CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Christmas, Part Three

Ellie slowly raised her guitar over her head as she glanced around at her bandmates. Ginny looked amazed; George looked confused; Fred looked elated. She glanced back toward the audience to they all seemed to share the same spectrum of emotions. Not that she blamed them; she herself had no idea what had happened.

Ellie cleared her throat carefully, then nodded at Fred.

"Right," said Fred, glancing back at the audience. He gave an awkward laugh, then said, "Bet you'll never forget this one, will you? Just wait 'til the next one. We're the Weasleys, and Happy Christmas!"

The applause that burst from the audience—all but Draco and his cronies, of course—was so enthusiastic, Ellie's jaw nearly dropped. Apparently the shield had seemed like a grand finale to them more so than a total accident.

Ellie didn't get far off the stage before McGonagall bustled over to her.

"Ellie," McGonagall said seriously. Ellie beamed at the use of her preferred nickname. "Do you know what just happened?"

Ellie glanced behind McGonagall and, seeing that Draco was in hearing range, suggested, "Draco performed a particularly awful spell?"

A few people sniggered at that as Draco glared at her.

"Actually," said McGonagall in an undertone only Ellie could hear, "it means you have discovered the thing you loved the most—and activated the Perelli charm that we suspected you may have."

Ellie's eyes bulged. "My—I—what?"

"I suppose it is music that you love most—or, if not, then it must be being with the Weasleys. At any rate, something you were doing provided you with protection, and that protection kept Mr. Malfoy's spell from hitting you."

So that was the little pang she had felt inside of her—the little, white spark that had gone off when the goo neared her? The Perelli charm?

Her father had really gifted her with two impossible protection spells?

"Y… yes," Ellie stammered. "Thank you, ma'am."

McGonagall smiled and nodded at Ellie before returning over to the other teachers. A few moments later, Dumbledore rose to dismiss them all. "Go and exchange your gifts," he advised. "You may return to the Great Hall in an hour's time for the feast."

Ellie, the twins, Ron, and Harry all walked Molly and Arthur back out toward the lawn from the Great Hall. Ron made the first official introduction between his parents and Harry, though they had met in passing at King's Cross earlier that year.

"Thanks for letting Ginny come and join us," Ellie said eagerly to Molly after the introductions were made. "Are you sure you can't stay longer?"

"I've tried," Ginny assured Ellie. Her cheeks were bright pink—probably on account of her close proximity to Harry, who she appeared to have a major crush on. "It's no use."

"We have Percy and Charlie waiting at home," Arthur explained, "and possibly Bill, too, if he makes it from Egypt in time. I'm delighted we were able to make it out, though. Never seen anything quite like it in all my years—gives me such a hankering to study these Muggle bands you crafted your music after!"

Ellie grinned at Fred and George's eye rolls as she hugged Ginny, Arthur, and Molly goodbye.

"You're looking well, my dear," Molly told her softly as she squeezed Ellie tighter than her own mother ever had. "Hogwarts suits you."

Ellie tried not to tear up at the reminder that this was what it was supposed to feel like to talk to a mother. "Thank you. I really like it here."

"Your mum will come around," Molly promised her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "In the meantime, you've got us as long as you'd like us."

Ellie smiled back at her, thinking to herself that she'd like them just about as close to forever as she could get.


"Being a Weasley has never been cooler," Fred said to Ellie that night as they curled up in the common room in front of the fireplace. George had crashed right after the feast, exhausted from all the festivities, and the rest of the Gryffindors had gone to bed a few hours later. "Thanks for that."

Ellie smiled as she leaned sleepily onto Fred's shoulder, having half a mind to fall asleep right there on the couch. The gift exchange alone had been exhausting; from the over-the-top, jeweled bracelet Oliver had gotten her ("I know, you're young," he had said when he saw her expression; "doesn't mean you don't deserve nice gifts") to the tiny mirror Fred had given her to place in her locket ("so we can see each other when we communicate—like a visual walkie-talkie"), it was all a bit overwhelming.

"She'll write you soon," Fred said softly. "Your mum. I know she will."

She heaved a slow, tired sigh, then asked quietly, "How do you know?"

He moved to put his arm around her. She nestled deep into the crook of his shoulder, deciding that she would fall asleep there, after all. "Because you're you, El," he told her softly. "Because it would be impossible for her not to miss you."


