14. Bonny Life
Getting along with Fred proved harder to do than I first expected. Even agreeing to it had been a struggle at the time but this…this was a nightmare. Whenever the twins popped down for a snack or a chat I made a point to ask Fred a question or laugh at his jokes (not that I needed to force it; he was incredibly funny, I found). But he always gave me this weird look, one which I could not discern, before giving in to a scowl and grumbling a short response. It had been that way for the last few days.
The first (and worst) effort to befriend the second Weasley twin happened the day after my agreement when they had come down to the kitchen before dinner.
"We need to know what you're making, Princess! We've got a bet going where if we're right about what's on for dinner tonight, we'll make galleons!" George had pleaded, kneeling in front of my position on the armchair.
"Go and ask the house elves, then. I'm busy," I had replied, nibbling on the end of a quill as I attempted my ancient runes homework. It wasn't as hard as I thought. It was only George's constant nagging that had my head fogged. His hair kept falling into his eyes and he would impatiently brush it away only for it to lazily swing back. How could it be that just by him sitting there I'd be so easily distracted? It was driving me insane. And those damn large eyes…
It was almost as if he didn't want me to study.
"But we can't understand them! They don't speak English, not like you."
I had to lift my eyes to meet his at that. "Last I heard they spoke perfectly well…Mr Wheezy," I grinned.
"See!" He pointed his long finger in my face. "They can't even say Weasley."
"Bugger off, I have to do this."
"Uh, FRED! You come and try, this woman's bloody stubborn."
I paled instantly. I was sure Fred had done so as well but I wasn't about to look at him and check. He had been leaning against the bricks around the fireplace behind George, his hands resting lazily in his pockets and his leg perched up behind him. George's face was urging me to speak up first.
I sighed deeply. "Fred, who's idea was it to make this bet?"
Fred looked up at me, his face somewhat shocked. I smiled softly in encouragement, my eyes flitting to George briefly to see him grinning at me.
"George's," Fred replied.
"And does it bother you if you lose the bet?"
He scoffed. "Of course it bloody does. We need that money. I'm sure you wouldn't understand the importance of wizard money and why we need it."
Silence followed. My mouth hung open and my eyes burned at his stab. Fred stared.
"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" George demanded.
He didn't reply, just conveyed the meaning to George with a single long look. I wiped my eyes hastily with the sleeve of my jumper behind George's back.
I told the boys the menu for dinner. They probably didn't hear me, or they made no notice of it. Either way, I departed into the bustle of the house elves straight after.
My insecurities played with me at night, taunting me; hopes and dreams of being accepted crushed in a moment. Nightmares plagued me, only lasting seconds; long enough for me to shy away from late night walks and discussions with Dumbledore.
The twins still came every day. I continued to make small talk with Fred, always incited by George first, but stopped after a sentence or two. I didn't want to speak to him. Fear lingered in the back of my head if he ever made a reference to my being a squib again. It was horrible hearing those words from someone who looked exactly like George. Whenever Fred opened his mouth I always found myself wincing; imagining stabbing words coming from George, my only friend at Hogwarts, would destroy me. So I avoided it as much as possible.
My mood dampened as November blew away and December descended, from my busy schedule with homework, classes and cooking, to the polarisation between the Hogwarts house elves and the two new arrivals: Dobby and Winky. Dobby took an instant liking to the twins, giving them whatever they wanted regardless of how extreme and odd their requests were ("A peanut butter and bacon sandwich for me-" "-and a beef trifle with gravy and custard for me.").
Winky, on the other hand, was constantly blubbering and drinking her sorrows down to the bottom of a bottle of butterbeer. All the house elves were disgusted with the both of them; Dobby, for him expressing his freedom, and Winky for dishonouring their race by behaving so abysmally.
No matter how hard I tried, she wouldn't see sense. Everything I said made her cry even harder, made her hate me even more.
And that's what she was doing now: weeping away into a dirty dish towel on a stool somewhere.
"What's this one called?"
"That's moussaka," I answered, swatting George's hand away from the dish as he attempted to prod it.
