Disclaimer: It's still no more mine than it was 12 months ago…
Updated: Friday 23rd December 2005
Note: Anything specifically recognisable was shamelessly borrowed from both OotP and HBP. In case of further confusion, I wish to take the opportunity to state for the record that I am combining elements of the storylines from both OotP and HBP, creating a parallel AU. I have not skipped a year… Harry is in fifth, Estella in fourth. Hope that clears things up. Feedback on this decision will be much appreciated. Review replies for Chapter Ten will be sent on the 26th. Apologies for not having them out with this chapter. Hope you all have a safe and happy holiday season.
Chapter 11: Train Rides
Boarding the train at Platform 9¾ the next day was a mixed blessing for Estella. As much as she was looking forward to another year of learning and seeing her friends again; that she had parted from the men in her life in such a way plucked at her heartstrings. Remus, for instance, was not even there when she'd woken up. Apparently, he'd ducked his head in before he left on his 'spur-of-the-moment-undercover-mission' for the Order, but hadn't wanted to wake her. Whatever had happened between her and her father the night before had clearly tired her out, for she doubted that anything could have woken her from her slumber.
Waking up as though she'd just slept a week was revitalising and refreshing in its nature, but Estella was still a little put out by the fact that her she'd missed her godfather's departure. Her father had explained the urgency and unexpectedness of Remus' call of duty, and Estella knew that her godfather would not have left without saying goodbye if he had had any choice in the matter. That understanding didn't mean that she had to like it, though. In fact, Estella had a mind to believe it was Dumbledore's little way of getting back at her for snookering him at the Order meeting. She had no illusions that the formidable headmaster was not accustomed to having someone flat out refuse to serve him without repercussion.
To compound matters even further, Estella did not want her father seeing them off at King's Cross. It wasn't that she didn't want him there, exactly, she just didn't want to risk it. What made explaining this to the man difficult, was the tiny matter of Sirius being completely oblivious to the contract that was presently over his head. Strictly speaking, Estella was not even supposed to know.
"Why, don't you want me there?" Sirius didn't understand where this was coming from.
"No, I do, I want you there…" Estella's voice had trailed off hopelessly. "It's just that…"
"Then I don't understand what the problem is!" said Sirius, reaching for his cloak. The others had already taken their trunks out to the Ministry cars Arthur had acquired for the day and were waiting. "Estella, this is the first time I've ever been able to come see you off at the station as a free man, I thought you'd be ecstatic."
"I… I am… it's just… it's just not safe," said Estella half-heartedly, her mind already having anticipated her father's next response.
"Well of course it's hardly safe for anyone, is it?" said Sirius, shaking his head. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll promise to come straight home by Portkey the second you get on the train…"
"It's not a joke!" Estella had snapped at her father's tone. "You can't come!"
"I know it's not a joke, Estella," said Sirius, his tone darkening in frustration. "If you don't want me there, just say so. Don't give me some crap about it not being safe. It's safer for a fully-trained wizard than it is an under-aged one."
"Not for you, it's not!" she had stressed.
Sirius had looked down at his daughter with strange comprehension. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he sought eye contact. "Estella," he said quietly. "Did Malfoy threaten you? Are you worried about going back to school? Is this what this is about?"
"Of course not!" scoffed Estella, forgoing the opportunity to ditch school and spend more time with her father. "I told you, Draco and I were just talking."
"Then I don't understand it, kiddo!" Sirius took a step back and waved his hands in defeat. "You explain it to me! I'm not giving up the opportunity to see you off without good reason!"
"Oh, well, okay," said Estella stroppily. "How about the orders for Death Eaters to kill you on sight? Is that a good enough reason? Huh?"
"As I am sure it stands for just about everyone in this house…" said Sirius, before doing a double take. "Wait, you're serious, aren't you?"
"No, you're Sirius. That's my point!" said Estella cryptically. How could she have just given the game away like that? She'd promised not to say anything!
"Estella, is there something you're not telling me?"
"Yes, there is something I'm not telling you," Estella sighed. Apparently her father had not taken her earlier affirmation for what it was. "Please, just trust me on this, okay? You really don't want to come to King's Cross."
Suddenly, everything appeared to become clear to Sirius, whose face darkened in realisation.
"I will not cower and hide, Estella," said Sirius. "I will not give them the satisfaction."
"You don't even know who 'they' are," his daughter had pointed out. Taking a decisive stance, she'd sat down on her trunk. Skunk, her undersized Kneazle, jumped up from where it had been lounging on the trunk to curl up on Estella's shoulder. Nuzzling her head to one side, wordlessly thanking her familiar for its show of support, Estella kept her ground. "I see I have no choice."
"What are you doing?"
"I am not stepping foot outside this house until you promise me that you will not follow!" said Estella as she crossed her arms and looked at her father levelly. "I mean it, Dad. Stay home."
Gaping at his daughter's defiance in shock, Sirius wagged his finger at his daughter. "Now listen here! You will pick up your trunk this instant and follow me out to the car where everyone is waiting!" he said sternly. "We're going to run late as it is!"
"No!" snapped Estella, crying out as her father magically moved her trunk from under her, sending it out to the car when she did not respond. Scrambling to her feet and dodging his hand as he made to drag her out of the house, she dug her heels in. "I'll only Portkey back upstairs! I mean it!"
Catching hold of his daughter's wrist, Sirius held it laxly in his hand for a moment and frowned. Slightly behind him, refusing to move, his daughter had her pendant firmly clasped in her other hand. In what could only be described as a fierce battle of wills, Sirius scowled. "I'm coming!"
"You're not!"
"Fine, I'll just Apparate and meet you there, then!" Sirius said, releasing her hand and gesturing for her to walk out the door.
