(PoA) CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Liar, Liar

Everything was falling apart.

It was December now. Ellie had sent Woodstock with a letter to Sirius as soon as Harry confirmed he was on their side, but she hadn't heard back yet, nor seen any sign of him. Harry wasn't speaking to her, of course, and while Ron and Hermione didn't actively take sides, she certainly saw much less of them than she had before the breakup. Even Fred seemed at a loss for words around her.

Oliver, of course, was still Oliver. He gave it a few weeks before approaching her about the breakup, probably out of respect for his favourite Seeker, then upped his usual flirty antics by at least thirty percent. She tried to laugh and smile and go along with them, but she had a hard time of it. She was having a hard time of just about everything lately.

And then there was Buckbeak. Her favorite hippogriff had been assigned a court date with the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, and, in all likelihood, would lose his case. Hagrid was devastated, of course. Ellie had no idea what to say to console him, but she visited him and the hippogriff often. She found peace with Buckbeak—a kind of peace she didn't have much left of anymore.

Two weeks before the end of term, Neville Longbottom approached her in the common room.

"Wotcher, Ellie?" He sounded nervous. "Got a minute?"

She blinked up at him, pleasantly surprised by the question. Everyone else in the common room seemed to be avoiding her like the Plague. "Of course. Do you want to sit?"

He nodded, taking a careful seat on the sofa next to her. "Listen… I know we're not exactly friends, but… I thought you seemed like maybe you could use one."

She wasn't sure what made her heart ache worse—that he didn't consider Ellie his friend, or that he seemed to be the only person at Hogwarts who cared about her misery. "That's really nice, Neville," she said, forcing a smile. "You're right—I could. And if we aren't friends, I'd like to be."

He smiled at that. "Me, too. Shall we start with what's got you down, then? 'Better out than in,' my Grams always says—goes for words as well as, you know… other stuff."

She managed a laugh at that. "Honestly? It's no one thing. It's a whole slew of equally confusing and miserable things. Mainly, though… I guess it's Harry."

"Because he broke your heart?"

That was a tough question, she mused as she sank deeper into the couch. "He did," she finally said. "But I think I broke his even worse, without meaning to. So I can't exactly blame him."

"Maybe it isn't about blame. Maybe closure is more important than blame."

"Closure?" she repeated. "But… how am I supposed to get closure? He won't even look at me, let alone talk to me."

"There is a way you could get him to do both of those, you know. A way you can get the whole school to do both of those."

Her eyes widened when she realized what he was referring to: a song.


"Let me get this straight," Fred said a few minutes later as he, George, and Ginny joined Ellie and Neville by the fire. "Not only are you struck with the sudden inspiration to make music, and the recently distinguished desire to glow your best friend via your locket, but Neville Longbottom has become your musical guru?"

"Locket goes both ways," she reminded him pointedly. "Haven't exactly been hearing much from you either lately, Weasley."

He stiffened at that, holding her gaze as if contemplating whether to explain himself or apologize. But before he had the chance, Neville explained, "The song will bring her closure."

"Closure?" repeated Ginny curiously. "As in, it'll help you get over Harry?"

"In theory," muttered Ellie as she whipped out a quill and parchment. "Now, I'm thinking slow, rhythmical, and sort of haunting, but powerful. Think Amy Winehouse—Back to Black."

As Fred, George, and Ginny got to work on the instrumentals, Ellie got to work on the lyrics. She didn't share her work with any of them except Neville, who whispered several pointers and suggestions that were surprisingly spot-on. Within the hour, they were rehearsing the instrumentals; another hour later, they were ready.

"Dare we ask permission?" asked Ginny as they gathered up their things. "Or do we just… go for it?"

"Go for it," the twins said simultaneously.

"We'll play in the courtyard tomorrow," said Ellie. "We can spread the word by then, right?"

"Sure," said Fred. "Any chance of us hearing the lyrics before then, or are you going to do that whole keep-it-secret-to-the-last-minute thing you love to torture us with?"

She let her grin speak for itself on that one.


