Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling
Warning: This chapter contains a scene depicting coarse language and abuse involving a child.
In Medias Res
Chapter One
Two hours and the shouting still hadn't lessened.
The obscenities and insults were flying from all directions and nothing seemed off-limits. There were taunts about poor sexual performance, accusations of promiscuity, blaming and finger-pointing, and the very serious threat of desertion.
It was perhaps the biggest commotion the Mills' household had ever erupted into.
The exchange between the mother and father became so heated that the middle Mills child eavesdropped from the other side of the kitchen door with a phone in hand and ready to dial the police. So far, things seemed to remain on the verbal side but she knew it would only be a matter of time.
While one of her hands clutched the white phone and its base, her other was hidden in her jacket pocket, worrying a small, smooth painted stone. Expressionless and vacant, no slur and no allegation fazed her. She had heard them all before.
"Shut your filthy mouth, you stupid whore!"
Is that the best you can do?
"I'm only a whore because you couldn't make me cum if you had Jimi Hendrix's dick!"
Bor-ring.
"That's not what your cousin would say!"
Old news.
"Fuck you! And your family and your friends!" And for the finisher. "Oh that's right, I ALREADY DID!"
"Cunt, only a tramp like you would be so proud of lacking the ability to keep her legs closed for one second!"
Did I finish my homework?
"I sure know how to keep them closed around you!" I think I did. "But then again, I only fuck guys who are bigger than three inches!"
"And that would fucking explain Ellie, wouldn't it?!"
The girl's blank stare instantly dropped into bewilderment. Forgetting the phone and stone, she shifted herself closer to the door to better hear the ensuing fight.
"What would explain Ellie?" Her mother's voice had quieted significantly; no longer was she shrieking at the top of her lungs.
Yeah, what would explain Ellie?
"Are you blind?" The man sounded genuinely dumbfounded.
"I dont—"
"LOOK AT HER."
Ellie jumped at his sudden outburst and her hand landed on the phone. She drew it to her chest, armed and ready. This was a turn her parents had never taken before.
"What about her, Anthony?!"
With a scathing tone he repeated, "Look. At. Her."
Sitting just outside the door, the girl in question turned her attention to a group of pictures, framed and lining the wall beside her. They were family portraits. Each Mills member had their own single and then one with just the parents, then just the sisters, and then finally the family as a whole. Ellie stood out in each one from her rather light family, with her dark hair and dark eyes, the proverbial black sheep.
Mrs. Mills again expressed her lack of understanding.
"She isn't mine, Annie. Fess up. I'm fucking tired of your lies!"
"Anthony, please—"
"Whose is she?" he demanded harshly. "Joe's? Hmm? Mark's? Robert?"
Mrs. Mills attempted to assure his true paternity but he wouldn't have it.
"No more, Annie! I refuse to support a child that isn't mine. Rosie and Ashley, yes, because they are mine. But not one that came out of your whoring around with entire town!"
"She's yours!" the woman shrieked desperately.
"Goddammit, Annie!"
There was a crash and Ellie could hear her mother crying. She decidedly picked the phone up off the receiver. If things were about to escalate, she wanted the cops to at least be on their way.
"I can't fucking look at the mistake born out of your infidelity any more!"
A resounding slap and Ellie's finger froze over the number pad.
"Our daughter was not a mistake, Anthony."
The breaking point could be heard from beyond the grave. Ellie held her breath in anticipation.
"You fucking bitch."
Ellie's mother cried violently as there was another crash.
"Every time I see her, I only see you fucking some other guy."
All of a sudden, Ellie had the phone up to her ear and was counting each ring. Her other hand found the stone in her pocket and with eyes closed, she mouthed an old childhood mantra over and over.
"Are you thirsty? Hungry?"
The small child looked up from where she sat on the sofa, her dark eyes finding those of the social worker who had just entered the small room. The young girl appeared tired and ragged, still dressed in her sleepwear. An angry bruise colored her cheek and a small cut split her bottom lip.
"Ellie, darling," the woman addressed again. "If you need anything, just let me know. All right, sweetie?"
Ellie nodded quietly as she watched the woman take her place in a padded chair facing her.
She smiled at the girl. "Do your parents argue like this often?"
Shrugging, Ellie answered, "Every now and then."
"But if you had to put a number on it," the woman pressed gently.
