(OotP) CHAPTER EIGHT: A Tragic Accident

"Maybe it isn't as bad as we think it is," Fred said to Ellie that night after everyone else had filed upstairs. It was just the two of them now, curled up on the couch by the fireplace—same as it ever was. Ellie had considered retiring with their other friends, but after the shock of Umbridge's arrival and the lack of Hagrid—not to mention the general pain of being back for another year at Hogwarts when Cedric had never finished his last—she could really use the comfort.

"I don't know," said Ellie with a frown. "You saw what that hearing was like. I don't know why they never came at me with a court summons, but I'm sure they wanted to."

"They probably never came after you because they were afraid you'd win your case like Harry did. And having to admit to the public that Sirius isn't guilty, after all…"

He was probably right about that. She would happily go back to that godforsaken place if it meant her father being vindicated, but so far, it wasn't even an option.

"I just really hate the thought of taking classes with her," she said with a shudder. "And of Harry having to take classes with her."

"I know." He reached an arm out, and she willingly accepted his embrace, curling up into his chest the way she so often used to. "But both of you can handle her, El. You did once already, and you will again."

She knew she could handle a woman like Umbridge once or twice. But an entire year? Months upon months of classes—and during her O.W.L. year, at that?

"Hey," Fred said softly, stroking her upper arm with her fingertips in a way that was so soothing, it made her melt deeper into his embrace. "You're going to be fine, El. I've got your back. Always."

His words meant the world to her, like they always did. But they made her feel guilty, too. How much comfort should she be allowed to accept from the boy she still hadn't fully found a way to even be with?

"As much as you want," he said—obviously having read her thoughts. "It's a blank check. Just fill in the zeroes."

She sighed, burying her face in his chest. "It isn't fair," she mumbled into the material of his shirt. "I hate it."

He chuckled softly, his body shaking gently beneath her as he did. "What wasn't fair was what happened at the graveyard. If I need to practice a little patience because of that, so be it."

For what felt like the thousandth time, Ellie wasn't sure what she had done to deserve Fred.

But she was damn glad she had him.

Ellie had mostly ignored the stares and whispers of her classmates upon her arrival at Hogwarts, but the next day, they became increasingly hard not to notice.

"Might not be you," Harry reminded her weakly as they headed to their first class, Transfiguration, with Ron and Hermione. Dean and Seamus, neither of whom had said more than a few words to Ellie the night before, were a few strides behind them. "They could just as likely be staring at me."

"They're staring at both of you," said Ron. "The only person who comes close to as famous as the Boy Who Lived is the Girl Whose Daddy's On the Run."

"Yeah—about that," said Dean from behind them, finally bridging the gap between them. "Quite the bombshell to drop, Ellie. Was it true?"

Ellie hadn't been sure if Dean would believe her or not. It had been years since their confusing, sort-of relationship back in their second year, and he had proven himself as a good friend to her several times over by then, but he still wasn't nearly as close with her as any of the friends she'd lived with that summer.

"Yeah, it was true," she told him. "As was everything we said about Cedric and Voldemort."

Dean cringed at the sound of Voldemort's name, but he didn't call her a liar. "I believe you, of course. Both of you. This one, on the other hand…"

Ellie followed Dean's gaze toward Seamus, who was glaring daggers at both Ellie and Harry.

Ellie had never been particularly close with Seamus; of all the guys in her year, she was probably the least close with him. They had grown up together, though; she still remembered doodling caricatures of Snape with him in Potions class and hanging out with him and Dean during the short stint she'd "dated" Dean.

It hurt that he didn't believe her, but she knew it hurt Harry much more.

"We aren't lying, Seamus," Harry said darkly. "You've known us for years. When have we ever lied?"

"Well, for starters, if it's true about Sirius Black, that means Ellie's been lying until now."

That was a fair point, Ellie supposed. Only… "Would you not do the same if the alternative was risking your innocent parent's life?"

But he didn't look remotely convinced. "My mum read the articles about you two all summer, and I did, too. She almost didn't let me come back here, you know—to Hogwarts. Because of you."

"That's too bad," said Harry through clenched teeth. "You and your mum could have spent the whole year reading those ridiculous articles together if you'd stayed."

Seamus' fists curled at that, but they had reached McGonagall's classroom, and no one dared make a move with her so close by. So, reluctantly, they went to take their seats instead.

It became readily apparent by the end of the first day that this year would, in fact, be leagues harder than all the ones preceding it.

"We knew this was coming," said Hermione as they walked from Charms, their last class of the day, to the Great Hall for dinner. Ellie, who had missed Fred at lunch due to hanging back in Potions trying to wrap her mind around the gobs of homework Snape had assigned, actually ached with her desire to see him. After spending the entire back half of her summer with him, spending a whole day without him felt… impossible.

Feeling's mutual, he said in her head. Believe me.

"I didn't know it was coming," Ron whined to Hermione. "Sure, they said O.W.L. year would be hard and all, but three essays due by Friday, and we haven't even had all our subjects yet?"

"Count your blessings they're not due by tomorrow," Harry muttered as they stepped into the Great Hall.

