Bill's Bill
Chapter 8: Witnesses
Thank you for all the likes and subscribes! I'm totally blown away! Also, I post sneak peek on my Tumblr every Tuesday before posting the chapter on Thursday! Check it out! **JK owns the Harry Potter franchise and characters stuff - I'm just here because I have an overactive imagination and this helps me sleep. Sex also helps me sleep, but I'm told that's TMI. -C
Wizengamot Chambers, Monday 11:00 AM
It took several minutes for the court to regain its composure, as well as motions to be filed in regards to Mr. Flint's behavior and his impending assault cases. Hermione sat quietly observing and recording the chaos around her. It was unnerving how in her element the small Witch was. Bill began to wonder if she was the one with Malfoy blood and not him…
Ms. Macmillan set the gavel down loud and hard as the Wizengamot returned to their seats. Kingsley stopped his conversation with an elderly witch that Bill recognized from the Order of the Phoenix. She had slipped in during the chaos and the two had been talking quietly amongst themselves since. George and Bill had been sitting silently at his side occasionally offering words of comfort or light touches.
"Mr. Travers, your second witness. I trust this witness will be of higher standards than your last witness."
Ms. Macmillan's statement didn't leave room for questions or sarcastic remarks from anyone in the courtroom. It was something Bill knew that George was painstakingly holding back. Travers retreated to one of the side doors and returned with a vaguely familiar looking middle-aged man limping in disheveled Healer robes.
"Calling to the stand Witness for the court Healer Samson O'Brien," Travers announced while the court reporter, Karyn scribbled away. The man sat in the chair looking fidgety and nervous. He had a ghastly gash across his left cheek and his arm in a sling.
"State your name for the record?"
"Samson O'Brien." the man was wide eyes and twitched with each syllable of his name. Bill raised an eyebrow at Hermione.
"And what is your occupation, Mr. O'Brien?"
"I am a Healer, sir."
"Why was Mrs. Molly Weasley admitted to Saint Mungo's under your care?" The Healer awkwardly attempted to straighten his robes with his one arm.
"She suffered second and some third-degree burns while brewing a potion. According to her husband, her granddaughter threw an unknown substance into what we were told was a common calming draught potion. It blew out the side of the Weasley home, known as the Burrow and severely injured Mrs. Weasley. We were told the child and daughter in law were unharmed."
"Are you privy to the identity of this child?" Bill began to rise in fury but was abruptly yanked back down by his brothers. If the Wizengamot wanted to drag him through the mud that was one thing but he'd be damned if they'd let them besmirch his daughter's name. She wasn't even talking yet!
"Ms. Victoire Weasley, she was being tended to by her mother Mrs. Fleur Weasley when the accident occurred." Travers turned and faced the Wizengamot.
"Let the record show that the accused's child was responsible for nearly killing the Weasley matriarch." angered shouts scattered through the Wizengamot. To Bill's eternal relief most of the voices were upset at Traver's insinuation that a tot would try to harm her grandmother.
"Come now, do you really expect us to believe that a tot was part of a nefarious plan to murder the Molly Weasley?" A man shouted out from the second row.
"Matthew, the imperius curse was used under You Know Who quite frequently on children. Their innocent minds are easy to control. As for the mysterious substance that caused the explosion, the Ministry has Flooed in experts from France, Japan, and America. No one can identify the substance. We fear it might be a test run for an attack that will be on a much large scale with potentially countless casualties. With the amount of staff at Saint Mungo's in recovery, we would not be able to handle the fallout should this explosion occur, say in Diagon Alley or the newly renovated Hogwarts."
The room was silent in horror, Bill among them. Travers however, was not done his crusade and turned back to the Healer.
"Who submitted Mrs. Weasley to Saint Mungo's?"
"Her husband, Mr. Arthur Weasley."
"Was he alone?" The Healer ran his good hand through his graying hair. Bill was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. He couldn't have been over thirty-five. What wizarding thirty-five year old had grey hair?
"No, as per the new Ministry issued protocol all key members of the Wizarding War are given an Auror guard due to several prior incidents."
"Incidents?"
"As per Saint Mungo's Patient Privacy Policy, I am not at liberty to discuss them." Mrs. Macmillan huffed at his remark.
