Oh Merlin's pants! I'm so so so completely truly sorry! I know I'm very late for this chapter but I got sick (the flu or something like that. Not funny at all, my head was like a pumpkin ready to explode). So there it is, I tried to do it as fast as I could given my state. And as Monday was a public holiday, I went to my family from saturday to monday so I wasn't able to do more translation...
Well, enough talking about my little life, you've waited for this chapter long enough!
Enjoy!
2. A dark story of socks.
Kate made the way back to Carlton with her mother, who was driving Phil's black car. If the little girl remained quiet, Grace was trying to lighten the mood by cursing the car's radio, magically tuned for no one, except its owner, to be able to work a fiddle with his musical choices and CDs.
'Whoever you are, you are not allowed to insert a classical music CD, or I'll make your seat burn!' was threatening the drive, raucously.
'And what would you say if I unplug you?!'
'Grace, if that's you; know that Phil prepared a special playlist for you, in the case you would borrow his car or run away with it! He'd really like you to listen at some good music, for once!'
Guns 'N Roses' November Rain engaged in the reader as Grace was throwing herself back in her seat with a grunt and Kate was observing the landscape outside passing by under her saddened eyes. She had waited so long in St Mungo's with her mother; both isolated in the fourth floor's stairwell, where Eliot's screams couldn't reach their ears anymore. For an hour, Kate had been bitting her nails, hoping to swallow back her tears, while her mother, silent, was rocking her against her, without knowing what to say to comfort her daughter; words as bandages over wounds caused by the loss of a loved one only make things worse... Things couldn't get better. Not for the moment. Not until Kate returned to Hogwarts, letting the oppressing reality outside...
Phil met up his wife and daughter only after the moment a healer took over as a presence for Eliot. Even though his pale face was letting no expression shown, they saw in his eyes he was exhausted. Since always, Phil never was very talkative about his feelings through hard times and just kept his troubles secret. Telling to his own nephew the loss of his sister was something irreconcilable with all of his principles he fed with his silence. Because the only time he had been capable of putting into words this significant event of his life, only his wife was there to hear it. He never talked again about aunt Charity, except in sentences containing less than ten words. Until this day...
'You should go back to Carlton...' he had said in a low voice.
'We're not going back without you, dad!' Kate had gotten indignant. 'Or without Eliot.'
'Listen, little pumpkin... We have some... things to settle with Eliot. We better do that alone, he needs peace... Time to recover. We'll meet you up in a few days.'
'But...'
'Kate, listen to your dad, for once!' had interrupted her mother with a calm voice.
The little girl had assisted to Phil's car keys handover to his wife and to their long hug before Grace had guided her by the shoulder as they had climbed down the stairs. When she had thrown one last look to her father who had been observing them, his fist stuck in his pockets, he had addressed a brief genuine smile to her, which had disappeared very quickly, erased by the grief weighing down his features.
On their way to the car, Grace had strived to make her daughter understand the reality that she wasn't quite able to grasp, through their adults stories she should never have heard at her age. Last member of the Burbage family, Eliot had inherited his parent's properties, which implied administrative procedures with English banks as well as Gringotts, or talking about the future of the Burbage house. Painful stages, both for Eliot and Phil...
Night had already fallen when mother and daughter came back to 45 Owlstone Road, its 5 still missing. Kate dragged her feet to her room after saying good night to her mother, kissing her without great delight. She was feeling snatched by the world's troubles as if everything was lying on her frail shoulders. Despite the tough day, not an ounce of tiredness took her. Eliot's screams were still reverberating in her head. So she undertook to observe the night sky, leaned on the window. Shooting stars weren't few at this time of the year, small ephemerid wishes of former days that Kate was seeing from now on as subjects to study in astronomy.
Trying to forget her problems, Kate thought about her friends. She had had the occasion to share letters with some of them, but she was only looking forward for one thing: go back to Hogwarts to share about their holidays, even though the idea of Maggie telling her in details about the Quidditch world cup that she missed caused her a twinge of regret. Then, she thought about the future repartition. Could it be possible that the Sorting Hat sends another first year in Shatterfly? Or will she be the only one, condemned to wander in the mystery of that one day?
Even though she suspected that it was linked, Kate never talked about the subject of her special abilities with her father; the fact that she can practise magic without her wand. It was useless to worry him more, she had thought. She was considering this as her little secret, about which only three people were aware: Maggie, Morgana, without her knowledge, and finally her Transfiguration teacher, the little convenient Wolffhart. Kate wondered, besides, about Eliot's reactions in class when he will discover a teacher not depriving himself from swearing in German and turning his students into raccoons for a few minutes in order to make them cut out the tricks and games. That method proved itself; she had to admit it...!
Yes. She was terribly missing life at Hogwarts.
The next morning, she was woken up again by the noise of claws knocking on the window. Disillusioned, Kate rolled several times in her bed before the squawking of the bird of prey, which had landed on a nearby oak tree's branch and was claiming to be let in, ripped her off her so comfortable bed, while Sir Sulkington remained clutched to the sheets, refusing to leave his couchette. Eyes heavy, hair tangled and entwined, she strolled about in her room with an urgent desire of roast owl. But her reaction was quite different when she saw the special calligraphy on the letter... Kate hurried to let the owl in. The bird dropped the envelopes on the floor before going away, as if nothing happened.