"And I'll just keep using my Portkey!" threatened Estella, equally stubborn. Mortified at the idea of her father Apparating to the platform by himself, Estella's eyes had begun to tear up in frustration. Pleading now, she tugged at his hand desperately, trying to get his attention away from the front door. Collapsing on a lower step of the staircase, she buried her head in her hands and had started to sob in defeat. This was not how she had wanted to leave for school. Absently petting Skunk as the creature had slunk down from her shoulder to rest on her lap, she struggled to get the next words out. "Please… please… I don't know what else to do! Stay, just… stay… I can't worry about you too. Not with Moony out… out… there…"
Sighing in equal defeat, Sirius sat down heavily next to her and pulled her close. Murmuring words of comfort in her hair as he rubbed her back gently, he reconsidered his options. He didn't fully comprehend the risk to his life, and he couldn't really relate to the fear his daughter felt, but there was nothing he wouldn't do to take away her tears. "Oh sweetheart," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I'll… I'll stay. Maybe Tonks will put the memory in a Pensieve for me, eh?"
"I'm sorry, Dad," said Estella in a shaky voice. Sorry for the fact she had been born a girl and had ever drawn Lucius Malfoy's attention. Sorry for the fact that she took desperate advantage of her father's weakness by deliberately crying in front of him. "Don't ever think that it's because I don't want you there." she sniffed. "Quite the opposite, really. I want you here… I want you here for a very long time."
Their conversation had been interrupted at that point by footsteps clamouring up the front steps as Harry was sent back to see what was the hold up. Though he did not quite understand why, Harry had accepted that Sirius was staying behind at Estella's reluctant insistence. A hurried goodbye and promises for regular Owls later, and the two teenagers had left the house.
Now caught in the bustle of students as they scrambled to secure their favourite carriages, Estella followed Harry towards the back of the train. Reflecting on the morning she'd just had, she was pointedly relieved that her involvement in the Order would mean that she'd not have to wait until Christmas to see her father again. When Remus had told her just before first year that he'd not be able to visit her on weekends during term anymore, 'because it wouldn't be fair to the other boarders', Estella had thought that was unbearable. Now, being sent away from both her godfather and the father she was only just getting to know, she began to understand just how people got homesick. It was then that she suddenly realised that she no longer considered the quarters she'd shared with her uncle for the first ten years of her life as her home. The thought so shocked her, that she faltered in her step, almost completely missing the fact that Harry had disappeared into a carriage.
Allowing herself to be bustled into the carriage behind Harry as the throng of Weasleys behind her prevented much else, Estella took a seat by the window and wondered what her friends were up to. Because the argument she'd had with her father had made them late, the group had gotten onto the train with moments to spare and she'd yet to spy any of her fellow Ravenclaws. Somehow, all the Weasley boys, plus Harry, Hermione and Estella had managed to squeeze into the empty carriage, complete with their associated trunks, Owls and Familiars. Her keen eyes spotting Harry's sleeve move slightly, Estella levelled a glare at the Parseltongue to remind him to keep his snake's presence a secret.
Sirius had yet to clear the pet with Dumbledore and watching the saviour of the wizarding world converse with a reptile was still something a lot of people would not be able to reconcile with. As such, Harry was under strict instructions to keep the small garden variety python out of sight. Luckily, said snake preferred warm, stuffy places, and so was quite amenable to Harry's instructions to stay under his clothes. Evidently, Harry had forgotten to tell his pet not to move around, for Estella could notice the boy twitching as the scaly creature tickled the sensitive spots on his arm. Inwardly, she made a note to congratulate Harry on his resolve – she didn't think she'd be able to keep from laughing if she was being tickled.
No sooner had the train finished lurching and settling into a rhythm on the tracks below, were Hermione and Ron called away to the Prefect's Carriage. Ginny had quietly excused herself on the platform once she'd spied Dean Thomas board the train; so that left just the twins, along with Harry.
"All right, you two, spill," said George firmly after exchanging a telling look with his twin. "What are you up to?"
"Huh?" Harry frowned, casting Estella a side-long look in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Harry!" Fred shook his head. "We're masters of our game. Don't you think we can recognise when one of our own are keeping something from us? We patented that look you've both been wearing!"
"What look?" said Estella, not buying into the twins' fishing expedition for a second.
"Never mind the look," George said uncertainly. "You can't tell us that you spent the entire duration of the Order meeting getting your ears chewed off! They must have discussed other things!"
"So spill!" Fred implored, reiterating his brother's earlier command.
"With all due respect, it's none of your business," said Estella defensively, her mood grounded by the persistent purring of the Kneazle in her lap. "Or do you get sick pleasure hearing of other people's torment?" she paused, taking in the twins' expressions. "Not even my uncle would stoop so low!"
"Don't you have fliers to distribute or something?" said Harry flippantly, trying to distract the pair of redheads from pursuing their current line of questioning. "Tell us more about how you're able to mix the shop with school…"
"You're trying to change the subject," Fred pointed out, wagging a finger.
"Don't think we haven't noticed," George continued, tutting slightly.
"I don't think he was intending to be subtle," said Estella. "There's simply nothing further to discuss on that subject."
The foursome exchanged casual small talk for the next half an hour, each teenager taking the time to mentally regroup and plot their next course of action. Estella could see that they had piqued the curiosity of the twins and knew that short of getting Molly involved, the twins were not about to give up their crusade. She was halfway through plotting the mental draft of her report to the woman, which she would have to give at the next meeting if she wanted to protect the integrity of her position and get the twins off their backs, when Lee Jordan barrelled into the carriage.
The conversation flowed a bit more easily after that, with the twins' attention sufficiently drawn towards their professional endeavours, taking both Lee and Harry along for the ride. Subsequently left out, Estella contented herself with a cursory glance of her Charms text; one hand absently stroking Skunk. Though she'd only had the strange, scrawny looking Kneazle for a few days, Estella couldn't imagine being without it. 'Guess that's why they call them Familiars,' she mused to herself, settling down to read her book properly. Before she could absorb herself in the page, the carriage door slid open to reveal a sweaty, round-faced boy in Harry's year.
