Chapter Three: The Message in the Locket

Staring at the ceiling with her blue eyes narrowing mischievously, Esmeralda worked out all she could about her situation. She had been hit with some sort of spell up there on her broom. The red ball—whatever it was called—had been in Gryffindor's possession, and no one else had been near her. She must have been the target.

She had no idea where she was, exactly. She only knew that she wasn't at Hogwarts. She could still hear people Apparating and Disapparating outside, and Hogwarts, a History, had clearly stated that no one could Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds…

Tipsy, however, intrigued her. Her thoughts were wrapping around all she knew about him with a frightening pace. She had committed every word he'd said to memory… all she had to do was break it down.

"Well, well, Miss Longbottom," a voice suddenly said, breaking her thoughts with more force than a fastball through a single pan of class.

Ezzy jerked her head painfully upward. The man who now sat at the foot of her bed was even more peculiar than Tipsy. He had flaming red hair and wore a hideous green robe in the same puke-green color. The robes themselves were adorned with a dozen and a half flashing buttons and pins.

"And who might you be?" Ezzy asked, more bitterly than she intended.

"George Weasley, at your service: Proud co-owner of Weasley Wizard Wheezes Incorporated, bringing constipation and puking boxes to over one hundred countries worldwide—"

"Why are you here?"

George put an index finger thoughtfully on his chin. "Give me a moment…" He searched the inside of his robes, as if looking for something. He took off a boot and shook it out, causing its various contents of candies to fall helplessly to the floor. He took off his other boot and a rubber chicken slid out, but nothing seemed to satisfy his search. Finally, he reached behind his ear and took the quill that had somehow nestled itself there.

"Ah ha, here it is!" He exclaimed triumphantly as he pulled out a sheet of parchment. He scribbled something down on it, rolled it up, and lit it on fire with a touch of his wand. He suspended the ashes in midair and then collected them with a swoop of his hand. He pulled a silver necklace out of his pocket, and opening the locket, put the ashes in.

"What?" Ezzy asked as he handed the locket to her. "What do I need with a locket full of ashes?"

George winked at her and put his boots back on. "If you're as smart as Tipsy says you are—and mind you, he has an excellent eye for intelligence—you'll figure out something to do with it. We're sending you back to Hogwarts, now…"

"Who's 'we'?"

"Can't say. But if you're smart and clever enough to figure out that you weren't at Hogwarts after falling off a broom stick after a Parazneiflix spell hit you in the back, you can figure out what to do with a locket full of ashes…"

Esmeralda took the locket tentatively, unable to resist a challenge. Not long after she had hung it around her neck, however, George suddenly blinked out of existence, and she was wrenched off the bed by an unseen, giant hand.

The feeling subsided a moment later, and she was on the ground, tangled in white bed sheets. The stone floor was cool against her cheek—and the hands that were picking her up were so very warm.

"Madame Pomfrey!" Someone yelled. "She's awake!"

The hurried clatter of heels jarred her eyes open. She was back at Hogwarts, being hauled back onto the bed by Pam Davidson and two others she did not know. In old woman was at her side in less than a second, bearing a tray full of medicines.

"Ezzy!" Pam whispered urgently. "Can you hear us?"

"Of course I can…" Ezzy said, though as she spoke the woman poured something rancid down her throat.

Pam and the two others were apparently relieved. "We thought you were going to die!"

"I assure you that I have no such intention…" She spluttered as something slimy slid down her throat.

Ezzy stared out the window. Madame Pomfrey, Pam, and the others had left mercifully an hour ago, leaving her to recollect her thoughts. She was convinced that both George and Tipsy had been some vicious dream.

The moon, after all, was still a week or so away from being full, and there was no possible way for her to be in two places at once. According to Pam, she'd been asleep since she had fallen off her broom two days prior. She couldn't have been in some not-Hogwarts and Hogwarts at the same moment…

She scratched her neck in thought, and her breath caught in her throat when her fingers snagged on a silver chain. She drew the locket out from beneath her shirt, extremely surprised. Magic still had things in store for her, apparently. Her Hogwarts letter had been shock enough. This might have been worse.

Esmeralda groped for her wand. She pressed it to the locket and muttered a spell. She opened it, but was less surprised when a roll of parchment fell out. She unrolled it with a soft smirk to herself, vowing to find out how she had been in two places at once later, and read the few words it held to herself.

"Look for Neville Longbottom."

Ezzy's smirk turned into a frown. She was sure her last name wasn't too popular in the wizardry world—or even that popular in the muggle world, for that matter and never, not her entire extensive family line, had she heard the name "Neville."

She pushed her other vows aside. Who Neville Longbottom was, and why his name was in a locket, she was determined to find out.