A few nights later, Harry took Ellie aside in the common room to show her something.

"It's an invisibility cloak," he explained as he lifted his robes to show her the shimmering, silvery cloak beneath them. "It was with my Christmas presents with a note that said it belonged to my father and to use it well."

She stared down at it, shocked. "Like… a real one? That makes you invisible?"

He laughed. "Well, yeah—that's the idea. But it didn't say who it was from, and I don't really have any ideas."

"It couldn't have been your aunt and uncle?" she asked him. She vaguely recalled him mentioning how much he had hated them.

He shook his head. "Their gift to me is leaving me alone 'til summer."

She laughed dryly. "I know a little something about that."

He glanced curiously up at her, putting away the cloak for now. "Ron said your mum sent you to live with his family last summer. But he didn't say why."

"Don't reckon he knows why—nor do I, entirely." She bit her lip. "Mum hates magic—has ever since my dad wound up in Azkaban. They weren't together, even before that, but that was… the final straw, so to speak."

He didn't seem to follow. "Azkaban? What's that?"

She had almost forgotten that he, like her, had grown up amongst Muggles—and that he, unlike her, hadn't even had the faintest idea about magic. "It's the high-security wizard prison where they keep the really dark wizards—you know, like the ones who worked for Voldemort."

He seemed surprised to hear her say the Dark Lord's name, though he didn't comment on it. "Your dad, then—was he—?"

"I don't know, exactly," she admitted. "I don't think he was a Death Eater—that is, one of Voldemort's army directly—but it seems he did something terrible, all the same. It's not exactly easy getting answers out of my mum—or anyone else, for that matter."

Harry's green eyes clouded over with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Ellie. That must be hard."

"No harder than what you went through," she said, offering him a smile. "It's nice, isn't it—being here at Hogwarts? Getting away from all that?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah—it is."

They were interrupted by a rapping at the window. Ellie headed over to it, then smiled when she saw Woodstock's beak rapping against the glass. Her Christmas present to Fred had been joint ownership of Woodstock, so it was possible that whatever mail he carried was for Fred. She opened the window and extended an arm for him to perch on, accepting the letter from his beak and scanning it.

Return to sender: Serena Prince.

Fred had been right.


Ellie,

I am sorry it took so long for me to get back to you after your last letter. I had much to consider, but it was never my intention for you to feel unloved or unwanted by me, and for that I apologize.

They did tell me that you changed into a dog, and then, more recently, that you managed to cast a shield without performing a spell. As they undoubtedly told you, it can only mean one thing: that your father cursed you as both an Animagus and a Perelli wielder when you were a baby. Naturally, I am infuriated, but there is little to be done about it. I can only advise that you avoid using those abilities unless absolutely necessary, for your own safety.

As to your other questions—I will do my best to answer. Your father was indeed in Gryffindor, and Ollivander was correct in saying he had never heard of his family name. The name Bretherworth is made-up—a lie I concocted with the help of people like Professor Dumbledore to keep you safe from your father's enemies. Believe me—it is better this way. As to your father being a Death Eater, I'm not sure I know the answer. All I know is that he committed unforgivable acts in service of the Dark Lord, which should be enough for the rest of your questions about him to be silenced.

All of these secrets you are uncovering, and all of these questions you are asking, are exactly why I tried so hard to convince you to stay away from the world of magic. It is for that reason that I have reached out to Molly Weasley again to offer her the same deal we struck last summer for this coming summer. As always, should you decide to renounce Hogwarts and this life you have chosen for yourself, I will welcome you home with open arms. Until then, be safe, Ellie. Be careful. And be vigilant.

Serena


"You okay?" Harry asked her.

She stared down at the letter, feeling as if someone had just grabbed her heart by the fist and squeezed. Serena hadn't even signed it love. She hadn't even said she missed Ellie.

"Y… yeah," she stammered, shaking herself from her sunken reverie. She gave Woodstock a gentle rub of the cheek before letting him back out the window. She didn't want to be with Harry anymore. She liked Harry, but she loved Fred. And she needed love right now. "I think I just need to be alone for a bit."