"And this one?" he asked, pointing to a steaming pot. He was without Fred today, something about the crabby twin not spending enough time with his friends. It had stung a bit when George said that, that the Fred Weasley who I had heard stories about throughout the years, the same Fred who I had been dying to meet, to play with, didn't recognise me as a friend, but as an inferior. But then I realised the alternative would be him being in the kitchen with us and making everything awkward and tense, and I sighed in relief. Especially seeming as I was thinking of George all day, waiting by the minutes for his pleasant company.
"Kavarma," I replied absentmindedly, stirring the pot over a house elf's head and droopy ears.
"What 'bout this one?"
"Bouillabaisse."
"This?"
"Shepherd's pie, idiot."
"Ooh, what's-"
"George!" I snapped. He jumped away from the tart and grinned at me.
"Yes, Ella dearest?"
"Quit it, I'm busy," I said, rushing to chop some vegetables on a nearby table while mentally revising the twelve uses for dragons blood. Oven cleaner…Spot remover…curing certain injuries…
"Whyyyyyy?" George groaned. "Sit down for a minute."
"I can't. Go and…prank Snape or something."
George hopped onto the table beside the chopping board. "How 'bout Filch? Y'know, I don't think he fully appreciated the Boil-ing Bonbons in his tea from the other day. Not enough boils on his nose, I reckon. I'm sure Fred has some more stashed away in-"
"No," I said firmly, placing all my attention on George. "You will do no such thing to Filch."
George frowned. "Why not? You were all for us pranking Snape a minute ago."
"Yes, but that's Snape," George furrowed his eyebrows and gestured for me to explain further. "Snape can sort himself out within seconds after whatever you do to him. Filch can't."
"And that's what makes it so funny," he drawled as if he were speaking to a child.
I slammed the knife down on the table. Several house elves jumped upon hearing the sound resonate in the kitchen. Winky's incessant crying carried on. "Because he's a squib."
George's eyes widened in realisation. I moved back to the stove, now recalling the differences between Monkhood and Wolfsbane.
"Ella, I didn't mean that! Shit, I'm sorry."
I ignored him.
"Come on Ella. I'll prank Snape, just for you."
Same plant…also known as aconite…
"You know I didn't mean it! What's wrong with you today?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You of all people should know what today is."
George quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah. I do. It's the 3rd December. Thursday, to be more accurate."
"Unbelievable," I scoffed. "The one day that I thought I could actually rely on you, and you just…"
"Just what?" he asked, his voice low.
I licked my dry lips and looked up to the high ceiling. Above us, the students and professors were slowly piling into the Great Hall for their dinner. "You forgot."
And without another word I turned around and walked into the cupboard to my dorm.
There was a narrow hallway with a small ceiling. I had to duck down slightly so as not to hit my head. After all, Helga Hufflepuff couldn't have expected a squib to be working amongst elves, so why would she provide facilities suited for us? Doors were lined up along the wall, each with a number from one to thirty-two. The house elves were roomed in a group of three or four, Dobby and Winky having their own dorms. I shuffled towards the door with the number one carved into it. Thankfully Dumbledore gave me the first door so I wouldn't have to walk far down the small hall hunched over.
I pushed the door open to the dorm I shared with Bonnie, the ceilings magicked higher. The calendar on the wall beside the full length mirror stared back at me. The violent purple and green circled around the 3rd December over and over again. I walked over to it. There was a picture on the mirror, one that was taken years ago. Nanny Anne's pale face and blonde frizz with only the faintest hint of grey smiled out of the unmoving picture; Bill's small eyes disappeared into the mass of hair on his face and his hat, but they held his usual twinkle, the love for Nanny Anne evident in his every feature. And then there was me. Little ten year old me, grinning with massive and gapped teeth, stretching myself up on my toes. My chestnut brown hair was in a bun that had been sleek and elegant in the morning but mussed up after running around with Jimmy, highly contrasting my floral dress that I had been forced into just for the picture. Both Nanny Anne's and Bills arms were around me.