"Hmm... so you're telling me that Saint Mungo's is not at liberty to discuss patient's private medical records and yet you are sitting here in front of me and the rest of the Wizengamot discussing a patient's private medical records without her consent. Is Saint Mungo's policy to only discusses whatever is useful to them?" she scowled. Bill felt a flare of hope in his chest. This woman had seemed like she hated him, but she was proving herself to be fair and judging the case as she saw fit, not public opinion.
"There was an incident in which Healers were physically harmed and-"
"Yes, the Wizengamot has received numerous requests for reimbursement for damages done by our Aurors while trying to obtain a patient that was under your responsibility, but do go on." Travers resumed his questioning trying to avoid his murderous gaze from the Wizengamot member.
"Healer O'Brien, how many Aurors were in the room at the time of her admittance?"
"Four. Two Aurors and two trainees."
"Is that standard?"
"No, but Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley insisted that they were family and would not leave the room."
"At what point did the patient become violent?" Hermione stood up so quickly the entire bench knocked backward.
"Objection. Your honor, that has nothing to do with this case. As well as the fact that Mrs. Weasley was a patient suffering from a serious trauma, anything said or done by the patient while under pain medication administered by this specific Healer is inadmissible in court and therefore not only irrelevant to this case but also cannot be used on the stand for the prosecution." Hermione stood angrily her hair crackling from her bun and her hands clenched into fists. Ms. Macmillan looked over the Healer speculatively.
"I will allow it in this case, seeing as Healer O'Brien looks like he was just attacked by a rogue troll. Mr. Travers please use your brain that you were given and refer to the law and practice of the court. Miss Granger, please refrain from knocking over furniture." Travers bowed in a mock show of surrender. Hermione looked like she was going to physically hit him. Bill suddenly remembered that Ron had mentioned one summer that Hermione had punched Draco Malfoy. Bill made a mental note to ask Draco about that, next time he saw him.
The court reporter shuffled her notes, dropping her quill accidentally. Travers waited impatiently for her to gather her things. She apologized as she set her things back up. Her face was red with embarrassment, it clashed oddly with her lilac jumper.
"As you wish your ma'am." He turned to the Healer who was now sweating and looking nervous. His face reflected one that just realized they were talking to a celebrity. Bill pitied the wizard, he probably thought Hermione was a simpering idiot. Apparently, Hermione's reputation as a solicitor hadn't reached this particular Healer, he mused. It hadn't reached Mr. Travers either, then again Hermione had only been at this for a month or so.
"Sir, what happened after Mrs. Weasley stated that Mr. Bill Weasley was, in fact, the son of Mr. Lucius Malfoy?"
"It was confusing. There was a lot of hexes and shields being tossed around. I was in the middle of administering a Dittany salve on Mrs. Weasley when I was hit by the side of a shielding charm and knocked into a wall."
"Are you saying that Ron Weasley with the aid of the Harry Potter did this," Mr. Travers motioned to the Healer, "to you?"
"No, just Mr. Potter, the young Mr. Weasley was clearing a path for his father to exit the room safely. I believe he was shouting something about finding his son Bill."
"According to your professional opinion as a Healer do you believe the Weasley sons were violent?"
"I guess, more than what was called for in this situation." a bark of laughter came from the stands.
"Do you have something to add Mrs. Longbottom?" Asked Ms. Macmillan.
"More than what was called for in this situation? A group of gung-ho Aurors was threatening to throw their mother into Azkaban because of ramblings that were said in a delusional state. The fact that we are sitting in a full Wizengamot session at all speaks volumes about the state of not just our Auror department but the Ministry in generals."
"Thank you for that assessment, Mrs. Longbottom. We will most certainly be reviewing the Auror department as a whole. Mr. Travers, do go on." Ms. Macmillan nodded at the reddening Travers, he was trying to avoid eye contact with a fuming Mrs. Longbottom. For the first time in his life, Bill felt very sorry for the young Neville Longbottom having been raised by his grandmother.
"I... I... err... No further questions at this time." Healer O'Brien couldn't hide his surprise. There had clearly been more he was supposed to testify.
Hermione rose.
"I'd like to cross exam the witness again, Ma'am." The head of the Wizengamot nodded and Hermione stood in front of the Healer.
"Good morning Healer O'Brien. What is your oath as a Healer?"