Harry nodded, getting to his feet. "Ron and I are going to try out the restricted section tomorrow, under the cloak," he told her as he gathered his things. "You're welcome to join, if you'd like."

She nodded, smiling weakly at him as he headed upstairs. As soon as he did, she opened up her locket and glowed Fred.

His face appeared only a second later. "Hey," he said cheerfully. His expression shifted when he saw hers, and his eyebrows narrowed with concern. "You okay?"

She couldn't lie to Fred like she had to Harry, and she wasn't okay. "Can you meet me?" she asked.

"Of course."

He showed up in the common room a few minutes later, eyes full of concern. She handed him the letter, and he scanned it carefully before looking back up at her, sighing, and giving her a hug.

"She's as stubborn as you are," he told her softly, resting his chin on the top of her head and stroking her back. "That's the only reason she didn't say it."

She wanted to believe him, but she wasn't sure. She pulled away from him, rubbing away tears she hadn't even felt fall. "And the rest of it? The fake last name?"

"Well, did any of us really buy that Bretherworth was your name?" he joked weakly. "You're way too cool for that, aren't you?"

She tried to laugh, but she didn't quite manage it. "I don't even know my own name, Fred. I don't even know my father's."

"I know," he said. "But you don't need a last name, El—not really. You're a Weasley, through and through."


The next day was New Year's Eve. Ron was feeling a little under the weather, so he stayed behind while Harry and Ellie used the commotion of the common room celebration to their advantage in sneaking out of the portrait hole beneath the cloak.

She'd given the twins the Cliffnotes version of their plan before hand, of course. The last thing she wanted was to worry Fred when she didn't reply to his locket-glow. Neither twin seemed particularly pleased that she would be getting into trouble without them, but they understood that there wasn't room under the cloak for all of them and told her to be safe.

It might have felt awkward being in such close proximity to a different boy beneath the cloak—like Oliver, for example—but Ellie felt fairly comfortable trudging along with Harry. They made it to the library without being noticed, and to the restricted section from there. Harry hesitated at the door to the restricted section, but Ellie pressed on without hesitation—emboldened, undoubtedly, by all her time with the rulebreaking twins.

They searched in silence for fifteen minutes or so. They couldn't find anything on Nicholas Flamel, but a book called The Philosopher's Stone: Benefits of Immortality caught Ellie's eye, and she pulled it out.

"It's a small stone that can fit in the palm of your hand," she whispered out loud. "Ruby-red in color… gives its master the gift of immortality."

"That must be why Snape's after it," breathed Harry.

She raised an eyebrow, trying to catch up. She'd known that they suspected Snape of treachery, but this? "With the sucko life he lives, why would he want to be immortal?"

He didn't look quite as amused by her joke as the twins would have been.

"Sorry," she muttered. "Just seems a bit strange. Should we take this?"

"No—I think that'd be too risky. We'll come back if we—"

But he stopped talking when they heard a clambering coming from nearby. Ellie's head shot around, and her eyes widened when she saw the shadowy shape of someone approaching them.

She shoved the book back where it had come from, tucked herself fully beneath the cloak with him, and scampered off with him. But they were making far too much noise not to be heard.

"Who's there?" shouted a furious Filch. "I know you're out there!"

They sprinted to a shadowy corner of the room, ensuring that every square inch of them was cloaked before freezing in place. Filch went right past them without seeing them, but Ellie didn't exhale until he was clear across the room.

"Here," Harry whispered once Filch was out of earshot, thrusting open the nearest door to them as quietly as possible. Ellie followed Harry through the door and a series of others until, finally, they reached a room with a mirror in its center.

"Erised," Harry read, scanning the golden-framed mirror with interest. "Have you heard of this before?"

Ellie shook her head, stepping in front of the mirror to scan her reflection in case there was anything unusual about it. She stopped short, eyes bulging, when she saw what looked back at her—or rather, who. She was standing next to a man—a tall, dark, handsome man who looked to be in his early thirties. His hand was on her shoulder, and a warm smile was on his face. He looked like her—had the same dark hair and gray eyes that she did.

He was her father.


Well, now she knows what her father looks like... but that doesn't quite help her with learning his name, does it? We're over the halfway hump of the first story (of which we'll cover all seven, so we're far from over)! Stay tuned, and please remember to review if you are enjoying the story!