CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: The Start of Spring Term
School was back in full blast, and while most people complained about it, Ellie loved it. She was happy to have a distraction from the constant desire to go and see her father's reflection, and, more importantly, she was happy to be practicing Quidditch again.
She and Oliver hadn't talked much since the day of the Weasleys' concert, but he was no less enthusiastic toward her than usual.
"He's always staring at you," Katie told Ellie in the locker room after practice one day. The girls and boys shared the main locker room, aside from the changing and shower areas, but the boys hadn't made it back yet. "Is there something going on there? Would be really bad for team morale, don't you think?"
"Really good for team morale if it lasted," pointed out Angelina with a bit of a grin. "But, given the age difference…"
"Nothing's going on," Ellie said for what felt like the millionth time. "Yes, it's a huge age difference. Twelve versus fifteen. Or is he sixteen?"
"Fifteen," said Oliver cheerfully as he stepped into the locker room to join them. There was a cocky grin on his face. "What's three years, really?"
"Three?" scoffed Angelina. "Try five, if you consider that she's a first year and you're a fifth year."
This time, it was Harry who stepped in at the wrong moment. He stared from Ellie to Oliver, looking confused. "What exactly did I just walk into?"
"All right," said Oliver, clearing his throat and shooting Ellie one last grin as the twins stepped into the locker room behind Harry. "Next game's coming up in February—that's less than a month. Harry—did you ever figure out who was jinxing your broom last time?"
Ellie coughed not-so-discreetly as Harry turned scarlet. He, Ron, and Hermione had let her know shortly after the first game that it was the infamous Professor Snape who had been responsible.
"What?" demanded Oliver impatiently.
"One of the teachers was trying to kill him," said Fred cheerfully. She had, of course, shared the tidbit about Snape with him and George. "I'd say who, but—"
Ellie and George both hit him at the same time.
"Er… right," said Oliver, looking perplexed. He glanced helplessly at Harry. "Reckon it'll happen again, at any rate?"
"Not sure," Harry admitted. "But I've got friends in the stands who handled it last time, and I'll make sure they're close by if it happens again."
"Right." Oliver nodded. "In that case, I'll see you all Thursday. Don't be late."
"Do you think my shield would work while I played Quidditch?" Ellie asked Fred and George at lunch the following week. It was the second Monday of the spring term, and Ellie was finally starting to settle back into a routine.
"Why would you need it?" asked Fred. "You've got us, haven't you?"
She laughed. "Of course. I just wonder if it would work and, y'know, if it would be legal if it did work."
"But you'd have to sing for it to activate, right?" asked George. "Planning on singing your way through a Quidditch match?"
"Wouldn't be legal, anyway," added Fred. "Unfair advantage."
She nodded, not entirely surprised. She chewed her sub for a moment, then cleared her throat and said, "I think I'm ready to go back."
"To go back?" repeated George. "To?"
"To the mirror. You said you wanted to see it, right? I'll take you." She wasn't sure what had made her change her mind, exactly. Boredom, maybe—or, more likely, restlessness.
Fred glanced at George, who shook his head. "I'll pass. I'm sure I'll just see some awesome, unattainable dream that will only depress me."
"Oh, yeah?" teased Ellie. "Like passing Potions this term?"
George shoved her playfully as Fred said, "I'll go."
They used the Marauder's Map to make it safely to the spot where Ellie and Harry had found the mirror over the holidays. Ellie led Fred eagerly over to the mirror, then waited impatiently for him to tell her what he saw.
"I don't get it," he said, staring into the mirror. "I don't see anything special."
She frowned, then, remembering that it only worked for one person at a time, stepped away from his side. For several seconds, his expression remained unaffected until, suddenly, it shifted.
It was hard to tell what he saw, or even what he was thinking. His cheeks were turning pink with embarrassment, to be sure, but there was an unmistakable look of misty-eyed longing that she could only imagine she also wore when she looked into the mirror.
"Well?" she demanded when she couldn't wait any longer. "What do you see?"
It took him a second to tear his eyes away from the glass. When he did, he rubbed a hand through his messy, red hair, looking awkward. "Just, y'know, me and George. Working at Zonko's."
She crossed her arms, feeling skeptical. "Seriously?"
"That not good enough for you?" he teased. "We don't all have long-lost, convict fathers to see in the mirror, you know."
She smiled weakly at that, but she still wasn't particularly convinced. Still, if he didn't want to tell her, she couldn't make him. "You know, I'm a little offended I'm not in your little Zonko's fantasy. I'm pretty decent at Charms."
