OLIVIA:
When I thought about the summer to come, I never imagined it to be any different than normal. I thought about living with Ms. Emmeline Vance in our maisonette near Whitehall, spending most of my days alone while she worked at the Ministry. I thought of my occasional weekend trips to the Burrow, tossing around a quaffle with the boys in the front garden. I thought of a summer as unremarkable as all of my others. But what I got was far from that.
When the train arrived at King's Cross, I got off with Fred and George behind me. As always, Emmeline stood with the Weasleys. But there was something different about it this time. Several other people stood around them, all looking incredibly stern. I recognized them as Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"What's going on?" I asked as I approached, instantly knowing that something was up.
Emmeline looked distressed, her eyes darting from me to the others around her. "Olivia, dear," She sighed, but Kingsley cut her off.
"Not here," he growled. He, along with the others, was tense and on edge. None of them looked at me directly. They glanced around the platform as if they were expecting something to jump out at any moment. "We will discuss it when we get back to headquarters. Let's get a move on."
I followed as they began to push through the crowd towards the exit from the platform without another word, more confused than ever. What was this 'headquarters' that Kingsley spoke of? Were we in danger?
Behind me, Fred and George spoke in low voices. I couldn't quite make out what they were talking about, but I caught the words "You-Know-Who" and "hiding". I tried to look calm, but my mind was racing at a million miles per hour. I hated not knowing.
As we were leaving, I caught a glance at Draco and his parents. His mother embraced him, and his father lay a firm hand on his shoulder, emotionless. I pulled my eyes away when Arthur Weasley's arm fell across my own shoulders. "I hear it has been an interesting year for you," he said.
I nodded, but a smile crept onto my face. Arthur was like a father to me and his presence, much like his sons', was incredibly comforting. "When is a year at Hogwarts ever not interesting?" I joked, though the statement held truth.
He chuckled, "Very true." His hand positioned me in front of the plain brick wall and we broke into a run, passing through the wall.
As we pushed our way through the station, I kept catching Lupin and Tonks glancing at me nervously, as if they were expecting something to pop out and sweep me away. Their looks of concern didn't make me feel any more comforted. I wasn't exactly afraid of any present danger, because I knew that while I was surrounded by these strong witches and wizards, nothing would hurt me. But I was certainly disconcerted. Nonetheless, I followed without question. They knew what they were doing.
The streets of London were incredibly crowded, as usual. We probably looked like a right odd bunch carrying trunks, owls, and broomsticks, but the muggles didn't seem to take any particular interest. We walked in silence, blindly following behind Kingsley. Emmeline walked a few paces ahead of me, clearly restraining herself from saying anything to me.
We walked for what felt like forever, winding through the dark streets of London. We gradually grew farther away from the crowds and into a quiet residential area. Finally, Kingsley stopped in his tracks and raised his wand.
On the rather unassuming street lined with muggle houses, the buildings began to rattle and shove apart, revealing a dark looking home.
Kingsley approached the house, Lupin following closely behind him. When the tip of his wand touched the door handle, it swung open. Arthur's hand was on my shoulder again, ushering me towards the house. I climbed the steps and stepped inside. I found myself standing at the mouth of a long hallway, lit by gas lamps and a large chandelier looming overhead. Ornate portraits lined nearly every inch of the paper covered walls, the most prominent one depicting a wild looking grey woman. At one time, it may have been a beautiful grand entryway, but now it was gloomy and cobwebby, with the wallpaper peeling off, moth-eaten drapes, and the carpet worn thin. "Welcome to Order headquarters," said a voice deeper inside the home. From one of the many doorways appeared a distantly familiar face, crowned with a head of stringy black hair. "I'm Sirius," he greeted, "you must be Ms. Olivia."
I felt my jaw flap open as I stared at him. That was where I recognized him from: the wanted posters and front pages of the Daily Prophet. I had heard many stories about him from Harry and his friends, but I had never seen him in person. "Y-yes sir. You're Sirius? Sirius Black?"
"That's the name. Don't wear it out," he smiled, shaking my hand. He had a warm smile for someone who had spent twelve years in Azkaban.
I turned to the others behind me. "What are we doing here?" I asked finally.
Everyone looked around at each other. They were hiding something from me, and I was determined to find out what it was.
"Boys, Ginny, make yourselves busy elsewhere. We have much to discuss," Molly ordered.
I looked up at Fred, suddenly scared that they were leaving my side. They were always at my side. "I want Fred and George to stay," I requested boldly. It wasn't like me to speak out like that, but with everything around me so unfamiliar, I needed something comfortable.
Molly looked at Kingsley. He gave a sharp nod before pushing past Sirius. I followed.
Everyone took a seat around the long dining table, looking even more serious than before (though I didn't believe that possible). "Olivia," Kingsley began, "I assume that you have been made aware of the return of You-Know-Who."
I nodded, "Yes sir."
