Chapter 4
My Dearest Elle,
I hope you know that I love you more than you could ever know. I wish that I could tell you everything, but it is not safe right now. To protect you, I cannot divulge how this letter found you. I hope it is enough for now for you to know that I am thinking of you always. I hope soon we may be able to talk more freely. I will try and write again.
I love you always,
Mum
The short letter had echoed in Elle's head since she'd first read it. She still wasn't sure how she felt about it. It had taken her three whole days to present it to her friends, who had been bickering in the library over their revenge plots. All had fell silent when she'd smoothed the paper onto the table, and they had all leant over to read it. The immediate uproar had been enough to get them kicked out of the library by Ms. Pince, who had been eyeing them closely since Sam had accidentally knocked over an ink well and loudly claimed he was 'just trying to do his best impression of the giant squid' when Rose had hissed at him the half hour previous.
"Where did you find it, Elle" Sam blurted out as soon as the tall doors of the library had been shut behind them. Elle shrugged "It was at the bottom of my trunk." Ruth narrowed her eyes at this "Elle you finished unpacking before the weekend was over. It's Wednesday." Elle shrugged again. She wasn't exactly sure why she'd waited so long to show her friends the letter. Part of it had been that she wanted to be sure it was real. She'd spent hours scanning the page, analysing every letter to make sure the handwriting was consistent, crouching over her wand light as her dormmates snored softly around her. Another part of her had just wanted to keep the letter to herself for a while – to try and find some hidden message within, to keep the tiny bit of hope alive in her chest.
"I can't believe you waited so long to show us. We have to go to McGonagall at once!" Rose cried, already setting off in that direction. "Wait!" cried Elle "do we have to?" Rose paused, hands on her hips "of course we do! It's evidence." Scorpius murmured behind Elle "I hate to say it, but I agree with Rose. It could be a clue." "I agree" Isidre piped up "it might not even be real. The aurors need to know." Elle huffed. Suddenly, her desire to keep her letter private made more sense. "We didn't tell them about the families last year!" Elle exclaimed. Scorpius countered, "that was different. We didn't have anything real to tell them – just that your mum might be connected to an ancient family that has no name. And the evidence came from a dark artifact. I could have been sent to Azkaban for even knowing about it and not reporting it, not to mention that my grandad would have been sent right back. They might have put my Dad back on trial too, just for a laugh. Most of the Wizengamot is still mad that he got off free after the war." Elle nodded. She hadn't really thought of any of that when she's brought the subject up. The depth of Scorpius' sacrifice was driven home once again. The guilt she felt from her reaction to the whole ordeal gnawed at her heart.
"Alright" Elle said finally, giving in. There was a voice in the back of her mind telling her that her friends were right. Still, she disagreed with Isidre. The letter was real – it was her mother's handwriting. She was sure of it. The group rushed towards McGonagall's office, but stopped abruptly at the sight of the gargoyle. "Uh, Elle" Sam asked uncertainly "how do we get in?" Elle realized she didn't know either. "Usually, the stairs appear after you say the password. Last time it was Dumbledore" she said, but the gargoyle didn't budge an inch.
The group of seven friends looked to each other, but no one brought forth any ideas. Rose started half-heartedly calling out what sounded like random names. Elle soon realized she was reciting all of Hogwarts' previous headmasters and headmistresses, in order. She made it all the way to Severus Snape, but the gargoyle never so much as flinched. Rose looked like she was about to start reciting another list of obscure Hogwarts trivia, when an exasperated Sam leapt forwards and started pounding on the stone wall behind the gargoyle. "HELLOOOOOO. ANYBODY HOME" he called out. To everyone's shock, the wall melted away, and the rotating spiral staircase was revealed. Sam jumped back "I really didn't think she could hear that" he muttered, blushing furiously.
It wasn't McGonagall who exited the staircase however, but, to everyone's general disbelief, the caretaker Goyle. The group of second years looked uncertainly to the heavyset man, who was surveying them with sharp eyes. "Business with the mistress?" he asked in a voice that was unexpectedly soft. Elle fought the urge to shudder. He gave her the creeps. She caught, out of the corner of her eye, Albus turning to give Scorpius a pointed look. "Uh…" started Rose, who would never think of ignoring an adult's direct questioning. Elle cut in "I'm here to speak to McGonagall. If you don't believe me…" she started, but, to her relief (she really wasn't sure what proof she had been about to try and give) Goyle didn't seem to care much about what she was saying. "Stairs are all yours" he grunted as he walked straight through the group and headed off down the hall.
