"AAAAAGGHHHHH!"
A woman yelled in pain. It was some of the worst pain she'd ever felt. She was lying in her bathtub, breathing quickly. She rested a hand on her expanded stomach and pushed again; this baby was coming out and she wasn't going to stop pushing. Her lover had brought her home and then went back to continue the fight.
It wasn't even her they were after, it was her unborn child, "AAAAAGGHHHHH!" She pushed again, and pretty soon, her baby was out; her new baby boy. She struggled for her wand and used Diffindo to cut the umbilical cord when she had it. She dropped her wand in the tub beside her and she began crying along with her son, she held him to her chest and tried to calm him, "Mommy's here, it's okay," she struggled to stand up, but finally did and wrapped her son up in a towel. She couldn't keep him, not with that group after him. Her lover, the boy's father, went to stall them to give her long enough to birth him and hopefully find a home for him.
She walked him to the kitchen, set him down on the table, and grabbed a pen and paper:
" T_ t_e _er_on wh_ r_a_s t_i_, t_e ba_y _oy is _a_ed ," she looked over at him and quickly thought up a name, " _er_m_ah, hi_ la_t _am_ d__s no_ _a_t_r. _h_ _n_y th__g I c_n as_ o_ y_u i_ t_ pl_a_e, l__k _ft_r hi_ a__ l_v_ h_m i_ __e w_y I ca_'t. _he_e ar_ _en wh_ w_ul_ wi_h _a_m o_ h__, a_ _e_l _s my__l_, s_ pu_ti_g hi_ wi__ a dif__re_t f__i_y is _y ___y o__i_n. Pl__se ra_s_ hi_ as th_u_h he w_s y_u_s? Yo_'r_ h_s o_ly H_p_. "
She dropped the pen and stuffed the paper in the towel he was bundled up in. Her tears kept flowing from her eyes as her baby continued to cry. She didn't have long to leave and find him somewhere he could live. She picked up her child and Apparated somewhere in a park. Since it was night time, there was no one around to see or hear her. She staggered around in the cold air and damp grass; her arms were cold and her feet were wet. It was the tail-end of March, Spring had already hit, but the weather was defiant, and maintained the winter feel in the post-winter season.
Her teeth chattered against her will and she found a home after ten minutes of walking. She got up to the porch and fell to her knees, scraping them against the wooden steps. She set her baby down on the porch, just in front of the door and knocked three times. She walked off the porch and before the door could open to reveal herself there, she disapparated back to her home.
Upon arrival, she was met with her lover, sitting against the wall, he was in bad shape. He had cuts and lacerations and gashes all over his face, arms, shoulders, and chest. His right foot was missing, but his blue eyes still had some life in them, "H_h... _he_'re w_it_n_ fo_ _ou... i_'_ a_ a_b__h... d-d_n't... d_n'_ _o ba_k..." he managed to get out.
"I ha_e to... i_ I do_'t tr_ _nd s__p t_e_ _e_e __d no_..." she trailed off, looking down at the floor, "Je_e_ia_."
"_h_t?"
"I _am_d hi_ _e_em_ah," she said with tears falling down her face.
"Je_e_ia_... is _e s_f_?" He asked her.
"Y_s... h_ sh_u_d _e _af_ n_w, T_m..." she said to him.
"_oo_... C_-C_r__tin_... y-y_u c_n'_ _o b-b_c_ t_er_..." he struggled to stand up, so she helped him. He was leaning against the wall, looking at her. Her brown hair was always beautiful, even now, "I'_... _'m _o_ng b__k..."
"T_m, yo_ c_n'_-"
"_o... y_u c__'t-"
"I h__e t_..." she trailed off again.
"T__n... le_'s do it t_ge_he_," he held out his hand for her and she grasped it. She nodded and they both Apparated back to the Meadow they had been attacked in. Sure enough, there was an ambush waiting on them, but they immediately put up a Protego Diabolica around them to protect themselves.
"S_, yo_'v_ co_e __ck," a man's voice said, "I h_n_st_y _id_'t _hi_k yo_ wo__d."
"Go _o he_l," Christina said as calmly as she could manage.
"Y_u fi_s_. E_j_y t_e _id_," the man smirked from beyond the flames. "Yo_ _er_ pr_gn_n_ whe_ _ou l_f_ _er_ a wh__e a_o, _h_re is y_u_ _hi_d!?" He demanded of her.
"_e_d... st_llb_i_th..." she tried to play it off as her son being dead.
"Yo_ l_e. T_e _ro_he_y is ve_y cl_a_, he _o_ld n_t s__ply di_ o_ a mi_c__ria_e," he didn't believe her.
