Chapter 11: Zelda

Ray opened one eye and peered out at the world. The birdsong and the scents in the air told him it was past dawn, but the angle of the sunlight on the wall meant not by much. He braced himself for the inevitable...

Good MOR-ning!

Mmmmuuhhhh.

You know, you've been saying that for ten years now, and I still don't know what it means.

It means, hello, good morning to you too, thank you for mentally shouting in my ear, now will you please go be cheerful somewhere else for a while?

Where else would you like me to be cheerful?

Anywhere that doesn't have me.

Can I stay if I stop being cheerful?

Sure. Fine. Ray pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes again.

Only early training kept him from yelling aloud when a cold nose poked him in the back.

ZELDA!

What? She had her paws on the edge of the bed and was giving him her most innocent look as he sat up. That wasn't cheerful.

No, it was just bloody annoying... never mind, I know, it's time to get up anyway. Are you just doing this for kicks, or is there something you need to tell me?

Both, actually. Zelda jumped onto the bed and sat facing him. I wanted to ask how we were going to handle my time of the month while we're here.

Oh, hell. Ray groaned inwardly. That is coming up, isn't it?

I should have it by this weekend at the latest.

All right. Saturday. Remind me not to spike your food on Friday night, and you can stay in here all day. You're going to want my wand, aren't you?

Of course.

I should have known.

Yes, you should. Do you think your letter home you wrote yesterday has gotten there yet?

Probably.

How do you think everyone is taking it?

Don't know...

Lucius Malfoy sat completely still at his dining room table, one hand loosely gripping a sheet of parchment. "Gryffindor," he said finally, very quietly.

Narcissa looked up from her place at the foot of the table, where she was daintily eating porridge. "I beg your pardon, Lucius?"

"Gryffindor, Narcissa. Our son has been Sorted into Gryffindor."

Narcissa nodded. "I thought he might well be," she said. "This is good."

"Good?" Lucius stared at his wife. "No, this is not good! Malfoys are always Slytherins! For one to be a Gryffindor is a sign that something is seriously wrong..."

"No, it is simply a sign that Draco is not exactly like you, Lucius," said Narcissa irritably. "Do look at things sensibly. Tell me this. Do you expect the Dark Lord to return?"

Lucius sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Expect? I know not. Hope for, yes. Wish for, certainly. But expect is too strong a word."

"But you would prefer a future in which he did return to one in which he did not."

"Yes."

"And some, if not all, of your plans are made with regards to that sort of future."

"Indeed."

"Then consider, Lucius, how it will look, when he does return, to be able to say, 'My lord, my son is a member of the House most commonly devoted to the other side and therefore, if not beyond reproach, at least less likely to garner attention from certain faculty members, some of whom are known to favor that house... and my son has access at almost all times to the sleeping place and belongings of one Harry Potter.'"

Lucius sat up straight. "That is true. I had not considered that. Potter is the same age as Draco, and he would most likely be a Gryffindor himself... that is very true."

A smile appeared on his face, one Narcissa knew well. It meant Lucius was losing himself in blissful dreams of a future in which he ruled over hordes of slaves, Muggle and magical, directing where they could go and whom they could see, reveling in their sorrow and humiliation.

She got up and slipped out. She would not be missed. Dobby would bring her breakfast in her room, and she could enjoy some civilized conversation.

She recalled the one thing she had done, all those years ago, which more than any other had secured her the loyalty of their household servants...

"Lucius."

They were alone in her bedchamber. Draco, a month-old infant, was in the nursery, being cared for by Dobby. The other members of their household were tending to their own business, which Lucius thought to be one thing, but Narcissa knew to be entirely another.

But that does not concern us now.

"Yes, Narcissa?" Her husband looked up from the scrolls he was studying, pale brows drawing in towards the center in a frown.

Sharply she forced down envy and a vain hope, for what never could have been. "I must speak to you about household affairs."

"Then speak."

"Lucius, I know my duties as your wife, none better. I have recently fulfilled one of them."

"Indeed you have, and admirably. Allow me to congratulate you again on such a fine, healthy son as you gave me."

Narcissa concealed her smile and spoke sternly. "But as your wife, I also have rights. I have looked the other way on many occasions, but this will not be one of them, Lucius. I will not tolerate your conduct towards Calpurnia. Turn your eyes away from her, she is not for you."

"Calpurnia?" Lucius looked aghast at her. "Have you gone mad, Narcissa? Why, or how, should I desire an animal?"

