(GoF) CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Dolohov
Cedric didn't rush to confront Ellie about the missed date, nor did she rush to apologize to him. She did her best to focus on the more important matters—namely, finding a way to resist the Imperius Curse. Thankfully, Moody proved sympathetic to her determination, and spent more time helping her than the average student. She still hadn't quite gotten the hang of it, but she was at least at the point where she could put up a decent fight.
On one of the first mornings of October, she and Cedric crossed paths on a staircase. She hesitated, not entirely sure he'd want to speak to her. To her surprise, though, he approached her.
"Hey," he said a bit cautiously as he stepped a respectful distance over to her. "Missed you the other night."
"Right," she said, biting her lip. "About that—I'm really sorry, Cedric. I know it's a lame excuse, but I sort of… fell asleep."
He managed a strangled laugh at that. "Ouch."
"I've done a bit of research, by the way," she said, determined to change the subject. She could only apologize so much; she didn't want to lie to him. But she had been studying up on the Triwizard Tournament, for multiple reasons. "Used to be really brutal, the Tournament. But it seems like they really have made an effort to make it safer this year. I think, as long as you're smart and strategic about it, you'll be… safe. At least, safe-adjacent."
He looked a bit amused by that, though not entirely ready to abandon the earlier conversation about their missed date. "Any chance we could try again, Ellie? With the date, I mean? That is—if you can manage to stay awake for it?"
She managed a shaky laugh, but she wasn't entirely prepared to answer his question. She and Fred hadn't had any more near-misses like the night she'd fallen asleep in his arms, but she was no less confused about their relationship than she had been then. Would it really be fair to Cedric or Fred for her to agree to this date?
"We don't even have to call it a date," he said, seeming to sense her hesitance. "We'll call it… a friendly picnic."
"A picnic?" she repeated, laughing a more genuine laugh that time. "How is that non-romantic?"
"Well, I never said it wouldn't be romantic." He grinned. "Just give it a chance, would you? If you still think I'm worth sleeping through after the picnic, we'll call it quits. No hard feelings."
"Okay," she said, managing a smile. "One, little picnic."
"McGonagall and Dumbledore gave the go-ahead for us to play our new song after the Halloween feast," Fred announced a few nights later when the band met up in the Room of Requirement for another practice session. "Also known as the Ellie's birthday feast."
"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. "Because that's what the whole school calls it."
"The song's coming along well," pointed out Ginny. "Not that I've heard the lyrics."
This wasn't news to any of them, of course; Ellie always kept the lyrics to their original songs from the rest of the band until their first performances. This time, of course, Ginny was complaining for more than the obvious reason.
"They're not about a boy," Ellie said for what felt like the thousandth time. "And not all of my songs are about boys."
"Sure, they aren't," teased George with a roll of his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Black. In the meantime, let's get to practicing."
Ellie wanted to be mad at him for that, but hearing herself called by her true last name felt so good, she decided against it.
She met Cedric at dinnertime on a Saturday in mid-October for their "friendly picnic."
Unfortunately, the spot he took her to was the last place she wanted to have any kind of date with anyone except Fred: the picnic tables by Hagrid's hut.
It wasn't fair, of course, for her to lock up the way she did when she saw it. It was a special place to her, though—a place her father and her mother had met when they were in the prime of their romance—a place she had taken Fred and only Fred before. It wasn't a place that felt right to share with anyone but him.
"You okay?" he asked her as he set out their blanket. "You seem a bit… tense."
"Fine," she lied, forcing herself to push past the discomfort as she took a seat next to him on the blanket. She at least had to give this a chance, didn't she? Like he'd said, they could call it quits afterwards—no hard feelings. "Just some… stuff with my dad."
Curiosity flashed in his pretty, blue-grey eyes, but he seemed to know better than to ask the obvious question. "Everything okay?" he asked instead.
"Yeah—he's okay. He's just… worried. About all the new wizards coming to the school, you know, in light of what happened at the Cup."
He seemed to understand. He opened up the basket, revealing sandwiches—not subs, at least—and muffins. "The Dark Mark thing, you mean? But surely no one coming to Hogwarts would be involved, right?"