Ellie looked off to her left in thought. "At least three times a week."
The woman was slightly taken aback. "And do you receive the brunt of these disputes?"
Another shrug. "Sometimes. Ashley is always out with friends or working and Rosie gets scared and hides under her bed. She's still too young to understand."
"How old are you, Ellie?"
"Eight."
The woman lightly pointed out, "Most would say that you're still too young."
The girl shrugged for a third time. "There's no such thing as 'too young'."
Eyebrows knitting in confusion, the woman jumped, "But you just said that your sister, Rosie, was—"
"Are we finished here?" Ellie interrupted flatly.
"Do you want to be finished here?"
Ellie briefly wondered who this woman was. She spoke more like a therapist than a social worker.
"Yes."
"I'm truly sorry about that, Ellie. But we have to figure out what to do—"
"I'm tired, I have school in five hours, and my face hurts," the girl again interrupted. "No offense, ma'am, but you might as well release me. You'll see me in another couple of months and I'll play your damaged, abused child then."
The woman had to admit that the girl impressed her. That, or unsettled her. In all seriousness, what eight-year-old child could speak about her abuse so dismissively? It was a tragic sight. A clearly bright girl having to endure such hardship at the hand of those who were supposed to care and provide for her. The woman didn't see a child, but a shadow of one.
"Do you believe in magic, Ellie?" the woman asked out of the blue.
The random question certainly elicited the most noticeable response. Ellie looked at the woman, baffled and slightly unamused.
"What?"
"Magic," the woman repeated. "Do you believe in it?"
The girl turned up her nose at such a silly, childish notion and wondered what could possibly lead the social worker to ask something so irrelevant. She had just been slapped around by her father and the social worker was more concerned with Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy.
"No." The idea was ridiculous, beneath her. Her six-year-old sister might believe in that rubbish but not her.
"Well, I think you should."
Now, Ellie looked at the woman as ridiculous.
She laughed at the girl's expression. "Hear me out, will you?" The social worker reached into her purse and drew out a small, bright blue stone and caressed it gently. "I think this will come in handy for you. Who knows, it might even save your life one day."
"What is it?" She would at least humor the woman.
"Here," the woman handed the stone to Ellie. "You take it."
Looking at it closer, Ellie could see little gold stars dotting the blue paint. It was smooth and cold and surprisingly comforting.
"Okay. What is it?" she asked again.
"It's a wishing stone," the social worker explained to her. "If you wish hard enough, it will come true."
"I wish I had someone else's life," the girl replied with a snort and a small roll of her eyes.
The woman smiled. "I know. And maybe one day you will."
"I wish I had someone else's life. I wish I had someone else's life. I wish I had someone else' life."
Now, the blue had dulled and the stars had faded into slight specks from constant handling over a volatile nine years.
"I wish I had someone else's life. I wish I had someone else's life. I wish I had someone else' life."
Ellie's prayers were answered when she heard the sound of a man's voice on the other end answer and ask what her emergency was. She almost forgot why she called and had to reign in her gut-reaction to reply with "I wish I had someone else's life." The police weren't genies.
A rather loud scream and crash sounded from the kitchen and the phone slipped out of Ellie's fingers, clashing to the wooden floor. She hurriedly picked it back up when the door was wrenched open and she looked up into the raging eyes of the man she had always called her father.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Ellie felt defenseless sitting on the floor. She blurted out their house address before the man could tear it from her hands and, with a violent pull, rip the line from the wall.
"I SAID, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
After disposing of the phone and its cords, he grabbed Ellie by the arms and hoisted her up to her feet in one strong motion.
"Nothing!" she lied.
"A fucking liar! Like mother, like daughter!" He shook her aggressively. "WHAT. WERE. YOU. DOING."
"Stop it! Let me go!" Ellie attempted to push her father away but instead of backing up, the back of his hand met the side of her face with a violent smack.
Flying to the floor, Ellie recovered and dashed down the hall for her bedroom.
"Get back here, you little bitch!" the man shouted after her.
On a quick second thought, Ellie decided against hiding in the room she shared with her younger sister. Rosie would more than likely be hidden under her bed but Ellie didn't want to bring the fight to her. She didn't want her baby sister to witness the abuse. She turned instead for the bathroom.
