A/C: I'm not sure whether to be amused or annoyed to get a review that says this story "will be like all other stories like this and likely abandoned at 50k words or /- 20k", especially when I've already posted well over 300k.
SPEAKING OF WORD COUNT! I've finished writing up to December of Year 6 and, my god, the damn thing is over 87,000 words so far! To put this in perspective, the entirety of Year 4 is just under 85k. Considering I still have Jan-Jun to write... my dudes, Goblet of Fire year is going to be crazy long!
Saturday December 25th, 1993
The next few days passed with relative ease. Her friends dutifully vowed to keep their silence (knowing that one of their own has been obliviated before certainly drove the point home), and her family did their best to go about life as normally as possible.
Christmas itself was a happy day. Everyone seemed to opt into the idea of rolling her missed birthday into this year's presents, which resulted in surprisingly expensive gifts. New clothes, jewellery, tickets to shows, a one-man-band set (her cousins had a good laugh putting that one together), and more. Her favourite, though, was a rune-inscribed "electric" keyboard, with an accompanying card signed by multiple friends from school and the Weird Sisters. (Yes, she's crying, but who could blame her. She's feeling the love!)
In a hushed alcove of the house, she also received a 'non-present' from Aunt Sophie. "I've worked something out with Mal to make sure you can go back to school," she said. What that was, she wouldn't say. What was said was that Mal would only do it for a price. Part of that price Sophie paid up front, but the rest would fall to Melissa. "More snake parts, if you can get them. Also anything similar to that 'macaw'. Think you can find something like that?"
Basilisk parts. That's easy enough. After all, there was only so much shedding she could bring last time. That could be smuggled out with or without Fawkes' help. Founders relics, on the other hand, would be trickier. Dumbledore confiscated Slytherin's grimoire, after all. Still… perhaps there's something worth grabbing in the Room of Requirement? "I think I can manage that. Let's just hope he holds up his end of the deal."
Sophie gave a knowing smile. "He will. That man's more resourceful than you know."
Sunday December 26th, 1993
GILDEROY LOCKHART
will be signing copies of latest book
DISCOURSE WITH DEVILS
today 12:30pm to 4:30pm
Mary hummed at the sign. "Shouldn't he have added your name to this? You're just as much a part of that book as he is."
"It's alright. I don't want too much of a spotlight, anyways." Melissa tugged at the robes Lockhart had sent her for the occasion- a white, childlike robe embroidered with gold feathers to give her a look of 'angelic innocence'- feeling a shiver of nerves about her. Pushing the unease aside, she turned to her mum with a ponder. "Speaking of the spotlight, people might ask you questions, too, you know. Think you'll be alright with that?"
Her mum gave a peculiar smile. "I don't see why not. I've always thought of you as our little miracle. No harm in 'finding out' that there's more truth to it than a mother's love."
Both women giggled at the thought. God, I love my parents. They've adopted Lockhart's charade like a niffler to gold!
Of course, not that Melissa fully understood it, but a mother's love was exactly Mary's motivation to do so.
In the first half hour of the book signing, Melissa was unsurprised to see that her attendance had a mixed reception. Whispers were moving through the line, eyes and fingers pointing in her direction. Innocent. Her mind and body moved to express the thought. I'm just an innocent young girl. The damsel beside the hero. Look at him, instead.
She tried that thought herself. Gentle smiles, looking adoring at Lockhart whenever he pays her any attention. That's right. A damsel. That's all I am today.
"Hmph!" The huff came from the latest woman to approach, a 40-something woman with a pureblood bearing. "One would think the Ministry would have snapped your wand after what you did. A shame, to see what the world has come to."
Melissa flushed, her arm moving to retract her wand (she brought it out when the previous fan, a young girl from the Ollivander family, asked to see it). Ironically, Lockhart came to her rescue. "You are correct that she did lose her wand, Madam. Fortunately, after learning the full truth of that terribly tragic day, I saw to it that Miss Bennett was given a new wand. A silver lime wand just for seers, you know, with unicorn hair. Magic herself could tell that this little starling's situation is just as tragic as the other students, as I'm sure you'll read about in my book, Miss-?"
"Eleanor Flint."
"Eleanor! What a lovely name!" He signed her book with a flourish and a smile. Eleanor Flint looked torn between wanting to argue and wanting to revel in the man's charm. Fortunately his manager was able to move the woman along before the former could take place.
Melissa breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mister Lockhart. It really is impressive," she said a little louder than necessary, "how much you know about wandlore."
"You'll find I have a good grasp of many subjects, Miss Bennett," he boasted. "There's not much that can get past me!"
You literally just told her my wand has unicorn hair when I explicitly told you an hour ago that it's dragon heartstring. She gave a girlish giggle at his claim. Then again, unicorn hair sounds more innocent. So, fuck it, maybe he does know what he's doing?
Two books later, a shy woman in her early 30s approached the table. Lockhart took her copy and eased her with a smile. "And who is the lovely woman I'm making this out to today?"
"Alice Miller," the woman answered. Her gaze drifted over to Melissa. "I- I don't know how to say this, but I'd like to thank you, Miss Bennett."
