(PoA) CHAPTER ELEVEN: Sweet Little Ellie

The next week wasn't exactly a ball of fun. Draco returned to class, seemingly fully cured, but complained loudly and often about his wounds, even going so far as to use them as an excuse to make others do his work for him in Snape's class. Even worse, he had started to tease Harry about Sirius Black and how he must want "revenge" after "what he did."

"He's talking about Sirius betraying your dad," Ellie explained in a hushed tone to Harry during Potions, though she suspected he already knew that. "But I told you—I don't think it's true. Remember what he—"

"—said last Christmas with the Polyjuice Potion, yeah, I remember," grumbled Harry, who sounded frustrated. "It explains it, though, Ellie—the reason Mr. Weasley told me not to go looking for Black—even the reason Fudge was acting so strange."

"Well, they're all wrong," said Ellie a little too firmly. "So just ignore them."

Harry shot her a sideways glance at that, clearly a bit thrown by her insistence, and she blushed and avoided his gaze as Snape came over to kindly instruct them to shut up.


"I liked him, for what it's worth," said Fred a few nights later as they sat by the fire. Ellie had tried to keep these meetings to a minimum, especially given the weirdness with Harry, but she and Fred had barely had the chance to speak since their visit to Sirius' pit, and she was dying to know what he thought.

"Really," said Ellie, finding it hard to believe. Fred hadn't exactly been rude to Sirius, but he hadn't been exceptionally nice to him, either. "Could've fooled me."

"Well, I still haven't entirely decided whether or not I trust him. Really, El, with you seeming to have jumped right on board the Sirius train, don't you think it's for the best that one of us remains vigilant?"

She rolled her eyes, but she supposed he had a point. "Fine, then. What did you like about him?"

"Well, I liked that he wasn't half as terrifying as the pictures of him, for starters—largely thanks to you, I'm sure. I liked the way he looks at you—like he's proud of you, and just a little bit amazed by you."

She bit her lip, trying not to blush. She certainly didn't mind the sound of that.

"I don't like what he nearly did to Snape, though," Fred added. "I'm not exactly Snape's biggest fan, but he went too far, El, and that scares me a little. For your sake."

She nodded, thinking back on the words the Hat had said to both her and her father about anger and passion. She had never told anyone about it before. Could she find the courage to tell Fred now?

What didn't she tell Fred these days?

"The Hat… told me something else," she said carefully. "The night it put me in Gryffindor. Something I never told you."

Fred watched her curiously, waiting.

"He told me that he could see certain traits of my dad's in me—like his courage, and his power. But then he said… Such passion, though—and an anger that could explode, if left unchecked."

Fred stared at her for several seconds, then, suddenly, burst out laughing.

She stared at him, genuinely surprised by the outburst. "What's so funny?"

"It's just… it's you, El," he said, struggling to contain himself. "Sweet little Ellie. I can't exactly picture you trying to kill anyone—even Draco Malfoy."

She didn't much care for the sound of that—sweet little Ellie. Was that what she was to everyone? "You don't think I'm like him?" she asked quietly.

His smile faded, and he scooted quickly over her, surprising her by taking her hands in his. "That's not what I said, El. I think you're a lot like him. Smart—bold—too attractive for your own good." She blinked in surprise at that one, but he had already moved on to the next. "And eager to protect the ones you love. Just not cruel, El. And that's a good thing."


"Thanks to some apparent injury to their Seeker's arm," Oliver announced to the team Thursday evening after practice, "our first game this year will be against Hufflepuff, not Slytherin."

They all groaned at that. "It was barely a scratch to begin with!" objected Harry. "Not to mention, it's fully healed already!"

"Not exactly a surprise, given how wimpy the boy plays," said Oliver, looking annoyed. "Just an excuse for them to research how we play this season, I'm sure. Or to avoid the inclement weather. But let them stall all they want—won't change the outcome."

"I heard Diggory spent the whole summer playing with the Chudley Cannons," said Angelina. "His dad's got some sort of in with their coach."

"Diggory?" repeated Harry, growing pale. "As in Cedric Diggory?"

"As in the Hufflepuff Seeker," affirmed Oliver. "I'd heard the same thing, Ange—though I was determined to believe it wasn't true."

Ellie wasn't determined to do much of anything regarding Cedric Diggory except stare at his beautiful face; he was like a painting. But she didn't dare voice that opinion out loud.

"For any of you who may have forgotten," Oliver told them, "this is my last year at Hogwarts. And I'll be damned if I let anyone but us with the Cup this year."

As if he would have let them forget, she mused grimly.

"We've got this, Oliver," Katie told him enthusiastically.

"Yeah, Ollie," said Fred. "In the words of Muggle rock god Mick Jagger, you can't always get what you want—" he glanced pointedly at Ellie with a smirk "—but if you try sometime, you'll find you get what you need."

"And God only knows he needs this win," finished George with a grin as they all headed back to the castle.