"Hi, Harry," Neville Longbottom panted, struggling with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his toad, Trevor. "Hi, guys… mind if I join you in here? It was, er, getting a bit uncomfortable in the carriage with Dean and, er…" his voice trailed off as he noted the dawning looks comprehension on the twins' faces.
Though they both were undoubtedly agitated about whatever Ginny was off doing in a carriage alone with her boyfriend, neither brother said anything. Neville and Harry looked to them in surprise. To answer the unasked question, George shook his head.
"We don't have anything to worry about, do we Fred?" he said.
"Nope," George shook his head, grinning slightly. "Train is charmed against permitting anything beyond an innocent snog."
"It is?" at this, Estella couldn't help but raise a brow. She'd certainly not heard of such an obscure little fact.
"It's something you can, er, only discover from experience," Fred elaborated.
George exchanged a grave look with his twin before nodding at the audience in equal seriousness. "So we'll know how hard to hex Dean judging by what he looks like when he gets off the train."
After this, neither twin would expound upon the apparent precautions the train's staff had undertaken to ensure students conducted themselves appropriately in the unsupervised carriages. Estella wasn't sure she wanted to find out just how the twins uncovered such information, let alone what the consequences were for any couple who indulged their teenaged hormones.
The train rattled onwards, speeding them out into open country. It was an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously grey clouds. The conversation quickly moved on to neutral ground.
"Guess what I got for my birthday?" said Neville.
"Another Rememberall?" said Harry, remembering the marble-like device and how it had inadvertently secured his spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in first year. Everyone present in the carriage was well familiar with the story and looked to Harry knowingly. Neville's grandmother had sent him the Rememberall in first year in an effort to improve the boy's abysmal memory which, incidentally, had shown little improvement over the years.
"No," said Neville. "I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago… no, look at this…"
Estella watched on with increasing disinterest as Neville rummaged through his bag to pull out a strange looking plant. Tuning out as the excitable Gryffindor handed Harry his toad and began his explanation, Estella reeled back in shock as she was struck with a thick, stinking jet of green goo. Glaring at the source, Estella quickly surmised that Neville had tampered with his Mimbulus mimbletonia, causing it to spout the offensive Stinksap out of its boils.
Neville, whose face and torso were drenched in the rancid liquid, shook his head to get the worst out of his eyes. "S-sorry," he gasped. "I haven't tried that before… didn't realise it would be quite so… don't worry though, Stinksap's not poisonous," he added nervously, as Harry spat a mouthful on to the floor.
At that precise moment the door of their compartment slid open.
"Oh… hello, Harry," said a nervous voice. "Um… bad time?"
Harry wiped the lenses of his glasses with his free hand. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing in the doorway smiling at him: Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Catching the look in the girl's eye, Estella groaned and shook her head in dissent before leaning back to watch the interplay with interest.
"Oh… hi," said Harry blankly.
"Um…" said Cho. "Well… just thought I'd say hello… bye then."
Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. Catching the boy's eye, Estella supposed that Harry was rather embarrassed being caught clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Estella gasped, recognising the look on Harry's face as being more than just simple humiliation. "You… her? No way!"
"What? Don't you think I'd have a shot?" said Harry defensively, though Estella could hear the doubt in his voice. Opposite them, the twins and Lee nodded approvingly and started ranting about how the two Seekers were 'made for each other' and they didn't know why they hadn't seen it earlier.
Filled with a sudden feeling of discontent, Estella cleaned her things, placed an indignant looking Skunk on her shoulder, and prepared to leave. Throwing an almost non-verbal cleaning spell in the boy's direction, Estella criticised Harry of his taste in girls and excused herself from the carriage briskly. It took all her resolve to not go back and hex the identical smirks off the Weasley twins' faces when she heard one of them say something about her being 'jealous' behind her back. If anything, Estella was simply being protective of Harry. All the Ravenclaw girls – and most of the boys, too – knew their house Seeker was a complete emotional basket case. Boys always seemed to look past that when ensnared by the girl's perceived beauty, but they always walked away burned. Cho Chang was bad news. Simple as that.
Convincing herself to that end as she slammed the carriage door shut behind her, she pondered the reasons for her exit. The boys probably thought she'd left in a jealous huff or something, or because she was disgusted by Neville's blundering with his plant, but really, nothing could be further from the truth. Copping a lapful of Stinksap and being the only person in the carriage familiar with Cho's M.O. had simply made her realise how much she didn't really belong with this group of Gryffindors. Had she of been in a similar situation with John, Reg and Elsie, Reg's reflexes would have shielded them all from the Stinksap and John's bluntness would have sent Cho fishing in a different pond.
Though she had initially set out to find her friends, the allure of a surprisingly empty carriage drew Estella away from her goal. An isolationist by nature, the constant thrum of people in confined spaces was beginning to niggle at her. While she could more than handle it if the company was good, she wasn't about to turn down the opportunity for some quiet time alone. For the most part, she'd still not had the chance to work through the events of that morning; as she slid the door home and slumped on the chair it became apparent that the banter of other teenagers hadn't been the only thing keeping her from her reading.
Pulling out a different book, this one an album, Estella traced the gilded edges of the embossed pattern; the touch of the soft leather soothing her. Flicking it open to the first page, she reread the lines that she had read for the first time just a few hours earlier.
Thank you for bringing light to my shadow,
for filling my heart with precious memories
for showing me the true nature of love
and giving me the strength for the times ahead.
All the best for the school year –
stay safe, be strong, and never forget that I am closer than you think.
It wasn't signed, but Estella didn't have to read who it was from to know it was from her godfather. She would recognise the man's carefully printed handwriting anywhere. The gift he'd left by her bedside was a collection of photographs he had amassed over their summer together, and it was with a heavy heart that she flicked back through the colourful pages, reminiscing fondly.