I certainly hope not, she mused grimly as she pulled out a muffin. But all she said was, "Right. So tell me about the tournament, then. Have you made up your mind?"
"Decided to this morning, actually. Heard the other two schools are coming in on the thirtieth, which is when they'll open the tournament up for entries, and they'll pull the names the next day on Halloween. Great way to celebrate your birthday, eh?"
She tried not to laugh too dryly at that; Cedric, of course, had no idea that the other schools showing up was something she dreaded. "Right. We're having a concert, at least. Or, you know—playing a song."
"I heard." His eyes flashed with a bit of excitement as he nibbled at a sandwich. "You know, there are a few rumours going around that that song is the way you're going to put this little love triangle of ours to rest. Or, at least, turn it into a… love line."
She did laugh at that, though the thought made her more than a little queasy. "The rumours are just rumours. The song isn't about a boy."
The disappointment in his eyes was clear, but he didn't look entirely discouraged. "Well, maybe, if I play my cards right, I'll still get to kiss the singer after the show."
"Neville," Ellie said the following week as she worked through her lyrics with her musical guru in the Charms courtyard. "What does it mean to 'let your heart decide'?"
"Well…" He gave the question a surprising amount of consideration. "I s'pose it means going with those more raw, innate feelings you have—you know, instead of what the logical choice is."
"But what if those raw, innate feelings are conflicting?"
He considered that one, too, then asked his own question back to her. "Thinking about making the song about someone in particular?"
"No," she said immediately. No matter what she decided, she was sticking to her guns on this one.
"It's just," Neville continued, "if you really read into the lyrics, they already are about someone in particular."
"The song is called I'm in Love With My Guitar, Neville. It's perfectly clear—"
"Whenever we're together, I'm a rock star," he quoted, interrupting her. "I can pour it all our right from the heart. If it's up to me, we'll never be apart."
"Right." She crossed her arms stubbornly. "I'm in love with my guitar."
"Sure, but take out the one line, and…"
She groaned, burying her head in her hands.
"Let me guess," Neville said, softening slightly. "These conflicting feelings you're talking about are because it still hurts you to be around Fred. You're reminded of the way he hurt you before, and you're afraid it'll happen again."
"Am I really that obvious?"
"Only because we've been writing about him for the past two hours."
"It isn't about—"
"Look—forget Fred for a minute. Forget the confusing emotions. How do you feel about Cedric?"
She thought of their little picnic—of his sweet, kind eagerness to be with her—of the way he had kissed her at the end. It was still nice, kissing Cedric, but each kiss seemed to mean a little less than the one before it. And each kiss dulled in comparison to Fred.
"I don't want to be with him," she admitted. "But—"
"Then don't," he interrupted. "And give the rest of it more time."
"I don't think I can do this," Ellie told Fred as she stood beside him in front of Dumbledore's office. It was the twenty-ninth of October—one day before the Durmstrang students arrived and two days before her birthday. She was out of time; it had to be today.
"You can," Fred promised her, reaching out to give her hand a gentle squeeze. Even from that small gesture, she felt more than she ever had from Cedric's kisses. She hadn't quite gathered up the courage to reject Cedric altogether yet, but she would soon. "We'll do it together."
That was how she wanted to do everything from there on out, she knew—with Fred. She didn't know how long it would take for her to finally allow herself to be with him in every sense of the word, but she knew that she didn't want to be with anyone else.
"Cockroach clusters," she said, taking a deep breath. She had gotten the password from McGonagall earlier that day.
"Ah—Miss Black," greeted Dumbledore cheerfully when she appeared in front of him. "Mr. Weasley. What a pleasure to see you both. Do come in."
"I don't think I ever said thank you," she admitted with a frown as she stepped over to his desk. He was alone, of course, or he never would have called her by her real last name. "For all your help with me… leaving unexpectedly."
"You are more than welcome, my dear," he assured her. "It was a dreadful thing, what happened to your father—an injustice, to be sure. A small fib in order for him to get to spend much-awaited time with his daughter was well worth the trouble."
She beamed at that—at least, until she remembered why she was there. "Listen, Professor… there's something I need to talk to you about."