"Do no harm. Honestly, I-"
"And Healer O'Brien what would you say about firing a stunning charm at two Aurors in training standing in front of your patient? Is that part of your oath to do no harm? It seems to me that using any sort of offensive magic, as Healer while healing, unless it is a life-threatening emergency is enough to qualify for an investigation by the Board of Healers. Is it not?" Murmurs broke out among the Wizengamot. Mrs. Macmillan sat forward once again in her chair. After a moment of silence and shuffling of parchment from Travers, she spoke up.
"Miss Granger this is a very serious charge. I do hope you have a testimony to back this claim."
"I would like to ask Auror in training Harry Potter to be admitted to the courtroom to verify this information." Ms. Macmillan leaned behind herself and listened to someone murmuring in her ear. After several seconds she nodded and stood.
"Please have him sent in." When Harry walked into the courtroom the entire Wizengamot stood. Bill noticed the lack of surprise on Hermione, Kingsley, and the other Order members faces. Harry nodded at Hermione and stood beside her.
"Mr. Potter thank you for being here today. Can you please explain Miss Granger's allegations against Healer O'Brien?"
"Certainly Miss. During Mrs. Weasley's delirium, Ron and I were attempting to empty the room of Aurors and leave only Healers to care for Mrs. Weasley. However, Healer O'Brien, as well as his two assistants aimed, Stupefy spells at Ron and me."
"So he was not attempting to harm the patient?" Ms. Macmillan inquired.
"No, ma'am. Ron and I were standing in front of Mrs. Weasley had either of us moved for cover Mrs. Weasley would have been hit by three stunning spells. Given her age, her current condition, and the number of potions she was given by Healer O'Brien himself it could have very well killed Mrs. Weasley." Healer O'Brien's mouth dropped open in horror.
"I would never..." He stuttered. Ms. Macmillan stood and ordered both Harry and Healer O'Brien be brought to separate rooms. The Wizengamot members were furious. Both Healer's assistants were called in. They each corroborated the story giving merit to his mother's confession as well as Healer O'Brien's serious lack of judgment.
The Wizengamot set a date for Healer O'Brien's hearing for the following week. When he was given his charges the man hung his head in shame. Bill couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. During Mrs. Macmillan lengthy speech about safety and patient care, the Healer kept muttering to himself.
"I thought they were coming. I thought they were coming." Bill knew he should be happy, but the man was clearly struggling. He felt a strong sense of empathy for the man who was clearly suffering from PTSD. It was a muggle disease Hermione was obsessed with since the end of the war. Charlie tapped Hermione on the shoulder.
"What's going to happen to him?" He whispered as Travers argued with the Wizengamot about favoritism and their targeting of his witnesses. Ms. Macmillan was arguing back that quantity of witnesses didn't substitute quality.
"Likely, there will be a hearing and then a trial. It was a serious offense."
"That man needs help, Hermione," George muttered.
"I know." She replied. "I'm investigated if the Hospital is still going to represent him. Likely, not. If that's the case, I will offer my services. The poor Wizard needs help."
"PTSD?" Charlie piped up. Bill grimaced and George chuckled.
"Charlie! It's not something to joke about! The Wizarding world is handicapping itself by not taking care of their problems both mental and physical. But yes, Bill I was going to go the PTSD route. I have a cousin who is a Neurologist who'd be more than happy to testify. We'd have to arrange a fake court and then obliviate him but it could potentially help so many people."
"Mr. Travers, I believe you have another witness?" Ms. Macmillan smiled at the man.
"Calling to the stand Witness for the court Mrs. Agatha Fitzgerald" A small elderly woman came shuffling into the Wizengamot room. She looked around the room with her eyes wide and her mouth open. The witch was positively terrified. Mrs. Macmillan leaned over in concern as the elderly woman hobbled in. Bill could see Hermione visibly holding herself back from helping her, as well as several other members of the Wizengamot.
"The basis of this case is that Mr. Weasley is not who he appears to be and seeing as Miss Granger has denied my request for a paternity request-"
"Mr. Weasley has nothing to prove nor should he be subjected to a painful procedure in order to appease Mr. Travers."
"Really Miss Granger, don't you read? These tests are routinely done on Pureblood children."
"And it's a despicable thing to do to a child. It is, in essence, a form of abuse. Why are we not allowed to hex children but allowed to use old magic that pulls at and tortures their magical cores? It's archaic and barbaric."