"Closer than I think?" she cast a questioning look at her familiar, who had alighted from her shoulder and curled up in the seat by the window, opposite her, as soon as the carriage door had closed behind them. Noticing Estella's eyes upon them, the Kneazle blinked blankly and yawned, pausing slightly to lick a paw before returning to slumber.
Left to her own thoughts, Estella tried to fathom what her godfather had meant by that last statement. Was Remus undercover in Hogsmeade? Surely not… it would be a widely known fact if a werewolf pack were present within the village limits. If a werewolf intending to transform in Britain did not have a Ministry inspected and approved pen for their transformation, the identity and location of a werewolf had to be made a matter of public record. Custom-building the Shrieking Shack to serve that end had been the only way Remus had been able to attend Hogwarts without his affliction being widely known. Pack werewolves, on the other hand, were known to roam the outdoors freely. Those content with their condition made sure to do so in a safe, controlled environment away from humans; whist a violent contingent preyed on the defenceless.
Though Remus had been bitten in Britain, he had been treated by an aunt in Avignon and referred to the laws there. Had he been treated at St Mungos, a Healer would have registered his condition as a matter of course. The French Ministry, on the other hand, did not require its Healers to report instances of lycanthropy, such was their respect for patient confidentiality. Instead, they requested that any werewolf in the country sequester itself in a secure, unpopulated area; making it widely known that any person caught killing a werewolf would not be held accountable for their actions. Of course, this only invited a pandemic of werewolf slayings; all but wiping out the werewolf population on the west coast of the continent.
A benefit of transforming in Britain, despite the fact that one's condition would be more readily disclosed, was that the Ministry had a greater tolerance towards werewolves who abided by the laws imposed upon them. The blind eye the French cast to the poachers who hunted and killed werewolves for sport was something the British did not aspire to. That said, Britons were much more prejudiced towards those afflicted; whilst the French were mostly ashamed of the actions of a few of their countrymen and went to lengths to protect and accept those they knew to be affected. As such, Remus' family had chosen for his condition to be treated and endured within French jurisdiction until such time as he was old enough to understand the social backlash that would occur when people at home in England found out. Keeping Remus indoors and taking added precautions with the isolated estate's wards had assured his safety as much as was humanly possible. For some time, they'd even contemplated enrolling Remus in Beauxbatons. The fact that his condition would have to be widely known by the school alumni and the knowledge that there would be no deterrent stopping a werewolf hunter to break into the school and kill him, however, swayed their decision.
Thinking again of her godfather's current whereabouts, Estella traced the faint indentation of the man's quill and reread the words. Despite his affirmation, Estella was still under the distinct impression that her godfather was going undercover within the packs that had shunned society and roamed freely in uninhabited wilds during the full moon. All other werewolves… individuals like her godfather who had assimilated as best they could into the mainstream community were readily approachable by any member of the Order and just as likely to cooperate. There was simply no way he was 'closer than she thought'.
"Estella?" A muffled whisper shook her from her thoughts, the owner of the voice causing her heart to skip a beat.
"Moony?" she whispered, awed. Reaching into her bag and pulling out her school robe, she extracted a familiar looking mirror from its pocket. "Moony? What are you doing with the mirror?"
"Oh, well, hello to you too!" her godfather's reflection grinned at her playfully through the charmed glass. "What, don't look so surprised! Didn't you get my parting gift?"
"No, yes, thank you, but you… I thought… wasn't Dad… the meetings?" Estella's words ran together like the colliding thoughts in her mind. "What?"
"There can be more than one mirror linked together, you know," Remus tapped his nose accordingly and winked. "Well, actually, we've only managed to get three to maintain a connection for now, but now your Dad's working on finding a way so that all Order members can have one…"
"Wait, so that's what you and Dad were so hush-hush about last week!" Estella's mouth flew open in surprise. She didn't want to set herself up for disappointment by asking the man if his possessing a mirror meant that she should not expect him at a meeting anytime soon. The answer was likely something she'd not want to hear.
"Well, no, not exactly," said Remus sheepishly. "It was mostly Tonks' and myself."
"What? You mean you weren't… Dad said… we were all so sure you two were off…" Estella stopped herself abruptly and blushed crimson. "Uh, nothing…"
Remus chuckled knowingly, his own ears turning pink at everyone's presumptuousness. "I will assume that your father suggested such things in order to throw you off the scent," he said lowly.
"Uh, yeah, okay," said Estella, inwardly disappointed that things between her cousin and godfather were not quite as she had thought. Coming to her senses, she frowned at the mirror. "What are you doing, Remus? Is it entirely safe for you to be calling me?"
Her godfather looked at her appraisingly for a moment before casting his eyes downward. It was hard to tell from the limited acoustics of his reflection to gauge whether or not he had just sighed, but Estella was quick to note that the man's shoulders slumped in guilt.
"For now it is," he said quietly. "But it won't always be so."
"It's okay," Estella was quick to reassure him. "I wasn't even expecting this much contact, so whatever you can do safely I'll make do with."
"I'll try to check in after curfew, before you go to sleep," Remus promised. "You will be in bed by then, I should hope? Keep the mirror on you at all times, though."
"Of course," Estella nodded resolutely in response to both queries. "Can I ask why I need to have it with me all the time, though? Am I to expect a call for help at any moment? What am I supposed to do then?"
"No, no," Remus assured her. "I have other means of requesting assistance. I just may pop in from time to time if you're not busy. Do you know the charm to alert you to a call soundlessly?"
"Yeah, I can either make the mirror vibrate or change temperature, I think, with a variation of the Protean Charm," said Estella. "I promise I won't take it out of my pocket."
