(HBP) CHAPTER SIX: Paris, Part Two

Ellie had spent so long enduring the excruciating pain resulting from overuse of her shield, she had actually forgotten what it felt like not to feel it.

But when Matis Dupont cured her, she remembered.

"I feel like I could fly if I wanted to!" she cheered as they burst out of the doors of the French Ministry, waving taunting goodbyes to the officials who glowered at their backs.

"You look like you could fly if you wanted to," said Fred, brown eyes twinkling with happiness at the sight of her. "Like a weight's been lifted off you."

"I can't believe it," she told them, shaking her head, as they strode out of the Place de Furstenberg, the square where the French Ministry was located, and toward the Louvre, which Ellie had been dying to see. "I can't believe he actually managed to cure me."

"A cure requires there to be an ailment, Mademoiselle," Sirius said in a tone that was clearly intended to mock Matis. "Maybe I should have just tried my own hand at curing you. Apparently I'm rather legendary at charming you."

Ellie laughed, though there was a bit of a quaver to it. "What did you do, anyway, to figure it out all those years ago? Do you reckon you told him something he didn't already know?"

"The spell is all about transference of power. In order to successfully cast it, I had to transfer a rather large chunk of my magic into you."

"That explains why she had so much of it," said Fred thoughtfully. "Which, according to Merida, is what kept her alive in that cage."

The effect of words seemed to hit Sirius hard. He had spent so much of his life blaming himself for Ellie's pain and suffering; she could tell it meant the world to him that he might have actually done something that saved her.

"But if it requires transference of power," Ellie said, "how can he perform the spell onto himself?"

"He'll have to find someone willing to transfer theirs," said Sirius, looking away from her. "Someone with a magical makeup similar to his—which is why it's supposed to be done by a parent to a child."

"A magical makeup?" Ellie repeated. "Is that like… a genetic makeup?"

"There's a reason they have researchers dedicated to this stuff," Fred told her with a weak smile. "Makes your brain hurt, doesn't it?"

"But…" Ellie wasn't ready to let it go just yet. "What are the chances that a blood relative of his is willing to do something like that voluntarily?"

Sirius put a hand on her shoulder at that, looking at her with tired eyes. "Don't let yourself go there, Ellie. We did what we had to do, and we did the best we could to protect our loved ones, our country, and the world in the process."

"And we would have knocked you unconscious if you tried to fight it," added Fred cheerfully, "so you remain entirely blameless. Now, then. Who's ready to see the Mona Lisa?"

They spent the rest of the day at the Louvre, which was so big, they left feeling like they'd barely made a dent in it. From there, Sirius took them to the five-star hotel he'd booked in advance—"Three rooms," he reminded them, "and no funny business." After popping back out for crepes and wine, they returned to their rooms to call it a night.

It only took about twenty minutes for Fred to pop into her head and ask, Think he's asleep yet?

She grinned. Amazing as the king-sized canopy bed in her luxurious room was, she would much prefer to be in Fred's room with him—or vice versa; she wasn't picky. Probably. He's had a trying day.

We all have. Maybe you should call it a night, too?

Dream on! I have more energy than I've had in months.

He chuckled at that. Good, because I have quite the night planned for us.

She pressed him for details immediately, of course, which he deflected for another hour until it was nearly midnight and they were both more confident that Sirius was asleep. Finally, he crept back into her room.

"Undetectable Extension Charm," he whispered as he pulled a small pouch out of his pocket, reached a hand into it, and pulled out his broomstick.

Ellie gasped, then gasped again as he pulled out Harry's invisibility cloak.

"How did you get that?" she demanded, finding it very hard not to yell.

"From Harry, o'course."

"And he just… gave it to you?" Harry had leant Ellie his cloak on a few occasions, too, but this was different. This was another country.

"He loves you, El," Fred reminded her as he headed for her window and unlatched it. "We all do. Now, come on."

No less dumbfounded than before, Ellie followed him to the window. He slipped out first, mounting himself carefully onto the broom and clutching the cloak tightly with one hand before reaching out to help her with the other.

She slid effortlessly onto the broom behind him—having quite a bit of practice at this by now—and waited patiently as he wrapped the cloak around both of them. Several feet of the broom stuck out on either side of them, but they had darkness on their side; Ellie wasn't too worried about being seen.

She wrapped her arms around him as they took off into the night—more for the enjoyment of being close to him than for balance.

It was nice, being close to him like this. All those nights at St. Mungo's spent beside him in her hospital bed had been different—meaningful, certainly, but tainted by pain, suffering, and fear of the unknown. Things were different now. She had been freed from her pain, and Fred had been freed from the fear of her death. They were finally able to be a normal couple again—at least, as close to normal as it got with them.

It didn't take long for her to figure out where they were headed; in the dark, she could spot the glittering of the Eiffel Tower from a mile away.

"You're such a hopeless romantic," she whispered into his ear as they closed in on it. "George is going to tease you mercilessly for this."

"Let him," said Fred with a chuckle. "He gets that, I get you."

She beamed with pleasure as Fred landed his broomstick on the third floor of the tower. She had expected it to be littered with tourists, but to her surprise, there weren't any.

"Tours end at midnight," he explained with a wink as he set down his broom and guided her to the railing. They kept the cloak on, just in case security cameras or guards might otherwise catch them, but it did nothing to impede their view.

"Wow," she breathed, taking in the vast, open city beneath them. "The whole city glitters as much as this tower."

But he didn't answer. He was fumbling in his pocket for something—the little pouch from before—and pulling something new out of it. It was a small, black, velvet box.