"Regardless of Miss Granger's personal opinions in proving Mrs. Weasley's confession of Mr. Weasley's parentage we are essentially opening ourselves to a trial on Mr. Weasley's whereabouts and activities during the Second Wizarding War. The belief is-"
"Mrs. Fitz, are you alright?" Mrs. Macmillan called out. No one was actually listening to Mr. Travers. The room was filled with concerned stares as the little old woman hobbling across the room.
"Oh, yes. Don't mind me." she squeaked as struggled on her way to the center of the room. She hadn't made it to halfway through the room yet. Bill was wondering what reaction he would receive if he helped her when Kingsley hurried over and aided the woman into the seat casting several cushioning charms first. After ensuring she was alright he sat back down. Mr. Travers had just finished another tirade about Bill and his distrustful nature although thankfully no one was listening. The entire room was focused on Mrs. Fitz that no one realized Mr. Travers was still talking.
"Mrs. Fitz. Can you tell me the conversation you overheard between the curtains of your husband's hospital bed?" Travers asked as soon as she was sitting.
"Yes, my poor Arty, he splinched himself and the Healers were resting him in the BurnUnitt. There was a commotion there was, some young lady was hollering and yelling about her son and man named Malfoy. I don't really want to say any specifics. It's her private affairs really. I'd be willing to offer my memories to one person to review under an oath of silence if that would be easier. It's hard to concentrate at my age." Mrs. Macmillan murmured something to the Karyn the court reporter and stood up.
"Mrs. Fitz how about we do a private viewing of your memories with just the Wizengamot and the Minister? This way we keep this woman's private affairs private. What do you say? We can break for lunch and adjourn after we have eaten." The elderly woman nodded. Ms. Macmillan walked down from the pedestal in time to help the woman with one arm and Kingsley with the other.
"I get to meet the Minister? It's certainly my lucky day. Arty will never believe me!"
Ministry of Magic's Home Tuesday, 2 PM
Molly sat with her head in her hands. She whimpered as she rocked back and forth in her cell. It was so dark she couldn't see anything in the tiny room she was in. She had no idea why she was no longer in the cell she had fallen asleep in. She did remember that the kind Healer had been summoned by the Wizengamot after she gave her calming draught and a sleeping potion. The room she was in now was nondescript, dark and cold. Molly's very bones hurt and she wondered when the Healer would be back.
'Keep your head up Molly. Fight through the pain and I'll have chocolates for you when we get home.'
Molly was six. She had skinned her knee on the training broom she and Gideon had snuck out to use. Fabian refused to be a part of anything that would see Molly potentially getting hurt.
Gideon.
Glass and screams echoed through her ears. Shouts for her to run. Shouts of-
"Fabian!" A dark mark. Death. Destruction. Father's screams about Lucius. There was a funeral. There were so many funerals back then. So many losses, so much death.
"No. No. Gideon. Fabian. NOOO!" Molly began to scream as the memories of her brother's deaths broke through the gates of her mind that were holding them hostage.
A new memory surfaced in Molly's addled mind. It was another unfamiliar one. Gideon was standing with ripped robes and a bloody face sobbing uncontrollably over Fabian's lifeless body. Fabian's eyes were sightless and she was vaguely aware that someone was holding her in the memory as she screamed.
She was confused by the memory. She had witnessed her brother's simultaneous murders by Death Eaters. She tried to get a better handle on the memory. There were other red-headed wizards gathered in mourning but she did not recognize any of them. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her? Maybe she wasn't awake at all, she was simply having a nightmare.
"What's happening to me?" Molly whispered to herself. She slumped against the garishly red wall. She could heavy breathing behind her.
"Molly?" The voice she knew better than her own, gave her tears a pause and her heart the same jolt one got when taking off on a broom for the first time.
"Lucy?"
"Molly. Breathe. You need to breathe. You are going to make yourself pass out again and we don't have a Healer on hand this time." Lucy purred.
"Again?"
"Lucy, what's going on? Why-" a warm hand rested lightly on her shoulders.
"You've been in an accident, Molly dear."
"I have? Is everyone okay? Was anyone hurt?"
"Molly, dear. Look at your hands." Molly looked down at her dirty fingernails. They were the only part of her hands that weren't covered in bandages. Bandages.