"_t's t_e t__th," tears flowed from her eyes again, her anger was rising. She knew the Prophecy very well.
'The Brotherhood of Grim grows more powerful with each passing day... They appear unstoppable, but they do not know of the child that is not yet born of this world... The Child that will bring about their downfall as he grows into a man... The Brotherhood of Grim will be outmatched and their reign of terror will cease... The Boy, Merlin's True Heir, will bring about Prosperity and Salvation to us all...'
Those were the words she'd heard almost a month ago from Jade C. Primrose, a supposed Seer, which she hadn't believed, but when the Brotherhood of Grim caught wind of it, and began hunting the then Six Months Pregnant Christina, she and Tim had been on the run. "Yo_'_l n__er fi_d hi_, Jo__ph M_ll_, _o_'_l __ve_ f_n_ _i_!"
"_y d_a_, _e w_n'_ _a_e _o," the man said and they all aimed their wands at the two of them, "N__, I m_s_ as_ t__t yo_ _ie."
An untimed wave of Avada Kedavra was sent into the middle of the Protection Spell, some of them missing and killing their own, but Christina Ambrose and Tim Washington were both murdered that night. Joseph Mills and his Brotherhood approached the two dead bodies, "Pa__et_c," he said, and they all began to laugh, but he stopped when he noticed something peculiar. The body of Christina Ambrose was glowing dimly, and began to brighten, quickly. He knew exactly what was about to happen. He apparated away, just as her body exploded in a Magical Boom, killing all of his Brothers and Sisters he had in the Brotherhood. She was an Ambrose, after all, which was why they attacked her at her weakest; childbirth.
It took him far too long to get trustworthy people in his Brotherhood. Now he would have to do so again. One man couldn't try tracking down an infant. He cursed the name Ambrose as he went about his new task.
Christina's ethereal form showed up at her son's new home. Before she passed on, she had to see him one more time. She saw him with a woman, a young looking woman who was cradling Jack in her arms. Christina smiled and began to cry, knowing that she couldn't hold her baby one more time. She closed her eyes and dissipated from this world.
*******
"AAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHH!" Jack yelled out as he woke up in the middle of the night in a Cold Sweat. He was breathing erratically and looking around in panic. He reached under his pillow and drew his wand, aiming it around.
"Jack?" He heard from outside the room, "Jack, are you alright?"
With his wand still pointing at the door, he walked over to it and carefully opened, before flinging it open, and aiming his wand around the room. All he saw was the same room he always saw when leaving his bedroom, filled with an Alchemy Set, books lining the bookshelves against the walls, and the giant portrait of Merlin, looking at him with worry. He walked into the room, only in his boxers, and sat down in the chair near the fireplace, which was still burning, "Sorry... Merlin..."
"The same nightmare?" Merlin asked him.
"Yeah... it's almost the end of July... July Third was when it started, and I keep having it, and each time I do... it gets fuzzier and fuzzier... I can't hardly make out the words anymore..."
"Well, my boy, I wish there was something I could do. I hope you're able to get back to sleep," Merlin said, falling back asleep himself.
He sat there, feeling the warmth of the fire near him. He looked down at his arms, his chest and stomach, his legs, the burn scar on his upper back that he almost couldn't get to, all the scars there were that he couldn't heal completely away. He read through the entire book Hermione got for him, but there was no spell listed for Healing wounds to prevent scarring. It was only the Beginner's Book, after all.
The entire month of July he dedicated to his Spell Practice and Muscle Building. He knew it took longer than just a month for results to appear, but since he was already strong, all it was doing was just toning his arms and chest more. The way he trained was making a surface reflective, firing any spell at it, and quickly deflecting it with Protego . Sometimes the spell he fired was too strong and broke through his shield, and other times he fired the spell so quickly, he couldn't recover fast enough to block the spell. He was training his mind as well in doing so, Disciplining himself to not shy away from oncoming spells. When he practiced the day before, he didn't even flinch or acknowledge that a Diffindo spell had hit him; when he had looked down, he saw blood pouring down his arm and dripping onto the floor. A quick Scourgify removed the blood and he bandaged up his arm after sealing the wound.
He leaned back into the chair and thought of Hermione, sitting on his lap, currently, running circles on his chest; his love for the Bushy Haired Know-it-All only grew over the month of July. His desire to feel her against him was stronger than it ever was.
He closed his eye and tried to calm down before he stood up. Thinking of Hermione in that way got him more excited than it really should have. He tried to not think of his best friend in that way, but with how tired he was lately, he wasn't able to control his desires.