Miss K. Whisper
45 (without the 5) Owlstone Road
CARLTON
A similar one was addressed to Eliot. Hogwarts never misses the opportunity to be aware of the latest news...! Removing the red wax seal under the school blazon, Kate unfolded her letter hastily as Sir Sulkington growled while dragging himself towards his mistress' neglected pillow in order to finish his nap. She already was stamping on her feet thinking about going to Diagon Alley. But most of all, to return at school.
Eliot and her father came back two days after, in the middle of the afternoon. This, besides, surprised Grace, who suddenly saw her husband and her nephew appear in a crack of a whip into the living room while she was reading a book of poetry, her favourite readings. Eliot's first Apparition made him so sick, it pinned him on the sofa. His state barely improved when his cousin rushed on him, perky, sticking his letter into his hands as he was still nauseous. Phil made several round trips like this, each time bringing packed boxes, which he put in a room; the one that would become Eliot's. The latter had been getting back to his house, dusty and abandoned, and had gathered his things to bring them with him. It took a move of his wand to Phil to turn out the old cupboard in the room into a comfortable bed on which Eliot, still quiet and pale, unpacked his objects in the solitude and silence of his grief. Kate was remaining still and worried, down the stairs, between the discreet conversation of her parents in the living room and the sound of Eliot unpacking his boxes. From where she was, she was seeing her father rubbing his forehead, bags under his eyes, negotiating Grace's presence in Diagon Alley, which she was apprehending in a low voice, for she never had been so close to the wizarding world, but she accepted nevertheless. Musical notes coming from upstairs pushed Kate to climb the steps on tiptoe. She bumped into her cat in the corridor and took him in her arms, as a way to comfort her, while the animal stayed passive, resigned by this surge of tenderness that seemed to greatly upset him, his eyelids squinted on his wall eyes. The little girl looked in the doorway, observing Eliot, bent, plucking the strings of his sparkling red electric guitar, which he hadn't plugged in. The young man, whose eyes were staring into space, was letting himself be lulled by the slow melody, remembering the memories linked to it.
The call of her heart pushed Kate to half-open the door and to reveal her presence, which Eliot greeted with no reaction at all.
'Your guitar is nice', she said clumsily, without knowing where to begin.
'Thanks...'
'Can I sit with you?'
'Yeah, if you want...'
Kate took place on the bed, embarrassed by the situation. However, this displeased Sir Sulkington who grumbled harder and harder, before he jumped on the floor and cleared off, his fluffy tail up.
'He doesn't seem very nice, your cat...'
'He's a bit stupid. He's a cat!'
'I thought your parents didn't want animals here...'
'It's changed with time. A lot of things have changed... Besides, your voice broke! That's weird!'
'Time did its work. Just because I was asleep doesn't mean my body should have stayed the same... But I must admit, that's strange to think I'm fifteen now, while I have the impression I was thirteen yesterday.'
No smile came to stretch his half-opened lips. The chock had been so tough on him. Overnight, Eliot had lost everything... Kate tried to do small talk:
'You must be happy to go back to Hogwarts!'
'Has it changed a lot too?' he muttered, strumming his guitar with a vacant look.
'There was war, a year after your attack. School was almost destroyed... But that's where Voldemort has been defeated. Since then, everything is better...! They're restoring the last buildings. And we have Harry Potter as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher! You'll see, he's awesome!'
'And so, McGonagall is headmistress?'
'Yes. A German teacher is replacing her in Transfiguration. Ok, I admit, this guy's a bit creepy... But he teaches well! There's Neville Longbottom too! In Herbology! He's head of the Gryffindor house!'
Eliot was still feeling the strings, listening with one ear Kate's words as she was trying to liven up the conversation. But she had to admit it would be difficult to divert her cousin from the lasting memory of his parents, who weren't there anymore. She then decided to step it up:
'I haven't been sorted into Slytherin', she announced after a deep breath. 'As you said... You were wrong...'
'Oh...?' he muttered, faraway.
'Nor Gryffindor, nor Ravenclaw...'
A compulsive ephemerid laugh seized the young man:
'He sorted you into Hufflepuff... Well. I guess I'm going to stand you longer than I thought...'
'I'm not in Hufflepuff either...'
That last sentence awakened Eliot's interest. He raised his head and met Kate's insistent gaze.
'What?! But, where did they send you then? At the house elves'? At the ghosts'?'
'The Sorting Hat sent me into... Shatterfly.'
'You're kidding me. There's a new house? With a princess name? And how many of you are there?'
'I am... Well, I'm on my own', she muttered as she blushed. 'That's so strange... No one has managed to explain. Why it happened to me. I'm crashing at Gryffindor until the mystery is solved, but I think I'm going to wait a long time...!'
Kate's voice was shaking while she was pronouncing those words, as a terrible reality falling onto her. A squatter; that's what she was reduced to. Unless she integrates the evidence that Shatterfly only was a blunder of the Sorting Hat.
The moon was high in the sky that night and its light was passing through Kate's window. The branches of the tree were sweeping their shadows across the floor, where parchments, wrinkled uniforms and school supplies were strewing out. The young girl was sleeping, her back on the translucent light, her face relaxed by the serenity of her sleep, lulled by dreams about Hogwarts, Quidditch and new spells. Innocence was rendering her features smooth, emphasized by her brown curls fitting the curves of her chin. At her feet bent against her, Sir Sulkington was coiled up, in a spotless ball, like a small furred moon on the dark sheets.
And in the shadow of the door left half-opened, Eliot's brown eyes, rendered black by the night, were looking over this scene. His fist clenched on his thigh, the reliefs of his neck moved while a not reassuring smile stretched his fleshy lips, turning his apathetic expression into a threatening face. One small purple reflection passed through his iris as a feminine voice reverberated in his mind: 'And you will bring me Kate Whisper.'