He made a bit of a strangled, unreadable expression at that, then put an arm around her and passed it off as a laugh. "If you want to be at Zonko's at us, you will be," he assured her. "I just suspect you might end up doing bigger and better things, Bretherworth."
"Yeah," she said, wrapping her own arms around him and giving him a hug. "Like finally figuring out what my real last name is so people will stop calling me Bretherworth."
They ran into Draco and his minions on the way back from the mirror.
"How cute—the welfare case and the brother her mummy bought her," he sneered when he saw them. "Weasley, I do hope your parents were compensated fairly for such a burdensome task."
Fred whirled around, looking furious. Draco hadn't had the nerve to pick on Ellie in front of him before; usually he stuck to his own year.
"What's the problem?" Draco asked Fred with a smirk. "Cat got your tongue? Wait, I forgot—the only pets your family has are rats."
Fred moved to pounce on him at that, but Ellie held him back. "What're you going to do, Draco? Challenge him to a duel? Oh, wait—last time you did that, you chickened out."
Draco's face went very pale.
"Crabbe, Goyle—I wouldn't hang out with him if I were you," Ellie warned Draco's cronies. "Couple more wimp-outs and he'll have no street cred left."
"I didn't wimp out!" Draco nearly shouted.
"Oh? Did your beloved Snape stop you? Funny—I'd expect him to encourage you."
"Ellie?" asked Harry, catching up to them in the hall. It was as if he had a sixth sense for Draco drama. "What's going on here?"
"I was just telling Draco and his friends here that he's a miserable coward, and that a thousand of him wouldn't amount to a single Weasley—or Potter, for that matter—no matter how much money he has."
A crowd had started to gather, and they all looked notably impressed by her insult.
"Let's go," Draco muttered to Crabbe and Goyle. He sent Ellie one final glare and said through clenched teeth, "You'll regret this, Bretherworth."
"I might," Ellie told Fred and Harry with a small grin, "if my name was actually Bretherworth."
And she winked at them as she headed for her next class.
She and Harry were both a few minutes late for Potions that day, but, to her surprise and relief, Snape was even later.
"Saw you and Malfoy in the hall on the way here," Dean said to Ellie with a grin as she took her seat next to him and Seamus. "Looked interesting."
She rolled her eyes. "Draco's a loser and a waste of space."
Snape came in before Dean or Seamus could agree with her. "I was delayed for private reasons. Let us begin."
Whatever was going on with Snape, he was distracted enough not to notice Dean, Ellie, and Seamus' whisperings during his lecture. Ellie had almost forgotten that the match against Hufflepuff was fast approaching, but Dean and Seamus seemed intent on grilling her about it.
"Is Wood going mad with intensity again?" asked Seamus eagerly. "I hear he gets absolutely mental about winning."
"Kind of," she admitted, and laughed. "In a good way, though."
Dean raised an eyebrow at that as Seamus teased, "Right—forgot you had a crush on him."
She rolled her eyes, wishing for the millionth time that everyone would lay off the rumors and teasings about her and Oliver.
Dean and Seamus walked Ellie to practice after class, and she enjoyed getting the chance to catch up with them. They exchanged amused glances when they saw that Oliver was the only other person yet on the pitch, then hugged her goodbye and took their leave of her.
"Hey," Oliver greeted her once the other two were gone. "Trade your usual posse in for those two, or are they just temporary?"
She laughed. "I always sit with them in Potions—they just walked me from there. Speaking of which—did you notice how weird Snape seemed today?"
"Actually, yeah." Oliver's eyebrows furrowed at that, and she could tell he was thinking the same thing she was. At the same time, they both said, "Harry."
"Right here," said a voice from behind them as Harry approached. "Talk about me often?"
"Sorry," Ellie said, laughing. "We were just saying how odd Snape was today, and worrying that it might suggest he's planning on trying something again at the game."
Harry shrugged, not looking concerned. "I noticed it, too, but I don't think it has to do with me. Anyway, like I said, Ron and Hermione will be ready to stop him if he tries to pull anything like that again."
Oliver nodded at that, seeming satisfied, but Ellie wasn't so sure. She didn't like the thought of anyone messing with her friends—Snape least of all.
Some good bonding going on in this chapter, especially Ellie and Fred - aren't they just the cutest? The next chapter will cover the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor game, among other things, so make sure not to miss it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!
