The last month before school passed nearly without incident. Margaret attempted to punish William, only to have him tell her he was no longer a child and hadn't been effectively punished in fifteen years. She took it rather hard. When he said it, she looked positively horrified and took to her room for the rest of the day, refusing to come out until he had left. Thomas had to take her dinner and told Elizabeth and Richard not to mention it the next morning when she came down to breakfast. William said next to nothing to her since it happened, and surprisingly Margaret hadn't pushed him, if he were to run off and not come back to make sure Richard and Elizabeth were taken to school on time. With Margaret's job at the Ministry and Thomas running the stop, they relied on William to take Richard to King's Cross every year to catch the Hogwarts Express. Elizabeth usually tagged along to jeer at Richard, since it wasn't until December that she had the opportunity again, but this year she would be able to taunt him all year at school, and this made her rather pleased.
The night before her first day, Elizabeth found it nearly impossible to sleep. She crept down the staircase of her attic bedroom and down the hall. She paused at the corner of the two upstairs hallways and peered down the other way toward her grandparents's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, but she could hear Thomas's snoring with no trouble. She silently continued past Richard's room to the stairs and slowly crept down the staircase, taking precautions to keep the wooden steps from creaking as much as possible. A light in the parlour caught her attention when she entered the kitchen.
William lay on the settee, rolling a pocket watch between his fingers.
"What're you doing?" Elizabeth asked as she entered the parlour.
He snatched the watch in his fist and sat up to look at her. "What're you doing?" He slipped the watch between the cushions.
William had a strange way of dealing with things. He didn't talk about what was going on, he rarely showed emotion, and he avoided whatever was bothering him. Instead, he was often caught in various parts of the house in the middle of the night. One time she had caught him building a puzzle in the sitting room and another time rearranging the spice rack to hopefully annoy Margaret when she discovered them out of order. Elizabeth figured something had to be bothering him.
"What's with the pocket watch?"
"It's Grandpa's."
"Gramps has a pocket watch?"
William got up from the settee with the watch and walked over to the mantle. "My grandpa."
"Oh."
William's grandfather was Oliver Albright, Minister for Magic, and Margaret's father until 1974 when Voldemort led a raid on the Ministry, killing him and Thomas's older sister Abigail, who was working there at that time, along with several other workers. William had been particularly fond of him and his Aunt Abigail, but especially Oliver, who had given William magic lessons from a very early age, and a stuffed lemur when he was three that William still refused to part with despite the fact its left eye was threatening to fall off at any moment and it was dirtier than a pile of mud. It was still hidden in the back of his cupboard, protected by a charm ever since Margaret had tried to obliterate it nearly ten years prior.
"Tell me, kid," he said, "What're you doing up at three-thirty in the morning?"
"Couldn't sleep," she admitted. "I'm worried about tomorrow."
"First day's always a bit unnerving."
"Richard says I'm gonna be a Ravenclaw, so I shouldn't be fretting so much, but Gran keeps whispering to Madam Malkin about you and they both look my way when they do. She thinks I'm going to be another one, doesn't she?"
Wellingtons have been attending Hogwarts since its founding, known almost always to be sorted into Ravenclaw. William quite prided himself on being the first ever Gryffindor, but also resented that it effectively ostracised him from most of his family.
He nodded his head and leaned against the mantle. "She does." Elizabeth groaned when he said it. "But you don't know that and it's not a bad thing if it happens. I quite loved it there, but you could be a Ravenclaw and it's not bad there either. Richard likes it and Nick liked it too."
"But Gran and Gramps were there too and they've been telling me all about it. They seem so happy when they do. Gran told Madam Malkin though I'm really bright and she knows I'll be good with magic like Dad. She said everyone in the family has been a Ravenclaw, except for you, and she dead hates you for it."
"Mum hated me before I ever went to school. Gryffindor just gave her another reason to yell at me. She's never liked me, but she shouldn't be so quick to judge. I wasn't the first to ever be something other than a Ravenclaw."
"Really?"
"Of course. Aunt Abigail was a Hufflepuff and she probably wasn't the first. It's not like there hasn't been the occasional rebel. No one ever talks about them is all so you expect that they don't exist. It's the way we are. Black sheep get brushed under the carpet and no one ever hears about them. There's a book somewhere upstairs though that keeps track of everyone and we're all in there. It records Hogwarts houses I believe. Never really got a chance to look through it though. Mum keeps it locked up, probably so no one else knows what I just told you."
"But Gramps talks about Aunt Abigail all the time."
Aunt Abigail was apparently a vivacious woman who William thoroughly enjoyed, and was consequently blamed by Margaret for his behaviour as a child. She loved music, as well as a good game of Quidditch. How she did shock her parents when she became a Chaser on her house team. Abigail was set to marry a pure-blood wizard and become a housewife, but never did. She backed out of the engagement and began working in the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She was killed in the mid-70s for being part of the resistance against Voldemort. Thomas still talked about her from time to time, sometimes mentioning she was quite the fighting spirit and he was proud of her, only when Margaret wasn't around, of course. She never did care for Abigail.