'Eliot?'
The teenager turned towards the whisper his uncle had just pronounced, on the other side of the corridor. Phil had gotten out of his room, his eyes sharp despite the late hour, wearing nothing but trousers, his wand in his hand gleaming in the dark.
'Why are you still up at this time...?'
'I'm just coming back from the toilets', declared Eliot, looking sleepy.
'Okay... Go back to your room, son, get some rest...'
With piercing eyes and eyebrows frowned, he watched the young man going back to his room and closing the door. The bad feeling that had pushed him to wake up appeared to be judicious: discovering his nephew watching behind the door of his daughter's room aroused suspicions he wasn't about to burry yet...
The little family decided to make the trip to London on the last days of August in order to make the school purchases and, for the kids, to take the Hogwarts Express. Eliot might have come back in the Whisper family, their financial situation didn't allow them to make several trips and to rent rooms for a long time.
Her clothes, last year's supplies, compass, Sir Sulkington's stuffs, purple scarf... Kate had checked her luggage at least three times before she decided to close the trunk, unsuccessfully. It was too full to close! All of this under the sneaky look of Sir Sulkington, lying on the bed as he was taking pleasure in contemplating human stupidity. She had to resort to her father's help, who settled this with a move of his wand after he had first made fun of her and this annoying obsession that pushes girls into filling their bags more than necessary, even if it meant pretending they put an entire staff of makeup artists house elves in. After a climbing down, for the least precarious, during which she almost got carried down by the weight of her trunk three times, she loaded it at the back of the car, helped by her mother. The latter was quite febrile at the idea of putting a foot in Diagon Alley, about which she heard so many times. All the more since she was aware of the reasons of this war, that had torn apart the wizarding world. With all those stories of pure blood, racial hatred and Muggles hatred... Grace had always been sensitive to other people's looks on her and that uncommon situation she was about to live was making her uncomfortable despite her impatience to discover this facet of the world. As for Eliot, as talkative as he was since he'd been back, Kate felt he was apprehending this new year, fearful at the idea of catching up, but also to see again his friends, who lived two school years without him. Two years; it was enough time to forget him. And, in times of war, to die...
All four of them left the house, their heads full of questions, in such unusual moment...
'That dingy pub?!'
'Sure, darling!'
'If I catch the scab, I'm warning you, I'll burn up your car in retaliation!'
'Oh, that's not my problem if you drink too much! Don't go after my car!'
'Not the hangover, the scab! That's a sickness! A parasite!'
'I learn more and more each day! I didn't know Muggles could catch parasites by going in pubs...!'
'... Forget it.'
Kate's smile stretched up to her ears when she saw in the distance the shop front of the Leaky Cauldron, just like she remembered it. She voluntarily hit Eliot's arm, hoping to share her joy, however, the latter just shrug his shoulders, which noticeably dampened the little girl.
It was full inside, as families, like the Whispers, were many to come from far, preferring to stay between wizards until the time for separation on platform 9¾. There were people from different horizons and different ages. If some students were discussing Hogwarts and lessons, some adults, not concerned anymore by that kind of conversation, were betting Sickles in the wizard version of poker in which cards can talk and lie to the opponents, bluff or even provoke them:
'So what? Are we clearing off?' were saying the cards of a tall wizard with a green hat. 'Sure your game is so lame it could make a troll throw up...!'
'I know your mother has a pretty fragile stomach, but still...!' retorted the game on the other side of the table, held by an old stocky man.
'It's packed', Grace noticed without daring to make a step before scanning the place with an alert look. 'Are you sure they will still have rooms?'
'The Leaky Cauldron adapts itself to the customers, my dear little wife', explained Phil, his pace slow, but light, overwhelmed by a contained joy. 'If there's need for more room, it will create it. There will always be available rooms as long as there are people to occupy them!'
He approached the bar, followed closely by the rest of the small family. Kate recognized the young manageress: Hannah Abott, who had tied up her hair in a ponytail that day. With a skilful move of her wand, she served two Butterbeers to her customers before approaching the newcomers.
'Good evening', greeted Phil with his usual appealing voice, 'could it be possible to have three rooms for three nights?'
He raised three fingers as illustrations, his two elbows on the bar. But Grace intervened:
'Three? Are you sure that...'
'I think Kate and Eliot are too old to sleep in the same room, they need privacy, if you ask me. But if you want their opinion, ask them yourself.'
Phil turned towards his daughter and nephew, who didn't react verbally, simply nodding to confirm his words.
'See, they agree with me!' he smiled.
'Perfect! Here. That's for you.'
After quickly turning back to take the keys hung on the wall behind her, Hannah put them on the wood and made them slide towards Phil.
'No need to accompany you, I suppose...!'
'We'll try not to lose ourselves in a straight corridor, thanks a lot!' joked Phil, who took the copper keys.
But as they were heading towards the stairs, the blonde manageress noticed Eliot at the back. She showed a furtive expression of surprise and left the counter in a hurry.
'Excuse me...! Wait!'
All four of them turned back as Hannah approached Eliot without taking her dumbfounded eyes off him.
'You're... Eliot? Eliot Burbage?'
'Yes, it's me...' muttered the young man without understanding this intervention.
'I'm Hannah Abott, I was in Hufflepuff, just like you... And you know...'
She was racking her fingers but didn't blink.
