The massive doors of Gaunt Manor swung wide open, letting in a strong gust of wind and two figures radiating an incredibly euphoric energy.
Hestia and Flora Carrow hurried into the foyer. No sooner had they set foot inside than Stinky appeared before them with a soft plop.
"Welcome back to Gaunt Manor, Misses Carrow!" Stinky greeted them with a deep, cheerful bow, his large ears quivering with excitement at seeing them again.
The girls, who usually looked down on anyone or any creature they considered inferior (which was almost everyone), gave Stinky a radiant smile.
"Hello, Stinky!" they greeted him in unison, brimming with enthusiasm.
"In a moment, all your belongings will be in your room, young ladies," the elf assured them.
With a simple snap of his fingers, the absurd number of heavy trunks the girls had brought with them—enough to move in permanently, not just for a short summer visit—disappeared.
"Thank you so much, Stinky!" Hestia and Flora said hurriedly.
Without wasting another second of their time, the twins dashed off. They knew the layout of the mansion like the palm of their hands, so they moved at full speed, practically running through the wide hallways, dodging ancient suits of armor and paintings with the agility of two cats about to pounce. Their sole objective was to find their future husband's room.
They were moving so fast, blinded by the excitement of seeing him again, that as they took the last sharp turn in the hallway leading to the main wing... they crashed head-on into something that felt like a stone wall.
"Ouch!" they said in hushed voices.
The impact was brutal. Hestia and Flora bounced off and fell heavily to the floor.
Accustomed to no one daring even to breathe near them, fury flared in their dark eyes immediately. They lifted their heads, their faces contorted with rage, ready to scream and curse whoever the imbecile was who had crossed their path.
But the words died in their throats when they saw who they had collided with, their eyes widening in shock.
The tall, imposing figure clad in black robes, who had his back to them, came to a halt. Slowly, Lord Voldemort turned his head and then his entire body, fixing his cold, piercing gaze on the two teenage girls lying on the ground. The aura of power emanating from the Dark Lord was so overwhelming that it would have made any other wizard or witch wet themselves in terror.
But Hestia and Flora were no ordinary witches. They were Carrows, and their devotion and obsessive love belonged to one person alone.
Hestia blinked, studying Tom Riddle's pale, aristocratic face. She tilted her head to one side, took her sister's hand, and without the slightest hint of embarrassment, murmured aloud.
"It's like looking at Aurelian… only older and much uglier."
Flora, without taking her eyes off Voldemort, nodded with complete seriousness, scrutinizing the features of the most feared dark wizard of the past decades as if she were judging a poor-quality painting.
"Definitely," Flora agreed, speaking with conviction. "Our Aurelian is so much more beautiful and handsome than the person standing before us. There's no comparison."
The silence that followed those comments was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Lord Voldemort froze. His mind, capable of unraveling the deepest secrets of magic and orchestrating the downfall of entire governments, short-circuited at those words.
Had these two girls just called him... ugly?
The Dark Lord blinked a couple of times, completely taken aback, staring at the two teenage girls sitting in the hallway.
"What?" was the only syllable that managed to escape Voldemort's lips; his voice lacked any trace of menace, replaced by pure, genuine confusion at the most absurd lack of respect he had ever witnessed in his entire life. He'd been told all sorts of things during his time in this world, but never, "ugly."
Suddenly, a burst of laughter rang through the hallway.
Aurelian stepped out from behind her father's imposing figure. He wore a comfortable turtleneck sweater and made no attempt to hide how much the situation was amusing him. Seeing his fearsome father completely disarmed by the girls' brutal honesty and blind love was priceless.
Upon seeing their fiancé, Hestia and Flora completely forgot about Voldemort's existence.
They leapt to their feet so quickly they seemed to levitate in the air and threw themselves at Aurelian. They hugged him tightly, wrapping their arms around his torso and neck.
"My Love!" they both squealed, burying their faces in his chest, rubbing against him like two kittens, radiating happiness at having him between them again.
Aurelian chuckled softly, losing his balance slightly from the impact, but he held them firmly. He raised his hands and began to gently stroke their hair, a gesture that made the twins smile even wider, closing their eyes and sighing with pure pleasure at the feel of his touch.
Aurelian lifted his head above them and looked at his father, who was still watching the scene with a slight frown and an expression of having absolutely no idea what was going on.
"Father," said Aurelian, still smiling and continuing to stroke the girls' hair, "may I introduce my beautiful fiancées. Hestia and Flora Carrow." He kissed Hestia and Flora on the head. "Girls, this is my father. The well-known and famous Archmage Lord Voldemort… or Tom Gaunt, as he likes to call himself now."
Hestia and Flora turned their heads slightly, still pressed against Aurelian's chest, and gave Voldemort a quick, rather disinterested nod, clearly annoyed at having to divert their attention from their beloved, even for a second.
Voldemort watched them in silence. He looked at his son, who seemed perfectly comfortable being smothered by the girls' possessive love, then looked closely at Alaric Carrow's daughters. The madness of that family was certainly hereditary, but at least they were loyal to his son… I wonder... if Alaric had been a woman, would he have behaved like his daughters?