"Of course he does. She was his sister, even if she didn't follow everything her parents planned out for her. Dad didn't follow the plans for him and I think he's better off for it."
Thomas came from a long line of pure-blood fanatics. They associated with other pure-blood families, believing that Muggles were lesser beings and refusing to accept Muggle-borns and other outcasts. Abigail was three years older than Thomas and by the time he started Hogwarts, Hufflepuff had changed her mind. She saw her family's ideals to be inappropriate and scolded Thomas every time she caught him promoting elitism. Eventually, Thomas had realised that Abigail was right in the way she treated other people, both magical and non, and that his parents's teachings were narrow-minded. His parents stopped communicating with Abigail once she had moved out, but kept contact with Thomas until their deaths. While he no longer supported them or kept ties with other pure-blood elitists, he married a pure-blood witch, which was enough for them to keep on good terms with him.
Margaret's family structure was similar, except her father was the accepting one in her family. William cared deeply for both Aunt Abigail and his grandfather, and it was no surprise to Elizabeth, as William was always the one to befriend a misfit. Some had even gone as far to call him a Muggle lover, which never seemed to bother him, but Elizabeth thought it rude since it was meant as an insult. While his grandfather wasn't preoccupied with bloodlines, Margaret couldn't help but retain the teachings of her mother. It was obvious that she tried to be kind to everyone on the surface, but she was still judgmental deep inside. Fortunately, Margaret's disapproval was directed both ways. She had quite the qualm with certain pure-blood families and the way they treated others, including their own family members.
"He's very pleased with the bookshop," William continued. "He wanted the same for us growing and Mum tried best not to get too upset too often about it. She did have a right fit when Nick told her he wanted to marry your mum though. We spent the afternoon hiding in my bedroom for that one."
He seemed happy for a moment and Elizabeth forced a smile. She never knew her father, but from the way her grandparents and William talked about him, she would have very much liked to meet him. She was only two months old when he died and therefore remembered nothing of him. All that she knew came from pictures and stories her family told. William was quite the storyteller and he loved to enchant her with tales about his childhood. Nicholas was five years William's senior and he was described as being very mature, taking care of William instead of fighting with him like Richard did with Elizabeth. Richard did always tell Elizabeth he thought he remembered both their parents, but he never could be sure. One thing was sure, William always spoke very highly of his older brother and Elizabeth was sure Nicholas's death was one of the things that kept him up at night.
"She found us. In retrospect, hiding in the first place she normally looks for me wasn't the best idea. I've gotten better at hiding from her I think. Now she doesn't know where to look for me." Elizabeth laughed. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"You," Elizabeth said. "You actually think she still looks for you."
Elizabeth enjoyed occasionally teasing her uncle. Margaret did still look for William, to some extent. If he was quiet for too long, she became suspicious and checked his bedroom. If she didn't find him, she assumed him to have gone out and left it at that. If he hadn't returned in a week, she began to worry, and two weeks warranted sending Thomas out to find him. He never stayed out more than three weeks without sending word home of where he was. He had once spent the majority of summer holiday with one of his friends without telling Margaret. When he got home, Margaret says a verbal fight ensued, but Richard told Elizabeth that meant she beat him. William never confirmed nor denied it, so Elizabeth didn't know what to believe. She did know that he never stayed out for more than three weeks though without telling Margaret, because she said if he ever did so again, he might as well not come home at all, and William knew she meant it.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked.
"I don't want to. Tell me a story," she begged.
He put his finger to his lips, indicating for her to lower her voice. "One story, but you must be quiet." Elizabeth nodded. "Which one?"
"The pop up book!"
William hushed her. "Alright, it's in my room. Come on." Elizabeth ran out into the kitchen and the light in the parlour went off behind her. "Quiet!" William hissed.
"Sorry."
William picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her to his bedroom. William's bedroom was down the back hallway and not a bedroom at all. The room used to be used as Thomas's study until Thomas and Margaret took custody of Richard and Elizabeth. When William was growing up, he had the attic bedroom, which was now Elizabeth's. He gave it up originally for Richard, as it was very private and he was gone often, not really benefitting from it anymore, but Richard was terrified to sleep up there alone as a child and it became Elizabeth's. He instead moved into Thomas's study, which annoyed Margaret, as they had to then move half the things into the parlour, half into the upstairs storage, and Thomas simply had to admit the loss of his private area. Margaret always said she was unsure why William couldn't have moved into Nicholas's old bedroom, but even Elizabeth knew it'd be too painful for him.
Unlike Elizabeth's room, which was painted bright blue with carpet to match, as it was William's favourite colour as a child, his current room was much more demure. If it wasn't usually a complete mess, Elizabeth wouldn't have thought it belonged to him at all. The floor was typically covered in clothes, except for a small spot in the corner that had several books stacked neatly on top of each other. However, the clothes had been picked up and the bed made, which led Elizabeth to believe Margaret had cleaned it earlier that day. She had left a pile of clean clothes on the desk that was lined with framed photographs and pages of illegible writing.