'Even if I wasn't in Hogwarts anymore, I learned what happened to you, by the others of the house. I'd like to present you my most sincere condolences... It must have been hard for you. We all sacrificed something in this war. You know, I lost my mother too, the same year as you... But I'm sincerely happy to see you alive and in good shape... I hope that... this new year will be fine. And that you'll get back on your feet in Hufflepuff.'
Hannah couldn't help but let a slight compulsive laugh out:
'The best of all houses...!' she added.
'Fat chance... only dweebs', whispered Phil, derisive, at his daughter's ear. [1]
'Thanks, it's nice', blushed Eliot, touched by this thoughtfulness.
'Take care, Eliot...!'
Kate carried her luggage upstairs and settled down in room 42. She stayed an hour like this, rebounding on the old creaking bed, watching the Muggle street emptying at the beginning of the night, teasing Sir Sulkington who was turning his nose up at her for having been locked up in a cage during several hours, rereading her Hogwarts letter. Then, when she grew tired and started to feel hunger, her stomach rumbling, the young girl got out of the room and scampered along with a light step into the corridor. However, to her greatest surprise, a familiar voice called her out:
'Kate?!'
The sudden U-turn she made got her face to face with a schoolmate she knew very well: Suzanna, her Gryffindor friend with golden curls, addressed her widest smile to her. The latter was accompanied by another girl, younger, but looking so much like her that, if you watched at them too long, you could be mistaken.
'You scared me!' exclaimed Kate, taking a hiccup of surprise.
'Really? I rarely do that...'
'What are you doing here?'
'What could I possibly be doing here? I'm hunting the griffon with a matchbox!'
'What?!'
'Of course not, you silly goose... I'm here until the 1st of September! Oh, by the way, this is my little sister, Stephanie...'
'That's Teffie!' corrected the latter, flushing.
'Oh, yes, I forgot she doesn't like her name...!'
Kate chuckled before she asked her:
'You're going to do your first year at Hogwarts?'
'Oh no, I'm too young! I just came with Suzzie because they forced me to and because I like to piss her o...'
'No swear words!' her sister called to order.
If the outspokenness of this little angel with big blue eyes had many reasons to amuse her, Kate preferred to remember her schoolmate's nickname:
'Suzzie? Are you serious? That's how they call you at home?! That makes me think of...'
'A house elf's name? Yes, I know. But, hey, may I remind you that you don't get called by your entire name either, you're not in the best position to make remarks...!'
'You're not wrong... Are you the only one here? I mean... from the house? Maggie, Scarlett, Moira...'
'Hmmm, I ran into a few persons, but none from Gryffindor. I know that your Hufflepuff friend is here, Tommy...'
'Terry?'
'Yes, that's it.'
'He's here?' Kate smiled, delighted.
'Well, I know that Terry has a room here. But there's no chance you're gonna see him tonight, he told me earlier that he was going to the new restaurant that opened on Diagon Alley. A nice place, so I've been told! There's an orchestra of singing armours with a choir of owls that play while you eat and there even are imps that season your dishes in front of you! The cups change their colours and shapes according to your mood and there's a fountain of Butterbeer! That makes me want to take photos...!'
Kate's eyes widened with fascination as she imagined herself dining in that magical place.
'Wicked!'
'You bet it is... We tried to convince our parents to go there...'
'But they're a bit uptight', completed Teffie, nodding, very serious.
'I mean... It's easier for Terry to go there, he's an only child! While there are six of us... can you imagine the bill?!'
'There are six of you?!' wondered Kate, taken aback.
It was true that the young girl never took interest in her schoolmates' family lives to the point of knowing their composition. And she didn't think the Simmons family was so complete, especially as Suzanna was the only one at Hogwarts for the moment.
'Yes, we're four children! I'm the eldest, then comes Stephanie... yes, sorry, Teffie, Veronica and, finally, Tobias.'
'And he's a real dick', added her younger, still with her industrious little good girl look.
'He's still young...!' stood up for him the eldest. 'He's only six...'
While the two sisters were starting to debate on their little brother's fate, torn between the persecuted youngest child and the unbearable kid, Kate thought about her situation. Only child, the only presence of that kind she had was her cousin, Eliot. But she never had the chance to cajole a little sister nor to play with a little brother. That kind of relationship was something she didn't know, so she couldn't regret it. However, maybe an additional bond could have allowed her little family to be more united; around polemical dinners, family outings, out of ordinary games and the eternal duels with her mother around a draughts game... Maybe her parents thought about it one day. Oh, she was sure about it. But in the meantime, there had been war. Something no child deserves to go through.
The evening ended around a meal at the Leaky Cauldron, with her parents and Eliot. Grace, who thought the wizards' dishes were different from the Muggles' on many aspects, seemed nearly disappointed in front of her plate of stew, even though it was delicious and concocted by Hannah. Then they had a long conversation about Phil's job and how he got Littleclaws, his faithful Northern Saw-whet Owl. Kate never grew tired of this story; especially of the introduction sentence his father always said when he was telling it: "It was a little ball of grey feathers I could have crushed with my single hand. Apparently it's fun to crush a chick, it goes: 'PEEP' in a spray of blood!" All of this under Grace's disgusted expression and Kate's clear laugh. This night, there was also Eliot's indifference. The boy still wasn't expressing himself. He didn't pronounce a single word during the whole dinner, focusing on his meat and vegetables, listening with one ear what they were saying, without showing great interest. And despite the family's tries to make him talk, he always came back to his silence, in which he walled himself.