Tears were trailing silently down my face once I'd finished analysing the picture; my first ever happy family picture with no forced smiles or rigid postures. The photographer had been a muggle and wouldn't allow Jimmy in it (although if you looked very closely you could see the tip of a nose and the edge of a purple party hat just about poking in). I lifted my fingers to ghost over each individual, starting with little me…moving onto grizzly bear Bill…and then Nanny Anne. Bonny Nanny Anne.
The morning was cold when I snuck out the house, Jimmy hot on my heels. Well, I wasn't exactly sneaking out – I had Bill's permission to leave before either him or Nanny Anne awoke. But I had to be quiet: Nanny Anne had a tendency to wake up before everyone and get started on breakfast and some early morning shopping.
So, it was with quick, silent feet that Jimmy and I ran down the market. The streets were blissfully barren as we stopped outside Imogen's Bakery, chugging in as much cold air.
"'Bout time you got here," came his voice.
"Wasn't sure whether you were able to come," I answered breathlessly.
"Well here I am! Did you really doubt me?"
"It's not like you could magic yourself sick enough to get off school early," I scoffed. He returned it with a cheeky smile.
"You never know, I could be a wizard!"
I scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, alright George. Now come on, we need to go shops."
He saluted me. "Yes ma'am! Where to first?"
"Imogen's, duh. Idiot." George shoved me into the bakery roughly, making me stumble.
"Watch it, little one," he smirked. I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Oh, not you two again," Imogen huffed upon seeing us in front of the counter but couldn't help a smile.
George grinned. "Lovely Immy! Boy, do we have an order for you today."
After retrieving all of our goods from various stores, we returned home, greeted by the silence, punctuated only by Bill's outrageous snored. We giggled as we heard a light slap, and Bill's snoring halted momentarily…before resuming after a moment even louder.
"To the kitchen," I whispered to George.
Jimmy led the way and we placed our bags on the circular dining table. After dishing out the orders, we each got started on emptying the bags and sorting them into cupboards, onto plates and trays and all over the kitchen. We were done within the hour, just as the two adults began to wake.
"Shh!" George hushed my excited giggling and clamped a hand over my mouth, but he, too, had a hint of a grin on the corners of his lips.
"Come on, you old sod, time to get up," we heard Nanny Anne.
"'M up, you crazy, bonny woman, 'm up," drawled Bill's sleep laden voice.
"I'll get started on breakfast while you get off your bum."
That seemed to stir Bill awake as he suddenly exclaimed, "WAIT!"
"What? What is it?" Nanny Anne fussed.
"I'll come down with yer, now."
The sounds of their blanket rustling and slippers shuffling along the floor alerted us to them coming down the stairs.
"One…" George whispered into my ear, his hot breath hitting my freezing ear and tickling me.
"Two…" I giggled. Their footsteps were down the stairs now.
"Three!" we said as the two figures emerged into the kitchen. "Happy Birthday, Nanny Anne!"
The old woman jumped back into Bill and stared at the kitchen. A large banner held up above the window read 'Happy 21st Birthday Gorgeous', food was laid out all over the kitchen, all of Nanny Anne's favourites (and a few of Bill's), gold, green and red tinsel was wrapped around the chairs, glitter adorned the floor, and Jimmy was wearing a bright purple party hat. Nanny Anne was speechless.
"Happy 21st birthday, gorgeous," George winked.
Nanny Anne let out a giggle. "Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that now, love."
"What? Nonsense! You don't look a day over 18," he grinned.
"If I weren' absolutely sure, I'd say you were hittin' on my wife," Bill chuckled.
"She's beautiful, that's for sure."
"Far too bonny for me," Bill agreed. He was swatted in the chest by Nanny Anne.
"This…this…I can't even…this is…"
"You like it?" I asked timidly.
She turned her kind eyes on me. "What were you doing out of bed so early without us knowing, young lady?"
My eyes widened. "Wha...NO! Bill said to, he gave me permission!"
Nanny Anne laughed her musical laugh. "I'm just joking my love. This is wonderful! I can't believe you all did this for me."
