BOOK THREE: THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN
CHAPTER ONE: Escape From Azkaban!
Ellie made it exactly one week before succumbing to the midnight glows that Fred sent to her locket and meeting him downstairs for a sub.
She had hoped to last longer—maybe even the whole summer. She cared about her relationship with Harry too much to allow herself to fall victim to the confusing whirlwind of emotions she felt when she was alone with Fred Weasley… at least, she thought she did.
But she couldn't stop thinking about that letter, and she had to tell someone.
"Tell me," Fred said when she stepped into the kitchen with him. "Did you sleep through all my other glows this week, or was it a bit more… intentional… than that?"
She wished he wouldn't ask her questions like that. Really, what was she supposed to say? Didn't he know that she couldn't lie to him? "I'm just trying to be a good girlfriend," she said reluctantly. "Midnight snacks with other boys doesn't exactly scream 'loyalty.'"
"Yeah, but it's me," he pointed out as he put their subs into the magical toaster. "Don't you get a free pass when it's your best friend?"
Did she? Harry and Fred had always been friendly, hadn't they? Other than a few rather tame quips at Fred when they had first started dating, Harry had given her no indication that he was jealous of Fred. Compared to her relationship with Dean Thomas earlier the previous year, they didn't seem to have any envy issues at all.
"I guess," she said quietly.
Fred watched her intently for several seconds before whipping their subs back out of the toaster and leading her out into the garden. Once they were seated, he said, "I can tell when something's up with you, El. And it's not about Harry or me, is it?"
She'd be lying if she said her confusing mess of emotions wasn't tied to him or Harry at all, but, of course, he was right to sense that there was more. She sighed, reaching into her back pocket and surfacing the crumpled-up letter that she'd now read at least a hundred times.
"It's from my mum," she explained as she handed it to him. "Hand-delivered to Hogwarts."
"You've had this that long, and you didn't tell me?" asked Fred, sounding more surprised than offended.
She shrugged, and he turned his attention toward the letter. He read in silence for several minutes before finally looking back up at her.
"The thing about bringing you with him that night," he said. "And leaving you there. That's the part that's getting to you, isn't it?"
Of course, he'd deduced that instantly. He always seemed to deduce everything instantly. "Yeah. I think it's true. I sort of… remember it. Bits and pieces, at least."
"Doesn't mean there isn't an explanation, though. If we're already operating off the assumption that there's an explanation for the rest."
She supposed that was a decent point. Already, she was glad she'd shared this with him—glad, yet guilty.
"There's good things in here, too," he pointed out. "She confirmed his identity—that's huge. And the story she told? Kind of… romantic, isn't it?"
She had thought so, too, though she was surprised that he agreed. "You don't think it's more… tragic than romantic?"
"Tragic, sure," he admitted. "But, then, all the best romances are."
She tried not to think too hard on that one as she chewed the rest of her sub in silence.
Unlike the previous summer, Harry was writing to her. Within the first two weeks, she'd already received three letters from him, each of which brought a smile to her face.
"Give him a hug for me," she told Woodstock as she tied her latest letter to his leg.
Before sending him, though, she froze.
A great, black dog was staring at her from across the front lawn of the Burrow.
She stared back at it, frozen still, as her heart began to pound. The dog looked far too much like her to be a random stray; the only logical explanation was that he was him, right?
Only… how was that logical? Her father was locked away in Azkaban.
She took a deep breath, then shifted into her own animal form. Woodstock gave a screech of fear at that, fluttering off with her letter to Harry. When Ellie turned her attention back to the great, black dog, it was gone.
"Can't say I see many dogs in these parts, besides you," said Fred later that day when she asked him about it. "Especially big, scraggly black ones. You're sure you weren't imagining things?"
"I'm sure," she said impatiently. "Is there any other explanation? Like a spell, or something?"
"Well, the Patronus Charm casts animals, but they'd be all silvery and glowing. And then there's the whole Grim thing, but—"
"What Grim thing?"
"Well, it's stupid, really—just Professor Trelawney's way of scaring her students, I'd wager. But she says that the big, black dog is the Grim—the mystical representation of death."
"Great," said Ellie, hanging her head. "So, what, now that I've seen the Grim, I'll die in seven days?"
Fred didn't seem to catch herreference to The Ring. He looked frustratingly amused by her concern. "Don't worry, El—George and I see our Grim several times a week in you, and we're alive."
The first week of July, the story broke. Ellie stepped out the front door of the Burrow to tie her latest letter to Woodstock's leg when she saw it, lying there on their front porch: The Daily Prophet. And the front-page story: Escape from Azkaban!, accompanied by the all-too-familiar mugshot of Sirius Black.
She stood there, staring in disbelief at the article for one second, then two, then three, when, suddenly—
"El? What's…"
But Fred trailed off when he followed her gaze to the paper.
"It was him," she whispered.
Suddenly, he grabbed her so sharply by the arm, she almost cried out. He yanked her upstairs to his bedroom, spat at George to give them the room, and slammed the door closed.
She had never seen him like this. He looked… wild-eyed. Terrified. Almost… manic.
"We have to tell them," he said. "Mum and Dad. I mean, I think they know, but we have to tell him that you know."
She wasn't entirely sure she followed what he was saying. "What does it matter if they know that I know?"
"They have to protect you, El. We have to protect you."
"From what? From him? Fred, I've already seen him. He didn't try to kill me. He isn't evil, remember? We've found too many signs—"
"You don't know that," he interrupted sharply. "It was all fine and dandy to go along hoping he was innocent when he was behind bars, but this is different. For all you know, he'll try to kill you. He'll—"
"Fred." She was trying her best not to laugh. "You need to calm down."
"Calm down?" he demanded. "Is… are you… how can you be laughing right now?"
Ellie wasn't entirely sure of that answer, herself. She supposed a bit of the mania that was overtaking him had found its way into her, too. She was happy, was the bottom line. No matter who her father was or what he had done, she was glad he wasn't in that place anymore, surrounded by those awful Dementors.
Before she had the chance to explain that to Fred, though, she heard the unmistakable voice of the very last person she expected to hear shouting up at her from the foyer.
"Ellie!"
It was her mother.
Hitting the ground running with this one, aren't we? How's Serena going to react to knowing that her baby daddy is now an escaped convict? And did Fred overreact a bit, or what? I'll go ahead and warn you that this third book is where things REALLY heat up in quite a number of different ways, so believe me when I tell you you won't want to miss a moment of it. Keep the reviews coming to show your support, and thanks for reading!