"Don't freak out," he said with a small grin.

She stared at the box, then up at him, then back down at the box, heart starting to pound. Surely it wasn't what it seemed like it was, right?

"It's not an engagement ring," he told her as he opened the box.

But it sure looked like one.

"It's iron meteorite. From an actual asteroid—at least, according to the Black family legends. I just thought it looked like your eyes."

It did look like her eyes—the same sort of silver-grey that she shared with her father. Only… "What do you mean, Black family legends?"

"It's a family heirloom. Your dad gave it me."

Was she being punked? What the bloody hell was happening? "You… my… Dad gave you an engagement ring?"

He laughed, though she clearly detected traces of nerves in his laugh. "I told you—it's not an engagement ring. Not really. I told him I wanted to give you a promise ring—you know, a way of showing you that I'm in it for good this time—no matter what. That I won't ever leave you again."

She expected her heart to stop pounding at that, but it didn't. He could call it what he wanted, but it was still a near-invaluable gemstone—and family heirloom, to boot—that she was supposed to wear on her finger as a symbol of Fred's love and devotion to her.

She was having trouble remembering why that was such a bad thing.

"He just… gave it to you?" she asked him as he pulled the ring out of the box and placed the box back in the pouch. "Just like that?"

"Certainly not just like that," Fred said, chuckling again. "Lectured me for a good three hours, then made me recite all sorts of promises and speeches back to him for another three hours after that. But it was worth it."

She had noticed Sirius and Fred getting along better than usual lately. She had witnessed some of their reconciliation firsthand, but this was different.

This was Sirius accepting Fred as a permanent part of Ellie's life.

The question was, could she?

"I know you're scared," he said, cupping her cheek with his hand. "You have every right to be after what I did to you. And I know it won't be easy for the next few years, with you at Hogwarts and me at the joke shop. But I swear to you, I'll do anything and everything within my power to make it easier for you—to make it work. No matter—"

"Fred," she interrupted, sticking out her hand. "Put it on already."

And as soon as she did, she kissed him.

"Let me guess," Sirius said the next morning when they met in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. His eyes, of course, were on the ring on Ellie's finger. "Snuck her out to the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the night to give it to her?"

Ellie blushed as Fred raised his hands in surrender and said, "If it helps, I spent the night in my own bed."

That much was true—though Ellie, of course, had also been there.

"I'm just glad you chose to wear it on your middle finger and not your ring finger," Sirius told Ellie. "Last thing we need is everyone thinking their precious Pop Princess is engaged at sixteen."

"People's Princess, Dad," Ellie groaned as her cheeks reddened. The truth was, the only reason she had put the ring on her middle finger, rather than her ring finger, was because it was a bit too large. Then again, she didn't relish the idea of how much squealing and questioning she'd be subjected to upon her return to Hogwarts if she changed it up.

Their server came to take their orders at that. Ellie and Fred struggled their way through orders they couldn't pronounce, then sulked when Sirius recited his own order perfectly.

"We should talk about Hogwarts," Sirius said as soon as the server left. "The Hogwarts Express departs in less than two weeks. According to Merida and the rest of your medical staff, you're cleared to go if you agree to take it easy. But Albus and Minerva have agreed to make an exception if you'd like to start late."

Any other year, Ellie would have immediately insisted upon boarding the train on 1 September with the rest of her classmates. This year, though, boarding that train meant leaving Fred behind, so she hesitated.

Please don't take me into account, Fred said in her head. Stay longer to rest up if you need to, but don't do it for me.

Promise me we'll find ways to see each other, she said back. More often than on holidays and Hogsmeade trips.

He hesitated, and she knew why: he wasn't going to let her Apparate to see him. It was too dangerous, and went directly against Dumbledore's orders.

I promise to do everything I can do find a way, he said.

It wasn't enough, but it would have to do for now.

"I'll go on time," she said quietly.

Fred reached out to squeeze her hand.

"We'll have to teach some of your classmates how to charge up your vambraces," said Sirius. "I'll talk to Minerva and Severus about them, as well."

"I'll talk to Harry and Ron," said Fred, but then he frowned, glancing at Ellie. "We haven't done it yet this morning."

"So?" she asked. "We'll do it after breakfast."

"No," Fred said, rising to his feet. "We'll go back to the room and do it now."

"But our food should be here any minute!" Ellie whined. "Surely you don't think anyone's going to up and attack me in the middle of the hotel?"

"Fred's right, Ellie," Sirius said firmly. "You need to get in the habit of doing it first thing every morning. Even a harmless accident could cause your shield to activate."

"So what if it did? It wasn't harmless accidents that caused it to go haywire and nearly kill me. It was Death Eaters."

"We don't know what Matis did to save you," Fred reminded her. "He cast a nonverbal spell and gave you a potion without telling us the ingredients. And now that he's gotten what he wanted out of us, he isn't likely to agree to do it again."

"He won't have to! You're being—"

"You're sixteen years old, Ellie," Sirius interrupted. "Sixteen, and you nearly died from that blasted shield. A few 'harmless accidents' might not be enough to kill you anytime soon, but what about in a decade or two?"

She realized with a heavy heart that he was right. No one had cured her—not Merida or Matis. They had simply hit the "reset" button and given her some fresh tools.

"Okay," she said, heaving a sigh and rising to her feet. "But after this, we're going to Versailles."

Gotta love Paris! Hope you enjoyed this extra-romantic chapter. We'll obviously have to get back into the swing of things at Hogwarts eventually, but I have some interesting developments planned for Ellie's sixth year, so make sure you keep coming back!