"You're worth it and more." Bill wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pecked her on the cheek, only for George and me to groan in protest. "Oh, hush it yous!"
"So, then…can we eat?" George asked.
Everyone laughed and sat around the table for breakfast.
"Say, George, shouldn't you still be in school? It's only your first year!" Nanny Anne asked.
"I got really, really sick. So sick that I couldn't stay in the hospital wing and had to come home," George said solemnly, shovelling another mouthful of food.
"Should yer really be havin' some cake for breakfas' if yer sick?"
"I'm better now!"
After breakfast was eaten and cleared, we all took seats in the living room. George had excused himself to go home, leaving his present for Nanny Anne under the table and promising to come back soon to see how she liked it. His departing mischievous grin left us all anxious as to what he got her.
"Well, seeing as it's my birthday, I say we have a family picture." Bill and I agreed. "And I thought you could wear that pretty new dress, Ella."
I was about to groan and protest loudly as to why that was a horrid idea, but then I saw her small smile. The smile that I couldn't ever deny, no matter what it was asking. So I nodded and put it on with some boots and a jacket to combat the cold air. The photographer took our picture quickly and we stood together, looking at it for a few moments.
"My family." Nanny Anne murmured.
"Ay, my crazy, bonny family."
I wasn't sure how long I stayed in my dorm but when I returned to the kitchen dinner was being cleared up and the chatter from above had gone, along with many of the house elves. The absence of crying made me turn to Winky's corner, only to see she wasn't there. I sighed in relief.
Bonnie gave me a sad smile as I walked past her, but said nothing. The fire was roaring when I made it to my armchair. But it wasn't empty. A red head was lightly snoring, sprawled out on the chair.
"George?" I called, nudging him in the shoulder softly. He made no response so I did it again, calling his name louder.
His head shot up and blinked up at me. "Ella!" George jumped up and hugged me tight. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, I swear I didn't mean to forget. You know I would've come straight to you if I had known. Merlin, I'm the biggest prat ever!"
"I'm okay, George, really. I've calmed down, I overreacted," I reassured him, tightening my arms around his neck.
"I should have been more…sensitive."
I laughed into his shoulder. "Did it kill you to say that?"
"Hell yes!" He pulled away. "I really am so-"
"George, shut up. It's not your fault. I always get a bit…"
"Crabby? Stuffy? Cranky? Arse-y? Bitchy?"
"Emotional," I said, "on this day."
George rubbed my shoulders and nodded. "At least you're not about to chew my balls off now."
I smacked his arm. "I wouldn't chew your balls if you paid me," I mumbled.
He tugged me down beside him on the armchair and leaned his head on mine as we stared into the fire. But, of course, it would be absurd for George Weasley to stay quiet for a few minutes.
"So that cupboard…"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes…?"
"What the hell is it? All I saw was spiders and cockroaches and rats guts."
"You did not see rat's guts!" I exclaimed.
"I ruddy well did! And a leprechaun shoe. But really, what is it?"
I jumped up off the seat and pulled George up by the hand. "Come with me, I'll show you," I said.
"Bonnie!" the tiny house elf appeared with a pop. "Can you do me a favour please?"
"Oh, yes! Anything for Miss Ella!" she yelled with glee.
"Can you let George come into the dorm please?" I could feel George staring into the back of my head.
"Of course, of course, of course!" Bonnie ran over to the cupboard and clicked her fingers, then bowed low to us. "Bonnie is done, Miss Ella."
I bid her thanks and pulled George to the cupboard. "Feast your eyes…" I smirked at his confused, yet intrigued expression. The handle turned easily in my hand and I pulled the door open and bent low in the hall, hurriedly opening the first door and straightening myself inside it.
"Ow!" George cursed, rubbing his head as he followed me inside. "What in the name of Merlin's left bollock is this?" He asked, mesmerised as he stood up straight in my dorm.
I grinned. "Welcome to my dorm."
"You stay here?"
"Yup."