As night had fallen since long, the Leaky Cauldron was asleep like many of its customers, only a shadow was up in the corridor. Phil pointed his wand on the keyhole of the door room in which his daughter was sleeping and locked it up with a spell:
'Collaporta totalum.'
Then, his eyebrows frowned, he looked at the door room nearby, occupied by Eliot. In the darkness of doubt, it was better to be prudent...
The next morning, it was the stampedes of Sir Sulkington that woke poor Kate up, all stunned. He probably saw a mouse skipping about and let his bloodthirsty wildcat's instincts out. Unfortunately for him, the rodent was fast and cunning, taking advantage of the fat, fluffy white cat's slowness to take refuge into a hole in the baseboard. Touched in his self-esteem, the defeated cat was moaning, crawling on the old floor and playing with his claws in hope to make his prey come out.
'Just leave that poor mouse alone, Sir Sulkington...' recommended his young mistress as she got up, her step unbalanced and her hair messy. 'It did nothing to you... And, moreover, you woke me up!'
As an answer, the animal mewed with ferocity without leaving his eyes off his target, scratching the wood. Patience is the art of the hunter, he was perhaps thinking. What a stupid cat, thought however the young girl. She dressed up in a hurry, staring outside through the dirty window. The first Londoners were already going to work as she was going to Diagon Alley, doing her school purchases. Kate never regretted to be a witch, even if it had implied living harshly those past few years. How could these people survive in such a dull world? Just living with their steel technologies, without knowing about the beauty of spells and easiness of life? Yes. Being born a witch surely was one of the greatest things that could happen to her. And she had to make the most of her luck.
From the deserted corridor, Kate perceived the noises coming from the main room of the pub as soon as she stepped out of her room. Perhaps her parents and Eliot were already woken up since a long time. She dragged her feet towards the stairs and climbed down the first steps, scanning the tables. That's when she saw, in front of one of the windows, Terry, her Hufflepuff friend, chatting with Suzanna accompanied by her little sister who was listening to the conversation with a resigned look. When her schoolmate's head, with her golden curls, rose up towards her and she saw her, Suzanna exclaimed with a teasing smile:
'And here's our star!'
A delighted smile broke Kate's face when Terry noticed her presence too. But as she wanted to resume her climbing down, her foot slipped and missed the step. In a deafening crash, Kate tumbled down the steps on her legs and fell downstairs on her painful back. Numerous laughs rose up in the room while others, like Terry and Suzanna, worried and rushed to help their friend.
'Are you okay?' worried Terry as he helped her getting up.
'Yes, I think so...' grimaced Kate while massaging her back. 'I'm used to it...!'
'The fall of a star happens so fast, but I didn't think you would so perfectly illustrate it!' preferred to laugh Suzanna before going back to their table.
Kate took a seat next to Terry, while Teffie, who had remained in her seat unblinking, stared at her carefully.
'We were just talking about you', said Suzanna while sitting down.
'About me?'
'Yes. And Shatterfly. In your opinion, do you think the Sorting Hat will send other students here this year?'
'I sincerely doubt it...! He's just gone mad on the moment... Old age, surely. Besides, how is the Sorting Hat?'
'Knowing that he's one of the founders' items, probably a thousand years old!' thought Terry. 'And no wrinkles!'
'But let's imagine it's the case! That there are other students sent into Shatterfly, just like you... What are you going to do?'
'What do you expect me to do?' wondered Kate while shrugging her shoulders, caught off guard by the question. 'To throw purple butterfly shaped confetti and announce them that all of this is just big rubbish and that this fifth house is just an inventiveness of the Hat?'
'Butterflies are lame', intervened Teffie. 'It's for baby princesses...'
'For sure, there are better animals', chuckled Kate, between amusement and bitterness.
'What would have preferred, a pig? A moth? A polecat?' mocked Terry.
'I'd rather be in a house that exists already, plain and simple...'
Hannah's approach interrupted their conversation they were sharing bent over the table. The latter put her fists on her hips and stared at them, each in turn:
'So young people, what can I serve you for breakfast? Tea, eggs and bacon is okay for you?'
'I'd rather have hot chocolate, madam', asked the little Teffie, detaching each of her words on a monotone, high-pitched voice.
Who couldn't fall for this little blonde angel who was staring at you with her big blue eyes? Certainly not Hannah, who melted, touched.
'Of course, miss!'
'Excuse me, have you... by any chance, found a red hair clip yesterday evening?' asked Suzanna, blushing. 'I... I lost it and I think it was during dinner...'
'No, sorry. If I find it, I'll let you know!'
The young manageress turned on her heels with one last smile and went to prepare the breakfast while Kate was smiling:
'Good to see you haven't changed! You still lose your things all the time!'
'Mum says she's been affected by a Likho.'
'A Likho? What is that?'
'It's a one-eyed monster that lives in very dark forests. And sometimes, it comes into houses turned into an old lady and it kisses babies over their cribs. After that, children always have bad luck and lose their things all the time.'
'That's a hypothesis that makes sense!' laughed Terry.
'Rubbish!' claimed Suzanna, between indignation and despair, shaking her golden curls.
'Who knows...! There are plenty of mysteries in this world!'
Speaking of mysteries, a lot of thoughts came into Kate's mind, whose eyebrows frowned. On her tongue, the words she wanted to tell them were clenching: her strange dream, Eliot's awakening matching with the solar eclipse... So she threw herself into the water:
'Did I tell you about my cousin...?'
'It depends...! You know, I have no less than thirty cousins!' Suzanna put in perspective. 'So, your cousin, I don't know which one it is...!'