"Good," Remus' smile quickly turned into a frown as his eyes caught sight of something beyond the mirror. "Sorry, cub, I got to go. Promise not to worry about me; use the mirror if you ever want to talk, all right? I have ways of getting through to you if I'm unable to talk back."
Estella was still nodding dumbly when her godfather abruptly severed the connection.
"I promise," she resolved to her own determined reflection before stowing the mirror in her pocket, vowing never to jeopardise her godfather's concentration by trying to initiate mirror contact.
Rather than stuffing her school robes back into her bag, Estella changed into them early. No sooner had she straightened her tie and clasped the ends of her robe together did the familiar bustle of the lunch trolley draw her attention to the carriage door.
"Anything from the lunch trolley, dearies?" the woman recited, one hand pulling the carriage door open sightlessly as her attention was drawn to the inventory in her other hand. Looking up, she took in the lone occupant of the carriage and frowned. "All by yourself, are ye? You all right there, child?"
"I'm fine," Estella assured the woman kindly, immediately reminded of Mrs Weasley. "I just needed a quiet place to finish some reading."
The woman nodded slightly, taking the opportunity to look at Estella more closely. Suddenly her eyes lit up. "Your mother and Lily Evans were the same," she said in recognition. "Not that James Potter and that father of yours ever left them alone, the persistent little blighters! It was nice to hear of your father's innocence, lovey…"
"Wait," Estella interrupted, her mouth agape. She'd never known the woman to be so chatty with the passengers before. "You knew my parents?"
"I've been pushing this lunch trolley since before Albus Dumbledore became Headmaster," the woman said reminiscently. "There's not a lot I haven't seen in that time. Never did think it quite right when Sirius Black went to Azkaban. Couldn't believe he'd had it in him… but what did I know, I was just the lunch lady! No one ever asked me for a character reference."
"That'd be because he never had a trial," said Estella. The old lady nodded woefully.
"Dreadful thing, what happened," she shook her head. "Imagine, bringing Dementors onto the Hogwarts Express! Ran clear out of chocolate that day, I did! No one thought to warn me of their presence! Good riddance to Fudge, I say!"
"Can't disagree with that," Estella nodded in agreement. Second to perhaps only Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew, Cornelius Fudge had a lot to answer to when it came to the wrongs inflicted upon her family. Eying the pre-packaged goods on the trolley hungrily and listening to the faint rumblings of disruption as students in the carriages ahead began to wonder why the trolley was stopped so long, Estella pulled out her coin purse. "May I have a Pumpkin Pasty, a Cauldron Cake, two Chocolate Frogs and a bottle of Butterbeer, please? Oh, and some tuna for my Kneazle, if you have any, thank you."
"Why, certainly dear!" the woman complied happily, muttering regrets about not having the time to chat with all of her hungry customers. Handing Estella her change, she snuck her a few Sugar Quills and a Cockroach Cluster. "For your impeccable manners, my dear. Don't get an awful lot of that from students these days," she tutted, sealing the money box and re-arranging the display stock with a flick of her wand. "I'll be up with the driver should you require any further refreshment."
With that, the old woman was off, leaving a surprised Estella in her wake. She'd never given much thought as to where the lunch trolley lady spent the duration of the journey; she'd most certainly never heard of the woman inviting customers to seek her out. Mulling over the strange turn of events, Estella turned her attention to her purchases; first propping Skunk's tin of tuna up on the window sill before tearing into her pasty.
A sudden disruption at the door a short while later caused Estella to choke and splutter on her last mouthful of cake. The doorway opened for a second time to reveal her housemates.
"There you are!" Elsie exclaimed, squealing in excitement as she leapt into the room and threw herself at Estella. "We hadn't heard from you since the party! John was so worried that one of us may have done something to upset you. Reg and I have spent the past hour trying to assure him otherwise; we're right, aren't we? You don't hate us?"
Estella laughed at her friend's forwardness. Sitting across from her – earning himself a feline glare from Skunk as he'd just stolen the Kneazle's resting spot – John averted his gaze, his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"Jeez, Elsie, talk about us as though we're not here, why don't you?" Reg rolled his eyes, hauling his trunk up onto the luggage racks and collapsing next to John. "Thank goodness we found you, 'Stell… John and I can't get her to shut up!"
"Well someone had to make up the conversation!" Elsie said indignantly, accepting Estella's help in hefting her trunk onto the racks gratefully. "With Estella absent and Luna absorbed in her magazine, I had to speak for three girls!"
Luna? Estella's eyes flew open in surprise. Turning around to reclaim her seat, she was further surprised to see the girl in question curled up on her chair, head absorbed in the latest edition of The Quibbler. If Estella didn't know any better, she'd never guess that the Ravenclaw recluse had not been sitting there the entire trip.
The girl beside the window looked up, giving off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left hear for safekeeping, or that she had not given up on wearing her traditional necklace of Butterbeer caps, or that she was reading her magazine upside-down. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at John, who had taken the seat opposite her, initially thinking he'd be closest to Estella there.
"Have a good summer, Luna?" Estella asked politely as she sat down between her two dorm mates, trying to figure out why her friends had taken the girl who was notorious for being a drifter.
"Yes," said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off John. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Barry Ryan's brother," she added.
"I know I am," said John, shifting uncomfortably under Luna's gaze. It was a well known fact that John's older brother Barry played Keeper for the Irish Quidditch team. Since a very small age, John had been propelled into his brother's shadow, and so he was quite used to comparisons.
Reginald chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes on him instead. "And yet you're the one on the Quidditch team."
"Well my brother was Captain!" Reg pointed out, rolling his eyes. Roger had graduated the previous term amidst much sadness from their housemates. Now, the team would have to find a new Captain; Reg, having been a reserve Chaser in his second year before Quidditch had been cancelled for the tournament was a hot favourite to step into his brother's shoes now that the Quidditch Pitch was again suitable for playing on. "Merlin, Luna, what planet you been on?"
