Chapter Text
It was late on a foggy November night in 1981, when Julia D'Aumont was walking back to her house after a meeting with Remus Lupin, her brother's closest living friend apart from the one that betrayed him and his family. The London streets were damp from the evening's rain, and an unsettling chill hung in the air. She had taken a trip to some shops to clear her mind and was making her way through the misty alleyway near their townhouse, a short walk from Diagon Alley. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the cobblestones, and she wrapped her light beige coat tighter around her slender frame, her heart heavy with the very recent news of her brother James and his wife Lily’s tragic deaths. She hadn’t yet processed the weight of it - how could she? Her beloved brother, her only family left, gone in a flash.
Her thoughts consumed her, and she almost didn’t see it at first. A small basket, perched in the shadow of a flickering street lamp, surrounded by a few scattered autumn leaves. The dim light barely illuminated the bundle inside, but Julia’s instincts told her something was not right. She hurried over, her heart pounding in her chest.
When she lifted the lid of the basket, she gasped.
A baby—no older than a year, perhaps younger—was nestled inside, wrapped in a warm, starry blanket. His soft hair, dark and slightly curly, framed a cherubic face. Julia’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, all the world seemed to fade away. His eyes, despite the sleepiness clouding them, held a quiet wisdom. There was something about this child that felt like fate.
She saw the letter tucked into the blanket, a simple note that read: “Take care of the child from the stars.”
A strange sensation filled Julia’s chest—an odd mix of warmth and wonder, as if this child had always been meant to be hers.
“Who are you?” she whispered, running a gentle hand over the boy's soft skin. The child stirred, blinking his eyes open, gazing up at her with an almost knowing expression. It felt as if he had always known her.
Tears welled in Julia’s eyes as she carefully scooped him into her arms, pressing him close to her heart. There was no question in her mind. This child was a gift. A gift she had longed for, more than anything. And perhaps, just perhaps, he was sent to heal the hurt in her heart.
Once inside the townhouse, Julia called for Theodore. Her voice was shaky with emotion, but there was no mistaking the joy in her tone. She could hardly contain her excitement. When Theodore walked into the room, his sharp gaze landed on the basket in her arms. His reaction was a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
“What is this?” he asked, eyes wide.
Julia opened the basket and showed the boy to her husband, her expression full of wonder. “I found him, Theo. I found him in the streets - he was all alone, with nothing but a letter and the basket.”
Theodore took a slow breath, looking at the tiny child who was now in his wife’s arms. There was something about the boy that seemed special. He felt it in his blood. It was as though fate had delivered him into their hands.
“Well, we should take him to the Ministry,” Theodore said, after a moment. “They’ll be able to identify him, perhaps trace his family.”
At the Ministry, after an intense search, countless questions and spells being cast, it was confirmed that the child had no known relatives, nor any official records. However, the magical scans revealed something curious: the boy was a pureblood wizard.
Julia and Theodore exchanged looks. There were no clear answers, no explanations. They couldn’t be sure who this child’s parents were, but they had likely been killed in the freshly ended war. Julia really felt as if her late brother had sent her the child she had always wanted.
*
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*
Weeks passed, and the paperwork for the child’s adoption was finally processed. Julia and Theodore named him Antares Astro D’Aumont. The names, chosen in honor of the brightest star of the constellation he was found under, Scorpio, and Astro meaning one of the stars, referencing the note that was left with the little boy. After all, it felt like he had come from the heavens above.
In the days following their adoption of Antares, Julia’s grief over James and Lily’s deaths became more pronounced. She would often find herself standing in the garden, staring at the empty space where they had only a few months earlier sat down for tea, her heart aching with the loss.
One evening, after the funeral, Julia couldn’t contain her emotions as she had previously that day been denied the right to take in her nephew Harry. She sat on the floor of Antares’s room, the child asleep in his crib, surrounded by the soft glow of the starry night spell she had cast for him. The stars twinkled overhead, their light reflecting off the walls. She whispered to him as she held him close, “You’re a gift, Antares. A gift sent to us by James... I know it. You’ll never know how much you mean to us.”
As the months passed, Antares grew, and his parents showered him with love and the finest of everything. They doted on him, ensuring that he never lacked for anything. They took trips to Diagon Alley, spending hours picking out the finest clothes for their son, admiring the rich fabrics and intricate designs. Julia and Theodore’s hearts swelled with pride every time they saw him dressed in a fine robe or a new pair of shoes.
One particular day, in Diagon Alley, Julia and Theodore took him to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. Julia had already decided on the colors: deep purples, blues, and golds that would reflect the stars. As Antares sat in his mother’s arms, he giggled, his tiny hands reaching for a sparkling brooch on the counter.
“It seems he has an eye for fashion,” Theodore remarked with a smile, watching as Antares clutched the brooch, his face alight with curiosity.
The trip ended with a few more robes and a set of matching gloves, and when they returned home, Julia immediately began decorating Antares’s room, determined to make it as magical as possible.
“Scoprio, Theo,” she said, arranging glowing constellations on the ceiling, “this room should remind him of the day he was found under the starry night sky. He is our star.”
As Antares grew older, Julia and Theodore began to teach him the customs of their society—the etiquette of pureblood families, the importance of lineage, and the magic that flowed through their veins. They started with the basics, instilling in him the lessons of respect, decorum, and the expectations placed upon him. They took him on family outings to various wizarding events, where Antares was exposed to the grandeur of their world.
Despite the formal teachings, Julia’s favorite moments were the quiet times when it was just the three of them. She would sit with Antares on her lap, reading him stories about magical creatures, and Theodore would often join in, recounting tales of wizarding history.
One evening, as they sat by the fire, Antares curiously asked, “Mum, where did I come from? Who were my real parents?”
Julia paused, her heart skipping a beat. She exchanged a look with Theodore, but neither of them could find the right words. Finally, Julia said softly, “You were sent to us, sweetheart. You are our son, and you will always be our son. That’s all that matters.”
Antares smiled, a soft smile that brightened his entire face, and snuggled closer to his mother. “I’m happy you found me,” he murmured, his tiny voice filled with innocence.
And Julia’s heart swelled. She couldn’t imagine life without him. This was her family now. And she would protect them, love them, for as long as she lived.
As the years went by, Antares continued to flourish in his family’s care. He excelled in his studies, always eager to learn more about magic, and the D'Aumonts continued to raise him with the utmost love and devotion. They took him to the best tutors, taught him the finer points of pureblood society, and ensured that his education was second to none.
But despite their best efforts, there was always the quiet knowledge that there was something special about their son—something that could never truly be explained. Antares might never know the full story of his origins, but the D’Aumonts were content. They had their son, the child from the stars.
It was one warm summer morning, when Antares had just turned eleven, that he received a letter.
A letter that of course changes every young witches and wizards lives.
The envelope, sealed with a deep green wax emblem, was addressed in green ink, the writing elegant and precise:
"Antares Astro D'Aumont.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Julia held the letter in her hands for a moment, staring at it in a fond way. “Theo,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s here.”
Theodore stepped into the room, eyes widening when he saw the letter. “It’s time,” he said softly. And in that moment, the world seemed to shift. Antares was no longer just their son - he was truly becoming a young wizard, and his journey was about to begin.
Julia carefully opened the letter, her heart racing. As she read aloud the words that would change their lives forever, the future of Antares Astro D'Aumont - and their family - had arrived.