'I only have one cousin.'
'You talk about the one... the Death Eaters tortured?' grimaced Terry, uncomfortable.
'He woken up.'
Terry raised a single brown eyebrow: a performance many tried to imitate but never as well as him.
'Really?'
Kate's expression, lips pursed, provoked a reaction from the Gryffindor girl in front of her.
'You don't seem really happy about it...!'
'Oh, I am! I am truly happy! Relieved, even! But... Eliot, he is... changed. I mean... we told him his parents were dead when he came back. And I have the impression that he doesn't recognize anything...'
'Is that a family thing to always be lost for the Whispers?'
'I'm not really joking... Can you imagine if, overnight, you learnt that you slept for two years and your family is dead?'
Suzanna blemished, as well as her little sister, in a perfect synchronized portrait.
'N-no, that's... yes... I understand', she stammered.
'I think I'll have to help him a bit for the beginning of the year. Support him and be there for him! I don't want him to feel alone.'
'That's very honourable, really Kate, I admire you', Terry reasoned her, impressed by her commitment, 'but are you sure you won't annoy him for constantly being in his way?'
'B-but... I can't leave Eliot like that! He seems so sad and...'
'That's normal if he's sad... Poor thing. But that's not a reason for turning into his house elf or his mother! You're his cousin.'
Kate folded over her seat, persuading herself that her friend wasn't wrong. The plates, teas and hot chocolate arrived, reviving the good atmosphere, and the conversations about everyone's holidays resumed.
'My father bought me a new film for this year!' boasted Suzanna as she pulled out the camera that never leaves her side. 'It's bigger this time! I can take sixty-four pictures until the end of the year!'
'By the way, you have to show us last year's ones!' exclaimed Terry while devouring his breakfast. 'I can't wait to see the one with Maggie levitating in the Hogwarts Express with smoke coming out of her bunny ears!'
Immediately, Suzanna's face lost its colours:
'I-I knew I forgot something at home...'
'I can't believe it, what a moron...' sighed her little sister, resigned.
The young Gryffindor waited for the atmosphere to settle down, as well as for her shame, everyone focused on his plate, before she rose her camera up and put it in front of her eye in order to capture a picture of her neighbours facing her. Kate was chewing with a vacant look directed towards the outside of the frame, while Terry was tracking down the last drops of yolk with his brioche bread. He couldn't deny his sometimes exaggerated gluttony, which made him look a bit chubby. But he'd rather say it was contributing towards his height, bigger than average.
'That's a wrap! Whisper and Diggle exuding quick-wittedness in the morning! What better way to begin a new year?'
In fact, Kate had been the last one on her feet: she noticed it when Eliot and her parents came in the main room of the pub, ready for the morning of purchases. They had finished their breakfast a long time ago.
'What are you still doing here?!' wondered her father. 'Go take your coat before we leave without you and you think we abandoned you once and for all!'
Confused, Kate left the table, after she finished swallowing her meal at maximum speed, and climbed the stairs two by two, nearly falling again, while her friends were staring alternately at the members of the little family.
In her room, Sir Sulkington was unabatedly continuing his roulades on the floor, well determined to be the master of his prey's fate that was certainly scoffing at him from its hideout. Throwing her old jean jacket, too small for her, on her shoulder and sticking her wand in her pocket, the young girl cleared off as fast as she came, leaving her pet to the deepest despair. He would probably grow tired of this...
What a pleasure for her to see again Diagon Alley and its special atmosphere, when the wall opened in the pub's courtyard. A beaming smile also broke Eliot's face, the first one Kate was seeing since he was back into life. On one hand, how could you not feel intense joy seeing so much wizards and young students passing by, searching for supplies? As if this whole disparate and magically harmonious set was completely natural.
'Finally... we're arriving to this sad period of trials', Kate heard two men sharing about the Daily Prophet they had just bought and were reading together.
'That will last a long time... Do you realize the number of Death Eaters and followers who are going to be judged within the next months?!'
'My opinion, it will last more than a few months; surely years. Not only Death Eaters will go through this.'
'What do you mean?'
'Move', whispered Phil while pushing his daughter by the shoulder as he noticed she was following the sordid conversation with great attention.
Immediately, the young girl's thoughts dropped out the discussion she was listening to and hung on to the shop windows. A lot of young children, not old enough to attend Hogwarts, were going into raptures over the window of the Quidditch accessories shop, in which was exposed the last model of broomstick. Kate had had the occasion to read an article in the newspaper mentioning the famous Moonbrush, heir to its ancestor's values, the Moontrimmer, created at the beginning of the last century by a brave craftswoman who, snowed under her very high-performance broomstick's orders, didn't answer to every expectations. Let's hope this one wouldn't run out after a week either! The dream of having such a broomstick had already crossed Kate's mind, fascinated by this item, which she didn't handle very well though! However, she knew it was, for the moment, rather unrealizable, especially as she had very few chances to put a foot on a Quidditch pitch without risking her life by falling off her broom.
'What is... this huge building?' Grace asked in a hiccup, taken aback by the place.
'Gringotts, one of the biggest wizarding banks in the world!'
'Well... there's no famine in your world! Is that... gold?'
'Seems so!'
'Let's split up here', declared Phil.
'Why?'
Seeing the anxious look of his wife, who pulled the corners of her mid-season long beige coat, he smiled and grabbed Eliot's shoulders.
'I will spend some time with my favourite nephew. We have to go to his vault and Ollivanders. Not forgetting uniforms. Those things grow up fast!'