"Do not think me foolish, Lucius, I am not. I know quite well what goes on every day in this house, and why certain doors are locked at certain times, and when and how our house and grounds are kept secure. I know that you seek to extend the period when such security may be had, and for all I know you shall succeed. But success or failure, Calpurnia is not to be touched. I will not have that... thing... taking my rightful place."

"Then perhaps, madam, you should make more effort to fill your rightful place, as you call it! And I will have the equal promise from you, that Caesar's visits to this bedchamber will cease!"

Narcissa laughed coldly. "A shot in the dark, Lucius? You're slipping. But you have my word. Caesar shall not enter this bedroom again, unless you yourself call him here."

"And you have mine, madam," said Lucius angrily, picking up his scrolls. "The chastity of Caesar's wife shall henceforth be without reproach."

Thankfully, no promise was necessary in the case of Griselda. Not after he had given her as a present to Draco. Not even he would harm his son's favorite plaything.

Narcissa amused herself for a moment by picturing Lucius' face if and when he found out that his son's plaything had actually been a playmate...

A few of the teachers protested when Zelda accompanied Ray to class, but the wolf was so well-behaved that by the end of Transfiguration on Thursday, Professor McGonagall had actually smiled at her, something she almost never did. Professor Sprout, in Herbology, was delighted that Zelda could, and did, smell out and dig up some of the Creaking Crocus bulbs she'd planted the previous year, and Professor Flitwick congratulated Ray on having such a well-trained animal after Zelda sat still and allowed him to change her fur different colors.

"Potions today," said Harry at breakfast on Friday, pouring sugar onto his porridge. "Double Potions, with the Slytherins."

"Wonderful, I can show you Tweedledum and Tweedledee," said Ray, glancing at the Slytherin table. "Otherwise known as Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. I think my father may have told their fathers to tell them to watch me. I couldn't get them to leave me alone at the station. I finally had to try talking in words of one syllable." He adopted a very slow, drawling tone. "Buh. Ger. Off."

Ron snickered. "Did it work?"

"Must have. I've barely seen them since."

"Well, that might be because you're a Gryffindor now," said Neville, reaching for the milk. "And they're Slytherins. Did your father expect you to be a Slytherin, d'you think?"

"Oh, I'm sure he did. But I had my own plans."

"Speaking of plans, what are you doing this afternoon?" asked Harry, who had just opened the note Hedwig had brought him.

"Not too much. Why?"

"Hagrid's invited me to tea," said Harry, showing the note around. "I thought some of you might like to come along."

"I'll go," said Neville.

"Sure, why not?" said Ron through a mouthful of sausages.

Ray nodded. "As long as Zelda can come."

"Do you ever go anywhere without her?" asked Ron, swallowing.

"Well, you won't see her at all tomorrow. She's feeling what I call dennish. That means she likes to hide away in a little place, like under my bed, and not come out all day. And she takes my things with her, like my robes, or my wand..."

"Your wand?" asked Harry, looking at Zelda in confusion. "What does she want with your wand?"

Ray shrugged. "Don't know."

"Precision," said Professor Snape, sweeping around the classroom and glowering into people's cauldrons. "Precision is the key to proper potion-brewing."

Ron turned his face slightly away from Snape, grinding the snake fangs in his pestle a little finer. Ray was stirring their cauldron carefully, Zelda watching in what looked like fascination.

It's still not normal, Ron thought. No animal should be that interested in schoolwork. No human should be that interested.

Ray turned away from the cauldron to sort through pine needles. Ron dumped in his crushed snake fangs, then picked up the stirring stick and began to mix them in.

Look out! screamed a voice, and something hit him hard, knocking him to the floor, as an explosion went off in his cauldron. If he'd still been leaning over it, he would have gotten it full in the face.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly, looking around at his savior. It had been a girl's voice, it must have been one of the girls who had pushed him...

But it wasn't a girl. It wasn't a human at all.

It was Zelda, breathing hard and looking at him as if she were scared.

Someone shouted "Look out". Zelda knocked me down. And now she looks scared...

"Weasley," said a cold voice behind him, and Ron suddenly had other things to worry about than why Draco Malfoy's pet wolf was afraid.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor because I stirred the bloody thing the wrong way!" ranted Ron as they climbed out of the dungeon.

"You'd have been worse off if Zelda hadn't knocked you down," said Neville. "You would have gotten fifteen points off and a trip to the hospital wing."

"Yeah, about Zelda." Ron stopped, letting Ray and the object of discussion get a little farther ahead than they already were. "Does she seem... odd to either of you?"

