Written for HPFC Snakes and Ladders ChallengeSusan Bones


Remembering Her

At first, she had thought it was a cruel joke. Someone had to be pulling her leg, she was certain of it. Her Aunt Amelia was too strong, too good a witch to be taken down. It must have been a mistake. But as her mother spoke the regrettable truth that night in the kitchen, Susan was hit with the horrid, tragic, realisation – that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had taken yet another member of her family.

She hadn't left her room in three days. Her mother had tried to coax her out gently, bribing her with treats and sweets, but Susan wouldn't move. Thick tears streamed down her face and she was too distraught to wipe them away as she stared hopelessly out of her bedroom window. Her entire body felt empty; her breathing heavy and strained. Her fingers played nervously with the ends of her long, red hair as she recalled that terrible evening when she became aware of the news.

"Susan, dear," Mrs Bones had began softly, approaching her daughter with caution and placing a pale hand on her shoulder. "I have some... terrible news."

"What is it, mother?" Susan had asked, regarding her mother with concern as tears spilled out of deep brown eyes and trailed down her rosy cheek.

Mrs Bones took a deep breath and had reached out to cup Susan's cheek gently. "It's your aunt Amelia. She's been..." her body shook as a broken sob escaped her and she desperately tried to compose herself. "You-Know-Who came to her house last night and, well..." her voice trailed off and Susan gripped Mrs Bones' shoulders desperately, needing to hear her mother deny what had instantly come to her mind.

"What, mother? What happened?" she demanded.

Another sob rattled Mrs Bones and she cast her eyes away. "She was murdered," she muttered softly, her voice barely audible.

That was when Susan's world came to an abrupt halt.

Why? The question whirled around her conscience, taunting her, haunting her. She drew up her knees and hugged them close to her chest, resting her chin on them. Why her aunt? Why her family? They had already lost Uncle Edgar sixteen years ago, as well as Aunt Patricia, Caroline, Robert and Michael. Why did Aunt Amelia deserve the same fate? It suddenly occurred to Susan that life was horribly unfair, and even those with pure hearts could not escape it.

Amelia had certainly had a pure heart. Of course, her uncle, his wife and their children had been killed before Susan was old enough to remember them. Yet, even if she had, Amelia would have been her favourite. She was firm and a powerful woman, but underneath her professionalism, was a caring, maternal figure who enjoyed reading stories to Susan before she went to bed. More tears streamed down Susan's face as she remembered those cold winter's nights when her parents went out with friends. Amelia often looked after her and the fun they had together brought a sad, watery smile to Susan's lips.

"Look, auntie! We match!" announced a four-year-old Susan proudly. Her aunt's tinkling laughter made her squeal with delight as she handed Amelia a mirror to admire her handiwork.

"It's lovely, Susie," Amelia praised, tugging lightly on one messy pigtail pinned up with sparkly clips.

Susan giggled delightedly and hugged her aunt around her neck. "Now we are the same!" she trilled, pointing to her own, red pigtails.

Amelia laughed and pulled Susan into her lap. "Now, which story do you want to read tonight?"

"Hmm," Susan stuck out her bottom lip in thought and tapped her rosy cheek with one, chubby finger. "The Tale of the Three Brothers," she decided after a moment.

"Are you sure?" Amelia asked, raising her eyebrows at her young niece.

Susan nodded enthusiastically and bounced up and down in Amelia's lap. "Yes, auntie."

With a chuckled, Amelia reached over and retrieved the Tales of Beedle the Bard, flicking through the pages until she came across the chosen story. Susan peeked over the edge of the book curiously and followed the words with her finger as her aunt began to read the tale.

"Once there were three brothers..."

The Tale of the Three Brothers had long been Susan's favourite bedtime story. Aunt Amelia must have read it more than a thousand times and yet she never grew tired of telling the tale. Susan loved everything about the story; particularly the choice between the wand, the stone and the cloak. Even when she was younger, in true Hufflepuff spirit, she had known that the only right choice to make was the cloak. The wand brought too much violence and the stone violated everything about the cycle of life.

Of course, after Amelia Bones' death, her entire view on the matter had completely changed. If only she had the stone, she could talk to her aunt about her about the storm that was currently brewing around them, about the decisions she would have to make for her future. Her aunt was the only person Susan ever talked to about the war; her mother refused to even mention it as it brought back memories of losing her husband. Susan had barely known him before he was murdered along with her uncle, but Mrs Bones had never fully recovered from his death.

As she gazed out at the slumbering street below her, she flicked her eyes to the sky. Somewhere, in her heart, Susan knew that her most beloved aunt was watching over her. It gave Susan a tiny sliver of hope; a promise that she could get through this and survive this war, for her family's sake. Susan touched her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes, shooting a sweet, farewell message to her aunt, before twisting her long, red hair into a braid and climbing into her bed. Before she turned out her lamp, she kissed the portrait of her and Amelia at one Christmas almost twelve years ago and set it gently back on the bedside table.

"Goodbye, auntie," she whispered softly. "I'll miss you."


A/N: Again, another difficult character to portray. I hope you enjoyed it! xx