With the Death Eaters' raid, Eliot's wand had disappeared the same day he had fell in his painful, long sleep. Whether it was stolen or destroyed, the young man was still deprived of his most precious item.
Then, Phil took out of his pocket a small leather purse, making the coins inside it tinkle, which he held out to Grace while giving a friendly glance to his daughter.
'Kate knows about the monetary system, she will supervise you if needed!'
'We meet here in an hour?'
'Works for me!'
After one last wink to the two women of his life, the family dad dragged Eliot with him before passing through Gringotts' big golden gates, guarded by the statue of a dragon. Then, Grace turned towards her daughter. The latter read in her eyes a growing excitement.
'So! Where do we start?'
Mother and daughter's journey began at Flourish and Blotts, the librarian, in order to get the books Kate needed for her second year at Hogwarts. As she leafed through some books, Grace was keeping this stunned expression, lips wide opened.
'How can we study the centaurs' migratory flow, according to the moon's phases?!'
In the meantime, Kate was helping herself in the shelves, respecting the list with great concentration. However, she took advantage of it to let her attention slip towards another shelf, without any link with her school purchases. "Famous wizards of Middle-Age" was saying the old sign nailed on the wooden wall. A part of the young girl refused to stop her researches about the so-called founder of her house. Despite her fruitless tries with the famous Hermione Granger, her departure didn't mean quitting them. On the contrary, Kate had to double her determination.
She ran her eyes over the edges of the books, searching for an interesting title. "The Small exhaustive Encyclopedia of Notable Wizards in Great-Britain in our distant ancestors' times" by Theobratis Troublemaker suited her. Checking that her mother wasn't around, too busy going into raptures over incongruous readings, Kate took the book from its shelf and inserted it between the two other books she was holding in her arms. Grace wouldn't see anything, thinking it was a book recommended by the school. And, indeed, when they checked out, no one made a comment.
'It will be three Galleons and twenty Sickles, please', squealed the little, plump seller.
'Galleons? You want me to pay you with ships?!'
'No, mum, it's the golden coins!'
'Oh! Okay! So... three... and twenty what?'
'Sickles, they're the silver ones, there. Dad really didn't tell you anything?!' the little girl almost got indignant. 'But what do you talk about at home, then?'
'Are you a Muggle or what?!' wondered the witch, a bit annoyed.
Transfixed by such an assertion, Grace blemished and tried to mumble a few words, before her daughter took over, avid to stand up for her.
'Yes, she is', she answered politely. 'Is that a problem?'
'N-no, not at all...! Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, this should be it! Thank you!'
When they finished their purchases, Kate and her mother went back to the meeting point, but nor Phil nor Eliot were back yet. Leaning against one of the walls around the place, they observed the sky. It wasn't very hot for a month of August and the sun was taking refuge behind a thick fence of grey, threatening clouds.
'Why do you know so little about the wizarding world, mum?' asked Kate, raising her eyes towards her. 'It's been a long time that you're with dad...'
'You know, your father always wanted to preserve me from the wizarding world. I know some things, objects, spells, he uses at home. But who knows why, he never brought me here before today.'
She let out a small nervous laugh before she sighed:
'You know, I have the feeling that your father isn't like any other wizard. I can see that even better here! First, he's not wearing the same outfits!'
Indeed, the days during which Phil had worn a real wizard robe were inexistent, as he was too attached to his Muggle jeans and leather jacket.
'Even if he uses magic from time to time, he doesn't speak very much about it. He has his car. He has his Muggle habits, in a way. He has always been like that, but especially from the moment Voldemort came back.'
Grace was pronouncing these words without any fear, having no clue about the taboo that had been lying in that name.
'I don't really know what happened before that caused such a gap between him and his world, his life at Hogwarts when he was your age. I mostly believe he wanted to protect us, you and I. Your father, in his young age, has befriended with people who, after that, became criminals, even murderers. This must have harmed him a lot... He never wanted to hide that from me.'
It was with great attention that Kate was listening to the confessions of her mother, who was opening up to her.
'Sometimes, I have that feeling that I don't know your father very well. But it's just a feeling...The fact is that he left his past life behind him to build a new one with you and I. And he's having much success with it; and that, on the other hand, is something he never stops telling me, believe me!'
Grace's smile was contagious.
'So, don't think your father failed in his duty because he told me nothing about all of this. Be indulgent and don't blame him. He did it for our own good. I think he would be offended by the remark you made at the library. He constantly doubts about it and, sometimes, he feels guilty about the choices he made, even though he doesn't regret them. So... don't hurt his feelings.'
'Okay...' accepted Kate, touched, as she nodded.
The day of the comeback, King's Cross station witnessed very particular crowds of young students with leather luggage, accompanied by parents sometimes wearing rather noticeable outfits. Nothing to arouse terrible doubts, but sometimes, badges or tie clips could be caught moving in the corner of the eyes. It was nothing compared to the reactions caused by the presence of an owl's cage. Yes, Kate always had that damn thought in mind... This might have deserved a book, entitled "Nearly-philosophical essay about the insane reason why Muggles ignore that much the owls on the day of departure of the Hogwarts Express". If not, someone really had to write it...!
'Did I tell you I almost missed my train on my first day?'
Eliot's anecdote caused a jump from his cousin. But she didn't miss that unique occasion to speak with him.
'You're talking about the one when two seventh years enchanted you shoes on the quay?' she chuckled.