"Earth," she said as though explaining the concept to a five year old. "My father has yet to meet anyone capable of interplanetary Apparition; though there is a Sorcerer in America who is known to have created a Portkey to Venus."
"Why would anyone want to Portkey to Venus?" John frowned.
"To find a woman, of course!" Luna stated in a matter-of-fact way. "When this Sorcerer transported himself here from Mars he had hoped to find the woman of his dreams here on Earth, but since his quest has failed he's setting his sights on Venus. It's all in last month's issue of The Quibbler, you know. My father got an exclusive interview before he departed."
"Oh," the boys didn't know which way to look; each fighting the urge to laugh. Elsie and Estella, meanwhile, exchanged a knowing look. Sharing a dormitory with the eccentric blonde for the past three years, they had come to expect such behaviour. Nothing the girl said to them could surprise them anymore.
The girl in question shrugged at her audience's lack of enthusiasm before raising her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and falling silent. Suddenly reminded of something, Estella's eyes lit up.
"Hey, Luna," she said casually. "I don't suppose you got my letter…"
Luna looked up from her magazine. "Of course," she said nonchalantly.
"The letter with the photos?" Estella elaborated.
"Oh, oh yes, yes," Luna said with equal indifference, flicking to a page in The Quibbler and handing the magazine to the girl beside her.
Righting the magazine up the right way, Estella took a moment to smirk at the caricature of Cornelius Fudge on the cover and peruse the headlines before flicking directly to the page Luna had pointed out. Reading the article fully, Estella's grin grew. Handing the magazine back to Luna with a satisfied smile, she thanked her dorm-mate for passing on the 'scoop' to her editor father. Seeing the questioning looks of John and Reg, Estella explained.
"Just something in there that'd appeal to my Dad's sense…sensitivities," she said diplomatically. Estella had wanted to say 'sense of humour', but she didn't know how the loopy Ravenclaw would take it if she found out that she'd only given her the story as a joke. Sure, her father could carry a tune, but since when did he supply lead vocals to a group named The Hobgoblins, or go by the name 'Stubby Boardman'? Estella was not even sure if there ever were a band by such a name. Only the old picture of her father decked out in Punk gear was real. The snapshot had been taken by Remus during the Marauders' fabled trip to Reading in the summer after their graduation. Estella's only regret in colluding with her godfather on the project was not waiting to the end of summer to submit her tip-off to Luna. Had she waited, her father's pseudonym could have been, more aptly, Stumpy Boardman.
Nodding slowly, John looked to be considering his options. "How was your summer?" he blurted abruptly, instantly blushing at his choice of delivery.
Ignoring the boy's obvious discomfort, Estella smiled brilliantly and began to fill her friends in on the last two weeks of her summer. Leaping up enthusiastically, she retrieved her album from inside her book bag and squeezed herself between John and Reg; promising to show the girls properly once they were settled in their dorm.
"So then, right, Harry took off like a Banshee in heat and Dad followed…" Estella's voice trailed off, drowned out by Luna, who had begun laughing shrilly. Instinctively moving her hand to placate Skunk, whose slumbering form was jerked awake by the scream of mirth, Estella thanked her lucky stars that she'd already sent her Owl, Aquila, ahead to the school. She didn't fancy what the majestic, proud avian would do.
Luna laughed so hard her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs and on to the floor. "That was funny!" Her prominent eyes swam with tears as she gasped for breath, staring Estella as though she had just cracked the funniest joke of the century. "Banshee… Banshee in heat…"
"Oh boy," Reg whispered, shrinking away slightly as Luna's high-pitched laughter assaulted his hearing.
"It's going to be a long year," John muttered, his eyes locking with Estella's.
Seeing the swirling emotions in the quiet Ravenclaw's eyes, Estella inhaled sharply.
"You can say that again," she whispered in agreement, slightly bewildered by the unidentifiable intensity in the boy's eyes.
'Too close!' her mind registered suddenly, as she was made intimately aware of how uncomfortably wedged she was between the two teenaged boys. Leaning down to retrieve Luna's magazine, Estella took the opportunity to excuse herself and return to her seat between Luna and Elsie; the latter of whom was watching her strangely. Meeting Elsie's raised brow with one of her own, Estella settled back in her seat, suddenly finding the white stripes on Skunk's back very interesting as an awkward silence passed over the group.
'It's going to be a long train ride,' Estella amended to herself; not quite knowing what to make of the building tension between both she and John. When she next looked up, Estella was unsurprised to see that the others had deployed their number-one Ravenclaw defence mechanism – they had buried their noses in books. Sighing silently in relief, Estella thanked the hat for the choice of her house and reached into her bag for her Charms text. With any luck, she should be able to make it through the introductory module before the train pulled into Hogsmeade.
"Oh, this cannot be good," Estella mused aloud, her gaze flitting from the head table to the Gryffindors and back again, eyes narrowing with each pass.
"What?" Elsie followed her line of sight in confusion, a spoon poised halfway to her mouth as they tucked into their dinner at the start of term banquet.
"Both Harry and my uncle are missing from the Great Hall," Estella pointed out with a frown. "That can only spell trouble."
"Hey, what d'ya reckon happened to Dumbledore's hand?" said Reg suddenly, talking through a mouthful of steak-and-kidney pie to stab his fork towards the Headmaster. Turning around slightly and noticing the blackened and dead-looking appearance of the old man's right hand for the first time, Estella gasped and shook her head.
As though spying their thoughts, Dumbledore shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury and smiled at them reassuringly.
"You'd imagine a great wizard like him would be able to do something about it," said John reverently.
"Not all injuries can be cured by a Medi-Witch's wand," said Luna gravely.
Elsie nodded. "There are quite a few old curses and potions too I'm sure…"
"It looks like it's dead!" Reg screwed up his nose, looking down unfavourably at his pie and reaching for a chicken leg instead. Changing the subject, he gestured towards a new, but familiar face at the Head Table. "Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?" he asked. "What's she doing back here? Hagrid can't have left, can he?"