"Well, we believe that with his return, you and those closest to you are in incredible danger," he said bluntly.
"Kingsley," Emmeline gasped beside me, clutching my arm, "don't scare her! She is only a girl."
He furrowed his brow, "She is not a child, Vance. She deserves to know the truth." When no one objected, he continued, "With the guidance of Albus Dumbledore, we have determined that this is the safest place for you this summer. It would be no surprise if You-Know-Who was out there looking for you, seeing as you are his granddaughter as well as being close with Mr. Harry Potter. It is far too great of a risk to have you roaming the streets."
I took a deep breath. The well-worn walls felt as if they were closing in on me. This place gave me the creeps. How could I spend the whole summer locked up in here? But I would not argue. Instead, I sighed, "So, I can't leave at all?"
Lupin spoke up, "It would be very ill-advised."
And just like that, all of my hopes for the summer had completely disappeared. There would be no quaint maisonette. There would be no trips to the Burrow. And there would certainly not be any games of Quidditch. Suddenly, I found myself longing for the normality that I had begun to grow rather bored of. "The Weasleys will be here also?" I asked desperately, glancing at Molly across the table.
She nodded. "We will come and go, but yes. We will reside here with you for the majority of the time," Arthur said reassuringly.
George perked up, "We will?" Nobody answered him.
"What am I to do all day?" I questioned.
Sirius grinned, "Well, the place could use some work. I was hoping you wouldn't mind assisting me in restoring it for use by the Order. Myself and Remus have also been instructed to teach you as many defensive skills as we can."
That peaked my interest. Ever since I had started at Hogwarts, the Defense Against the Dark Arts department had been a bit lacking, with the exception of Remus himself. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. I had a lot to catch up on.
"This is the safest house there is," Lupin said. "It's shielded by almost every enchantment possible."
I turned to Emmeline, "And you'll be here with me?"
Her face turned sullen. She opened her mouth to answer, but Kingsley beat her to it. "Emmeline must continue her work at the Ministry. We feel that it would be best to keep you two separated. It would be unsafe to have her leaving and returning every day, as You-Know-Who will likely know where to find her."
Although the point made sense, I didn't like it. "But you said that those close to me are in danger as well! There is no one closer than her!" I argued.
"Sweetheart," Emmeline gasped. It was very unlike me to get worked up like this. "I would much rather them catch me than you. You are far more valuable."
Kingsley took a deep breath. "If You-Know-Who truly is looking for you-"
"Voldemort," I huffed, "His name is Voldemort."
Molly's hand clutched her chest, stunned at the sound of his name. She did this every time I said the name. The only other person who she heard use it was Harry.
I didn't mean to get angry or lash out. All of the emotions from the last weeks were piling up and hitting me at once. The despair, the worry, the fear. It had all grown a bit much to handle at one time. "He's already hunting for me. What more damage could using the name do?" I asked calmly. No one seemed eager to answer.
"Shall I show you to your room?" Sirius suggested, rising from the table. I, too, stood up and followed him up several flights of stairs to the topmost floor.
At the top of the stairs was a large landing with high ceilings. Several couches sat unused and covered in dust. There was a door on either side of the room, the farther one marked with a sign that read "Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black". Sirius, however, approached it unfazed and opened the door.
The room was large, and like most of the house, had seen better days. I could tell that it had once been beautiful, with a carved wooden headboard on the bed, velvet curtains, and fine wall hangings and furniture. But that wasn't the thing that struck me about the room. The walls were decked out with Slytherin colors and banners. A Black family crest was painted over the bed and newspaper clippings about Voldemort donning the walls. My heart dropped.
"My apologies for the decor," Sirius said glumly. "The room previously belonged to my brother. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, if that's possible." He put down my trunk, which he had carried up from downstairs, and disappeared back to the lower floors.
Just as I began to unpack, I heard footsteps outside the door. I looked up to see the twins peering inside. "Cozy," Fred remarked sarcastically.
"It's not so bad," I said halfheartedly. "I reckon the ceilings are high enough to fly a broomstick." They laughed, both looking up to assess the possibility.
"Ollie," Fred said, suddenly sounding serious, "are you scared?"
I met his eyes. "I'm absolutely terrified," I said flatly, not even able to joke anymore.
George's gaze slowly fell from the ceiling back to me. "What do you reckon he would want with you?" He asked. "Would he want you to be a Death Eater? Or would he kill you?"
I shrugged, not having put much thought into it, "I don't know. But I'm not sure which would be worse." But I did know that. I would much rather die than be forced to fight by his side. I would rather die than be put through the torment that I had seen within Draco.
Fred's expression grew darker yet. "Ollie, if You-Know-Who is out there, then you-"
He was interrupted by the creak of the door opening again. Behind it stood Ron and Ginny, both looking bewildered by the decorations. "What was all that about?" Ron asked innocently.
