"I just walk at that wall?"
"Well, yeah."
Liz stood and stared at the very solid looking bricks in front of her. She gripped the handles of her trolley, closed her eyes, and pushed towards the wall. She expected a sudden collision, but she just kept going. She opened her eyes and glanced back at Harry who followed behind her. He smiled and laughed. There, on platform nine and three quarters, porters took their bags and Harry found their way through the mob to the Weasley family, and they were shortly joined by Hermione Granger. Introductions were made and Hermione gasped.
"Elizabeth Morgan Nimue Cornwall Gwydion! I've read all about you!"
"What? How would you be reading all about her? And what do people around here have against just calling her 'Liz'?"
"Well, Harry, if you hadn't interrupted me, you'd know by now, now wouldn't you?" As always, Hermione had all the answers. "As of now, Elizabeth is the last direct descendant of Britain's oldest and most famous magic bloodline: the Pendragons."
Ron's eyes bugged out of his head. "You mean Pendragon, as in 'King-Arthur-and-the-roundtable' Pendragon?"
"Well, yeah," Liz was blushing a little. "Gwydion was Arthur's birth name. It's Celtic. He adopted the name Arthur when he became king, to fit in with the Christians. All of my names are family names, picked up from ancestors here and there."
"So, King Arthur, Morgana, Mordred, Lancelot, and all of them, they're your ancestors?" Ginny's expression matched her brother's.
"Yes. They were all cousins, and their descendants were too, but more distant, and so on down the line. But the relation is still very direct on my mother's side. We can trace it all the way back to Arthur and Mogana's mother. There's a lot of dark magic in there, so I usually try to keep my family kind of a secret..." A familiar face in the throng distracted Liz as she trailed off.
"Ok, ok. It's my turn. So, a monkey and the Pope walk into a bar…" Liz struggled to contain her laughter while she tried to speak. The Hogwarts Express was on its way, and its passengers were finding ways to pass the time.
"Who's the Pope?" Ron honestly didn't know. The other occupants of the compartment exploded in laughs, leaving Ron dumbfounded.
"You really do need to take Muggle studies, Ron! And the real question is, what in the hell was the Pope doing in a bar?" Hermione looked like she was about to loose control of her bladder.
"But who is-"
"Don't worry about it, Ron. I'll tell you later, and then you'll get it. So, they walk into a bar and sit down. The Pope turns to the monkey and asks him what he wants to drink, and the monkey says-"
"Hello, mind if I join you?" Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Liz all scooted to make room for Seamus.
"Ok, so, the Pope turns to the monkey and asks him-" The door slid open again. "Oh god. Will I ever get to finish this damn joke?" It was Pansy, wearing her distain for the compartment of Gryffindors like the Slytherin badge on her already donned robes.
"Elizabeth Morgan?'
"Yes, Pansy Margaret?"
Pansy glared at the use of her middle name. "I have a message. A certain someone is in the next car, third compartment from the front. He'd love it if you would make an appearance." Pansy hated being a messenger. "Though really, I can't see why any self-respecting Slytherin would want to spend time with you. It looks like you're having plenty of fun here. Why, if my father ever caught me with-"
"Well then, it's a good thing your father doesn't give a shit about you, now isn't it, darling?" Liz bristled at the paternal reference. "Now, I'd love to say it's been a pleasure to chat with you, but then I'd be lying, and you're not worth the trouble. Good-bye," and Liz shut the door in her face.
"So, who's the guy, Liz?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, I have a lot of old friends going to Hogwarts, it could be anyone, really."
"My money's on Draco, personally," Harry said knowingly. "I recognized his handwriting from a letter I saw. You marked out the name, but after five years of classes with him, I know his hand. And I should say, it was definitely not a business letter of any sort, if that's what you're going to claim."
Liz stood and shrugged. "Well, so much for secrets around here. I'm going to go see my boyfriend. Excuse me." She made her way back, and nearly screamed as she crossed into the next car. "You!"
He shook his shaggy, silver blond hair out of his face. "Well, I should hope you weren't out looking for anyone else like this." Liz wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him for the first time in months, since she last saw him at Christmas. Draco kissed back, more than happy to oblige her. "It's nice to have you back for good. The distance has been killing me."
"Don't think for an instant that I don't know who my boyfriend has been filling his many, lonely hours with. The girls at Hogwarts will simply have to back off now, won't they?"
Draco draped his arms on Liz's hips. "And what about you dear? Rumors tell me that for months, you've been babysitting Potter," he spat out the name like a dirty word.
"We do not need to have this conversation, Draco. You know where my loyalties lie." And he did. Still holding her hand, Draco led Liz back to his compartment.
Christopher MacNair and Blaise Zabini greeted Liz with a sandwiching bear-hug. "Em! Good to see you! Up to all your old games, I hope?" The four of them, Elizabeth, Draco, Christopher, and Blaise had practically grown up together. They had grown distant of late, but always managed to get together a few times a year when Liz was about. She was trying very hard to ignore the way Pansy Parkinson was trying and failing to slip herself between Liz and Draco as she gushed her joy at seeing her "dearest Em" again. Only Blaise, Chris, and Draco had ever called her Em. Elizabeth Morgan, E.M., Em. Draco's unfortunate lackeys went outside to guard the compartment, displaced by this newly revived inner-circle. Pansy sniffed at the four friends' open warmth.
"If you have a problem, Pansy, we can take it outside." Em was as sweet as could be.
"Excuse me? Just because I know how to properly-"
"Don't get your panties in a bundle, Pansy. I hold no grudges. Just don't think for an instant that you'll be dipping into the well anymore. I really can't blame you though. Just look at him." Draco and Em always knew that each other's extra-curricular activities were just that, extra. Together, they were happiest. Their bodies nestled together in the corner, Draco's arms possessively around Em's waist. She reached back and ran her fingers through his hair.