William put her down inside the room and closed the door behind them. The lights turned on with a flick of William's wand and the first thing Elizabeth noticed was a scarlet and gold scarf hanging over one of the cupboard doors. He picked her up and dropped her on his bed with a bounce. A loud laugh escaped from Elizabeth and he promptly hushed her.
"Be quiet," he said seriously. He started looking over his bookshelf.
"What've you been reading?" She picked up a book on his beside cabinet. "An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms," she read aloud. "Sounds more like mandatory school reading than for fun."
"Just looking for something."
"Like what? Don't you know them all?"
He shook his head. "No, it's impossible to know everything, no matter how hard I try." He pulled the book out. "Here we go." He opened it up and a black castle popped up on the page. Elizabeth made herself comfortable in his bed as he sat down next to her and placed the book in his lap. "Deep in the Carpathian Mountains —"
"Where are those?" Elizabeth asked.
"Transylvania," he said shortly.
"Where's that?"
"Nowhere. It doesn't exist anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"'Cause why?"
He was becoming increasingly annoyed. "'Cause Romania took it."
"Where's that?"
"You know where that is. Charlie works there."
"But which way?"
William pointed out the window. "That way somewhere." Elizabeth was silent for a moment and William continued reading. "Deep in the Carpathian Mountains lay a castle —"
"Like Hogwarts?"
William sighed. "No, not like Hogwarts."
"Oh."
"Deep in the Carpathian Mountains lay a castle that —"
"Why not?"
"Because Hogwarts has no vampires."
"Oh. Why —"
"If you ask me why not one more time I'm going to close the book and send you to bed."
"I'm listening!" Elizabeth cried, pulling the sheets up. "There's a castle in the Capathian Mountains."
"Carpathian," William corrected.
"Is it really there?"
"Yes, it's really there."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? Because when I told Richard, he said it isn't real."
"Yes, Bethie, it's really there!"
Elizabeth pulled the sheets over her head. "Uncle William?"
"What now?"
"I don't like this book anymore."
William closed the book. "Likewise."
Morning was normally a busy time around the Wellington household, but first day of school was the most chaotic. Margaret rushed around in a frenzy, making sure Richard hadn't forgot anything and forced him to eat as much as she could cook before he left. The train didn't leave until eleven, but no one ever slept in past seven in the morning once Margaret had gotten up and tried to do twenty things at once.
"And you're sure you've got your clothes?" Margaret asked.
She was working Elizabeth's nerves and it was barely half past nine. "Yes."
"And your wand?"
"Yes, Gran."
"Books?"
"Yes."
"The lunch I packed? You know I don't want you having anything off the trolley."
"Mum, she's got everything," William said, as he carried Elizabeth's trunk down the stairs. "You checked it thirty minutes ago, and thirty minutes before that, and an hour before that. She hasn't taken anything out. Just calm down."
Margaret stood behind Elizabeth at the table, trying to pull her fringe away from her face, but Elizabeth resisted. "Elizabeth, sit still," she ordered as Elizabeth jerked her head away. "Stop it." She brushed her hair back, holding it in one hand as she put the brush in her mouth. She pulled Elizabeth's hair back and secured it with an Alice band, which Elizabeth promptly removed.
"I don't want to wear this." She threw it on the table and messed up her hair.
"I will not let you go to school with your hair in your face. You'll make a bad impression.""
"I don't care." Margaret attempted to fix her hair again, but Elizabeth pulled away. "Don't touch it!"
Margaret slammed the hairbrush on the table.
"Nicely handled," William said sarcastically, as he took a seat and opened his book.
"This is all your fault," Margaret accused him.
"Of course it is." He was far too preoccupied with his book to bother arguing.
"You run around with your hair constantly a mess, hanging in your eyes." She moved over to brush the hair from his eyes. He backed away from her. "Oh, fine! If you want to hide behind your hair, be my guest. I will not allow her to."
"I don't want you to touch my hair," Elizabeth said.
"She doesn't want you to touch her hair."
"I heard her! If you won't let me touch it," she said as she picked up the brush and handed it to William, "then maybe you'll let your uncle do it."
William handed the brush to Elizabeth. "Do whatever you want, kid, just get the hair out of your face before Mum smacks me for it."
Margaret ripped the book out of his hands and snapped it shut. "An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms," she read. "Got this off the shelves again, didn't you?"
"What's the point of living above a bookshop if I can't read the inventory?"
"It's not for you to nick, it's for customers to buy so we can continue living this comfortable life you lead."
He grabbed a pitcher of juice off the table and poured himself a glass. "Yeah, it's so comfortable you wouldn't last a day if you had to be me."
It was true that William was openly displeased about his life. He hated getting older and feeling like everything was just getting progressively worse and not better. When he turned thirty the year before, he had an all out fit after Margaret said it was a milestone in his life, considering she never expected him to quite make it that long. He got so mad at her, he turned bright red and both pewter candlesticks on the mantlepiece chipped. Last February, she didn't even wish him a happy birthday, and advised the rest of the house not to either, as she hid the fine china in the upstairs storage.
