Chapter 8
"Just be glad I found you, and not that caretaker Goyle, the creep" Victoire Weasley, head girl, had said, before promptly sending everyone involved in the hallway skirmish to their respective heads of houses. All that is, except Sam (who needed to go to the hospital wing) and Ruth (as Sam needed accompaniment). The three other first years had sworn that neither had cast a single spell and shouldn't be involved. Victoire agreed, choosing to ignore the muffled "I would've helped if I couldv'e" that came from the region of the pumpkin that approximated where Sam's mouth would be.
Elle had been given detention by an unamused Professor Flitwick. Though the good student in Elle was cringing at the punishment, part of her thought it had been worth it. That night, her, Ruth, Albus, and Scorpius had gone to visit Sam, who was being kept in the hospital wing until his face returned to its normal hue (it was currently still quite orange). To everyone's surprise, Rose was already there, sitting at the bedside.
Everyone had been speaking and laughing with Sam. Ruth had produced a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans, and the crew was taking turns goading each other into trying a new colour. All, that is, except Rose. Rose had been completely quiet since everyone else's arrival, sitting in the corner and chewing her lips nervously.
Finally, she burst out with her confession. "I've been wrong" Rose said, tears brimming in her eyes. "All wrong." The hospital wing grew quiet as all the first years turned to face Rose. "I thought all deatheaters were Slytherins. But it wasn't a Slytherin who called me a mudblood today" she continued, tears streaming down her face. "Albus, you hexing that seventh year was the bravest thing I've ever seen. And Scorpius" she said, turning to address the blonde boy directly for the first time "I've been a git. And a hypocrite. We all would've been goners if you hadn't used that shield charm." Scorpius scratched the back of his neck, blushing. "I didn't do it perfect" he said, shaking his head "my dad tried to teach me before I left for Hogwarts. He thought I might need it, but it's hard to learn." "Still" said Rose firmly "I'm sorry. I never should have judged you like I did. I hope you'll all forgive me" she said, looking around the loose circle of friends in front of her.
The room was dead quiet for a few long seconds until Sam sneezed loudly, a pumpkin seed clearly flying from his nose and bouncing across the floor. At that, the tension was broken, and everyone was laughing. This only made it worse however, as the laughter kept dislodging more pumpkin seeds from Sam's nose, and setting them off all over again. By the end they were all reduced to heaps of giggles on the hospital wing floor. Since that night, Rose had been fully a member of their group again.
Elle smiled fondly at the memory, finding comfort in it as she headed to her very first detention, Scorpius, Albus, and Rose at her side. "Y'aright plaits?" she heard a voice ask teasingly from behind her. She turned to face James Potter, self-consciously running a hand over her freshly plaited hair. "Is it true that you disarmed Umbert Urquart with 'winggardium leviosa'? I swear Vicky's pulling my leg with that one. If it's true I owe you one though, I'm sure his ego will never recover. It's bound to put him off his quidditch game." "It's true" said Albus proudly, crossing his arms "and I think Victoire would hex you so bad you'd never play quidditch again if she heard you call her 'Vicky'." "What can I say Alli-gator" James replied, throwing his hands up in the air "I give nicknames to all the people I like the most. It comes from the heart you know."
"Speaking of quidditch, shouldn't you be getting ready for the match?" Rose asked James. James shrugged. "I'm about to set off" he said, "just here to tell Al that Dad's coming to watch, and that he could probably sit with him in the teacher's bleachers if he wants. It's got the best views of the pitch." Albus's face darkened for a moment. "I'm not going to the match. I have detention." An unreadable expression flashed across James' face for a second, before he broke into a grin. "Of course. Glad you're doing your part to uphold the good Potter name around here." Elle had expected Albus to protest to that comment, but to her surprise he broke into a matching grin. "Least I could do" he said. James clapped him on the back and left, heading towards the doors to the main grounds.
Elle was a few steps further down the hall before she froze midstride, realization dawning on her. It was the first quidditch match of the season. That meant that it was the first weekend of November. She had been so caught up in the excitement of the previous weekend, and so preoccupied with the threat of detention looming over her, that the meeting with McGonagall had almost completely slipped her mind. "You okay Elle?" Albus asked concernedly, noticing the look on her face. "Fine" she said, trying to look normal. "Let's get this detention over with."
The detention wasn't as bad as Elle had anticipated. They were simply to spend the afternoon with Professor Longbottom, cleaning the dirt-stained windows of the herbology greenhouses by hand. Though Longbottom wasn't their cohort's herbology professor, he seemed to know Rose and Al, and chatted with them amicably all morning. If the thoughts of her upcoming meeting with McGonagall hadn't been weighing heavily on her mind, she would have actually considered the morning rather pleasant. Professor Longbottom even let them go an hour early, saying they might catch the end of the quidditch match if they were lucky.