'This one. The oldest love sometimes to make fun of the new ones; no way I could unknot my laces and I had to jump with both feet to move forward, falling every two meters. My parents had to throw me in the train before the doors closed.'
This memory caused in him a vast number of feelings; it was noticeable by the features of his face: brief anger, then relative amusement and, finally, grief.
Kate preferred to end on a more positive note:
'Well, when you're in seventh year, at least you won't lack of ideas for the new ones!'
'Oh yes. And I'm sure there are better things to do! Like...'
'Sticking Drooble's Best Blowing Gum in hairs! My father already did that... didn't you, dad?'
'If you start taking example on me, you brats, I won't answer to consequences!'
After a compulsive laugh, Phil still added:
'Until you can replace a teacher's whole wardrobe by glitter tutus and unicorns dressing-up clothes, there's some leeway! If one of you does better, I will consider him as my master!'
'Don't encourage them to do stupid things, ingrate father', said Grace as the two kids laughed, picturing the reaction of the teacher involved.
After they passed through the wall separating platform 9¾ from the normal people's world, the little family worked its way through the crowd that had gathered here. Kate recognized, here and there, some faces that were, more or less, familiar; elders or students of her year. Strangely, as every time that she had stepped a foot on the quay of the Hogwarts Express, she met Calypso Curtiss' eyes, the young Slytherin with black silky hair, her eyes shining and her skin pale, like an allegory of the pernicious grace. However, Calypso's act last year, when she warned Kate about Morgana's designs, aroused her curiosity about her. She wanted to thank her, without knowing where to start and how to tell her gratitude. Because the young girl with the green blazon always, in some way, impressed her. As usual, she was accompanied by her family, all identical, the straight bearing, the haughty look and lack of smile, the same mortuary complexion. There were her youngest sisters, who were twins, and her little brother, even paler than the other members of the family, that Kate never had the occasion to see yet. The latter greeted her schoolmate with a nod while keeping on walking.
While they were busy loading some luggage, Kate was called out by two synchronized voices and, as she turned back, found herself face to face with Terry and Maggie. Her friend hadn't changed much since June, even though she slightly tanned, testimony of the unforgivable holidays she must have lived this summer. Kate felt a twinge of regret at the idea that she didn't manage to come to the Quidditch world cup in Singapore, the final match at which the little girl had had the chance to be. Peru had been crowned world champion, the only title this legendary team wasn't possessing yet.
Maggie didn't start by greetings, but by her usual smirk:
'Can we see your socks?'
Under normal circumstances, anyone could have found this question completely absurd. But Kate remembered what Terry told her at the Leaky Cauldron on the day before: he and Maggie got into a new deal involving the colour of Kate's socks on the day of the comeback. The two friends never missed a chance to beat the other into insane challenges and poor Kate often found herself, against her will, in the middle of them. However, hoping to win this one at all costs, Terry told the most concerned person. He bet her socks would be green and Maggie, that they would be purple. Twist of fate: Kate had no green socks and the two friends found themselves having to magically turn the colour in her room at the Leaky Cauldron in order to make Terry win.
Pretending not to understand why, Kate, as she wasn't wearing the school uniform imposing grey or black socks with the skirt, raised one of her trousers' legs, revealing her green socks. This view made Maggie blemish and Terry smile.
'How dare you do this to me right from the start of the year?!' she took offense.
'Hello Maggie, I'm glad to see you too!'
'Purple socks would have killed you, for charred salamander's sake?! Purple is your colour, why are you wearing green?!'
'I won', reminded Terry, proud of himself.
'You and I, we're going to talk tonight!' Maggie kept on, pointing out Kate with her finger. 'I'm thinking about imposing you to sleep on the floor in order to teach you to wear purple more often!'
Yet, her threats were greeted by chuckles more than by indignant or fearful looks. It was good to see that the little girl was remaining faithful to herself. Whimsical, terribly bad loser and easily irritable.
'And... what does Maggie have to do this time?'
'Kate!' called her father as the train was leaving.
'I'll tell you when we're in the train!' said Terry before clearing off to say goodbye to his own parents, while Maggie couldn't manage to get over this new defeat, grabbing her hair by the handful and muttering all sorts of imprecations against her friend.
Kate joined her parents as Eliot scanned his environment with a bit absent look, like he was vaguely searching for some faces he knew. But no former schoolmate called him out or came to meet him.
'You should take off before the train goes without you!' worried Grace as most of the students were already inside the Hogwarts Express.
'She's right, it's out of the question that I put up with you two at home for ten months!' joked Phil.
He paternally rubbed Eliot's mop of hair and hugged his daughter before Grace did too.
'Look after your cousin', she whispered.
'I promise, mum.'
'And take care of you.'
'With your lucky charm pendant, I'm safe!' Kate reassured her as she showed the amethyst disk she was wearing around her neck.
'Knowing you, you're able to fall into a crack full of Screwts if you don't watch out, so I repeat what your mother said: stay on your guard and...'
'Yes, I know dad, I know... The war, all this, I know your drill.'
'What a smart girl, just like her dad!'
Then, they climbed on the train, but Kate couldn't help herself from looking behind, at her parents, in the middle of the congregated crowd who was addressing their last goodbyes. A brief moment of sadness that would soon be replaced by the joy of going back to school. However, she had this awkward feeling whispering that, by the time she would come back, nothing would be the same in the Whisper family... A bad feeling she couldn't fight down deep inside of her...
[1] In French the word "blaireau" is the same for "badger" and "dweeb". It's an "insult" as well as the name of the animal, hence Phil's joke.