"And that we haven't had Umbridge yet," Ellie added. But the moment she saw Fred sitting at the Gryffindor table, all thoughts of homework, Umbridge, and pretty much everything else in the world disappeared, and she ran over to join him.

For a split second, she almost kissed him. But then she clocked the dozen or so Hufflepuffs watching her from their table, and she refrained.

They don't know the full story, Fred reminded her. They don't know about Aleks or any of that. Don't let them get to you.

She knew he was right. Cedric's friends resenting her wasn't the same as Cedric himself resenting her from beyond the grave.

Still, it made her heart hurt even more than it had before.

"So," George said that night as he, Ellie, and Fred gathered around the fireplace. The twins were both working on their Skiving Snackboxes, but Ellie was content just to watch them. It felt like being home again. "How'd the first day go, Ellie? Any pretty fifth-years you need us to take care of?"

She smiled as she sunk further into the couch. Fred draped an arm around her, using his free hand to point his wand at various edible treats to package them. "Not really. Seamus was a bit of a surprise, but he'll probably come around eventually."

"The Seamus thing bothers you," Fred said without even looking up. "I can tell."

How did he do that? How did he manage to detect such minute details without even looking at her?

"I knew a lot of people wouldn't believe me," she admitted. "I guess I just didn't realize how… upsetting it would be. These are kids who have gone to school with me for years, you know? And they still believe some writer they've never met over me?"

"It's the fame," George told her. "They're jealous of you, but it's less shameful for them to just say they don't believe you."

She had never considered that possibility. She liked to think more of her fellow students, but she had a feeling George might be right.

"Most of them, anyway," George added. "Sounds like Seamus might just be a pathetic mummy's boy."

She actually laughed out loud at that. Fred stopped what he was doing to look over at her, as if doing a double-take while sitting.

"It's nice to hear you laugh like that," he said softly. "It's been way too long."

She couldn't agree more. She had missed this—not just hanging out with her two best friends in the common room, but also laughing with them.

"Well," said George, finishing off the last of his box of Snackboxes and rising to his feet. "My work here is done. Get some sleep, you two. Poor Ellie's gonna need it if she wants any chance of making it through Professor Toad's class tomorrow."

Ellie grimaced at the reminder of her first class with Umbridge as she hugged him goodnight.

"I really missed you today," she told Fred once George had left. "Though I guess you already know that, since you infiltrated my mind and all."

He chuckled. "It never hurts to hear you say it out loud. And I missed you, too, El."

He had finished off his Snackboxes too, and had turned to face her fully. They were close—close enough that she'd barely have to move a muscle to kiss him.

And yet, nice as it felt to be with him again, fear and pain flooded back in at the thought of doing more.

"I don't…" She bit her lip. "I still don't feel ready, if I'm being honest. And I don't know when I will. But the thought of not having you…"

He smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not going anywhere, El. And I don't care how long it takes."

Ellie knew from the moment she took her seat in Umbridge's class the next day that it wasn't going to be pretty. Across the giant blackboard in front of them, Umbridge had scrawled out—in impeccable handwriting, of course—her course aims for the year.

It was all theoretical—all references to the ridiculously entry-level textbook they'd been assigned.

Which, of course, didn't take long for Hermione to point out.

"Excuse me, Professor," she said shortly after Umbridge had begun her blood-boiling explanation. "There's nothing on the board about actually using defensive spells."

"Indeed, there isn't," Umbridge said evenly—though Ellie could tell from the glint in her eyes that Hermione was already rubbing her the wrong way. "It is the Ministry's belief that practicing such spells in the real world is dangerous and unnecessary. A theoretical overview should be enough to get you through your O.W.L.'s."

"And what about through life?" demanded Harry, who was already fuming. "What good is a theoretical—"

"Students will raise their hands in my class," Umbridge interrupted sharply, "and will wait to be called upon before speaking."

Her seething hatred toward Harry was impossible to miss.

Harry, along with Ellie and Hermione, all raised their hands.

Umbridge's irritated expression, of course, only grew. She ignored all three hands as she finished prattling off her speech, then, upon seeing that all three hands were still raised, heaved a dramatic sigh and called upon Hermione.

"It's just," Hermione said, "in our examinations, we will be expected to perform spells. Right?"

"Right," Umbridge said calmly. "Which you will learn to do in my class. From the textbooks."

Everyone around them—even Seamus—looked dubious.

"Please, Professor," said Harry when Umbridge reluctantly called on him. "It's not just our O.W.L.'s I'm worried about. It's preparing us for what's out there. We've faced tons of—"

"There is nothing," Umbridge interrupted calmly, "out there."

"That's a depressing thought," Ellie muttered sarcastically to Harry.

Umbridge narrowed her eyebrows sharply at Ellie, then squared her shoulders and announced to the class, "Let me make this plain. There are those amongst you who would like for you to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named has returned. This is a lie."

Are you hearing this? Ellie asked Fred as Harry slammed his hand down on the table so hard, even Umbridge jumped.

Oh, I'm hearing it, all right.

"I saw him!" Harry was shouting at Umbridge. "I fought him! According to you, did Cedric Diggory just drop dead of his own accord?"