William was not only getting older, but he was getting old alone. Everyone he once knew was either dead or might as well have been, except for his good friend Claudius Billows, whom, unfortunately, William was refusing to speak to then. Margaret always said it was good he had no friends anymore, as it would surely dishearten him to see them married with families of their own. He wasn't the type to date though. He had no interest in the women Margaret tried setting him up with, and Richard had a great laugh whenever she mentioned she had found a woman he might like. They never mentioned it in front of Elizabeth, but she wasn't stupid. It didn't take a genius to piece together that William Wellington was quite simply not interested in women.
Living with Thomas and Margaret didn't help William's apparent unhappiness either. He was constantly berated by Margaret and everything he did was wrong in her eyes. He had very little privacy and Margaret would wander into his room whenever she liked, which is probably why he tried not to be around as much as possible. He said with his own place, there would be no one to complain of him being up at all hours of the night, his lack of an organisational system, his large collection of knick-knacks and other odd things for a man of his age to have, owl feathers all over the house, and most importantly, his use of magic. Margaret did not allow much magic in the house while the children were still in school and William had a terribly difficult time following this rule.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Margaret needed William to help with the children. She was getting on in age herself, and Thomas had been slowly losing touch for years. She couldn't wrangle them the way William could. Richard was now fifteen and every year since he turned thirteen he had become more and more aloof. There was simply no talking to him. For all they knew, he very well could have run an illegal drug operation with Percy Weasley via owl post for as much as Richard talked to him and as little as he talked to anyone else. Now Elizabeth, however, was only eleven, but already far more outspoken than Richard ever was. She was very adamant about what she did and did not like, what she would and would not do, and most of all, what she expected of others. It was very likely these traits came from Margaret and would only develop as she got older.
William wasn't without anything to be proud of, though. His biggest achievement was that he was an Auror. Despite what Margaret said, he was very gifted with magic, even from a young age. He knew complex spells and charms that even some of the oldest and wisest wizards didn't know. He was very capable with both non-verbal and wandless magic, and would often display this by enchanting objects to him, like a glass, without saying anything or moving, usually while reading a book. It may have seemed a bit ridiculous that a man as clumsy as William could be trained in stealth, disguise, and combat, but he was and Elizabeth thought he was fairly good at it too. He was quite able, when he wanted to, to sneak around the house without being detected. He could even slip right behind Margaret when she had her back turned without being noticed, which is how she had no idea whether he was home or not most of the time and always had to check. Elizabeth thought Margaret hated William being an Auror the most, because she thought it was an excuse for him to be an unregistered animagus. William was also known as a small golden great horned owl named Talons, that was very good at long distance flying without getting tired, but was smaller than your average great horned owl. The previous Minister for Magic saw it beneficial for the element of surprise for him to stay unregistered, and he had a good long fight with the new Minister for Magic about it when he took term not too long ago. Ultimately, he's still not registered.
Margaret walked over to William and stroked his hair for a few seconds before smacking him hard across the back of the head. "That's for your cheek." She smoothed out her skirt, which she always seemed to do after she was done fighting. "Where's Richard? You're going to miss the train if you don't get going."
"I'm coming!" Richard yelled. His door swung open and he pulled out his trunk.
Richard's bedroom was at the top of the stairs, so when he opened his door, everyone had fixed their eyes to where he stood. Their grandparents agreed he looked more like their father and Elizabeth more like their mother. It was hard to see how they were related, as Richard had the same chestnut-brown hair and eyes as Margaret, while Elizabeth shared the blonde hair and green eyes of Thomas, although William would always say she must have gotten the blonde hair from her mother, as she looked terribly like her. Even Mamie thought so too. Richard and Elizabeth didn't share any common traits except for one; both their ears came to a slight point on the side, as did William's and Nicholas's. Now, Thomas had short hair, which allowed for them to see that both his ears rounded and they were fairly certain that if Margaret ever pulled her hair back, there, in plain sight, would be two pointed ears.
Richard placed the trunk down with a loud thud and ran back into his room. He came out carrying a cage housing a sleeping Telemachus, who had already fallen off his perch and lay motionless on the bottom of the cage. He ran downstairs and placed the cage on the breakfast table in the middle of Elizabeth and William, before running back upstairs to retrieve his trunk.
"What's that?" William pointed to the little brown owl in the cage.
"This is Pudgy," said Elizabeth. "He's Richard's feather duster."
William looked curiously at Telemachus sleeping on the bottom of the cage. "Is it dead?"
"No, he always does that. He's too fat to balance on the perch, I think."
Richard dragged his trunk down the stairs. "His name is Telemachus," he said, "and he's not fat, he's just heavily feathered. Gran bought him for me for becoming a prefect. I admit he's a little odd though."
"Huh." William looked absolutely intrigued by the bird. "And this thing flies?"
Richard pulled his trunk down the last steps into the kitchen. "Well, no, not yet I mean. He's still too little."
"And you're still taking him to school?"
"Of course, he's my pet."