He smiled cheerfully back at her as he asked, "This is about a certain Aleksander, I presume?"
She glanced up at Fred, wide-eyed, but it was clear from his equally shocked expression that he hadn't been the one to tell. "But… how did you…?"
"It seems that you may have given your doting father a reason or two to doubt your obedience to him as of late," said Dumbledore with a bit of a chuckle. "He wrote to me nearly three weeks ago to notify me of the situation, just in case you failed to."
She blushed at that, but it also gave her a twinge of pleasure to know that Sirius cared so much. "Right. Well… I suppose that was it, then. Not much we can do about it, right?"
"Unfortunately, your cover story hinders me from reaching out to their headmaster or the Department of International Magical Affairs with the real story, as your father surely mentioned to you. I was, however, able to acquire a list of names of the students coming to us from the Durmstrang Institute, and found that one Aleksander Dolohov is, in fact, going to be joining us at Hogwarts starting tomorrow."
She had known, on some level, that he'd probably attend. He had been the right age; he had been powerful; he had been strong. The type of student a school would send to be their Triwizard Champion. Still, her heart twinged with fear and dread knowing that it would soon be real.
And that last name—Dolohov. Why did that sound so familiar?
"Dolohov," repeated Fred, seeming to have the same thought. "That's a Death Eater name. Antonin Dolohov. He killed my uncles."
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Indeed, you are correct. He, along with several other witches and wizards; your mother's brave brothers proved quite hard to kill."
Ellie could hardly believe her ears. She hadn't even known that Molly's brothers were murdered, let alone by the father of Aleksander. She had a feeling the loss had probably happened when he was a young child, given the Death Eater timeline, but she knew Fred well enough to know that his heart hurt for his mother, all the same.
"It would seem that this Aleksander's father sits in Azkaban under charges not unlike the ones your own father was falsely accused of, Ellie," Dumbledore explained to Ellie.
She nodded, trying to ignore the knots that were forming in her stomach. Had Dumbledore shared this information with Sirius yet? Ellie could try to convince herself it was another coincidence, but she doubted her father would see it that way.
"Yes," said Dumbledore, seeming to sense where Ellie's train of thought was headed, "your father is quite aware of that development, thanks to my return letter to him. I have given him my assurances, which I now give to you, that he will be under my deepest and must scrutinous surveillance during his stay here at Hogwarts—mine, along with the rest of our professors and staff."
"That's not good enough," said Fred immediately. "You know what happened at the Cup, sir. You know they could be after her. If he—"
"Again," said Dumbledore patiently, "to report the altercation between Ellie and Aleksander would mean admitting that she was not where both her mother and I told the Ministry she was. And to refuse a student access to this school, on the grounds that his father is a criminal, would be unfair and, for obvious reasons, hypocritical."
Right—because of her.
"I brought Alastor—that is, Professor Moody—here this year for a reason," Dumbledore told them. "This young Aleksander is not the only person coming to Hogwarts who arouses my suspicions. Alastor is one of the strongest Aurors who has ever lived. Between him, myself, and the rest of the staff, I assure you that we will stop at nothing to protect all of our students—including you."
Judging by what she had seen so far, it was a comfort to know that Moody had her back. But would it be enough?
"I implore you to keep as open a flow of communication with myself and Professor McGonagall as you can," Dumbledore told Ellie. "If he gives you any trouble at all, I will, of course, step in."
Fred made a sound of distaste at that, clearly resenting Dumbledore for not already having had stepped in. But she understood why he hadn't; it would only result in her and her father getting into trouble.
"Thank you, Professor," she said, swallowing. "I'll do that."
And with that, she and Fred left the office—and she started panicking.
So Aleksander is the son of Antonin Dolohov? The Harry Potter experts in the room know that that guy is no joke... but is Aleksander a mini-Death Eater, or just a creepy teenager? And with Ellie having made up her mind about Cedric, how soon before she tells him? We have some pivotal chapters ahead of us, so be sure not to miss a moment of it. And in the meantime, review, review, review! (Unless you hate the story, in which case, feel free to plead the fifth.)