The next day, Ellie forced herself to be brave and face what she'd been avoiding all week: talking to Lupin again.

His classes had been incredible, to say the least. He was nothing like any of the other Defense teachers they'd had; he was much more hands-on, and much more invested in the long-term success of his students. He was smart, kind, and gentle with his words, and she actually found herself liking her father better for having ever been friends with him in the first place.

"Professor," she said as soon as class let out. She sent Harry a gentle, go on without me kind of smile, which he returned with a smaller, warier smile. She made a note to try and have at least something of a heart-to-heart with him as soon as possible.

"Yes, Ellie?" asked Lupin—one of the few teachers who actually honored her request for them to call her Ellie.

"I need to talk to you." She cleared her throat and crossed her arms. "About him."

Lupin's demeanor instantly changed, though he seemed determined to force his concerns back. "Okay," he said slowly. "About what, specifically?"

Start slow, right? She couldn't reveal to Lupin that she had Sirius' memories without at least hinting that she'd been talking to him, and she couldn't do that without first deciding for herself whether or not she could trust him. "I think they're wrong about him," she said carefully. "I think there's another explanation."

As expected, Lupin didn't exactly look convinced. "Ellie, I understand the desire to prove your father's innocence, but that's just it—there already is proof, against him."

"Just… hear me out. You've heard that Harry and I battled Lord Voldemort together, right? Two years in a row?"

Lupin gave a short, careful nod at that.

"Well, the first year, he said something I would never forget. Kill the girl—she's just as worthless as her father."

This time, Lupin's expression did shift. Again, though, he seemed determined to hide it. "I don't pretend to know what the Dark Lord considers 'worth,' Ellie. I'm sorry, but it's not exactly blaring proof of his innocence."

"It's not just that. Last Christmas, Harry, Ron, and I sort of… found a way to trick Draco Malfoy into thinking we were his friends." She avoided his rather pointed look of chastisement at that. "He said his father Lucius told him that there was an epic mix-up involved in Sirius' arrest—that they got the wrong person."

"Ellie." Lupin sighed, running a hand through his unkempt, brown hair. She could tell that, at least on some level, he wanted to believe her; it just wasn't enough. "Your father was my best friend. I loved him very much. I spent years trying to come up with any version of what happened that might explain or excuse what he did. But there isn't one."

"No," she heard herself say. "You just haven't found it yet."

He held her gaze for a moment, then said in a low, dark, voice, "You've seen him. Haven't you?"

No turning back now, she thought grimly as she reached into the pocket of her robes for the little vial of Sirius' memories and pulled it out. "Come into the Pensieve with me. Watch with me. We'll learn what happened together."

He stared at the vial, transfixed and amazed, then back to her, expression cold and resolute. "We can't. It could be a trick. It could be dangerous."

"I've already done it once. He showed me what it was like to fall in love with my mother—to have me."

Lupin looked baffled. "And Albus? He just… let you?"

"I didn't tell him what it was for. But, yes—he said that as long as I wasn't alone, he'd allow me to use it. I haven't exactly asked for a round two yet, but I'm guessing that, if I bring you along…"

Lupin seemed to understand. His jaw tightened as he seemed to consider the offer. "Albus has taken a great chance on me, Ellie. Did he… did Sirius tell you the truth about me?"

Ellie nodded. "He did. And I understand why you don't want to betray Dumbledore. But it's not betrayal. It's just… finding answers."

Lupin heaved a sigh, then nodded. "Very well, then. Let's find some answers."


"Back again, Miss Prince?" asked Dumbledore when Ellie and Lupin reached his office. He glanced curiously up at Lupin, and added, "And with Remus this time?"

"It's the last time, Professor—honest," said Ellie. "Just let us use it this once, and I'll never ask again."

"Sir," said Remus a bit anxiously. "I'll make sure she's safe. I promise."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that," Dumbledore assured him. "I certainly have my curiosities as to what you both are going to be learning, of course."

For a split second, Ellie considered letting Dumbledore join them, too. If these memories proved Sirius innocent, shouldn't he know?

But Dumbledore was different from Lupin. Dumbledore owed it to his students, their parents, and even the Ministry of Magic to report any sightings or stirrings of Sirius Black, no matter what they were; even his silence on this matter, let alone his help, was more than she could ask for. After all, if he knew she was Sirius' daughter, surely he knew, on some level, what she was doing.

"When there's something worth telling, we'll tell you, Professor," she said. Not the most honest thing she'd ever said, but better than an outright lie. "We just have some things to figure out ourselves first."

"Very well," said Dumbledore, rising to his feet and heading for the door. "I'll go and have another chat with Minerva. I do hope she doesn't tire of me."

And with that, Ellie and Lupin were left alone with the Pensieve.


Love Lupin, too - just not quite as much as I love Sirius. The next chapter, "The Secret-Keeper Switch," will have a bunch more memory scenes. If you enjoy those, great! If not, don't worry - it's the last one! And, as always... review, review, review!