William glanced over at Margaret, who was trying to avoid his gaze, but failing miserably. Margaret never allowed them to have pets at all until a few years ago when she let Thomas take in a stray kneazle he had found hanging around Diagon Alley and promptly got a license to own her before Margaret could say no. Thomas named her Pharaoh, but after three months, she made him get rid of it. She complained it shed too much. That, and it had bladder control issues, so Margaret was fed up with scrubbing stains out of the rug in the parlour. Thomas was so heartbroken that she bought him Odysseus, who in turn wasn't much better behaved than Pharaoh. Besides the family owl, which Margaret claimed to keep because it was practical to have one, they were not allowed to have any more pets.
"I see." William's nose gave a little twitch.
William Wellington was a particularly strange man. He was unkept, unruly, and undeniably an instigator. He rather enjoyed pranks and jokes, especially when they annoyed his mother. He hardly ever gave a straight answer to a question, and it was evident he got pleasure out of being mysterious. Whenever he was about to do something mischievous, his nose gave a little twitch, which Elizabeth figured must have happened without his knowledge, and she always thought it looked rather odd.
William picked up his butter knife and moved it towards the cage, but Margaret snatched it out of his hand. "Go!" she yelled. "You'll make the children miss their train." She pushed him out of his chair and he picked up Elizabeth's trunk. "Her hair," Margaret complained, looking at Elizabeth. She grabbed Elizabeth as she tried to run from the table and pulled the fringe away from her face.
Margaret had always cut her fringe short until last summer when Elizabeth decided since she was ten years old, she could make up her own mind and wanted to grow it out. Margaret had grown very frustrated with her hair always hanging by the sides of her face and desperately tried to cut it again, with no success, of course. Elizabeth was quite fond of not having a fringe though ever since Thomas told her mother used to wear her hair the same way.
"William," Margaret begged.
"Pin it," he said. "What do you want me to do about it?" Margaret tried pulling Elizabeth's hair behind her ears again, but it fell right out of place. "Mum," William whinged. He put down the trunk, took Elizabeth by her arm, and knelt down to her level. He held his hand out to Margaret, who simply stared at him. He reached into the oversized pockets of her skirt, pulling out two pins, which he used to secure her fringe on either side of her head. "How hard was that?" he said to Margaret.
Margaret pushed him over. "Get going!"
William picked up Elizabeth's trunk and started off down the hall. Richard was so anxious that he had run in front and was already pulling his trunk down the stairs. "Richard, it's not a race."
"Bye Gramps." Elizabeth hugged Thomas and ran down the hall after them.
"Don't forget to be home for dinner by six. Your Aunt Catherine is coming," Margaret called.
"Don't do curfews, Mother," William replied.
"William Henry Wellington, for your sake you better be back tonight, or I will become your worst nightmare."
William was already half way down the stairs, but by the way Margaret slammed the door behind him, Elizabeth was sure she heard him say, "Already are."
Elizabeth hated the journey to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. William was normally hard to keep up with, as he loved to dodge through crowds and never walked in a straight line. Elizabeth was finding it an extra challenge with Telemachus, whom Richard had given her to carry and had woken up during the bumpy transport, flapping furiously around his cage.
"Keep up," said William, clearly enjoying himself. "We're almost there."
"I thought it's not a race, Uncle William." Richard was having just as much difficultly as Elizabeth.
William always preferred to set his own pace, as fast or as slow as he pleased, and if one couldn't keep up with him, he considered that his or her problem. He stopped his antics for no one, except one person, but even then it was a challenge for Claudius to get him to slow down to everyone else's pace. Claudius claimed there was one person, and one person only, that could ever truly get William under control, but whenever Claudius said this, William looked rather irritated and stormed out of the room.
Surprisingly, William stopped momentarily for Richard to catch up outside of King's Cross Station. He looked positively annoyed. "Ready?" he asked sarcastically.
Richard looked at him, insulted. "No," he said firmly. A sudden smile washed over him. "We've lost Elizabeth." Richard's smile grew wider as William realised Elizabeth was no longer in sight.
Richard was pretentious and uptight, but he was also a smart alec, finding a snarky comment for every situation. It was the only thing Elizabeth actually liked about him, as it reminded her of William. Unfortunately, Margaret believed that is where Richard learned it from, and it further fueled her frequent disapproval of her son. Truth was, Richard had a bitter streak to him, which Margaret was desperate to stamp out for fear he'd only get worse with time.
William was like a father figure to Elizabeth and Richard, which Margaret scoffed at the thought of. Despite not being their real father, William assumed all the responsibilities of parenthood, which Thomas recalls initially shocked Margaret, until he had his first mishap, but she still remains utterly shocked when he does something right, which isn't as rare of an occurrence as one might think.
Elizabeth and Richard appreciated him, even if he was a bit eccentric and accident prone. Their relationships with him differed greatly however. While Elizabeth loved William very dearly and showed it through her strong attachment to him, Richard was fifteen, so affection towards William and his grandparents was difficult to express. Instead of openly telling his uncle he cared, Richard played into William's games. He enjoyed joking around with him, but there were some things William didn't care to joke about. Elizabeth was one of those things.
