Ella and Yeoreum stay outside until dinnertime, returning to the dorms when the common room is almost empty. Yeoreum has done so much for her already, yet is still willing to cater to her needs, assuring her that she doesn't need to speak to Dennis or Damien or anyone else for that matter yet. It works for her. Talking to Yeoreum about her feelings has been more than enough for the rest of the day. Or the rest of the month.

The common room is almost empty when they step through the portrait hole and no one looks at them as they climb the stairs to their dorm, which is a good sign. She's provided enough entertainment for one day. They'll have to look elsewhere now.

Sagging onto her bed with a sigh, she closes her eyes, exhausted after the stress of the day. "Do you think we'll get out of turning in our charms essays after today?"

"Doubt it," Yeoreum says. "Flitwick's nice but he's not that nice."

"Damn."

"We might get away with our Defence Against the Dark Arts reading, though. Potter seems more understanding."

"He's still technically a student himself, that's probably why."

"True."

Ella counts the grooves in her bedpost, too tired to do any homework, but the mention of Defence Against the Dark Arts and Harry Potter keeps her mind spinning. Being honest with Yeoreum was a nice feeling. A burden has been lifted from her shoulders, and while she doesn't want to overload Yeoreum with too much information at once, it would be easier for her to know what else she's been doing. Sneaking around is bound to get old at some point.

But would Yeoreum judge her too harshly?

"What are you thinking so hard about over there?" Yeoreum asks, and she realizes she's been squinting at her bedpost for the past few minutes.

She taps her fingers against her pillow, pondering the outcomes. Yeoreum is a friendly person. Sometimes too friendly. Worst case scenario, she'll tell her that it's a horrible idea and try to talk her out of it.

"I'm about to tell you something kind of crazy," she says slowly, "but hear me out."

Yeoreum pushes her textbook away from her, whole body turned towards Ella. "I'm listening."

"Okay, so you remember on Halloween when I was tired and stayed up here?" Yeoreum nods. "Well, I napped for a bit, then woke up and went to go get Jinxie some food. I go downstairs and overhear Harry Potter and his friends talking to each other, right? And I didn't want to interrupt, so I just sort of lurked behind the stairs, but their conversation was super interesting, too. They were talking about something Potter intentionally lost somewhere. Something they called the Resurrection Stone."

"The Resurrection —" Ella watches the realization dawn on Yeoreum's face. "So that's why you were so interested in that sort of thing."

"Exactly."

"But the Resurrection Stone…" Confusion crosses Yeoreum's features. "It's just something from an old kid's tale, right? It's not real."

"It definitely sounds like it is," says Ella. "And that's not all — the Elder wand is real, too."

Yeoreum is leaning forward now, paying close attention. "How do you know?"

"Okay, so, don't get mad at me, but that Quidditch match before winter break? I went to the library instead and I bumped into Draco Malfoy —"

"— Draco Malfoy? Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, he's fun to annoy, but that's it. He was looking for info on the Elder Wand because apparently Potter mentioned it in relation to him when giving his big speech to Voldermort," Yeoreum flinches briefly at the mention of his name, "and it sounds like it was something huge. So, yeah. That's all my evidence for that."

Yeoreum nods slowly, quiet for a few moments. "Okay, so you're looking for information on the Resurrection Stone why, exactly?"

Self-consciousness has Ella's gaze dropping to her bedspread instead. "I just… it sounds like it works. I don't want to bring anyone fully back from the dead, but… but if there's a way to just see someone dead one more time…"

"Then you want to see your brother," Yeoreum finishes for her.

"Yeah." She breathes out, glad to have that weight off of her. "He left so quickly and never returned and I just need, what's the word? Closure." When Yeoreum doesn't respond immediately, she rambles. "You probably think I'm nuts and that's okay, but you can't stop me —"

"— I don't want to stop you. I want to help."

When Ella lifts her head, Yeoreum is looking at her with a spark in her eyes. "He was taken from you too soon. I get it. You should be allowed to talk to him one last time." She falters. "And besides… maybe I can talk to my mum, too. Just to tell her that everyone's doing okay."

Ella smiles softly. "We'll talk to them. Both of them."


Ella sticks by Yeoreum's side the following morning, the two of them heading to the great hall later than usual in order to avoid the breakfast rush. Damien is already there, along with Marius and Torian, and Dennis sits with his friends further down the table. Marius spots them first and nudges Damien, gesturing towards them. When Damien looks, he makes a face, and she swiftly points her nose to the air and sits down.

"Are you ever going to talk to him again?" Yeoreum asks as she sits across from her.

"If he apologizes I'll consider it," she says, piling scones onto her plate.