Life was sweet for them. They were untouchable. Their names guaranteed it: Gwydion, Malfoy, MacNair, Bullstrode, Parkinson, and Zabini. With Crabbe and Goyle standing guard outside, they constituted the least touchable compartment on the entire train. They were all the perfect children. Charismatic, clever, graceful, and good-looking, they were the definitions all the things that good blood and good money were supposed to be. Together they absorbed the lifestyle: the extravagance, the excess, the scheming. Everyone was always outdoing someone else from the week before. It was a competition they were all good at, and over the years, it had accustomed the next generation to a very comfortable existence. A contented silence settled on the room.
"So, uh, Malfoy, this is an awkward question, I know, but, um… how's your father? How's Lucius?" Draco squirmed. Liz pulled his arms tighter around her, holding his hands in hers.
"Well, how's your father, MacNair? I suspect they're doing about the same out in Azkaban. And while we're one the subject of awkward paternal questions, let's ask Em about the ever elusive Daddy Gwydion, eh?" The numerous arrests made that spring had plenty of people on edge.
"Well, I haven't heard from my father. And I haven't… I can't go see him."
"I haven't seen Lucius either. My mum went once. She came home and drank herself unconscious for two days. Damnit! I just don't understand why he'd ruin everything like that!" Draco was pulling against Em's grip, but she held on.
"He didn't do it to you, you know." After months of the Daily Prophet slamming his father, Em knew he needed to hear something positive right now. That was as good as she could do.
"Did you really just say that? Did you just say something vaguely positive about Lucius? I thought I'd never live to see the day." The silence became awkward, then smothering. A sudden knock on the door lifted the heavy blanket.
"Enter if you dare!" Liz threw her head back and laughed as Blaise growled. He had always been the joker, as twisted as he was.
The door slid open and Ron leaned against the frame. "We're pretty close to school Liz. You oughta get into your robes." The hostility was almost tangible, but the Slytherin and Gryffindor prefects weren't about to go at it right there on the train.
"I'll be back in a second, Ron. Thanks."
"Don't worry about it. Here," he tossed a black bundle at her. "Wouldn't want to break up the love fest, would we?" and he left.
She eased herself up and unwrapped Draco's arms from where they had fixed themselves around her hips. But his hand fixed itself around her wrist. Tightly.
"Don't let that trash, Weasley make you leave. We don't have to care what they think." He tugged on her arm, the closest he would actually come to begging.
"Now, are you just saying that because your Daddy-dearest tells you that?" she countered, twisting her wrist out of his grasp. Lucius and Elizabeth had never seen eye to eye on the subject of pureblood wizard dignity. "And correction, y'all might not have to care what they think, but I have not been sorted yet."
"Oh, honestly, Em! What is there possibly to doubt about you? You're like the second coming of Morgana herself!" Blaise laughed. He had always thought that Liz had the coolest ancestors. "For Merlin's sake, just look at you! You're as Slytherin as they get!"
"Yes, but don't forget, I have the chivalry of Arthur and the lot to reckon with as well." As she made her way back up the corridor, Liz realized that she was smack dab between a rock and a hard place. Old friends could quickly become new enemies, and old enemies would become something worse. Liz made a beeline for Ron and caught him by the arm, not even knowing what to say. "Ron, just listen-"
"No, you listen, Elizabeth. I don't know what you think you are up to, but there are a lot of people putting a lot of trust in you, and you kissing a Malfoy makes you look more like a Morgana than a Guinevere, don't you think?"
"Gwen is not even my ancestor, Ron. And despite the fact that my personal life is really none of your business, I'll fill you in. That was me spending my boyfriend of five years. I haven't talked to or seen him in months, so pardon the affection. I have known all of them since before I can remember. I will not abandon my old friends just to please my new ones."
"It sure doesn't look good. Your past has a whole lot of fuzzy areas, Liz."
"Let's get one thing straight, Ronald. Just because I've spent the last eleven years in America, don't assume I'm ignorant to what has happened. I'm not an idiot. I know what's at stake here. Voldemort will die. His Death Eaters will be destroyed. I will play a hand in that." Her voice had dropped almost to a growl.
"As long as Pettigrew is mine, and Harry gets his shot at Voldemort, you can put your hand in all you'd like, Liz."
"I think Remus might fight you over Pettigrew. And I know you father would love to nail Lucius, and I wish him the best."
"Alright, Liz. I trust Malfoy about as far as I could throw him, but you're with us now."
"Are you really sure about that, Ron? The only life I've ever known is back there, and I'll never have it the same again. And you know what? I wish I could! I wish I could just sit back on the assurance that I'd spend my next two years here with my boyfriend and my two best friends, following in my family's well-trod path of darkness, treachery, and eventual madness. I wish I knew that Draco's parents could one day be happy that we're going to get married sooner or later. I wish I knew that I would fit in somewhere. Nothing is sure for me. You, you've got Harry and Hermione, and your family, and Gryffindor. I don't know if I'll ever have that!"
"But you do! You have me and Harry. My sister adores you. Hermione loves having another girl around. You'll always have Draco," Ron winced. "If they're really your best friends, a different house won't change it. A war is coming, Liz. Loyalties will fall somewhere. If they've got you with us, maybe we'll have a few more for the fight, though the day I fight side by side with a Malfoy is the day the sky falls in."
"Be careful Ron. Even our idle words can have a way of shaping things to come."
"So, if you say you wish you were a Slytherin, you will be?"
"I've got a feeling that my house has already been decided for me. I just really can't tell what it will be, which one will be best for us." The train slowed and came to a stop.
"Well, Liz, we'd better get going. The moment of truth is almost upon us."