The slammed shut and the lock slid into place. Ellie flung back the shower curtain and then slid it back in place, making sure to knock over a shampoo bottle or two in the process, hoping that her father would hear the noise. She then hid in the pantry closet and held her breath. The wishing stone was gripped tightly in her hands like a lifeline and the childhood wish made its way silently past her lips with a fervor like never before.
The door didn't stand a chance against her father's muscular build. It's hinges failed and he stumbled in, looking around frantically. The shower curtain was yanked back and he was met with an empty tub.
Ellie froze, her eyes wide with fear as she listened to him breathing heavily.
"Come on, Ellie."
Silence.
Ellie's muscles were beginning to complain about the cramped space but she didn't dare move. They could relax when this crazy man was handcuffed in the back of a police car or she was dead. Whichever came first.
I wish I had someone else's life.
A creak of the floor and a thud of his footstep.
Everything was still.
"Found ya!"
The instant the pantry door so much as opened a crack to reveal the wild look of a desperate and broken man out for blood, Ellie's eyes snapped closed and she screamed, "I WISH I HAD SOMONE ELSE'S LIFE."
And when her dark eyes opened, she became thoroughly bewildered.
No longer was she surrounded by red towels or stocks of toiletries, she wasn't even sitting or crouching.
Instead, she opened her eyes and found herself lying in a bed resembling one that would be found in a hospital. White curtains were pulled around her so she couldn't see the room. Had her father hit her so hard that it knocked her out and now she was in a hospital room?
Her face did hurt. . .
"She's doing fine, dears."
Voices! There were voices just outside the drawn curtain!
Ellie focused all of her attention on the following exchange. Who were the "dears"? Rosie and Ashley?
"How much longer will she be out?"
It was a male's voice. Definitely not Rosie or Ashley. Ellie couldn't recognise it.
"Not much," the nurse—it had to be the nurse—assured him gently.
"Can we see her?" This one came from a girl. Ellie still couldn't place it.
Who are these people? Where's my family?
"Please, Madam Pomfrey," the boy pleaded.
The nurse relented with a sigh. "All right. But try to be quiet. We shouldn't wake her too early."
Ellie didn't have time to feign sleep before the curtain was pulled back, nor did she want to. She wanted to know who these people were more than she wanted to protect herself.
The boy and girl looked to be around her age and both were dressed in a dull green school uniform. The girl was short with vibrant green eyes and blonde hair too perfectly straight to be natural, only she appeared to be the type of girl to be blessed with too perfect hair. Her concern was clear in her entire demeanor. The boy was tall and slender, a fan of aerobic activity most likely, and had light brown hair that looked perfectly windswept.
These two people couldn't possibly be there to visit her one. She didn't know them because 1) she didn't know them and 2) she didn't know anyone with perfect hair.
"Oh!" the nurse exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise this is!"
"You're awake!" the girl shrieked as they rushed to her side.
The boy reached her first and placed a hand on her forehead, brushing her black hair aside lovingly. Ellie quickly became uncomfortable.
"How you feeling there, Elle?" the boy asked her softly.
Oh. Bloody. Hell. No.
This was wrong. This entire situation was wrong. She didn't know these people and yet they knew her name. Though, they clearly didn't know her well enough to know that she deeply dislike being called Elle. Her name was a grand total of two syllables, pronounced the same as two letters in the alphabet. L. E. It didn't require shortening.
But before she could answer, the nurse asked, "What's that you got in your hands there?"
The stone.
Ellie had completely forgotten about the wishing stone.
It was still clutched tightly in her hands.
The nurse took it away and inspected it curiously. "Hmm," she shrugged. "Must have been a present from one of your first years."
"One of my what?" She really wanted the stone back. But more than that, she wanted her family and wanted to know what happened.
"I'll put it with your things," the nurse said with a smile.
"Thank you?"
"When can she be released?" the girl asked. She was starting to get fidgety.
"Tomorrow, more than likely."
"Tomorrow?" the girl complained.
"Tori, she took a bludger to the head," the boy reminded her. His hand was still placed on Ellie's forehead.
"I know that, Cyrus," the girl, Tori, snapped back.
"A bludger?" Ellie couldn't help blurting out the question. There was already so much to take in with the nurse, first years, Tori, and Cyrus. She had no idea what a bludger was. Was it some sort of slang for a nasty blow?