Both members of the table blinked in surprise. "Me?"
Alice nodded. "I believe you know my son, Byron?" With continued surprise, Melissa gave a nod. "I took divination, so I know seers can't remember their prophecies; but, I just want you to know that, if it wasn't for you, my husband would be dead right now."
"What?! What do you mean?"
"My son heard about the prophecy, and he had a feeling it involved Azkaban," Alice gave an apologetic shrug. "He asked my husband to not work that day, so that he could call us. Of course, now that we know the real reason he asked for the call, we've given him a lecture about talking to his professors with such concerns. Still," she took Melissa's hands into hers, "if you hadn't made that prophecy, Eaton wouldn't be alive today. So thank you."
She was speechless. A part of her was unable to comprehend what she was hearing. Beyond the trio, new whispers rippled through the lineup. It took a deep breath for Melissa to find her voice again. "I'm glad he was able to save him. And- and I'm sorry no one else was able to decipher it beforehand. This must be really hard for your husband."
"It is; but I'm just grateful that he's alright." In a surprise move, Alice hugged the girl. A flash and boom of photography followed a half-second after. The moment captured for tomorrow's paper.
Well that was… unexpected.
The next surprise came in a mass of denim and leather, a group of shaggy-haired men that Melissa instantly recognized. Judging by the various squeals of young girls in the line-up, it was clear that she wasn't the only one.
"IT'S THE WEIRD SISTERS! AH!"
The men flashed roguish grins as their name was called out. From her left, Melissa saw Lockhart's lips pout, put-out by the sudden lack of attention. She leaned in close and whispered, "This is a good thing. Trust me. Call them over." His face scrunched for a moment, but then he smoothed out his expression and waved them over. Melissa whispered an extra detail his way, and Lockhart realized quickly what to do.
He rose out of his seat. "Welcome! Welcome! So glad you could make it!" He started shaking hands with the rock stars. "I've heard good things about your work. Oh! And you must be Hogwarts' Heroic Heartthrob! Delighted to meet you! Not everyday you meet a boy who's faced Who-Know-Who himself and lived to tell it! Always good to meet young heroes in the making."
The comment surprised Heathcote, but he moved out of it with practiced ease. "Just did what needed to be done. You know how it is."
Lockhart flashed a grin. "Indeed I do!"
Myron joined in, "Good thing, too. Seems we always need somebody to look after our resident angel," he gave Melissa a wink, prompting a blush out of the girl. "Speaking of which-" He walked over and swept her into a swirling hug.
Melissa laughed, enjoying the exaggerated hug, then stumbled slightly as he put her down and thanked her. "Thank you? What for?"
"For skyrocketing our career!" he answered. He then took her hand and gave her a twirl. Melissa laughed in delight. "You, my little angel investor, are the reason we just landed a ton of gigs in the muggle world!"
"Really?!"
"Dave, too," Kirley added. "He name-dropped us in an interview-"
"And 'Tori reached out to that show and gave them our CDs," Donaghan finished. "We played live on The Word two weeks ago and now offers are pouring in for our music!"
Melissa gasped. "That's incredible! Congratulations!"
"Thank you. Of course, like I said, this wouldn't have happened without you. Getting us a studio, your dad linking us to an agent that knows both worlds, the Weird Sisters wouldn't be where we are now if it wasn't for you!"
More talk spread through the bookshop; and the manager's eye gleamed with opportunity. "EVERYONE GET TOGETHER FOR A PHOTO!"
The celebrities didn't have to be told twice. The group all gathered around, and Myron collected Melissa so that she stood between Heathcote and Lockhart. A big smile, another boom of powder; and, with it, another photo for the papers.
Not that they were the only heroes to come in on that day. Harry, Sirius, and a woman (Melissa strongly suspected to be Sirius' "wife") came in to visit. The Weasleys, too, were just behind them in line.
"Ah, Mister Potter! So good to see you! And Messers Weasley, as well. Why, this is practically a reunion!" Another flash of photography soon followed.
With the wizards distracted, Melissa gave the other woman a mischievous smile. "You must be the infamous Chiara. It's nice to finally meet you."
They shook hands, their smiles matching. "You, too. I'm Infamous, am I?"
"Well from what I've heard from Harry." She noticed a glittering ring on Chiara's ring finger. "Though I'm sure you'll be infamous across the country soon enough. I see congratulations are in order! You're going to get married for real?"
"Thank you. Well, someone needed to make a- come si dice- an 'honest man' out of Sirius."
Melissa gave a snort. "And you'll be the honest woman to make a good boy out of him?"
"Good? Ha! I never said that!"
Oh, you and I are going to get along just fine.
"Glad to hear it! Well congratulations, again. Be sure to invite me to the wedding. I'd hate to miss it."
"We'll send you an invitation," she promised.
Harry then switched places with Chiara. "She seems nice."
"She is," Harry said.
"I'm surprised that she said yes. If it were me, I'd have been freaking out."
"She was, but not for long." He looked over at the couple, a warm smile on his face. "I'm glad, though. With everything that could have happened to Sirius, she's the right kind of Magdalene to be in our lives."