"You coming Al?" Rose asked, as the group headed off towards the quidditch pitch. "No." he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I have some homework to do." Elle knew that it was a lie, since she'd seen him finish all the weekend's work in the library last night, but she didn't speak up. As far as she could tell, Albus hadn't told anyone else about the letter she'd received from McGonagall, and he hadn't tried to bring up her 'family problems' to her again. It seemed only fair that she should give him the same respect.
The detention goers, minus Albus, made it to the pitch just as the scarlet side of the bleachers let out a great big roar. Rose sighed. "That'd be the game I reckon" she said. "Bummer. I was hoping to see my team win it's first match." Elle smiled apologetically. "want to head back and try and catch the last of lunch?" she asked. Rose shook her head. "I think I'm going to stick back and say hi to my uncle" she said. Scorpius, however, took her up on her offer and the two set off towards the dining hall.
After a quick cold lunch Elle and Scorpius separated, the latter off to the owlery to send a letter. Though Elle was still keen on exploring the castle in her free time, the owlery was one place she never went. She didn't like the reminder that she had no one to send a letter to.
Filled with nervous energy, Elle jumped about the Ravenclaw common room, counting down the hours until it was time to go to her meeting. She hopped from seat to seat, opening and closing books at random intervals, not digesting a word she read. Finally, Louis, who had been studying in the corner with two other Ravenclaw prefects stood up, exasperated. "Out!" he said emphatically "don't you know it's our O.W.L year?" Elle didn't know what an 'owl year' meant, but she could intuit from his tone, and the glares from other Ravenclaws around the room (the common room was never empty in this tower – there were always groups studying, at any hour) that she should leave immediately. Elle spent the last forty minutes before her appointment roaming the halls at random. Finally, it was ten to five.
Nervously, she stood in front of the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the headmistress' office. "Err… Dumbledore?" she said uncertainly. Instantly, the gargoyle came to life, shooting upwards to reveal a spinning spiral staircase. Hastily, Elle leapt on. At the entrance to the office, she knocked, her heart beating in her throat. "Come in Elle" she heard McGonagall call from behind the handsome varnished wood. Elle reached out one sweaty palm, and pushed open the door, revealing the Headmistress' office.
There were many interesting things to look at in the Headmistress' office, like the wall of portraits above her desk, or the delicate spinning metal objects on a table to her right. What immediately grabbed Elle's attention, however, was the man that stood before her. He bore such a striking resemblance to Albus that Elle thought it was Albus for a moment, and inadvertently, she said his name aloud.
The tall dark-haired man chuckled. "I see you know my son then" he said, running a hand through his carelessly messy hair. "Any chance you know where he's been all day?" he asked, in a tone that was trying just a little too hard to sound casual. Elle shuffled her feet, feeling put on the spot. "Er.. not sure" she finally said. Mr. Potter frowned, evidently not believing her lie, but stopped his line of questioning.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I've asked you here Elle" McGonagall said from her seat behind the Headmistress's desk, changing the subject. Elle nodded eagerly. "It's best you take a seat" McGonagall said, sounding tired. Elle's heart broke a little bit. McGonagall's tone was not upbeat. Elle sat in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk, biting back tears. She hadn't realized that there had been a quiet part of her hoping that her mother would be at this meeting, waiting to hug her with open arms, until she'd been disappointed.
Harry Potter took the seat next to Elle and turned to look her in the eyes. She noticed that he had the same green eyes that Albus had and thought it mildly comforting. "Elle" he began seriously "do you know where you live?" Elle was taken aback by the funny question. "Of course I do" she answered "I live at" Elle paused abruptly, her brow furrowing. She had really meant to say her address, but suddenly she couldn't remember it. Suddenly, she realized she hadn't thought of her address in a very long time. "I'm sorry" Elle said after an awkward pause. "I can't seem to remember."
Harry looked to the small little girl sitting opposite to him, his heart sinking. He had carried a desperate hope that she would be able to tell him what no one else he had asked could. Harry had been working on what he considered to be the most frustrating case of his auror career. The woman that he had been asked to track, was ghost-like. He had sifted through all the muggle government records he could get his hands on and had found no record that this Jessica Williams had ever existed. In fact, the only piece of paper that he'd found with her name on it was Elle's birth certificate.
He'd tried, in vain, to locate where Elle and her mother had lived. He'd questioned the manager at the dingy pub where Jessica had worked, and all of her coworkers. No one had ever been to her home. He'd asked schoolteachers and doctor's offices and had used some sly wandwork to get a look at their records. Every single one had the address line blank.