"Odd how?" asked Harry. "She follows Ray everywhere, she listens in class better than most of the students, and I think I saw her start to raise her paw once, like she wanted to answer a question." He chuckled. "If she could talk."

"But that's just it. I think maybe she can."

Neville frowned. "A talking wolf? Ron, are you sure you didn't get hit with that explosion after all?"

"No, listen – just before she ran into me, I heard someone yell, 'Look out!' A girl. Did you hear anything, either of you?"

Harry and Neville shook their heads. "No one yelled," said Neville. "We were all just working, and then we heard your potion explode."

"And when we looked up, you were on the floor with a wolf on top of you," said Harry. "Maybe you hit your head and you're hearing things. Come on, let's get lunch."

The afternoon was uneventful, except for an encounter between Zelda and Mrs. Norris, involving a great deal of growling on one side and spitting on the other, but no actual bloodshed. The boys meandered down to Hagrid's hut around three o'clock.

Hagrid let them in, holding back his boarhound, Fang, who started making friends with Zelda immediately Hagrid let him go, then licked all the boys' ears thoroughly as Harry introduced them.

"So, great news abou' Sirius," said Hagrid, pouring out tea for everyone. "An' how long've you known and never told no one?"

"All my life, pretty much," said Harry tiredly. "Everyone wants to know about him this last week, everyone's asking questions... except you, Ray," he said suddenly, turning to the blond boy. "You haven't asked me one thing about him, I just realized that. Why not?"

Ray grinned. "Why should I? Everyone else already asked everything I wanted to, I heard you when you answered them, so why ask you questions over again?"

"Thank you," said Harry heartily. "I wish I could just write up a little sheet of answers and give them out to anyone who asks. Yes, I like having him around. No, he isn't mean to me. Yes, he likes to play jokes. No, he's never hurt me. On and on and on."

"I just can't believe he was always there," said Neville, blowing on his tea. "I was at your house – Mrs. Black's house – lots of times, and he was always there, but I never saw him. I never even knew he was there."

"That would be creepy," said Ron. "I mean, if you did know that someone was there, but you never saw them. They just sneaked around where you couldn't see them."

"Like living with a house-elf," said Ray. "Or..." He stopped.

"Or what?" asked Harry.

"Nothing."

Zelda came away from her game of chase-Fang's-tail to rub against his shins comfortingly.

"So, let's see yeh here, little lady," said Hagrid, reaching over to pick her up. She yipped in surprise, but let him lift her into his lap, where she looked more like a spaniel or a terrier than the mostly-grown wolf she was. "Hmm, now where'd yeh get her, Ray?"

"She was a gift from my father, sir. A belated first birthday present."

"So yeh've had her a while, then."

"Yes, sir. All my life."

"Don' go callin' me sir, I won' know who yer talkin' ta," said Hagrid with his booming laugh as he stroked Zelda, examining her closely. "Now this's interestin', this is... see her tail, here? 'Snot supposed ter be like that."

"Like what?" asked Ron, peering at it.

"Like it is. With the tuft on the end, like. Wolves have long, smooth tails. An' the way her face is shaped, an' these claws o'hers... 'f I didn' know better, I'd say she was a werewolf, not a true wolf at all." Hagrid laughed again. "But she can't be, o'course. Werewolves only have that shape at full moon, and this little lady stays this way all the time, don' she?"

Ray nodded.

"So I'd imagine yer father thought she might scare people off a little better if he made her look like a werewolf. Yeh'll have ter ask him sometime."

"Will you?" asked Neville as they walked back to the castle later. "Ask your father if he changed how Zelda looked?"

"No, probably not." Ray was squinting up at the setting sun. "I know he must have, so there's no point." He scratched his arm, frowning. "I need to get back to the dorm, there's something I have to do."

Saturday was fair and sunny, with barely any clouds at all. As Ray had predicted, Zelda was nowhere to be seen when they got up that morning. He peered under his bed. "She's there," he announced. "And doesn't look like she wants company. And since she's got claws and sharp teeth and I don't, it's usually best to do what she wants."

"But can't you control her?" asked Ron. "Make her do what you want?"

"Usually, yes," said Ray, tapping his wrist, where he wore a green leather bracelet inscribed with symbols. "But on her den days, I don't think even my father would try. She's very grouchy."

A snarl came from under the bed.

"As you see."

The boys spent the morning outdoors, chasing each other and lounging in the sun, and the afternoon doing homework in the Gryffindor common room. Halfway through his Potions homework, Ron realized he needed to look at the label on one of the bottles of ingredients in the dorm. "I'll be right back," he said, standing up. No one even noticed.