Cyrus and Tori looked at her, puzzled. "Yes," Cyrus explained. "A bludger. You were hit during our game against Ravenclaw."
"Ravenclaw?"
"Yeah, but don't worry," he rushed to add. "We still beat them."
"Your injury was not in vain," Tori told her with a triumphant smile.
They obviously weren't understanding her confusion and Ellie was plenty confused. She really wanted to see her family now.
"What's Ravenclaw? And where's my family?"
Ellie began sitting up until the nurse rushed over and pressed her back down into her pillow.
"Slow down there, Miss Mills." At least her name was the same. "Head injuries are serious business."
"Madam Pomfrey, what's wrong with her? She doesn't know what Ravenclaw is."
The nurse gave the boy a knowing look. "Just a case of amnesia, most likely."
"Amnesia?" Tori's concern flooded back.
"It should only be short-term. Everything will come back soon," she then turned to Ellie who was still trying connect the random splatter of dots. "Which is why you need to stay in bed at least one more day."
"What's wrong, Ellie? You look like you're in pain." Cyrus carefully sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and caressed her hand soothingly.
"I'm just . . . lost."
It was true. She had no idea what was going on. And so, she told them that. Cyrus and the girl were obviously worried about her memory loss but Madam Pomfrey merely assured them that all would be well.
"In due time," she promised.
"How much time?" Tori pressed.
"One more day. Two, tops."
They continued their exchange, the nurse telling Tori all that was required in regaining memory and how fragile it truly was. But Ellie wasn't paying them any attention. She was staring off into space, processing what little she knew or could properly gather.
Her parents had been arguing, fighting in the kitchen.
About what?
Condoms. Her father had found condoms in her mother's purse. He had a vasectomy shortly after Rosie was born so he didn't need contraceptions. He certainly didn't buy them. So why was she? After confronting the possible infidelity her mother had then smacked him with drug abuse accusations and it only escalated from there.
Before it turned on me.
Ellie wondered what had happened to her mother. She never get the chance to check on her and that last crash didn't sound promising. What about Rosie? Was she still taking refuge under her bed, frightened and alone?
Then she hid in the bathroom and her father found her. Literally the very next thing she knew, she was in some sort of hospital wing with two complete strangers acting like they knew her well.
Especially the Cyrus kid who was still stroking her hand and watching her carefully. Ellie turned her attention to him. He could answer her questions, help her understand. For a reason unknown to Ellie, the guy was concerned about her.
"Can you help me?"
His grip on her hand tightened with a small squeeze.
"Of course," he whispered.
"I don't know what's going on or where I am."
"You'll have to answer questions at a later time," Madam Pomfrey promptly interrupted. "Cyrus, you and Tori have a class to attend."
After a round of goodbyes and promises to return, the two leave. But not before they got the nurse to pledge her release after a maximum of two days.
Except that didn't happen. Ellie remained in the hospital wing for three days and knew she would never remember whatever memories she was supposed to have lost.
In the three days, Cyrus and Tori visited often as well a whole slew of others. Thankfully, Cyrus was always there when a new visitor arrived to act as a sort of monitor. In his solo visits he spent the time telling Ellie as much as possible about the life she couldn't recall. He would also bring her books to read while he was away in class. The headmaster even came by to see her on one occasion. It had been an odd visit. He explained a few things to Ellie as well but he spoke and interacted with her differently than the rest. He didn't approach her as someone with amnesia but almost like a newcomer. He advised her to play along and perhaps the "memories" would follow. A sort of "fake it 'til you make it" routine. It was incredibly stressful.
From what Cyrus and the others had told her, Ellie knew this much:
1. Her name was still Ellie Mills
2. She was a seventh year Slytherin at a school called Hogwarts
3. She was Chaser on her house quidditch team
4. She was actually incredibly bright and a brilliant student
5. She was a witch.
6. With a wand.
7. Magic was real.
It was all too surreal.
But she decided to take the sage wizard's advice and went along with the others. It didn't seem too difficult. Her visitors were nice enough, especially Tori and Cyrus. Tori was apparently her best friend. They had a long history that quite honestly exhausted Ellie just thinking about. She'd never had a best friend.
And Cyrus . . . well, Cyrus was her boyfriend. She'd never had a boyfriend either but in all of her fantasies of one, they would pale in comparison to Cyrus. She didn't enjoy thinking about that either.