"Hmm?" She followed his gaze to Sirius and Chiara. The couple laughing and smiling as a reporter zeroed on the ring and barraged them with various questions. Harry's words percolated into meaning. Ah, right. It's 1993. "Yeah. I see what you mean."
Harry apologized a short while later. "We have to head out. Sirius promised to take the twins out to the apothecary for 'honorary marauder' business."
Melissa laughed at the idea. "Ho, boy. Do I even want to know?"
Harry's expression was a touch more nervous. "I'm sure we'll find out once we're back at school."
"That's for sure! Well, you all have fun!"
As they entered the final hour of the signing, Melissa found herself looking up at an unexpected face.
"Matilda Runcorn," Lockhart said softly, "it's good to see you, my dear. How are you and your mother fairing?"
Matilda genuinely looked nervous and uncomfortable to be here. "We're alright. As much as we can be." Her eyes slid over to Melissa, "Bennett."
"Runcorn," her voice quavered, ensuring to sound sorrowful. "Look, I-"
"I want to say something," Matilda spoke quickly. Melissa gave a nod, holding her mind and body to the thought of Innocence. "I've had a lot of time to think about… everything. Things I've done and said, and…" she swallowed a grimace, "I'd like to apologize for how I've treated you."
"You don't have to-"
"No!" She took a breath. "No. I really do. I didn't realize that I was wrong, and I was wrong. So… I apologize. Do you forgive me?"
HA! As if, you little bitch!
"Of course," she said as if it were a gasp. "You've been grieving, Runcorn. No one should have to apologize for that. Even if…" She shook her mind against what was about to be said. Instead she stood up and took Matilda's hands in her own, trying her best to look earnest as the camera snapped a photo. "I understand why you've been angry with me. I get it. Your cousin was killed, and I blame myself every day for the magic that led to it. No good person would blame you for what you're going through. So, yes, of course I forgive you."
A part of Melissa had been expecting a trap, letting herself get this close to the little witch. Yet the odds were in her favour as Matilda seemed to wilt in relief. "Thank you. …Then, you'll call them off, right?"
Melissa blinked, a look of confusion on her face. "Call who off?"
"You know? Your friends?"
Melissa gasped. "Have my friends been threatening you?! Runcorn, I swear, I had no idea any of my yearmates were giving you trouble! Just let me know which ones have been bothering you and I'll tell them off once we're all back in school."
"N-no, not your friends. Your friends." Silence followed. Matilda started to grow nervous, whispering. "You know, like your friend in the bowler hat."
Confusion reigned. "...Minister Fudge?" At Matilda's flat look, Melissa grimaced. "I'm sorry, it's just- I don't know anyone else that wears a bowler hat."
"What about anyone with a scratchy voice?" Melissa shook her head. "A giddy high-pitched man with a lot of creepy ideas?"
Another headshake. "Sorry, that doesn't sound familiar either."
Matilda started to visibly sweat. "The ones that came to Hogsmeade when the train took us home."
"Oh, sorry, I never made it," Melissa spoke evenly. "My carriage was one of the two that got hit by dementors that day. I had to take the floo home, instead."
"You mean you didn't-" Matilda took a step back, eyes wide in fright. "Um, nevermind then. Guess those wizards didn't actually know you and were just having a laugh." She gave a nervous chuckle. "I'll just-" She swiped a book from the signed pile, "be on my way then. It was good talking to you. Bye!"
Matilda skittishly walked out the door, with Melissa giving a confused wave goodbye as it happened. She returned to the table, doing her best to continue that expression. On the inside, Melissa preened over Runcorn's frightful retreat.
And just like that, my alibi is set in stone, and the threat is permanent!
"You know, I had been nervous about today; but it actually went well," Mary commented as she helped gather what few books remained. "I'd like to thank you, Gilderoy. I can't thank you enough for standing up for my daughter today. You really are a gentleman."
"It was my pleasure, Mary! I- of course- knew it would be a smashing success!" His hand grazed over the cover of one of the books lovingly. "Ah, if only it could last."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm afraid this will be my last book. I'm retiring from a life of adventures, so there's nothing left I can write about."
Her face hidden, Melissa smiled to herself at the reminder. Of course, her mother knew nothing of the vow he made months ago and was genuinely saddened by the news. "That's a shame. Maybe you can turn to writing fiction, instead? Or biographies about old adventuring wizards?"
Lockhart gave a slightly nervous chuckle. "Those are interesting ideas. Or perhaps I could fulfil my secret ambition to market a line of hair-care potions." He gave a haughty laugh. "The possibilities are numerous for a man such as myself!"
"How about tutoring?" Melissa chimed in casually. "You already have experience as a teacher."
Lockhart laughed again. "A charming idea. Though I find there's not much money in teaching."
"True. But for the right price I'm sure people would pay for lessons from you."
"Oh?" He gave a teasing smile. "And would you pay to take lessons from me, Miss Bennett?"
Melissa's smile grew sharp. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to, if you have time this week for it?"
Lockhart blinked in surprise. "Really?" Melissa gave a stiff nod. "Well then- I'm all ears. What would you like to learn?"