Chapter 2: April
April Bristlecone sat, with her younger sister Lucrezia, in the waiting room outside one of the new offices in the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. The Ministry walls, ceilings and floors were tiled in a dark green and black mosaic, dark wooden pews lined the walls with wizards sat like they were waiting to be sentenced to death. Children clung to their parents, sunken faced and sallow looking.
April could feel her younger sister sat next to her fidgeting with nerves.
"You're going to be okay," April whispered. "I've already passed, they're not going to find anything wrong with your ancestry."
Lucrezia looked up at her sister, her brown eyes flashing a cold stubbornness.
"I'm not scared."
"I didn't say you were."
"I just don't want to be here anymore."
"I get it, we're not going to be here long."
April unfolded and refolded the news paper she had in her hands. The Daily Prophet. There was a huge photograph of Harry Potter taking up the front page. The Daily Prophet hadn't been able to find one of him looking rough or angry, much to their chagrin April was sure, so instead it was a photo of him having been selected for the Tri-Wizard tournament what felt like a century ago. Above the photograph was the headline 'Wanted for Questioning about the death of Albus Dumbledore."
An office door opened, and a ministry official stepped out with a clipboard.
"Bristlecone, Lucrezia?"
Lucrezia tucked a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, flashing the diamond stud in her pearly lobe. April stood with her sister, taking her hand. No one met their eyes as they moved across the waiting room floor and into the well-lit office.
The ministry official was a woman, no older than forty years of age, with a plump belly and several chins. She wasn't as toad-like as Umbridge, who April remembered from her short stint as both Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and Headmaster, but she could definitely be a cousin or close relative to the pink wearing psychopath. She sat behind a desk, with a few papers and oddities scattered across. Close to her on the left was a golden globe which looked similar to the prophecy orbs April had seen in Trelawny's office at Hogwarts. Instead of the mist inside being a silvery blue, it was a golden mist, with flecks of red. And from personal experience she could imagine what the red was. She'd warned her sister, but it was still going to be painful to watch.
"My name is Mona Hartworth. I'll be your Inquisitor for today. Is this your first time attending the Ministry?"
Lucrezia nodded.
"Have any of your family members recently had reason to attend the Ministry?"
"Yes, I obtained my blood-status three days ago," April answered. "I'm her sister, April Bristlecone."
The inquisitor flicked through her papers, as her quill continued to make notes on the paper work in front her.
"Ah yes. The older sister. Excellent. Well, I have to give the usual spiel anyway so that it's all documented. As you know, the ministry is implementing a Muggle-Born Register, thus a survey is being undertaken to determine how Muggle-Borns are in possession of magical secrets. Recent research reveals that magic can can only passed from person to person, so with no proven wizardry ancestry further steps must be taken. As such, all students intending to attend Hogwarts must go through a strict inquisition and interview through the Muggle-Born Registration Commission to achieve 'Blood-Status'. Are you aware of the proceedings as they stand?"
"Yes," Lucrezia replied, tucking her hands in her lap.
"And do you accept the role of witness?" Mona asked April.
"I accept."
"On the understand that if you sister fails the examination you may also be pressed for further questioning?"
"I understand."
"Good. Well then, I can move on then. Could you please, Lucrezia, place your hand on the artefact to my left?" the woman asked.
April eyed the small golden ball, which seemed to hum with energy. Lucrezia looked quickly at her sister before placing her hand firmly on the top of the orb. There was a small fizzing sound, like smoked bacon hitting a pan, and Lucrezia pulled her hand away with a sharp scream of pain.
Lucrezia's palm was red raw, like it had been struck with something hot. Left on the orb was a red hand print, the skin flecks and blood floating into the gold mist. April pulled her wand from her pocket and touched it gently to her sister's hand.
"Frigus curavit," April commanded, and a cold flicker of ice wrapped itself around Lucrezia's hand, broke away and left the palm clear of any marks.