Elle was staring at him questioningly. "Elle" he asked "what do you know about where you lived?" Elle thought for a moment. He could almost see her mind whirring behind her bright hazel eyes. "Not much" she admitted "I know that it used to belong to Grandma Smith, and that she left it to us when she died." "Do you know Grandma Smith's first name?" he asked, grabbing a quill from the desk. "No" Elle said sadly. "She died when I was three. I only ever called her Grandma Smith." Harry tried to keep the disappointment from his face. "That's alright" he pressed on "was she your dad's mum? There wasn't a name listed for your dad in any of your records. Was Smith his last name?" Elle shook her head sadly once again. "I'm sorry. Grandma Smith wasn't related to us by blood. She took my mum in when she ran away from home, when she was pregnant with me. I don't know anything else about my family. My mum never wanted to talk about it. I don't know my dad's name."
Harry sighed. He had been hoping that he didn't have to do this, but it was looking like he had no choice. He had no other leads. "Elle" he said seriously "I'm going to ask you to do something for me, to help me find your mum." He rose up from his chair, and looked to McGonagall, who gave him a curt nod. He proceeded to the familiar cabinet and gestured for Elle to join him as he removed the shallow stone basin of the pensieve. Elle did so and looked at the runes carved around the basin with curiosity. "This is a pensieve" Harry said, running his fingers along the edge "it holds memories. You can enter the pensieve and look at memories from the third person. It sometimes helps to get that type of perspective. I would like to look at the memories you have from the day your mother left, if that's okay with you."
Elle was quiet for a moment, studying the swirling silvery substance that filled the shallow depression of the basin. She looked to Harry at last. "I'll give you my memory from that day" she said. Harry was about to thank her when she surprised him by continuing. "But I want to come with you into the pensieve the first time. I want to see my memory too." Harry smiled at the bold request. There was something in her tone that reminded him of himself when he was her age, trying to get the adults around him to listen. "Of course" he replied "it's your memory." He could hear the quiet sound of McGonagall clearing her throat behind them. She didn't approve of this bargain. Harry ignored this though. Who was he to deny Elle from her own memory? It belonged to her.
He taught Elle how to extract the memory from her temple with the pull of her wand. She got the hang of it quickly. Harry wasn't surprised. A moment later, he was grabbing Elle's small outstretched hand, and bowing over the swirling silvery mist of the pensieve. The feeling of falling head over heels passed quickly, and soon he was standing with Elle on what looked like a dingy tube platform.
Elle was easy to pick out from the crowd. She looked much younger and shorter than she did now, but her golden hair and high cheekbones made her stand out. She was standing on the platform next to a woman who was kneeling before her. Elle was pleading with her. Harry walked forward to hear. Harry was dimly aware that the older Elle beside him followed suit.
'please mum, let me come with you' Elle was saying, holding onto the woman's hand. Harry looked at the elusive Jessica Williams with curiosity. She did not resemble her daughter. Where Elle was fair, she was dark. Her hair was a tangle of wild brown curls, her eyes a rich chocolate. The eyes were moving constantly, scanning desperately the faces on the platform. She looked terrified. 'I'm sorry Elle but I need to do this by myself. It isn't safe for you. I just need to do this one last thing, and then I'll come back to you and we can go on holidays' she said, trying to smile at her daughter, but only managing a grimace.
The younger Elle was whimpering. 'I'm scared' she said, holding on to her mother's arm tighter. 'I don't understand what's going on. It's not even school holidays right now.' 'I know my darling' the woman said, her voice breaking. 'It'll all make sense soon. But right now, I need to go. I'll be back very soon, but if I'm not, leave here at sunrise. Don't go home. Find some place to wait for me, and never stick around there for more than a day or two. I will come find you.
The air in the underground started to stir, signalling that the train was moments away from pulling in. Elle was voicing her protest, openly crying and tugging on her mother's sleeves.
Jessica grabbed Elle's face, looking deep into her eyes. 'Remember Elle. You are the only dream I've ever had that came true. I love you, moonbeam.' As the train pulled in, Jessica leant over Elle. A necklace slipped out of the collar of her shirt, and Harry frowned. He didn't recognize the symbol on the tarnished silver, but it didn't look like something a muggle would have around their neck. His worries were confirmed a moment later when Jessica kissed Elle's forehead. A curiously blank look crossed Elle's face, replacing the previous expression of fear and confusion. Obliviated. That explained why Elle couldn't remember her address. Elle's mother slipped onto the train behind her, right as the doors clanged shut. She stood with her face against the glass, watching Elle for one moment longer, before the train raced off. Harry thought she was crying. The scene around him dissolved into smoke, and Harry and Elle, the older Elle, were once again tumbling head over heels in the darkness.