The next afternoon, she found herself staring out at the faces of at least a quarter of the school—but not the face of the one person the song was about.

"It's not for him," Neville reminded her as she and the band finished setting up. "It's for you. Closure. Remember?"

She smiled. "You know, Neville, one of these days, I'm going to return the favor. Promise you'll come to me the next time you have girl problems?"

He laughed out loud at that, then said, "Promise."

They were set up and ready to go by then. Ellie performed the usual magnification spell on her voice, then announced to the courtyard, "This song is dedicated to Neville Longbottom—a friend I wish I'd found a lot sooner."

A mixture of confused mutterings and cheers erupted throughout the crowd.

"It's about someone else," she said, "but also… it's about me. It's called Liar, Liar."

She had meant it when she said it was about her. The song was about betrayal—all of the words and promises she and Harry had made to each other and subsequently broken—but it was as much about the way she had hurt him as the way he had hurt her. She had tried to make that apparent in her choice of words—bit by bit you felt the draft; I just sat back and watched it burn—while still voicing her own pain—tell me you'll love me like a star; tell me you'll want me wherever you are; tell me you'll breathe me 'til your last breath; liar, liar.

Somewhere during the course of the song, she spotted him. He didn't come out into the courtyard with the rest of the students, but hung back beneath the awning, watching her from a distance. He didn't look angry, she noted with a hint of relief. He looked… accepting.

Like maybe the song provided closure for him, too.


Their house-mates threw another party for them in the common room that night, but Ellie wasn't in the mood. Oliver hadn't taken his eyes off her once since the concert, and she wasn't in the mood to pretend to entertain his flirtations. She had gotten the closure she needed from performing the song, but she was left feeling a strange sort of… emptiness.

And it didn't help that she still hadn't heard back from Sirius.

She crept out to the picnic table by Hagrid's in her dog form, wanting to be near him at least in that way if not in the real one.

To her surprise, Fred showed up only a few minutes later.

"You shouldn't be here," she said when she saw him. "We aren't supposed to be out this late."

"Like that's ever stopped us." He took a seat next to her, scanning her face carefully. "That was an incredible song, you know. Your best one yet."

She smiled weakly. "Thanks."

"What's going on, El? You still seem so… down."

She laughed dryly at that, leaning back against the top of the picnic table to stare up at the sky. "Where should I start? With my dad being AWOL and possibly dead? With my supposed best friend treating me like a distant stranger?"

"Ouch." He leaned back, too, not seeming discouraged by her comment. "I don't think that's true."

"Oh, really? When's the last time we talked, Fred—outside of meaningless squabble about joke merch with George?"

He sighed. "I guess we haven't talked as much as we usually do lately. But I thought that's what you wanted, El. I thought you wanted your space."

"Did you?" She sat back up, suddenly feeling agitated. "Or did you not like the direction things were going in?"

He sat up, too, at that, but he didn't look her in the eye. "I don't know what you mean."

Was he really going to deny it? Was he going to make her say it?

She was sick of hiding—sick of denying. If he wanted her to say it, fine.

"I never should have told you about Sirius and not Harry, Fred. He was my boyfriend. No girl in her right mind would have made that call."

"That's not true. I'm your best friend. He was new; you were young. It's different."

"It wasn't just that. I never treated him like I treated you. You've always been more important. Always. Why do you think that is?"

She wanted him to like hearing these things. She needed him to like hearing these things. She needed him to tell her that he understood what she was saying—that he felt the same way—that he always had.

But he didn't.

"You're just feeling guilty, El. You're worried you broke his heart. You—"

"No," she interrupted firmly, looking him straight in the eyes. "You're wrong."

But she didn't say more than that. Frankly, she didn't see a point. Instead, she rose and walked away from him yet again.


Brave girl, that Ellie... But why is Fred still fighting it? Surely he knows what she's saying, right? The next chapter is probably the most epic one of the entire saga so far (at least, if you care about the same things I do... but I'll stop before I give anything else away!), so make sure not to miss it. And don't forget to REVIEW!