"I'll be quite glad if he has," said Luna, "he isn't a very good teacher, is he?"
The others nodded mutely in agreement. As much as she liked the half-giant as a person, Estella could not help but agree with her fellow housemates about the man's teaching methods. Frankly, all of Ravenclaw thought of his appointment as something of a joke. It wasn't anything they had against the bumbling groundskeeper… it was more an aversion to the subject itself. Bookish by nature, the Ravenclaw brethren simply saw more merit in the more studious disciplines of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.
Conversation quickly moved onto the submission of their respective holiday assignments, but Estella's mind remained on the umbrella-wielding wizard. In her capacity as an Order member, she knew full well that Hagrid was on a mission for Dumbledore and had journeyed into the treacherous Giant Country to seek support. Bearing genetic traits and 'stunted' growth that belied his father's non-giant genetics, Estella knew that Hagrid would not be received well by the 'true' giants and feared for his safety.
Returning her gaze at the head table, Estella looked up at Dumbledore in question. He hadn't seen her looking yet on account of the squatty looking woman whispering in his ear. Shaking her head in disapproval at the woman's choice of attire – fluffy pink, she thought, could only ever look good on Tonks – Estella averted her eyes when the woman turned her head towards the Ravenclaw table. Chancing a casual look at the woman's features, Estella grimaced at the pallid, toadlike face that greeted her. Noting that the woman's pouchy eyes were presently scanning the Gryffindor table, Estella allowed herself a proper look. Though she was certain that she'd never seen the woman before, there was just something familiar about her appearance that struck a chord with her.
"That's Dolores Umbridge, that is," John stabbed his spoon towards the woman and made a face. Turning back to face her friend, Estella frowned, her suspicions confirmed. Dolores Umbridge had been present at Harry's hearing and was introduced as Fudge's Undersecretary. Estella hadn't been there, of course, but Harry's colourful description of the woman had stayed with her.
"Heard she buttered herself up to 'ol Rufus once the change in administration was announced," Reg added, screwing his face up in disgust. "Me Dad reckons they had a fling, way back when, and now she's usin' it to her advantage."
"Ew, gross!" the others protested, their meals suddenly forgotten.
"What's she doing at Hogwarts?" asked Elsie, glaring at the back of the woman's mousy-brown head as she babbled on in Dumbledore's ear again.
"I heard Scrimgeour was tired of the woman's come ons and posted her here to maintain his own sanity," said John, his slight Irish lilt more evident when he was speaking quickly. Years of sharing a dorm with English boys had made him all but rid him of the accent. "Oh look, Dumbledore's about to give the start-of-term notices…"
At this, the teenagers turned to face the Headmaster and listen intently.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now too."
"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me for the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things; all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door."
"We have had two changes to staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons. We are also delighted to introduce Horace Slughorn, an old colleague of mine who has returned from retirement to resume his previous appointment as Potions Master."
At the myriad of confused, jubilant and bewildered looks amongst the students – Estella included – Dumbledore turned his gaze to the empty former Potions teacher's chair. "I assure you, students, that Professor Snape has not left us…" at this, a collective groan of disappointment rumbled through the Hall. Ignoring this, Dumbledore continued cheerily. "Instead, I am honoured to announce that Professor Snape has graciously accepted a transfer to the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Eyes flying up in surprise, Estella gaped openly at the teacher's table. She'd known a new teacher was starting at the school, but Estella had no idea that it was none other than her own Potions tutor – the man who had taught at the school in her parent's time. Looking at the man more closely, nodding in acknowledgement when the man noticed her and waved, Estella admonished herself for not spotting him sooner. She had been so preoccupied wondering about her uncle's whereabouts, she'd clearly not paid much attention to the other teachers at the table. Her eyes landing on the empty chair that Dumbledore was still gesturing to, Estella wondered when her uncle had accepted the transfer. She'd already suspected that the news had been kept from her in order to surprise her along with all the other students. Having grown up at the school, very little about the Welcoming Feast surprised her, and so she all but welcomed the change. It didn't stop her from worrying about the man's present whereabouts, however.
"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength," Dumbledore carried on in his address, his voice taking on a largely unfamiliar, serious tone.
The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Around her, students combined in a collective shudder at the evil wizard's name. Estella rolled her eyes at their antics and sat up dead straight in her chair; her attention not leaving the Headmaster again.
"I cannot emphasise strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer. We are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them – in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and each other's safety."
Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students. Estella shivered at the intensity of his words. In all her years of having witnessed countless welcoming speeches, this one had been, by far, the most serious. The echo of her godfather's reflection in the mirror, telling her that she'd better be in her bed after curfew, sprang to mind; reinforcing the gravity of the situation. Much to her – and other student's – relief, Dumbledore was quick to smile again and move onto more pleasant topics.
He continued, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the…"
He broke off, looking inquiringly at Ms Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then the woman cleared her throat, "hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.
"Oh, of course," said Dumbledore in astonishment. "How could I forget! Do accept my apologies, dear Dolores!" Turning back to the students, he gestured to the woman in introduction. "Students, this is Dolores Umbridge, a Ministry Liaison who will be present with us this year. Do try to make her feel welcome, and do not forget that she retains much the same status as the rest of the staff. I trust that you will all treat her accordingly."