The sound of Cedric's name made Ellie's breath catch in her throat, but it was Umbridge's response that really did her in: "What happened to Cedric Diggory was a tragic accident."

Don't do it, El, Fred said in her head. Don't explode. You have a whole year—

But he may as well have been speaking another language. Ellie flew to her own feet, rage bubbling to the surface. It was a good thing Umbridge had instructed them to put their wands away at the beginning of the class, because if she had her wand in hand, she'd probably do something that would wind up getting her expelled. She refused to allow this Ministry liar to tell half her class that Cedric Diggory hadn't been murdered when he had.

"He was killed," she said in a voice so sharp, it could cut glass, "by Aleksander Dolohov—the Durmstrang boy who worked alongside Barty Crouch, Jr. and Peter Pettigrew all year to bring Voldemort back. The only reason Barty Crouch, Jr. didn't survive to tell the tale was because the Ministry of Magic had their Dementors perform the Kiss on him before—"

"Enough!" Umbridge bellowed, and with a flourish of her wand, Ellie was thrown backwards—at least, she felt like she was.

Her shield, of course, protected her—keeping her rooted in place—as she experienced the strange sensation of her innards flying while her body remained still.

"Ah—yes." Umbridge's eyes darkened as she scanned the fading shimmer of Ellie's shield. "The Perelli charm. I've been warned about it."

El, please, Fred urged in her head. I know I'm no stranger to trouble and rebellion, but be smart about it. This woman has more power here than you do.

But Ellie didn't care. It wasn't right. Why should she be afraid of this woman? Why should she back down to her and give her what she wanted?

"We saw it happen," she growled at the woman, her voice now dark and full of loathing. "Why are you so insistent on denying something for no reason other than fear?"

It seemed that Ellie had hit the nail on the head. Umbridge's eyes narrowed until they were nothing but tiny slits, and when she parted her lips to speak, it took several tries before the word she sought actually surfaced: "Detention!"

Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?

"The both of you," Umbridge continued. "Every night for a week. Now, go and see Professor McGonagall while I get back to teaching—you know, the reason I'm here."

"That isn't the reason she's here," Ellie hissed to Harry under her breath as she packed up her things. "It's to spy on us."

"Yeah," Harry whispered back. "And to shut us up."

"Potter," McGonagall said when they entered her office a few minutes later. "Black. Aren't you supposed to be in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"We were," Ellie told her, smiling to herself at being called Black by an actual professor for the first time. "She sent us here."

McGonagall's eyes swept from Ellie to Harry, and she frowned. "For bad behaviour, I assume?"

"She isn't even planning on teaching us spells, Professor," Harry said in a pleading voice. "Denies anything about Voldemort having returned. Called us liars in front of everyone."

"She called Cedric's death an 'accident,'" Ellie added, her voice more of a whisper. "What were we supposed to do—sit there in silence?"

McGonagall's expression softened ever so slightly—which, for her, wasn't saying much. "It isn't fair," she conceded. "But it is unavoidable. Whether we like it or not, the Ministry is here with us at Hogwarts now, and all of us—myself included—have to be more careful than we'd like."

"But…" Harry said, sounding every bit as reluctant to accept this as Ellie felt. "Surely Professor Dumbledore can do something about it, can't he? Surely he's got some sort of… of… of plan?"

"Professor Dumbledore is always working toward the best environment he can create for his students," McGonagall said. "But when it comes to the Ministry, there is only so much he can do. For now, if you want to support him, support him in this. Stay out of trouble."

Ellie wasn't sure what to say to that. She glanced at Harry, who looked like he was on the verge of exploding. Sensing that it was time for them to go before said explosion happened, she reached gently out to squeeze his arm.

"Right," he said, looking away from McGonagall and nodding. "Okay, then."

Ellie, too, averted McGonagall's gaze as the professor excused them both to return to their dormitory. She had a feeling if McGonagall saw the residual rage in either of their gazes, she'd know they hadn't really heeded her words.

"Support him in this," Harry spat as he and Ellie rage-walked back to the Gryffindor Tower. "Who says I want to support him in anything anymore? When's the last time he supported me?"

She knew where he was coming from—Dumbledore had not only encouraged Harry's friends not to write to him that summer, but had also been avoiding him at all costs, even at the hearing. And yet, he had gone to the hearing, hadn't he?

"I know you don't want to hear this right now, Harry," she said gently, "but I think he's still on your side. If he wasn't, you wouldn't be here at Hogwarts right now."

Harry set his jaw and remained silent for several seconds. Finally, he said, "I know. And I know you don't want to hear this right now, but if you don't watch yourself with Umbridge, you're not going to be here much longer, either."

"Touche," she said with a sigh as they came to a stop at the Fat Lady's portrait.

Sometimes the truth really hurt.

Well, there's one person Umbridge hates as much as she hates Harry, and that's Ellie. Will Ellie learn to keep her hostility in check, or will she explode even worse than Harry? We'll see what that detention entails in the next chapter, so stay tuned and don't forget to comment and follow! Oh - and happy new year, folks!