Her main concern was the whole living the role thing she was attempting to do. That meant she needed to be a good student. Thankfully, she could easily pull the faux-amnesia card when the situation called for it. Cyrus again helped her with the magic stuff. Ellie was surprised when they handed her what they claimed was her wand. But nothing could come close to the joy she felt when she cast her first spell.
When her release day finally came, Cyrus and Tori were told to come during a class time as Madam Pomfrey felt that the less stimulation, the better. And so they led Ellie through the empty stone hallways of the magical boarding school. Cyrus enjoyed watching her take delight in everything they passed. From the suits of armor to the talking portraits, her dark eyes were alight with excitement and curiosity. It reminded him of being first years and seeing the wonders of the castle for the first time. It's one thing to hear and read about it all from his family but another entirely to experience it firsthand.
And when they encountered their first ghost, he smiled when she took his hand and hid behind his shoulder. The ghost was pleasant, thankfully, and gladly gave her a brief autobiography before floating away for more adventurous pursuits. Ellie appeared more at ease but still didn't let go of his hand. It only made him smile more. Tori continuously passed them a smirking glance. For her, it was like watching them in their pre-dating stages all over again and she found it unbearably adorable.
Rounding a corner in particular, the trio ran into their first spot of trouble.
"Whoa, watch it, Mills!"
"Back off, Black."
Ellie looked at the four boys they had intercepted, specifically the one she almost collided with. Cyrus was quick to jump to her defense but she couldn't be bothered to care. Here she was face-to-face with other students she hadn't seen, or heard about, before. Their uniforms were red and gold, which meant they were part of Gryffindor. From Tori, Ellie knew that Slytherin and Gryffindor did not get along well.
But these were the first people she'd encountered who seemed to not like her. From the looks they were giving her, they really didn't like her. Now she wondered what the Ellie Mills of the here and now was like personality-wise.
"Wanna make me, Vismund?" The kid known as Black stepped forward threateningly before he was pulled back by one of his friends.
"Calm down, Sirius," the friend told him.
"Better listen to your girlfriend Potter, Black." It was Tori's turn to step in.
Ellie's attention couldn't be moved from Sirius. Something about him was drawing her in.
"Don't mind them," Potter spoke to Sirius. "They're still a little touchy about losing the Quidditch Cup last year."
"It won't happen again, trust me." Ellie had never seen Cyrus so intimidating before.
"If that's true, you'd better get your Chaser back in shape. Wasn't her brain knocked around a few days ago?" Potter made sure to talk before Sirius could.
Ellie supposed the other Ellie Mills would be offended by his comment and everyone's slight pause made her think that the other Ellie would even give him a verbal lashing, but neither happened. She simply continued to stare at Black, trying to figure out what it was about him that was so magnetizing.
"What's wrong with you?" He finally asked her, uncomfortable with her unwavering stare.
"I don't know," she answered truthfully.
It dawned on Cyrus this whole exchange probably wasn't conducive to a proper recovery for Ellie. They needed to get her back to the common room so that she could relax.
"Come on, Ellie," He gently took her by the waist. "Let's get you to your dorm."
Allowing Cyrus to guide her away from the Gryffindor group, with Tori trailing behind them, Ellie gave Sirius one last long look before turning away and mulling over the brief altercation.
"Why the bloody hell was Mills staring at you like that?" One of the boys asked Black.
"I have no idea." For some reason, it unsettled the young wizard. Ellie Mills wasn't supposed to look at him with anything other than disdain and a turned nose and the same was expected from him. An expectation he met willingly, happily, and quite well.
"Must have been one hell of a bludger," he added with a shake of his head.
A/N: Wooo. That was a marathon of writing. It's 3:40 in the morning and I am finally wrapping this up. I apologize right now if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes or I'm missing a word here and there. I would also like to apologize if the latter half of this chapter appears rushed in comparison to the former. It probably is :| But I promise that I will take my time with the next chapter! Also, every chapter after this will more than likely not reach this length. Just sayin'. I didn't want to end anywhere before because I felt that this was the best ending to get a decent of idea of the story and the feel. And I won't be doing anything more with abuse if that's a concern with anyone. Only for this chapter. Trust me, I didn't enjoy writing it.
Well, it's off to bed for me! Thank you for reading and goodnight/good morning!