"Bethie." William tried not to panic. "Bethie ─"
"What?"
William spun around, but still couldn't see her through the crowds. "Where are you?"
Elizabeth tugged on his jumper. He sighed out of relief when he saw her at his side. He knelt beside her and pulled her into a hug. She held up Telemachus's cage when he let go. The small owl was sitting on his perch, moving his head back and forth with every noise he heard. She looked at William, who had placed an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
She whispered into his ear. "I dropped him on the pavement and he rolled into a guard." William laughed slightly. "I'm unsure what happened in between me chasing after him and the guard being startled, but he smells worse than he did before."
William took the cage from her. "Let's just keep that between us," he whispered. "Here, Richard." He handed him the cage. "He's calmed down." He let go of Elizabeth and turned his back to her. "Get on."
"Why?"
"'Cause the train leaves in twenty minutes and we can't afford any more mishaps."
As soon as he felt her hands on his shoulders, he grabbed them, and stood up as Elizabeth wrapped her legs around him.
"But it was Pudgy's fault."
"It's not Telemachus's fault you got yourself lost," Richard defended the small bird.
William moved towards the platform again with Elizabeth hanging onto his neck and Richard beside him, arguing with her.
"Well, if he hadn't been flapping around I wouldn't have dropped his cage and fallen behind."
"You what?"
William interrupted, trying to move them along to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters as fast as he could. "It's okay, Richard. He's fine now. He's calm and ─"
"'Cause he's gone into shock," Elizabeth said.
"Bethie, you're not helping yourself."
"I'm telling Gran you dropped him." Richard checked Telemachus to make sure he hadn't incurred any injuries.
"It was an accident!" Elizabeth cried.
"You're an accident!"
"Eighteen minutes!" William reminded them to hurry up, traversing his way towards the barrier, and stopping short of it to put Elizabeth down.
Elizabeth looked at the solid wall. She didn't particularly want to go to Hogwarts. Richard tried to make it sound as appealing as he could, but she wasn't so sure she'd care for it as much as he did. She was terrified to be sorted and forced to share a room with other girls. What if she couldn't stand any of them?
She looked pleadingly at William. "I don't want to go to school. What if I turn out like you?"
"You'll demolish Hogwarts by your third year," Richard retorted.
Elizabeth sneered at him. She wasn't worried about classes, teachers, or rule breaking. She was worried about what house she would end up in and he knew that. Her grandmother had spent all summer telling Madam Malkin she'd be a Ravenclaw. "She is a very clever child," she had said and it was the only thing about Elizabeth that Margaret ever boasted about. When she was fitted for robes, it was all the two discussed, besides Richard becoming prefect, which was still Ravenclaw related and the conversation looped back around to Elizabeth. At least in Ravenclaw she would have Richard to bother, but anywhere else she would be on her own for the first time in her life.
"Breaking a few windows is hardly 'demolishing Hogwarts,'" said William. "I've done worse at home."
Elizabeth thought her uncle the most curious of characters. He acted as if he was permanently sixteen. He seemed to say whatever popped into his head, without giving the slightest thought to how immature it made him look. He was proud of the trouble he caused and the inappropriate things he had done. He did always like to do things on his own terms though, and what he deemed inappropriate clearly differed from most people.
"Like burning the settee?"
William had an awful habit of doing unintentional magic as a child, which he honed into being completely intentional as an adult. One of his favourites was breaking glass and he did it whenever he was angry. He used to make whole windows and mirrors shatter in an instant. Mostly now, he just cracked the dinnerware, especially drinking glasses, whether being used or stored. He wasn't particular about what he broke when he was being hot. Another talent of his involved fire, which is why Margaret no longer allowed the fireplaces to be lit. One night when William was still in school, Margaret angered him so much, the fire exploded from the fireplace, scorching the settee, burning his right arm, and leaving the whole west end of the parlour covered in ash. She never forgave him for it and left the mark untouched as a reminder, both not to use to the fireplace, and that William has no self-control.
William rubbed his right arm. "This is not an inquisition, Richard. Now Beth, there's nothing to be afraid of. You'll get sorted where you get sorted and you'll grow to love it."
"Unless she's a Slytherin."
William grabbed Richard by the collar of his shirt. "May I have a word with you?" He dragged Richard away before he could say anything. Elizabeth could still hear their conversation. William slipped a Galleon into Richard's hand. "That's for the owl." He proceeded to hand Richard another. "For not telling Mum about this." And then a couple of Sickles. "Don't abandon her and please wait until I'm out of sight to insult her." William handed over one last handful of Knuts with a note. He didn't say anything, just nodded. "Alright, Bethie." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to stay with Richard."
"Where're you going?" Elizabeth was irate that for the past four years he saw Richard off every start of term, but he was going to miss seeing her off on her first day.
"I've got someone to see."
"Are you going to see Mamie?"
"I'm not going to see Mamie."
"Is Gran going to be mad at you?"
"When isn't she mad at me?"
