single tear roll down her face. Where it landed, a small green shoot pushed its way out of the earth, a flower growing in a moments time what would usually take many weeks, and soon there stood a single white lily, swaying slightly in the breeze.

Bending to pick it up, Ali felt something inside her soul break. Collapsing to the ground, she knelt there, in that spot, and cried.