There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Showing no gratitude for the fanfare afforded to her, the Umbridge woman pulled herself to her full height – which was even shorter than some first-years, and that was saying something – and cleared her throat again. "Hem, hem,"
The teachers, meanwhile, looked to their colleague with barely suppressed looks of disdain. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was thinner than most anyone had ever seen it before. No teacher, let alone guest of the head table, had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. In their respective houses, students were growing increasingly restless at the woman's disruptive presence. Many scowled and looked to Dumbledore pleadingly for the man to continue informing them of the terms of the Quidditch try-outs. It had been bad enough having to forgo the previous season on account of the tournament. Having to wait again now was torturous for those so looking forward to restarting the competition.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome." Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish and Estella knew that before week's end, it will have driven her insane. The vile woman gave another little throat-clearing cough ("hem, hem") and continued. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" she smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"
Estella glanced around, sharing incredulous looks with her friends. None of the faces they could see looked happy. On the contrary, they were largely still reeling from the Headmaster's warning about Voldemort and glaring at the woman who had interrupted him; looking particularly taken-aback by her tone.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" To Estella's absolute horror, the woman had singled her out and was smiling at her falsely as she spoke. Withering under the Ministry mole's disconcerting gaze, Estella frowned and again wondered where her uncle was.
Beside her, Elsie sniggered. "I'll be her friend so long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," she whispered, causing Estella to grin and relax.
Umbridge, meanwhile, had shifted her attention to the Gryffindor table. Estella could almost discern a look of puzzlement on the woman's face as she seemed to scan the table for a student. 'She's looking for Harry,' she realised with a frown.
When the sour-faced woman continued her preamble, her voice was lacking the breathiness and condescension of her previous address. As she began to inform them of her purpose there at the school, Umbridge's tone belied a professionalism and monotony of a speaker regurgitating facts by heart.
"What was that about?" the Ravenclaws exchanged thoughtful looks once the loquacious woman had stopped waffling on.
"There was an important message underneath the façade," said Luna cryptically, her voice partially muffled by the upside-down magazine she still held in front of her nose. She missed the surprised look her housemates gave each other at her statement – no one had thought she'd been listening. For the most part they were still trying to get their heads around the girl's mere presence. It seemed as though Luna had spoken to them more in the past day than she had in the previous three years, and it was curious to all involved as to what brought about the change.
"The Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts!" John scoffed, appalled at the idea.
The others nodded in agreement, their minds aligned in their suspicions.
"I'd heard the Ministry had posted Aurors in Hogsmeade just in case Voldemort shows up," said Estella casually. Tonks, she knew, had been deployed to the village and was but one of a small contingent that had been officially assigned the task of keeping an eye on things. Then, unbeknownst to even the Ministry, Dumbledore had invited skilled Order members to patrol the Castle's grounds at night, providing further protection for the school.
"Yeah, my uncle's one of them," said Reg. "Roger's staying with him in the village until Dad can talk Mum into letting him try out for a professional Quidditch team. She wants him to become an Auror like her brother and 'do something constructive' with his time."
"Oh, look, here's Harry!" John nodded towards the door over Estella's shoulder, causing the Ravenclaw to drop her spoon in her bowl of Chocolate Gateau and turned swiftly on the bench. "Merlin, what happened to his face?"
Estella pushed aside the automatic suspicion that her uncle, who had slunk into the room behind Harry, may have had something to do with Harry's appearance. As much as she liked to think that she knew the man better than most, when it came to Harry Potter, her uncle was just about capable of anything. Taking in the pink-faced Gryffindor's Muggle attire and downward eyes as he all but ran to his friends, Estella began to rack her brain; trying to remember whether or not she'd actually seen the boy get off the train.
A slight buzz of movement at the table beyond Luna's shoulder drew Estella's attention to Draco Malfoy, who was miming the shattering of a nose to great acclaim at the Slytherin table. Catching his eyes, she gave him a disapproving glare and shook her head in disgust before turning to wave at Harry, who shrugged and smiled back at her.
Waiting until the disruption from Umbridge's speech and Harry's arrival had died down, Dumbledore smiled patiently before continuing on about Quidditch try-outs.
"And now," he concluded merrily, his eyes twinkling warmly. "Your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say goodnight. Pip pip!"
With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall towards their dormitories. Excusing herself quickly from her housemates, Estella ducked out of the room before Malfoy could question her about her glare. Part of her had wanted to seek Harry out and find out how he had gotten his face all bloodied, but she knew she had more pressing matters to attend to. She had to speak with Dumbledore.
END CHAPTER: TRAIN RIDES
NEXT CHAPTER: SURPRISING REVELATIONS
Summary: Estella goes to Dumbledore for some answers, only to find the old man up to his old, meddling tricks. With age and House now between them, the familial closeness Estella and Harry shared is tested. What surprises does Severus have in store, and why does her Head of House have a problem with keeping still?
DUE: Hopefully on New Year's, but it really, really depends on how much writing I get done between now and when work begins again on Thursday. If I've not posted by midnight, it will be the following Friday (6th)
Special Thanks: 1 character. 365 days. 107 chapters. Over 450,000 words… and still 19 chapters to go (approximately). To think, that when I started writing the prequel to this story I had planned to have Estella out of my system by March. Perhaps I should have been a little more specific and specified March of which year…
To all the people who have been with me since the beginning, and to all those faithful reviewers I have picked up along the way, you have been the single most important thing that has kept me going with this story; and I cannot thank you all enough for your continued support and patience. To rocks my socks, who wrote the very first review within an hour of me having posted and being the sole reviewer for the first several days. To Padfoot'smoon who goes to extraordinary lengths to get her fix. To Rowenhood, who seems to keep a closer eye on the review numbers than I do. To SeverusSnape'sLove, Daughter of Darkness, Torri-Chiobie and Moonfire-lovr for consistently reviewing both fics from what feels like the beginning. To BabeBunny and Silly Penguin, for the laughs. To EsScaper, who had 'caught up' with the story by reading and reviewing each of the 40-odd chapters I had posted at the time and nearly giving me a coronary when I opened my inbox. I know that there's close to 200 reviewers I have missed, but I just wanted to illustrate how much each review means to me.
Finally, to my wonderful Beta, 3-Legged Dog, who is so much more than a word technician and creative soundboard for putting up with the likes of me!