George shook his head, "It's not-"
I cut him off. "George, they deserve to know."
"Mum won't be happy," Fred pointed out, but I waved him off. She was never angry with me.
"With Voldemort back, they are afraid that he might come looking for me," I explained, "so they're keeping all of us here for the summer." I breathed deep, not allowing the anger from before to surface.
Ron gave me a worried look.
"We? Like, us too?" Ginny asked.
Fred nodded. "Us too."
There was a tense silence among them, no one knowing what to say. But as I looked around at them a strange sort of excitement brewed inside of me. This summer may not be what I had expected, but it was a new adventure, and I was glad that I got to share it with them.
"Olivia!" I heard echo up the stairs. It was Emmeline.
I stepped out onto the landing, "Yes?"
"I am about to head home," She said. I could hear the strain in her voice. She clearly didn't want to leave me here with these people, but she knew that it was the safest thing for me. Perhaps I could learn a lesson or two from that. I loped down the many flights of stairs, back into the entryway.
She was stood in front of the door, staring up at the portraits on the wall. "This isn't the place that I imagined I would be leaving you," she said.
"This isn't how I imagined I'd be spending the summer," I pointed out,
She was silent for a moment before turning to face me. "Sirius Black is a good man," She whispered. This, I already knew. "He only wants to help you."
I nodded. I appreciated his help, though I wished that I didn't need it. "Will you write to me?" I asked.
"Of course I will write to you, my dear." She pulled me into an embrace, her head resting perfectly on my shoulder. We were about the same height, but that was where the resemblance stopped. I looked quite like my father, Kieran Riddle, who incidentally looked exactly like his own father Tom. I shared his same dark hair and eyes, along with his pale, olive toned skin. Not only was our coloring the same, but I also had inherited his bone structure: defined cheekbones and jawline, as well as a tall and thin frame. Emmeline on the other hand had lighter hair, pale eyes and rosy skin. Though we didn't look anything like family, she was the closest thing I had.
She kissed my forehead lightly, as she had done from the time I was a little girl. "Be careful," she whispered. And with that, she turned and opened the door. I watched as she left and disappeared down the dark street.
DRACO:
"I expected better of you, my son," my father huffed. These words came as no surprise to me, as nothing I ever did was enough for him. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I refused to look up at him. Instead, I stared down at my dinner plate, pushing around bits of cottage pie with my fork. I wasn't at all hungry. I had only been home for a matter of days and the abuse had already begun.
"I'm sorry, father," I said distractedly.
He shook his head, "I don't want to hear your apologies. It's the same thing every year, and your marks never improve."
I knew that wasn't true. In fact, I thought that I had done fairly well in most of my classes this year. But apparently he disagreed. "I won't let it happen again."
My mother was watching me as well. As always, she didn't say anything to defend me, but nor did she express any sort of disapproval. She simply stood by and watched my father berate and belittle me. But she was just as afraid of him as I was. I glanced up at her for a split second, somewhat pleading for her to step in. I knew that she wouldn't, but it was worth a shot. "I don't feel very well," I muttered, "May I be excused?"
This wasn't entirely a lie. The constant pressure would sometimes make me feel sick to my stomach or like I was suffocating. Though currently, I was merely trying to get away from it before it got worse.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" My mother asked, her expression softening.
I nodded slightly, "I just need to go lie down."
My father put his fork down. "Fine," he breathed, "it might do you some good to think about your negligence."
"Yes, sir," I said as I stood up and retreated to my bedroom.
My room wasn't any more cheery than the rest of our house. Despite the high ceilings and large windows, it still managed to feel dark and gloomy. I sat down on my large four-poster bed and pulled out my quill and a piece of parchment. Words swam through my mind as I struggled to think of how to start the letter, but once the ink touched the parchment, it all seemed to flow right out of me.
Olivia,
I already cannot wait for the start of term. This house is already miserable.
My father's dark mark is back. He hasn't stopped talking about it all week. I am afraid that Harry was right. You-Know-Who has really returned. He is already talking about plans for me to receive one of my own. But I don't want one of my own. My mother insists that he waits until I am of age, but he says there is not enough time to wait. I am scared.
How are you finding London? Is it good to be back home? When are you supposed to receive your O.W.L. results? I hope you are well and I miss you a lot. Please stay safe.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy.
It wasn't a very long letter, but I really didn't have very much to say. All that I wanted was to talk to her, to know that she was still there. She hadn't admitted it, but she must have been terrified as well.
I rolled the parchment back up and made my way to one of the many windows, throwing it open. Almost immediately, I saw a large shadow descend from the clouds. My owl, whom I had named Hamlet, perched on the windowsill, eager to be given a job to do. Somewhat hastily, I tied the letter to his leg and fed him a treat. "Good boy," I whispered to him. He cooed softly before taking off. I watched as he disappeared into the distance, wishing for the freedom that owls were given.
