Updated:Thursday 24th February 2005
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Chapter Thirty Four: Face to Face.
The rest of the outing with the Tonks passed without incident, and the respective parties parted with a multitude of photos and memories to cherish the occasion for the days and years to come. Initially, Estella had thought Ted's Polaroid Camera to be rather barbaric in its technology, but now she had her very own collection of Muggle photographs to commemorate the day with, she appreciated the novelty. Developing Wizarding photos was, after all, a lengthy process – requiring precision in potions and much patience. It comforted her to know that she would have some images to tide her over until the time she could convince her Uncle to provide her with the ingredients for the developing potion.
Returning back to their terraced flat, Estella bid Remus goodnight and made her way upstairs to pack. In a few hours the moon would be rising, and she assumed she would be going home.
'But it's only Thursday!' a voice inside her screamed. 'Uncle Sev said 6pm Sunday!'
Estella was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of someone knocking on her bedroom door. "Are you alright, Cub?" Remus' worried voice drifted through the wood. "It's still so early."
"Come in, Uncle Remus." Estella replied wearily.
The door opened cautiously, revealing the peppered locks of her Godfather. "What's all this?" He asked, when he saw Estella's trunk packed. "You that eager to get back to the school?"
"Well it's a full moon tonight, isn't it?" Estella asked flatly. "You are sending me home, aren't you?"
Realisation dawned on Remus' face as he pulled up the chair from Estella's desk so that he could sit across from her where she sat dejectedly on her bed. "I'll understand completely if you want to go home." Remus said quietly, leaning his head on his arms as they braced the back of the chair that he was straddling. "But please know that you don't have to. I have precautions in place to ensure your safety for tonight."
Casting Remus a quizzical look, Estella mused aloud. "So you're not going to the Shrieking Shack?" She asked. "What about the Muggles?"
"Estella," Remus said, his eyes downcast. "I haven't been back to the Shrieking Shack since… since… that night."
Eyes as wide as saucers, Estella's face fell into a silent 'o'. "Then where…?"
"There's a room off the cellar." Remus explained. "It was built as a bomb shelter after the war. After… after that night, your Uncle came and helped apply the appropriate wards to contain me during the full moon."
Clasping either side of Remus' face with her small, delicate hands, Estella tilted Remus' head up to look at him in the eye. Seeing the guilt and pain that resided there, she kissed him on the nose and pressed their foreheads together.
"I trust you, Uncle Remus." She said sincerely. "I'll be happy to stay for the rest of the week!"
Pulling back his head to rest his lips upon her brow, Remus let out a breath that he didn't realise he had been holding. "Thank you, Cub." He whispered. "Now, this is how things will go…"
Remus had been locked in the warded room for an hour. He had explained to Estella that there was no way he would be able to come out of the room whilst in his transformed state – even if someone were to try and extract him – and that if there were any troubles in the night, she was to activate an emergency portkey back to Hogwarts. The portkey took the form of a piece of wool, tied around Estella's wrist. Under no circumstances was anyone but Remus or her Uncle to remove it. Estella doubted she would be able to remove it if she tried.
The ground rules were simple. Estella was free to roam the house until 10pm, upon which time she was under strict orders to put herself to bed. After watching the movie 'The Goonies' on video, Estella noted that it was still only eight o'clock. With little else to do, Estella decided to go upstairs and explore some more – without the risk of getting caught out. No matter how hard she tried, however, she couldn't get the door to her parent's room open. Her parents room was the only room in the house she had yet to see – let alone explore – and she was most curious to see what it looked like. Things would have been so much easier if she was permitted to do magic outside of Hogwarts.
Tired of peeking in fruitlessly through the keyhole, Estella pulled herself to her feet and reached up for the chord to the attic trapdoor.
'Perhaps there was a key hidden up there amongst all the junk.' She thought as she gave the chord a tug and brought the stairs down. The attic was one of the few places in the house she had yet to explore properly. Asides from the cursory glance she gave it when Remus had initially shown her the house, Estella hadn't really been up there at all. Now that she was up there, though, she found that there quite a lot of interesting little things worthy of further perusal.
One of the first things that caught Estella's eye was a expensively crafted Wizarding Chess set. The pieces were intricately carved out of rich Holly and Oak respectively, and presented in a plush, transportable yew case lined with forest green velvet drawers for the pieces and featuring a collapsible game board embossed with white and black marble. Toying with the pieces thoughtfully, Estella established a pile of things she wanted to take downstairs with her. If leaving Wizarding items lying about in plain sight was unacceptable to Remus, she resolved to see about taking a few things back to Hogwarts with her – or at least hiding them well in her bedroom downstairs. It just wouldn't do to keep such a chess set stored away, never to be played.