The Dark Lord shuddered at the very thought and slowly shook his head, deciding that ruling Britain was a much easier headache to deal with than dealing with these teenagers.
"I'll go find Barty," Voldemort muttered under his breath, turning away. "Try not to break anything."
Aurelian watched him walk down the hallway, the amused smile never leaving his face.
Once the Dark Lord's figure turned the corner, Hestia and Flora lifted their heads from Aurelian's chest. They looked at each other and let out a soft, melodious giggle.
"Well… well," Hestia remarked, standing on tiptoe to kiss Aurelian's cheek. "For the great and almighty Dark Lord, he really just seems like a grumpy father."
"A very grumpy one," agreed Flora, kissing his other cheek before looking at him with hungry eyes. "Now, my love… you promised us we'd go to your room, didn't you?"
Hestia and Flora's first week at Gaunt Manor flew by in the blink of an eye, transforming it into a surprisingly lively place.
Aurelian had watched with fascination as his fiancées adapted to the new Gaunt Manor. Far from being intimidated by the presence of the Death Eaters coming and going, the Carrow twins moved through the hallways with the same confidence and arrogance as he did.
But what had surprised—and amused—her most was the unexpected dynamic that had developed between themselves, Nagini, and Barty Crouch Jr.
Hestia and Flora met Nagini on their second day at the mansion, and to everyone's amazement, they became close friends almost immediately. The girls, true to their usual nature, seemed to understand the woman perfectly. They even went so far as to friendly corner Barty to give him "some advice" on how to make Nagini fall completely in love with him. It wasn't that Barty needed much help in that department, but the real problem was that Nagini was incredibly shy and demure, unable to take the next step. The twins, experts at getting and achieving whatever they set their minds to, had made it their goal to fix the situation.
Furthermore, that same week had marked a major milestone in the wizarding world: Aurelian's seventeenth birthday.
He had reached the magical age of majority, and Hestia and Flora had made it their mission to celebrate in a big way. They organized a ridiculously extravagant private banquet, filling his room with expensive gifts (paid for with my money), dark relics, and displays of affection that only they could come up with, making sure their beloved Boyfriend knew exactly how much they adored him.
But amid the celebrations and domestic life, the wheels of Gauntcorp kept turning. Aurelian had begun meticulously planning the grand gala he would host to introduce the Arcane Patrons to the world. Albus Dumbledore, keeping his word with terrifying efficiency, had already sent him a letter confirming the exact date the event should take place. The headmaster had secured the attendance of a large portion of the Wizengamot, members of the International Confederation, journalists, and foreign colleagues.
As he went through the guest list, Aurelian couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore had managed to use his immense influence to convince any other Archmage to attend. If he could get someone of that caliber to validate the creation he and Argus Filch had perfected, the magical revolution would be unstoppable; nothing could halt it.
Letting those memories fade slowly, Aurelian returned to the present.
Right now, he was lying on his bed, bathed in the soft, warm morning light filtering through the curtains.
Beside him—or rather, on top of him—were Hestia and Flora. The girls slept soundly, completely naked, covered only by black silk sheets. Their breathing was soft and calm. Their faces were pressed against his chest, their arms and legs tangled around his torso, clinging to him even in their dreams.
Aurelian looked down at them, and a tender smile spread across his lips. He raised both hands and began to gently stroke their heads, running his fingers through the girls' silky dark hair.
Feeling his touch, Hestia and Flora let out a small sigh of contentment in their sleep and hugged him even tighter, pressing their bodies against his without waking up.
Aurelian stopped smiling and slowly turned his head to look at the ornate ceiling of his room, his expression turning utterly serious.
The peace of that morning was only a temporary illusion. From now on, everything on the political chessboard of Great Britain would begin to shift. His father would begin his infiltration of the Ministry, Dumbledore would mobilize the Order of the Phoenix, and Grindelwald... who knows what Grindelwald was up to.
If he wanted to protect everything he had built in this life, he had to solve his biggest problem in the short term. He had to figure out how to become an Archmage.
Aurelian clenched his jaw. He possessed colossal reserves of magic, unparalleled theoretical knowledge, and an almost absolute mastery of the Parsel tongue and the Arcane Patterns. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he meditated and strained his magical circuits, he couldn't break through that invisible wall. The barrier separating a Invoker from an Archmage slipped through his fingers, taunting him right in his face. What was he missing? Some epiphany? A sacrifice? An even deeper understanding of the laws of the universe? What?
Aurelian let out a long sigh, feeling the slight movement of his chest rock the girls who were still asleep.
He looked down again to observe the peaceful, beautiful faces of his fiancées resting upon him. His anxiety for power dissipated a little in the warmth of their bodies.
"I'll figure it out later," Aurelian thought, closing his eyes and letting himself be enveloped by the tranquility of that morning. He still had time, he had the resources, and above all, he had the will to achieve it.
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