"Can I ask that you don't complete any more magic whilst this investigation continues?" Mona asked, side eyeing April. April felt a cold trickle up her spine. She wasn't seventeen yet. The trace would still be on her. What if someone from the ministry came to take her away? What if she'd just put her sister in more trouble by casting magic?
"Now Lucrezia," Mona continued, clearly unaware that April was still underage, "can you explain to me in your own words your magical relations and their occupations?"
"My mother is a Potion's mistress…"
"Name?" Mona corrected.
"Iliza Bristlecone, formally Inkheart," Lucrezia answered. "My father, Richard Bristlecone, works for the ministry of magic in their research department. He specialises in Mandrakes."
"Do you have any muggles in your extended family?"
"Not that I know of."
"Very well. Well, I can confirm your blood-status," she said, tapping on the golden orb which was still golden. "You'll both be expected to attend Hogwarts on the first as September. As you'll know, attendance is now compulsory. I'm sure it's all very exciting, knowing there'll be loads of new faces to grace the halls of Hogwarts. I myself attended, when Armando Dippet, God rest his soul, was still headmaster. I assume loads of things have changed since then."
"I suppose," April answered, tucking her wand back into her jacket pocket.
"Well, we certainly didn't have headmasters being murdered…" Mona pressed, pulling her wand from the top draw of her desk. "Neither of you would have had any reason to contact the ministry's undesirable number one, would you?"
The question was as plainly stated as the others, and it wasn't the first time April had been asked.
"No," she replied sharply. "I'd have told the ministry if I had. My family respected and admired Albus Dumbledore. Even with his faults. Murderers deserve to rot in Azkaban."
"I suppose, with you being in Slytherin and he in Gryffindor, you'd have had very little to do with each other whilst at school?"
"I made a point not to mix in his circles." This wasn't a lie. April had worked hard to stay out of his way. Whilst Potter always seemed to land on his feet, he also drew too much attention from the wrong sort. Even from his first year and his first battle with You-Know-Who. He'd made himself a target, and anyone who got too close to him. Just look at Cedric Diggory…
Mona seemed to like this response and tucked her wand back into her desk draw with a loud slam.
"Excellent. Well, we'll call it a day, then shall we? Thank you for coming in."
April took her sister's hand and led her out of the office. She could feel the clammy sweat between their palms, though she was unsure whether that was from her or her sister who seemed to have taken the majority of the interview in her stride. There was a burning sensation under April's skin though. For all her warning, she'd not realised the effect the second interview would have on her. To be stupid enough to do magic underage…
A tall man stopped in front of them as they made their way out of the waiting room towards the lifts. He had a long greying beard that was tucked neatly into his belt, and a bright yellow handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket.
"Miss April Bristlecone?"
April nodded. This was it. She knew it. It was over.
"Your father left a message for you, he won't be able to take you and your sister home so to take the Floo Network. I can show you down. April kept her mouth clamped shut so that he couldn't see how relieved she was and followed still clutching onto her sister's hand. As the doors of the lift opened, there was a shrill scream from behind them. April turned to see a small boy being torn from his mother's arms. He couldn't have been more than six, not old enough for Hogwarts yet. His mother was crying, reaching out for her little boy as several wizards dragged her away from her son. The ministry worker sent by their father shoved April and her sister hard into the lift and slammed the doors behind him. The metal framework of the lift meant that April could still watch the unfortunate scene in front of her. An older sibling, though April recognised him as a younger attendant from Hogwarts, stepped out of an office and pulled his brother into his arms, who's face was now wet with tears. The brother tried his best to brush them out of the little boy's face, trying harder still not to let the emotions betray themselves on his own expression.
"Muggle-borns, always so bloody dramatic…" complained the ministry worker who'd pushed them into the lift. It made a horrible clanking sound and shot backwards and down away from the Registration Commission.
"What will happen to the boys, if their mother is muggle born?" Lucrezia asked. April squeezed her hand and shook her head. Lucrezia tucked her lips into her mouth and looked at her feet.