It's easy to avoid Damien throughout the day when he's set on ignoring her as well. They don't look at each other, though she can see the other three exchanging concerned glances from the corner of her eye. She doesn't mean to make them uncomfortable, but she isn't going to pretend as though nothing happened, and she doubts Damien is either. Not after she made him vomit slugs for Merlin knows how long.

When she does have to interact with one of the boys, it's with Torian during Potions. She doesn't say anything to him when he sits, paying extra attention to Slughorn for the first half of the lesson as he gives them the backstory of the Pompion Potion, only forced to acknowledge him when they have to start brewing the potion itself. Eyes narrowed, she starts chopping ingredients, daring him to say something.

He does. "Hey, uh… I'm sorry about your brother. And for not knowing."

A brief pause in her wrist is all she lets slip at the unexpected words. "It's fine. It's not like I go around telling anyone."

"Still…" There's an awkward silence, Torian looking like he wants to say something else, and Ella waits. "Um, Damien's really sorry about it as well. He's just… being Damien."

She holds back her snort. "If he's really sorry, he can tell me himself."

"That's — that's fair."

The subject is dropped after that, though the silence is a lot more amicable than before. It's Damien she's angry at, not Torian, and she isn't going to stoop as low as to treat him badly by association. She still isn't any more inclined to forgive Damien, though, Torian's kindness be damned.

She doesn't speak to anyone else besides Yeoreum for the rest of the school day, and her spirits are starting to lift by the final bell. That is, until she's stopped on the staircase halfway up to Gryffindor Tower, a prefect she can't quite put a name to standing between her and sweet respite for the day.

"There you are, Creevey," they say. "McGonagall wants to talk to you. Go to the gargoyle statue, the password is catnip."

Yeoreum grimaces as they walk away. "Do you think it's about the slugs?"

"Probably," Ella says with a sigh. "Do you think Damien snitched?"

"He doesn't seem like the type," Yeoreum says. "Maybe someone else who was in the common room did? McGonagall was the head of house until this year, so some Gryffindors are probably still in the habit of going to her about things."

Frustration flares in Ella, but she forces it down lest she take it out on Yeoreum. Her tone is still bitter as she says, "It's none of their business." She takes a deep breath. "You go on ahead. I'll meet you back in the dorms in a little bit."

Yeoreum takes a slow step back on the staircase. "Are you sure? I can come with you if you want."

"It's alright," she says. "I'll come straight back."

With a slight wave, she parts ways with Yeoreum and descends back down the stairs, searching for the gargoyle statue in question. She knows she's seen it before somewhere on the second (or was it the third?) floor, too big to forget. If only there was a proper map of Hogwarts accessible to new students. It would make life much easier.

She does find it eventually, standing taller than her, perhaps taller than she'll ever be. It's a bit intimidating. Just as McGonagall can be.

She clears her throat. "Catnip."

The gargoyle leaps and she takes a quick step back. She reminds herself to breathe properly as the inlet transforms into a spiral staircase. Why does everything in this castle have to bloody move? Not everything has to be sentient, surely.

It's with hesitant steps that she climbs the staircase, not surprised to find herself faced with a set of large double doors at the end. They're foreboding, polished to perfection in their own vintage way, and are very official-looking. She doesn't even know if official-looking is a thing.

Steeling herself while completely aware that she's unprepared, she knocks on the door.

"Come in!"

The door opens on its own, no one behind it, and she certainly didn't open it herself. She slinks inside, shutting the door as she does. Somehow, she doubts she wants anyone else to be privy to this conversation. She stands by the door, uncertain, frozen in place as Professor McGonagall's eyes analyze her from behind her glasses.

In the end, the first thing McGonagall says to her is, "Have a biscuit, Creevey," and slides a biscuit tin across the desk.

She obliges, sitting in the single seat before the desk and stealing a biscuit from the tin. Taking small bites and chewing slowly, she takes the opportunity to look around the room, almost reeling backwards when she takes notice of just how many portraits are hanging on the wall behind McGonagall. And they're moving. She knew photographs moved in the wizarding world, it had been one of the first things Colin told her, but the paintings, too?

McGonagall catches her staring and turns halfway. "These are portraits of previous Hogwarts headmasters. Their memories are preserved in a more… interactive way than in the muggle world."

Ella only nods, taking another bite of her biscuit to avoid having to answer. She does this again and again until the biscuit is gone. There is nothing to hide behind now, and she reluctantly meets McGonagall's eyes, clearing her throat.

"You wanted to see me, professor?"

"Yes, I did," McGonagall says. "Your brother informed me of what happened in the common room yesterday."