It was true. Margaret looked for any reason to yell at William. Once Richard had broken a vase in the parlour when William wasn't home. Margaret still blamed it on him, then turned to calling him a bad influence when Richard confessed he had done it. It was such a habit of hers to blame everything on him, that whenever she heard a loud noise around the house, she immediately accused him, whether he was there or not. Furthermore, she never apologised to him when she was wrong. She simply came up with something new to yell at him for. Elizabeth firmly believed for the majority of her life that Margaret couldn't stand William and wished he would just disappear, until he got caught flying in a thunderstorm and nearly drown falling into a lake. She babied him for an entire week until he she caught him hiding Chocolate Frogs under the armchair. She never did allow any of them to have sweets, especially William.
"Just stay with Richard," he said, "and keep yourself out of trouble."
Elizabeth thought it ironic that William Wellington, the man who lived to annoy his mother by disobeying everything she ever told him, was telling her to keep out of trouble.
"Are you going to visit?"
"I don't think so. Professor McGonagall would be suspicious to see Talons around again."
Richard had mentioned Professor McGonagall. She was the Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house. He had described her much like their own grandmother: strict and best to avoid.
"She never did care much for me. I wasn't the best behaved student in my days. One time I remember I was in her office so much I told her to just move my bed in there. She wasn't amused. By my sixth year, she started yelling at me for things she just thought I might do, not that I actually did yet. I spent a lot of hours in detention with that woman. Got sent to Dumbledore's office quite often too. Come to think of it, I can't remember a time when I wasn't in trouble or doing something that would get me in trouble later."
"You're a real role model, Uncle William," Richard said sarcastically.
William smirked. "Watch it, Richard, I used to torment kids like you."
Indeed William had. Elizabeth remembered very well her grandmother bringing up a Hufflepuff boy quite often named Martin Sellerby, that William and his friends used to play pranks on all the time during school. Margaret never found what they did to him funny, but every time she mentioned something the school had informed her of, the most curious look washed over William; a mix of pleasant recollection, smugness, and a hint of mischief flashing in his eyes.
"She doesn't have to know," said Elizabeth.
"Trust me, I can't. My very last day she told me I was a menace and she never wanted to see me or that rowdy little owl of mine ever again."
"Sounds like Gran."
"If I went back there, she'd kill me," William said casually.
"And so would Mr. Filch," Richard added.
"You tell that vindictive little Squib he still has seven years worth of confiscated items, mind you, most of which he simply came into possession of when he took over, and I would like them back, including a map he snatched from me, and a flying carpet, which is now illegal, but wasn't when he took it, so I think I'm entitled to it back."
"I'll try to remember to mention it the next time he brings up the time you gave him a tail." Richard appeared highly amused at the thought of that.
There was that look again. "I'd forgotten about that." William was smiling broadly. "Thank you, Richard."
"Can I give Richard a tail?" Elizabeth asked.
"Something tells me Gran wouldn't appreciate that." He stood up. "Now who's first? Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"What a baby," Richard said, pushing his cart with Telemachus on top into position. He started running at the barrier.
"Hey!" William yelled. "You owe me half those sickles back for that!"
Richard ran right through the wall, Telemachus screeching like a banshee the entire time.
"You're up," William said to Elizabeth, nodding towards the barrier.
"I don't think so."
William sighed. "Okay." He knelt down next to her. "On my first day, I didn't want to go either, so Dad and Nick were at the barrier with me and Dad said he knew I'd be fine and I'd be home for the holidays. The school year would be over before I knew it and I wouldn't want to come home and I felt better." Elizabeth shook her head. "No? Okay, well your dad told me that he'd be right there with me looking out for me all year and I'd make a lot of friends and I'd love it." Elizabeth shook her head again. "Still no? Well, then Dad hugged me and threw me through the barrier so either you go willingly or I force you." Elizabeth took her cart. "There you go." William stood up as she turned it around. "We've done this before, it's no different this time."
"Uncle William, I know!"
"Oh, okay, fine."
Elizabeth took off running and closed her eyes right before she hit the wall. When she opened them she was looking right at the Hogwarts Express. Richard was there waiting for her.
"Took long enough," he said. "Here." Richard handed her some of the money she saw William give him. "For the trolley."
"But Gran ─"
"Since when do you listen to what Gran says?"
She thought that he had a point. Elizabeth hardly ever obeyed Margaret and certainly never did when she wasn't around, but it was terribly out of character for Richard to partake in rule breaking. He may have been a smart alec, but he didn't step out of line.
"When don't you?"
"Elizabeth Ann, do you really think you're the only one Uncle William ever teaches his tricks to?"
She had to conclude that while it wasn't the Richard she knew at home, it was Richard. He was the only one to ever call her by her first and middle name as if it were one.
"There's Mrs. Weasley." Richard pointed out a plump ginger haired woman holding the hand of a small ginger haired girl.