Everyone immediately rushed forward, squeezing onto the staircase just as the wall was starting to melt back into view. "Ouch" Isidre cried, his voice muffled "Sam you're standing on my foot" "Sorry" said Sam, who tried to readjust, and was immediately met by cries of indignation from the others. By the time Elle wrenched the door open at the top of the moving stairs, Sam had stepped and pushed around the others so badly that the group fell forward with a loud "OOF" all at once, spilling onto the rich carpet at the entrance of the headmistress's office.
Elle, at the bottom of the dogpile, did not see the look on McGonagall's face, but her tone of voice when she cried "and what is the meaning of this!" was enough to let her know that she was displeased. The seven friends all scrambled to their feet as quickly as they could, Sam apologizing profusely. Elle got up last, pulling up her long socks from where they had been dragged down to her ankles. She thought it easier to just let McGonagall see for herself what was going on, so she walked forward and produced the letter, laying it in front of the older woman.
McGonagall donned a pair of reading glasses that she kept on a string of delicate beads around her neck. She quickly skimmed the contents of the paper, her thin lips forming an even thinner line as she read. "I see" she said at last, looking up to meet Elle's gaze, who squirmed slightly under the attention. "I take it you have confided in your friends about your… situation" she said, her eyes flicking over to the group behind Elle. She looked back to see her friends looking around the office in wonder. Albus reached a hand out to poke a delicate spinning gold object on a nearby table, and Scorpius slapped his hand backwards. Elle nodded. "They know everything." McGonagall blinked, but Elle could not read the expression behind her eyes.
"And where did you find this letter" she questioned, her voice still sharp. "At the bottom of my school trunk" Elle said. She heard Rose clear her throat and sheepishly added "on Sunday." McGonagall raised her eyebrow at this, and Elle blushed. "I wanted to make sure it was real" she rushed "it's her handwriting, I'm sure of it." "There are ways to imitate handwriting" McGonagall replied, waving her hand. Elle's heart sunk. How was it so easy to forget that with magic you could do almost anything? She supposed it was still hard for her to imagine her mother wrapped up in magic. The Jessica Williams she had known didn't even read fiction books, she disliked 'pretending' so much.
McGonagall bent her head down and studied the letter again for some time. Every once in a while, she would wave her wand over the parchment, muttering words that Elle could not discern, and frowning. "I would like to speak to Potter at once" she said at last. Elle shuffled her feet, unsure of how to respond. McGonagall looked up at the sound, for a moment looking surprised to find Elle still standing in front of her. Elle thought she might have been talking to herself. "Curfew is quick approaching" the headmistress observed, shooting a pointed look to Sam, who was reaching out and pulling books from McGonagall's shelves at random.
Elle was immediately filled with indignation. "I'm staying." McGonagall raised another eyebrow at Elle, who immediately lost the power of her anger. "Yes, surely" she said. "But I cannot justify having all of these students out of bed. Your friends can report to their respective dormitories." "Aww-" Sam started, but fell immediately silent upon catching McGonagall's dour gaze. Reluctantly, but without protest, the friends shuffled out of the office. McGonagall shut the door behind them, and immediately brought her wand to her throat. Elle looked at her curiously. She spoke a message so quietly that Elle could not make out the words, and a silvery tabby cat immediately sprung out from the tip of her wand and leapt out of the window.
Elle looked to McGonagall expectantly. "I've sent a message to Potter. He should be here within the half hour, I suspect." McGonagall then returned to the letter that was resting on her desk, continuing to wave her wand over it and mutter incantations. Elle watched, unsure of what was going on. She fidgeted with her hands nervously. Despite her reprehension, part of Elle was eagerly awaiting her visit with Potter. Some of the anger that she had felt on the train platform had returned to her, and she clung to it, lest the anxiety she felt bubbling in her chest sweep her away.
After what felt like hours, the door to McGonagall's office burst open. Elle jumped back in surprise, turning to meet Harry Potter's gaze. The older man's hair was windswept, his face unshaven. A curious lightning bolt scar stood out against the skin of his forehead, white from the cold biting wind of the Scottish Highland's early autumn. Mr. Potter's green eyes roved around the room, stopping on the piece of parchment. "Is this it?" he asked, entering the office with large strides. "Yes" said McGonagall, "it's safe to touch. I've tried all the usual enchantments and haven't discovered even a trace of dark magic. No sign of what they've used to imitate the handwriting either."
"Who is they?" demanded Elle. "And who's to say it isn't my mother's handwriting?" Mr. Potter turned to Elle for the first time, surprised by her voice. She didn't think he had noticed her sitting in the tall-backed chair opposite McGonagall's desk. "Well…" he started.