Dennis, the traitor. The logical side of her knows that he wouldn't do this to get her in trouble, that there must be another reason, but she doesn't want to hear any of it at the moment. She wants to stew in her feelings. The aggravating heat beneath her skin has cooled somewhat since yesterday's events, but it's still there, ready to boil at the slightest change in temperature. She hopes this isn't the catalyst.

"I won't be giving you detention. Not this time." McGonagall gives her a pointed look and she knows exactly where she'll be going if Damien finds himself throwing up slugs a second time. "But I would like to apologize."

That is unexpected. Ella straightens her posture, eyes wide. "Apologize?"

"Yes," McGonagall says. "The damage to Hogwarts from the war was not just a case of the collapsed castle. It was also the student body and staff. Providing relief and assistance has been one of the main aspects I've wanted to focus on this year, the magical world's lack of services for such a thing aside, and I wanted to ensure that the returning students after the war would not be haunted by what happened. Or if they were, that they would receive help. It did not occur to me that the incoming first years may also be in need of that same help. That was a large oversight on my part, and for that, I'm sorry."

Ella gapes. She was expecting detention, or a letter to her parents, something that would get her in trouble, maybe even some docked points, but this? This is the last thing she imagined she would be called to the headmistress' office for.

"It's… it's fine," she says — croaks — finally. "I'm fine, anyway."

McGonagall purses her lips and regards her once again. Ella has never once felt so seen by anyone before. "…I would never force a student into seeing a mind healer or a similar professional if they were not comfortable or ready for such a thing, but I do want you to know that the offer is there. The war was, and still is, difficult for all of us. I cannot pretend to be in your shoes, but I do know that you are far too young to have to deal with such grief."

Ella looks down, fiddling with the ends of her hair. This conversation is drifting uncomfortably close to Colin territory. It's already reached it, really, just without mentioning any names. She wonders if Dennis also told McGonagall how she reacted when he mentioned it.

"Um, thank you," she says, if only for something to say. "Can I… think about it?"

"Of course," McGonagall says with an understanding smile. "There is no rush. Just please remember to take care of yourself. And I would advise talking to your brother. He's rather worried."

She can only imagine. "I'll do that. Thank you, professor."


On her way back to the common room, Ella makes a decision: if Dennis is in there when she returns, she'll talk to him immediately. If not, she'll speak to Yeoreum first. She doesn't want to keep her friend waiting too long when she promised she'd be back soon. Yeoreum will understand, she always seems to, but she doesn't want to rely on that.

It's a stroke of good (or bad, depending on one's perspective) luck that she runs into Dennis in the hallways. He has his back to her as she approaches, in the middle of a conversation with Evangeline, and she hovers a few steps behind as to not interrupt them. Evangeline sees her first and says something to Dennis, who whirls around so fast Ella is worried he might hurt his back. He seems surprised to see her there.

"I'll see you back at the common room," Evangeline says, giving them both a wave before leaving in the opposite direction.

Ella watches her leave, and even after she's gone, she finds she can't find the words to say. She thought she'd have the entire walk back to think it over. Instead, she clasps her fingers together loosely and stares at the ground.

"Ella —"

"— You told McGonagall."

It isn't what she wanted to say first, but it comes tumbling out of her mouth anyway, and she can't take it back. Dennis visibly hesitates, leaning back slightly and resting his hand against a nearby windowpane.

"Yeah, I did," he says, sounding like a young child confessing to stealing biscuits from his parents' secret stash. "I was worried. Did she talk to you?"

She nods. "Yeah, she offered to help me see a, uh…"

"Mind healer?" Dennis supplies.

"Yeah, that."

"What did you say?"

"That I'd think about it," she says. "I don't — I don't know. What the hell is mind healing, anyway?"

Dennis chuckles a bit at that. "Basically just magical therapists. It's more of a new thing, way more recent than it is in the muggle world. But even if you don't want to talk to one, you know you can always talk to me, right?"

She smiles. It's a small thing, and she's sure most of the emotion is in her eyes, but she hopes it gets her point across. "I know."

He must understand, as he returns her smile before pulling her in for a tight hug. It's the type of hug she would give her brothers when they returned from Hogwarts during the holidays, the ones she gave them at the end of Dennis' first year when she knew something had happened, but had no details other than her brothers being upset. Were her hugs as comforting as this? She hopes so.

"I love you," he says, voice muffled.

She groans, but squeezes tighter. "You're so embarrassing."

"But?"

"But I love you, too."

"Good." And just like that, Dennis is lifting her up, tossing her over his shoulder.

"Hey!"

He laughs. "C'mon, let's get back to the common room."

She kicks his back, sure she's making a scene. "Let me go!"

"Nah."

She slumps against his shoulder like dead weight, but beneath the hair that covers her face, she's grinning.


i just think mcgonagall's neat. also seriously where are the wizard therapists.