"Bloody hell. This is fantastic," he murmured, his eyes watching everything in the room. They landed on the photo by the mirror and he smiled sadly. "I knew I should have stayed, that photo would have been amazing with me in it."
"I'm sure it would," I replied, sitting on my bed and leaning back against the headboard.
George slowly walked over, still staring all around, and sat down cross legged at the foot of my bed. "I never even thought of where you might be sleeping."
I shrugged. "It could've been worse; I could've been stuck in the dungeons near Snape."
George chuckled and stretched his legs out, making himself more comfortable. "Nice bed."
"I'm sure it's not as good as yours."
My face heated as George grinned. Before I could redeem myself George was quick to reply. "Want to try and see?"
My pillow contacted his face with a thump. "No! You know what I meant, arse."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. You can't deny your sexual attraction bubbling away for me- OW! WOMAN!"
We spent a long time just talking and catching up without the gauche presence of his twin lingering around us. It was nice, being with just George again, talking about nonsense that only we knew.
And then a loud voice broke through our conversation ("So then Fred, the less attractive twin, leaned against a suit of armour, fell arse over tit and completely botched the plan! And Susan thinks we're gawky stalkers now! Unbelievable.") George and I shared a confused look before moving out into the kitchen where the voice became much clearer and louder.
"Fred? What are you doing here?" George asked his fuming twin, amused.
"What am I doing here? Are you insane!? You disappear for ages to talk to your little friend, you miss dinner, even though they had shepherd's pie, and then you're still not back after another hour! What the hell have you been doing?" Fred yelled, his face as red as his hair and his arms flying about him.
"Whoa, easy mate," George soothed, holding up his hands in an attempt to calm his brother.
"You missed dinner?" I asked from behind George, my voice as angry as Fred's. "Why didn't you say anything? God, you idiot. Let me rustle something up for you." I manoeuvred around the kitchen and pulled out pans and food.
"How could you not know he didn't eat? Weren't you here?" Fred asked.
"Fred, leave her," George said. "I fell asleep when she was busy. No biggie."
Fred sighed and shook his head at his brother. "How can you call yourself a Weasley, a Weasley twin, no less, if you miss a meal?"
George smiled. "Happens in the presence of a bonny girl."
My movement halted for a split second and a smile crept onto my face, remembering Bill say that many times before.
"I guess you're excused then."
Once again my mouth fell open from the words of Fred Weasley. I turned to face Fred. He was looking at George but once I faced him, he flashed a quick smile, so quick I had to think twice on whether or not it actually happened.
"Great!" George clapped his hands grinning madly.
The twins left shortly after, and for the first time there was no hostility between me and Fred. George ended up taking an armful of sweets and desserts out with him; Fred taking some more savoury foods for them to share.
And then Dumbledore summoned me.
His words were soft and slow, but I couldn't hear them. No, I was still reeling over what he said minutes again.
"If you so wish, I can arrange a visit for you to return home to Ottery for the holidays; I'm sure you are greatly missing your friends. Of course, you will not need to leave for the entire break, not after you hear what I have planned for the students on Christmas Eve…"
And he went on, and on, something about a ball, another thing about clothes…he was endless! I waited patiently for him to return to the subject of Ottery St. Catchpole. It seemed to take forever, but eventually, he asked me again.
I said yes.
Memories and thoughts of being reunited with Zoe and Nate won over any rational thought. I didn't care about my cover story as to why I had suddenly disappeared one day without any hint as to where I had gone. All my mind was focused on was the warm, crushing arms of my friends; their gigantic smiles and crude humour; their contrasting personalities that fit so well together.
Nostalgia hit me hard. And all of a sudden I didn't care about anything else but my two older friends. In just a few weeks I'd be sitting with them by the fire and an over decorated tree with way too many baubles and loads of bells and tinsel, each with some hot chocolate or egg nog, surrounded by torn up wrapping paper. We'd go out and watch the fireworks late at night in the town square and play with sparklers.
Regardless of whether I would be there on Christmas or not, we would fulfil Ottery' traditions. And this ball Dumbledore had planned…well, that sounded like a disaster.