"Victoire." She jerked up, Lucy's hand falling uselessly by down her back. "Victoire. Is she alright? There was a yellow. A yellow… a duck? She threw a duck into the calming draught. Why was I making a calming draught Lucy? What is a yellow duck? Who is Victoire?"
"I don't know Molly. You need to sit down. The Healer said you need your rest." Molly Prewett spun around to face the man she loved.
"Where were you?! Gideon and Fabian and… and… You took the mark! You-" She stood abruptly and began pacing the dark cell. Lucy followed her suite, leaving his arms dangling through the bars of their adjoined cells, his head resting on the boy's face was bright in her mind the loss fresh. Who was Fred? Who was he? Why was her heart so broken over someone she couldn't remember? She could remember broken cabinets, exploding toilets, an actual toilet seat in the post, but who was he? Who-
"I told you they would make me take the mark, Molly."
"Is that where you were when they took my brothers from me? You were serving him?! Killing for him?!" Molly spun around and slapped his face. "You sicken me!"
"I know," he whispered brokenly. His pale face has a large red welt in the shape of her hand and Molly was surprised at her own vehemence. "I sicken myself. They should have thrown me in Azkaban, but they didn't."
"What do you want?"
"Everything you could never give me, Molly."
"What in the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Molly try and remember, the roses and the chocolates. I begged you-"
"To run away with me." Molly sank to her feet. Lucy begged her to leave with him, to run to America. She couldn't leave her father, not after her brothers were dead. She had to save him. "I did it to save you. Father…"
"Yes. And you did save me. The Dark Lord questioned me about you. He arranged a Pureblood marriage for me convinced that I would run. He had a tracker following me everywhere and had I run he would have killed you than me, slowly."
Memories flooded Molly's already confused mind. They were so intense, had she been standing she would have fallen over.
"We're running Molly. Me and you." Molly froze mid-wipe. She felt the blood drain from her face.
"What do you mean we're running?"
"To America. I have a cousin. She married a muggle born she was able to get me a portkey to get us both out and paperwork for us to live in the States. We need to go Molly." Lucy's voice was excited and his face full of hope. Molly Prewett collapsed onto her bed. He took one look at her face and froze. "Moll,y what's wrong? Tell me. I can fix it. I'll do whatever I have to. I'd die for you, you know that right?"
In that moment she did, he would die for her. He would die and then she would be alone in the world. She knew the choice she had to make. She would cry for a long time but now she needed to be strong. She imagined Gideon by her side as she drained her face of all emotion.
"No." Molly didn't recognize the icy words that came out of her throat. Surely she wasn't capable of that, was she?
"You kissed my hair before you left. I… I broke your heart." Molly ran her hands through her hair. "You're not my Lucy anymore are you?"
"No Molly, I haven't spoken to you since that night."
"Why are we here? What's going on? Does it have to do with the boy?" Memories of the red-headed boys began to swirl around her mind. Birthday, holidays, and graduations all jumbled in her mind. A small redheaded girl crying at Platform 9 3/4, begging to be allowed to go to Hogwarts with Ron. Who was Ron?
"Yes."
"He was our son wasn't he?"
"Yes, you hid him from me. You, your husband and my wife." She was married and she had a son. She had many sons, and a daughter. She lost one of her sons. More memories of Christmas sweaters being exchanged and howlers about exploding toilets made Molly feel faint. She was drowning in sorrow at the loss of a son she couldn't remember. She didn't even remember his name.
"I… and now he's dead and you'll never meet him," she whispered. Lucius flew into his panic mode that Molly wished she hadn't know so well. He began to pace furiously and run his hands through his hair.
"Bill. Bill, he's dead Molly?" Molly watched his large grey eyes fill with tears. "How? When?"
"I…"
"Molly I need you to remember. I need you to try. He's my son!" Her mind was blank as an empty drawing board.
"His name wasn't Bill." she murmured.
"Yes, his name was William Arthur. I know. After your father and your husband." he spat the word out like a curse.
"No. Lucy, my son. My son, he died." The Christmas sweaters swirled just out of her reach as she tried to grab.
"He's not Fred, I am."
"And you call yourself our mother."
"His name was Fred," she whispered softly. Memories of mud and mischief held her captive. She remembered every time she shouted at her mischievous boys. They were so much like their uncles.