When he finally felt that he was calm, he stood up and went into his bathroom. He pointed his wand at the two candles and lit them, looking at himself in the mirror. He had dark circles under his eyelids, and even though his physique was better, he looked a little thinner than he usually did. Not as thin as Harry always did by any means, but for himself he was quite thin. He ran some water and splashed it onto his face.
He looked up and saw an eyeless, soulless, grotesque abomination in the mirror, causing him to fall backwards. He stood up and looked at his reflection again, seeing his usual, one-eyed self. His hand had balled into a fist and he punched the mirror out of anger, roaring as he did. He pulled his fist back and muttered a Reparo on the Mirror. He looked at his fist and it wasn't bleeding but did hurt a bit. He aimed his wand at his fist and said, " Lenire ." It was a Soothing Spell that soothed the pain of minor injuries.
He sighed and dried his face off, going back to bed to try and sleep. The only thing he ever could remember from his dream was some kind of Prophecy that he was apparently a part of. It's words flashed in his head one more time, 'Who is the Brotherhood of Grim, anyway? And that Prophecy - does it conflict with what Trelawney and Bane said? Who's right and who's wrong?' He thought to himself before he fell back asleep.
*******
The month of August approached quickly and Hermione had written him a letter telling him that she had just gotten to the Burrow on the Third of August, the place the Weasley's lived, and she hoped he would be able to make it before the World Cup. As he read the mention of it, he subconsciously glanced at the Ticket he had bought. Hermione never told him to buy her one, so he figured Mr. Weasley was able to get her a ticket, he remembered Ron saying his dad could usually get them from work.
He still had something he was working on at the Tower, and she also mentioned the arrival of Harry at the Burrow on the Fourth. Mrs. Weasley had a room prepared for him, in the event he chose to stay there at all over the summer. He stood up from the desk he was at to read the letter and walked over to the untouched Alchemy Station; even with Merlin's written instructions on how to use it, he had no idea what to do. The instructions were under the assumption the user was at least a Novice in Alchemical Equipment usage.
"I might have to wait until Sixth Year when Alchemy is offered... assuming enough people take the class," he sighed, "No, I'm learning Alchemy in Sixth Year, whether that's the case or not! Even if I'm the only one, I'm taking the class."
His mind was made up, but he saw no reason to bring that up until the end of Fifth Year. For now, he wrote a reply letter to Hermione, telling her he'd be at the Burrow tomorrow morning at Seven o'clock in the morning.
He then set his sights on Pigwidgeon, the Owl Sirius had given to Ron. In the Letter, Hermione had name dropped the Owl as Pigwidgeon, and revealed that Ginny was actually the one who suggested it. Apparently he heard it and accepted it as his new name, and only responds to that or Pig.
The Owl was currently flying circles near the ceiling of the room, similar to how Chloe had last year when she and Crookshanks had both first attempted a team capture of Scabbers, aka, Peter Pettigrew. If he could, he'd go back to then and let them do it, but he can't.
"Pig!" His voice boomed, scaring the tiny, grayish Owl, causing him to fly down and perch on his outstretched arm, "You ready to take this back to the Burrow? It goes straight to Hermione, just so you know, she has Bushy Brown Hair, okay?" Pig nodded, and accepted the letter into his beak, flying out of the window and into the distance.
He looked over at his Raven and she was staring out of the window Pigwideon had just flown through. She hated the Grayish Owl, much like Hedwig did, but she would just have to deal with it. She began to Preen her feathers, trying her best to ignore him.
He looked down and saw his scarred arms. He wouldn't be able to hide those from Hermione, or anyone really, but as long as those were all anyone saw, it'd be fine. He then realized he'd have to change either in front of his male dorm mates, or behind his curtains; he'd decide at Hogwarts come September 1st.
For now, he got to work on trying to work on increasing his output of Magical Power with the Protego spell against powerful offensive spells. If he could block even those with a simple Protego , he would have little to worry about. That's what he did for basically the remainder of the day.
He had the same nightmare again that night and began to wonder if staying with the Weasley's and Hermione was really such a good idea. Then again, he could always cast Silencio on the door and be safe until morning. That's probably what he'd do; when he awoke the following morning, he grabbed some Floo Powder, stepped into his Fireplace, "I've got your cage with me, Chloe, meet me at the Burrow okay?" He asked his Bird and she flew off immediately.
"Be safe, my boy, and have fun at the World Cup," Merlin said above him from out of sight.
"I'm sure I will. If you need to tell me something important, you're more than welcome to see if there are any portraits there and then tell me in private, okay?"
"Sure thing, now have fun," Merlin then fell silent.
Jack raised his fist with the Powder, his watch having just Seven on the dot, and tossed the Powder down, "The Burrow!" He was engulfed in flame as he was transported across the country.