Elizabeth didn't like Mrs. Weasley. Actually she did; she never cared for her sons much though. Richard was good friends with Percy, as they were both overly self-aggrandising and stiff. William knew Mr. Weasley from the Ministry, having been cornered several times once he had caught wind that William frequented the Muggle world. Mr. Weasley did have a not so secret, and not so healthy, obsession with Muggles. He wanted to know everything he could about them, and he collected electric plugs for some odd reason. He also liked batteries and William had explained that it probably wasn't safe to collect both. Elizabeth thought of all the Muggle things to collect he would have picked something better than plugs and batteries. William found him to be just genuinely curious and a not a threat in any way, so he would tell Mr. Weasley all he wanted to know and even took to bringing him Muggle objects occasionally. He had developed a strange relationship with him, which Elizabeth concluded that, by William's logic, was a normal friendship. He had a daughter a year younger than Elizabeth and a son her age. Since Richard befriended Percy, Elizabeth found herself often having to be nice to the Weasley boys, although she particularly disliked them most of the time. She got along quite fine with Ginny, but found it rather difficult to deal with Ron. There was rarely a time they agreed on anything, but William and Mrs. Weasley still insisted it was good idea for them to be friends, although they mustn't had realized that they weren't. They merely tolerated each other.
"So?" said Elizabeth, not wanting to be stuck with Ron on the train. "You know I don't like him, Richard. He's thick."
"What about the twins?"
"Not since they got me to climb that tree and I couldn't get down."
"Then put up with the little Malfoy brat for all I care. You're no longer my responsibility."
Elizabeth was a pure-blood witch, which often meant she had to put up with other pure-blood families because of Margaret's connections to them. One of which was the Malfoys, who were particularly unpleasant people and Elizabeth always thought Mr. Malfoy was only capable of one facial expression: disgust. Mrs. Malfoy wasn't much better either, but Margaret rarely talked to her, as she was surely incapable of holding a conversation. They had one son, who was a true nightmare, and up until Elizabeth had stabbed him at a dinner party with a fork, he was quite abrasive to her. He was much more pleasant now that he was painfully aware she was not above causing him physical pain, but that still didn't mean she liked him. Elizabeth let out a low growl in Richard's direction, who bared his teeth back at her and took off down the platform. She looked over again at Mrs. Weasley, who was rubbing something off Ron's nose. She decided she would much rather deal with any of the Weasley boys than have to sit the whole train ride with Draco Malfoy.
Elizabeth walked up to the ginger haired woman. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," she said. "Ginny."
"Hello, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. She always was a rather cheerful woman. She glanced around. "Where"s your uncle? Did he not come with you?"
"No, he said he had somewhere to be."
"Oh well. Arthur had another question for him about Muggles. Did you come alone? Where's your brother?"
"There's Richard," said Ginny, pointing to Richard far down the platform talking to another ginger haired boy.
"And there"s Percy."
"Where's Percy?" said Mrs. Weasley.
"He's coming now," said George. He placed his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, which caused her to jump in surprise.
Fred and George laughed.
Percy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes. Richard was right behind him, already changed too. Both their robes had shiny sliver badges with the letter P on them.
"And your lovely brother seems to be escorting him." Fred pinched Elizabeth's cheek.
She slapped his hand away. "I'll curse you, Fred Weasley."
"Elizabeth Ann, what did Uncle William just tell you?" Richard strolled up to the group with Percy.
"I should have known it wouldn't take you long to find Percy."
"Knock off your cheek."
"We're up front with the other prefects," Percy said to Mrs. Weasley. "They've got two compartments to themselves —"
"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said Fred, with a great air of surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."
"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said George. "Once ─"
"Or twice ─"
"A minute ─"
"All summer ─"
"Oh, shut it," said Percy the Prefect.
"Don't worry," whispered Elizabeth to the twins, "Richard was the same way."
"I swear, Elizabeth Ann —" Richard started, but stopped himself. "You stay out of trouble, hear me."
He left with Percy after saying goodbye to Mrs. Weasley. Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him as he left.
"We seem to be in the same boat," said the twins.
"There is no such we," Elizabeth said. "You two are a we, I am me, us three are you two and me, but there is no we."
"Lighten up, Elizabeth," said George.
"You're still not mad about the tree?" asked Fred.
"I think she is."
"We said sorry."
"You laughed at me!"
"It was pretty funny," said the twins laughing at their rhymes.
Mrs. Weasley turned to them. "Now, you two ─ this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've ─ you've blown up a toilet or ─"
"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."
"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."
"It's not funny. And look after Ron."
"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."
"Shut it," said Ron. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.
"Hey, Mum, guess who we met on the train?"
"Who?"
"Harry Potter!"
"You did not!" said Elizabeth, still mad about the tree.
A/N: Plot points and quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Six, The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, pages 95 to 98.
I added a raid on the Ministry to the timeline. The Minister from '68 to '80 was unknown so I took advantage of that and added an original character, pushing Millicent Bagnold's time back by six years so she would have been in office from '74 to '90, not from '80 to '90.
I have also just realised that Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic from 1980 to 1990, is an allusion to Margaret Thatcher, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1979 to 1990. Where have I been all these years that I didn't notice that until fifteen years later?