"He… My… Oh, God. Fred. NO! My FRED!" Molly collapsed fully onto the floor as the memories of the last thirty years came flooding back. She screamed until the Aurors came rushing into her room begging her to calm down. Lucius Malfoy sat helplessly to the side as Molly Weasley writhed on the floor of their adjoining rooms, the mass amounts of memories too much for her fragile psyche.
"Someone get the bloody Healer! She was awaiting testimony!" Lucius shouted. When no one moved he barked. "NOW!" Every person in the crowded room scampered off to get the one person in the building who could help the ailing woman.
Lucius turned unexpectedly at the door of his cell opening. Head Auror Proudfoot stood in front of his room looking tired and concerned. He motioned towards where Molly Weasley was writhing on the floor.
"Help her." the Head Aurors eyes were wide with concern.
"She's not mine to help." Lucius turned his back on the Head Auror. He couldn't watch her suffer knowing that he had no right to help her. He lost that right because she tossed him aside. He would have run away with her. He would have forsaken his money and his inheritance for her, but she turned him down. She turned him down for a poor ginger who had no ambition, no money, and nothing beyond a small patch of land in Ottery St Catchpole and an obsession with muggles.
"She won't recognize her husband right now and even if she did he's in a private meeting with the Aurors filling out paperwork regarding an incident in Saint Mungos," Lucius repeated his previous statement petulantly. Molly had been going in and out of her memory all day. When they were in cells in the Ministry and then even more when they were transported to this home. One minute she was a lovestruck teenager and the next she was arguing with him about running away together. There were only so many times a wizard should be rejected by his first love.
"Have you no heart Malfoy?"
"No." he whispered as he walked slowly walking towards her each step bringing him closer to a woman he had lost almost thirty years prior. He knelt down onto the floor scared he was dreaming. He caressed her hair and murmured into her ears until she stopped thrashing.
"I have a heart. I'm only terrified she's going to destroy what little I have left." he croaked.
He began to hum softly, helping her settle into a soft sleep. Head Auror Proudfoot watched on in equal parts envy and sadness as the two comforted each other on the floor of the small room. That was how Arthur, Percy Ron, and Harry found them fifteen minutes later. When they were done gawking Arthur pushed his way through with Healer Davis. Mr. Malfoy handed Molly Weasley over to her husband and left before Arthur could offer his thanks. Head Auror Proudfoot removed him from the small cottage and installed the man into his office. The two downed a bottle of firewhiskey each and talked for a very long time.
DAILY PROPHET SPECIAL EDITION
Saint Mungo's under Heavy Fire for Healer's Involvement in Scuffle
According to eyewitnesses multiple renown Healer's joined in the embarrassing scuffle in the Saint Mungo's Burn Unit yesterday morning. A representative for the Hospital assures the Prophet that no patients were harmed as a direct result of their employees' involvement and that they are pursuing disciplinary measure against any staff members that used violence.
A source in the hospital's legal department has confirmed that their policy of not harming patients requires the patient not to be harmed to begin with, for the Healer to be considered abusive. I ask you, what patient in a Hospital Burn Unit isn't already harmed? Maybe the current Ministry of Magic picket should be moved to Saint Mungos to force them to fix their policies regarding patients and Healers?
-Parvati Patel
SEEKING POTIONAIRE IN APOTHECARY IN KNOCKTURN - WELL COMPENSATED
Daily Prophet SPECIAL EDITION
HEALERS ALLOWED TO HEAL?
She's done it again! While we all are enjoying our lunch, Miss. Hermione Granger the previous heartthrob of not just Ronald Weasley, but our very own savior Harry Potter and Quidditch champion Victor Krum as well, has managed to discredit another famed professional. A Healer with a long history of good honest work is currently being investigated by the Wizengamot for charges on patient neglect and my sources confirm that it is very likely his hard-earned Healership will be revoked!
Beware all! Should the heartthrob call for your testimony you will likely end up without a job! A source in the legal department has informed me that the only female of the Golden Trio has insisted on detailed paperwork from Saint Mungos should they choose not to provide legal aid for the unnamed Healer. When a Kelpie drowns their prey, they often like to watch them sink to the bottom of the Ocean. What kind of Kelpie is Hermione Granger?
-Rita Skeeter
Hope you enjoyed! Drop a comment to let me know what you think! Next chapter is going to be a little more Charlie-centric. Can't wait!-C