"It's not as bad as you think. We're not locking people away just for being muggle-born. Rumour has it that there's going to be housing provided to help people assimilate into their muggle life again. They won't be able to work in any wizarding industry of course, not once their wands are returned."
April could feel the bile creeping up her throat. Her and her sister kept silent for the remainder of the journey, right up until the point where they reached the centre of the Floo Network. The hall was tiled dark green as the rest of the ministry, each wall lined with fireplaces made of dark marble that stood at least eight feet high and wide.
"Your sister should go first," the ministry worker commented, nodding towards Lucrezia. April finally released her sister, unsure now what to do with her hands whilst she waited. Lucrezia took a good handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the nearest fireplace.
"13 Langdon Crescent!" she shouted, throwing the Floo Powder onto the base of the fireplace. Large green flames enveloped her, surrounding her until she was no more than a black silhouette. Then, as quickly as the flames appeared, the flames disappeared and Lucrezia was gone.
"I would have a word with you quickly before you leave," the ministry worker said, holding onto the April's arm as she moved towards the fireplace. "There's going to be a lot of regime changes, developments and what not. Especially with the new headmaster. There are going to be opportunities for certain, high achieving and ambitious, students to make a difference. Is that something you'd be interested in?"
"Make a difference how?"
"Someone will be in touch Miss Bristlecone. This is set to become a very exciting year." The ministry worker tapped two fingers against his head as if giving a minor salute, before turning to walk away. April grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into a fireplace.
"13 Langdon Crescent!" she cried, before throwing down the Floo Powder and being enveloped in flames.
Langdon Crescent was a collection of Georgian homes, tilted in a steady curve around a small dog park. The ceilings were high, the walls were white, and the windows were large. As were the fireplaces. April stepped out of the fireplace in 13 Langdon Crescent's sitting room, dusting herself down and shaking off the soot from her denim jacket. Lucrezia was sat on the sofa, her feet dangling over the edge.
"Go and get changed," April demanded, crossing her arms. "You're going to get soot all over the sofa."
"What took you so long?" the little sister asked.
"I got caught up talking to the ministry man, that's all."
"What did he want?"
"I couldn't tell you. He was a bit too cryptic. Now go change, otherwise I'll tell mum you've been making a mess in her sitting room."
Lucrezia stuck her tongue out but jumped off the sofa and ran up the stairs. April took a detour via the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove to boil.
"High achieving and ambitious? That sounds like every Slytherin in Hogwarts," April pondered. "Although, I can think of particular Slytherins more likely to have an in with the ministry. Crabbe. Goyle. Parkinson. Malfoy…"
April was reminded of the first time she'd met Draco. He'd seemed to confident. So sure of himself. White-blonde hair. Cruel eyes. Thin face. Pale, like his father. He'd walked right up to her and offered his hand – once he'd heard the surname. Knew she was a pureblood like him. But she wasn't like him. Her 'blood-line' didn't really mean that much. Granger, a muggle-born, had been top of every class. Snape, her head of house, was only a half blood. She'd had her prejudices, sure. Even some of those stereotypes she'd found to be true. Hufflepuff's were lovely, but not very bright. They thought more about gossip and food than working. Ravenclaws weren't much better. Too busy researching their ideologies to revise for upcoming exams. But the Gryffindors. They were the worst. They thought 'being courageous' meant jumping in blindly. Threatening their friends. Fighting to 'defend' people who didn't want or need defending.
The kettle came to boil, and she poured into her French press cafetier. She still wasn't allowed to do magic in the house with her trace on, which meant she had to do the cooking, cleaning and everything else by hand. Their house elf, Flamy, was old and wily but she'd put April's clothes on too high a wash too many times to be trust.
"The first chance I get, I'm giving Flamy one of those shirts she's ruined. And get myself a house elf that actually knows what she's doing…" April thought, swirling the coffee around in the boiled water before pressing down the lid and filter.
She placed the cafetier onto a tray, fetched a cup, a jar of honey and a spoon, and made her way upstairs to her room where she didn't have to think about muggle-borns, house elves, opportunities or ambitious students for a while.