As he climbed the stairs, Ron realized something was slightly out of place. Not anything he could see, no, this was something he could hear...

A girl's voice. He could hear a girl's voice, talking and humming. He shouldn't be able to – the girls had their own stairs leading to their own dorms.

And as he got closer, he realized that the voice was coming from inside his own dorm...

He opened the door quietly and peered around it.

She was dancing in the middle of the floor. Her robes were blue, not Hogwarts black, and looked rather worn. Her feet were bare, and her brown frizzy hair was everywhere at once. She was about his own age, but she was no one Ron had ever seen before. He stared at her, fascinated.

Suddenly, she seemed to realize she had an audience. She whirled, and one hand went to her pale throat as her eyes widened in fear.

"I won't hurt you," said Ron quickly, opening the door all the way to show that he wasn't hiding anything behind it. "Only – who are you?"

Instead of answering, the girl backed away, hands up in a warding gesture, feeling her way back with her feet on the floor. "Go away," she said in a hoarse voice. "Please, go away."

"Why? This's my dorm, I live here. What are you doing here?"

"Just..." She seemed stumped for an answer. "Just being. And practicing magic." She drew a wand out of her robes and pointed it at him. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow," she chanted. "Turn your robes and hair bright yellow."

Ron felt a little whoosh of magic go past him and looked down to see that his robes had, indeed, turned yellow. He ran across the room to the mirror and stared. "I look like Ray!"

"No, you don't." She was standing two beds away from him, regarding him through the open curtains. "You look like you, only with yellow hair and robes. Finite."

The reflection in the mirror now had the familiar Weasley red hair, and Ron could see for himself that his robes were black again. "Thank you," he said. "It's very nice of you."

"You're welcome." She slid the wand away again. "And you're welcome for saving your life. Or at least your face."

"Saving my... what are you talking about?"

"When I knocked you over in Potions yesterday."

"When you..." Ron cut off at the sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs. Ray erupted into the room, looked from one of them to the other, and moaned, dropping his face into his hands.

"That's right, just stand there and don't do anything useful," the girl snapped with one of the most abrupt mood changes Ron had ever seen, even from his mother. "Don't shut the door or anything like that."

Ray turned to do just that, but before he could reach the door, Harry and Neville had appeared in the doorway, gaping at the intruder in their bedroom.

"Who's she?" asked Neville. "And how'd she get in here?"

Harry came into the room, looking at the girl. "Have we met?" he asked. "You look familiar."

"It's the eyes," said Ray from behind his hands. "The eyes are the same."

Ron, Harry, and Neville promptly all looked at the girl's eyes. They did remind Ron of something. Soft hazel, bright, intelligent, amused... and she'd said that about knocking him down in Potions...

"Zelda!" he blurted.

The girl smiled, a little shyly, and nodded.

Ray was now leaning against the door he'd closed. "This is a disaster," he said weakly.

"No, this is not a disaster," said Zelda, sticking out her tongue and staring at him. He stared back at her, and they held eye contact for a long moment, then dropped it.

"No wonder you wanted everyone to leave her alone," said Harry.

"And no wonder she's so bloody smart," said Ron, suddenly angry for no reason he could imagine. "Your pet wolf is a human!"

"She's not my pet!" shouted Ray, glaring at him. "She's never been!"

"Then what is she?" asked Neville rationally, looking from girl to boy.

"She's..." Ray looked at Zelda. "She's... well... she's something like my sister. We didn't have the same parents or anything..."

"Obviously," interpolated Zelda. "I mean, just look at us. We don't look a thing alike."

"But we've been together since we were babies. That much is true." Ray sat down on the foot of his bed. "Zel got hit with a bad curse during the war. She was just a baby then, and no one knew what it would do to her. It turned out to do two things."

"It makes me change shapes when the sun rises and sets," said Zelda. "Human during the day, wolf at night."

"But you've been a wolf all the time we've seen you," said Harry. "Day and night. Why?"

"The other thing that happened," said Ray, "was that every time she changed, her body got a little older. Older than it should. So if she'd just kept changing all the time, she would have died of old age by the time she was twenty."

"It's because wolves age faster than humans," said Zelda. "They had to find a way to keep me from changing, and they found a potion I could take – but it would only work if I kept my wolf form, not my human one."

"That's better than dying at age twenty, though," said Neville.

Zelda nodded. "That was what my parents thought too. But the potion has bad side effects if I take it too long without a break. So about once a month, I have to have one day where I change normally."