Amongst the other items of interest that caught Estella's eye were; a sneakoscope, a rememberall, a dragonhide wand holster and a magical hand-held mirror that had quite a funny sense of humour. Wary of Boggarts, she left the trunks full of clothes and books to their own devices and settled for what she had found. Making one last trip around the perimeter of the room, however, something she hadn't noticed earlier caught Estella's eye. There, stacked in a shadowed, unseen corner, were a pile of old portrait frames.
Curious, Estella pulled out the pile and started looking through them. Faces she didn't recognise yawned and peered at her curiously as she flipped her way through them like some giant rolodex. Warned against conversing with strangers, Estella resisted the urge to talk with any of them until she came to the last portrait. There, standing side by side, in full profile, were none other than her parents.
Dropping the portrait back against the wall in her shock, she startled the portrait's occupants from their slumber and could only watch in frozen awe, as one of them began to speak.
"Moony! MOONY! Is that you?" Her father's sleepy voice bellowed from the canvas. "What do you think you're doing shoving us up here in the dark all this time? What year is it? Who's in the running for the Quidditch World Cup?"
"Oh really, Sirius!" A woman's voice admonished. "First signs of life we've had in nearly 10 years and all you can think to ask about is Quidditch! Oh, remind me again never to get painted while I'm pregnant – the baby's kicking again!"
"'Oh Sirius, let's immortalise this moment forever!'" Sirius mocked his wife's voice. "Think it's easy for me to be in a portrait with a pregnant woman either? With your hormones?"
"Oh can it Siri," Selina cried, following slight slapping noises and a cry of protest from her companion. "You know you love it."
"You bet I do, babe." Sirius growled, before the portrait emitted a series of smacking kissing noises.
"Sirius! Stop it, we have company." She said, turning their attention back to Estella who had remained out of their line of sight and was sprawled on the floor in shock, listening, too afraid to look.
"Who's there?" Sirius asked suddenly, his voice edgy. "Show yourself!"
Hearing this, Estella swallowed nervously and emerged from the shadows, moving so that she could see her parents fully and they could see her. Speechless, all Estella could do was sit there whilst she could feel her parent's eyes on her, scrutinising her, putting the pieces together in their minds.
Recognition lighting his features, Sirius smiled warmly. "Which one are you?" He asked merrily. Then, rubbing his wife's belly suggestively he added, "are you my little missy here… or are we well on our way from establishing our very own Gryffindor Quidditch team?"
Estella sat, mouth agape in surprise. Her father seemed nothing more than a devoted family man with a immature streak and deep seeded love for all things Quidditch. Not like she had pictured him at all, but still, she was wary.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, her mother withdrew from her shock just enough to speak. "What did we name you child?"
At the sound of her mother's voice directed at her – so caring and loving - Estella felt a lump in her throat form. Unable to form words, Estella stared at her mother with a deep sense of loss and yearning tearing at her heart for what felt like the first time in her life. Up until that moment she had just taken for granted that her mother was dead, but now she actually had a glimpse of what she was missing out on, it hurt.
Sensing the unease in the air, Estella's mother frowned. "What's the matter sweetheart?" She asked, concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
The tears that had, until that moment, been threatening to fall; finally fell in a uncontrollable cascade of emotion. Opening her mouth wordlessly, Estella crumbled. Her parents, meanwhile, had come to acknowledge the painful possibility that their child before them was in all likelihood an orphan, and that they were dead.
"Oh dear Merlin!" Selina cried, her pre-natal hormones spiralling out of control as she collapsed into her husband's shoulder in tears.
Sirius also, Estella noted, had the gall to look hurt and shocked. She positively shivered with mixed emotions as she saw his image wrap its arms around her mother's midsection – the place where her unborn self was ingrained forever on the canvas – as he comforted his wife.
"How did it happen?" He choked out breathlessly. "How old were you? Was it Voldemort? The war… is it over? Are you safe and well? Who's taking care of you?"
Her father's line of inquisition both warmed and infuriated her. Warmth at the apparent implication that she was loved, infuriation at the simple fact that had her father not been sent to Azkaban and she would still at least have had one parent. Not knowing what to say to either of them, Estella rose suddenly and dragged the portrait back to its former resting place; drowning out her parent's startled protests and questions. Avoiding their eyes, she then proceeded to place the other portraits back in front of her parent's portrait, effectively drowning out their cries.
Slightly shaken, Estella gathered the items she wanted to take downstairs with her and left the attic for the sanctuary of her room. Once reaching the room, however, she found she could not escape. Everywhere Estella looked she could see them in her mind. Her father painting the Quidditch players on her walls, her mother painting the flowers and arranging her shelves. Everything about the room she had spent the past week in just reeked of lost opportunities and what could have been. Estella had never felt so alone and despondent in all her short life. Curling up into a ball on the bed and squeezing her eyes shut, Estella, for the first time in her life, mourned for the loss of her parents.
End Chapter: Face to Face