"But then how'd you end up with Ray?" asked Ron. "Following him around, being his sort-of pet?"

Zelda looked at the floor. "My parents were killed later in the war," she said. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy took me in and made me Ray's guardian so I could earn my keep. It's not like it's bad, I mean, I'm at school, I can learn, and at least I'm alive."

"So that's why the Hat Sorted you," said Harry. "Because you're really human."

Zelda smiled. "I guess I am." Her smile vanished. "But you can't tell anyone about me. No one, do you understand? No one at all."

"But..." Ron began to protest. "Professor McGonagall has to know... you ought to be in the girls' dorm... you ought to be a student..."

Zelda shook her head. "I'm not old enough," she said. "My birthday's not until the middle of the month, I really shouldn't be here until next year. But that doesn't matter. Please, you have to promise not to tell anyone, anyone, that I'm human. You have to."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Because if you tell anyone, she might die," said Ray quietly. "That was one of the effects of the curse. If anyone knew she was human, or said her name out loud, she'd die."

"But... we've been saying her name," said Neville, looking baffled. "You said it yourself... or does it not count if it's a nickname?"

Ray smiled a little sheepishly. "Well, Zelda's not actually her real name," he said. "Though it's the only one I've ever called her by. If we ever do get that curse off, I'm going to have a hard time remembering to call you the other one," he added to her.

"I'll be sure to remind you," she said, baring her teeth at him for a moment.

"What is her real name, then?" asked Ron.

"We can't tell you that," said Zelda, looking at him down her nose. "Unless you want me to die."

"But you said if anyone knew she was human," protested Ron. "And we've all just found out right now."

"Well, it's not quite if anyone found out," said Ray slowly, as if he were thinking it through. "I think it's more like if we tell anyone. You all found out on accident. And she's not dead yet, so I think we're okay."

"I like that," said Zelda acidly. "Not dead yet."

"You're not."

Zelda took a swipe at him, which he dodged. "So you understand why you can't tell anyone," he said, looking around at them. "It means her life. Really, it does. You have to swear, wizard's honor, not to tell."

Harry held up his hand. "On my word as a wizard, I will never tell anyone Zelda is a human," he said. Neville echoed him.

Ron looked at Zelda. "I want you to promise something first," he said.

"What?"

"Don't look when I'm changing my clothes?"

Zelda laughed. "All right. I promise. Witch's honor."

Ron held up his right hand and gave his word not to tell anyone that Draco Malfoy's sort-of pet wolf was really a human.

"It was me in Potions, by the way," said Zelda a little later, when they were all sitting around talking. "I can talk when I'm the wolf. But it comes out in your mind, not in your ears." She brightened. "I can talk to you all now, now that you know!"

"She's really helpful in class," said Ray. "She's read all my books, and I think she has them memorized. She always knows the answers to everything."

They talked for a long time, with occasional breaks for snacks (Ray had a large stash in his trunk, including drinks in miniature potion bottles). At sunset, Zelda returned Ray his wand, and all four boys watched in fascination as she lay down on the floor on her side, squirmed, writhed, twisted, and finally got back up again, sleek and furry and grey.

"Does it hurt?" asked Neville.

Not really. I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt. It sort of itches when my fur grows, though.

Ray scratched his leg furiously. "That's probably fleas," he said. "And you gave them to me."

HEY! Harry, Ron, and Neville winced as Zelda's furious shout exploded in their minds. Sorry, she said quickly, looking apologetically around at them. I keep forgetting you're not used to this.

Ron shook his head. "I think it's going to take me a long time to get used to it," he said. "A very long time."

Later that night, Harry couldn't sleep. Zelda's face was still bothering him. He didn't buy Ray's story that he'd recognized her eyes from her wolf form. He'd seen her face before somewhere, or a face very like it, but he just couldn't remember where...

His eyes drifted shut, and he fell into dreams, dreams of the way his life should have been, dreams where he had parents, where Padfoot had never had to hide, where Wormtail had never gone bad, and where the little girl who lived at number seventeen, Privet Drive, was not named Meghan Black, but something entirely different.

(A/N: So, I hope this answers some of the questions about Zelda. And if you believed all that stuff she and Ray were spinning to the other boys, I have a bridge to sell you...

Sorry about LwoD. It will be ready before this weekend is over, I promise. I thought I was going to write it tonight, I swear I did, but this insisted on being written instead! I will really try to get it going as soon as possible... and remember, reviews make everything more possible...)