(OotP) CHAPTER SIXTEEN: A Monster Like You

When Ellie returned to Hogwarts, Woodstock greeted her with a letter from Umbridge.

Your four detentions remain, with an additional five for sneaking off Hogwarts campus without permission. My office, six o'clock.

"Right," Ellie said with a weak smile when she saw it. "She's had more time than I bargained for to call my bluff."

Fred's eyes darkened. He had, of course, been privy to the highlights of her last detention with Umbridge—enough to know what she was referring to, at least.

"It's not too late to go to Dumbledore," he said. "If it gets bad with her—if she figures out a way past your shield and your Occlumency. You could insist on seeing him."

She wouldn't, though. Ellie hadn't spoken to Dumbledore once since starting school in September; she'd seen enough from the way he looked at her the day of Harry's hearing. He thought she was becoming rash and impulsive—and he wasn't wrong.

"Just… be here afterwards," she said, smiling weakly up at him. "If I know you'll be here, I know I'll be okay."

"I'm not going anywhere, El," he promised her.

And that was all that mattered anymore.

"Tell me," Umbridge said to Ellie when Ellie entered her office a few hours later. "How did you do it? How did you get past all the security measures to Apparate onto school grounds?"

Ellie shuddered inwardly at the thought of what someone like Umbridge might do with that information if she actually had it. "I don't know, Professor. It wasn't a conscious choice. I was scared and upset, and—"

"Not a conscious choice," Umbridge repeated, chuckling. She was preparing some sort of tea, and the thought crossed Ellie's mind that she might be trying to poison her. "Seems to be your go-to defense these days, doesn't it?"

"I reckon it has to do with my shield," Ellie said, still eyeing the tea. "I don't know how, but maybe it sort of… protected me from the anti-Apparition charms. Does that make any sense at all?"

But Umbridge didn't seem interested in the answer to her question anymore. She poured Ellie a cup of the tea, handed it to her, and told her to drink.

"I'm really more of a coffee girl," Ellie joked weakly as she accepted the tea. "Thank you, but it alright if I don't drink this?"

"Of course, it is, dear. If you're ready to be expelled from Hogwarts."

Bloody hell, said Fred in her head. He'd been listening the whole time, she knew. Get out of there. Tell her you want to see Dumbledore.

"What's in it?" she asked Umbridge. "What'll it do to me?"

"It'll limit your power of Occlumency," Umbridge told her calmly. "Temporarily only, of course. It'll allow me to access your mind properly so that we can continue our sessions."

That wasn't so bad, was it? By no means did she want Umbridge back in her head, but she had already handled it six times by then; what was a little longer?

You've been through enough, Fred told her. Don't put yourself through this, too.

But she had to. It was this or expulsion, and now that things were finally getting back to some sort of level ground with Fred again, she didn't want to be expelled anymore.

So she lifted the cup to her lips and drank.

It did more than "limit the power of her Occlumency," she could tell. It limited her power, period. Within seconds of sipping the drink, her mind and body both started to weaken.

"Very good," said Umbridge, waiting for Ellie to set the cup down before lifting her wand and pointing it. "Well, then. Legilimens."

"Good morning, beautiful."

Ellie smiled politely back at the handsome face of her new boyfriend as it leaned in close for a kiss. It had been a week since she gave him her answer on that stage, and faking her relationship with him hadn't gotten any easier.

It could be worse, though, she mused grimly as he pulled away from her lips only to pepper her cheeks and hair with kisses, too. He did seem to really care about her.

"Good morning," she said back as he took her hand and guided her toward the moving staircases that would lead them to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Get much sleep?"

"More than my insomniac girlfriend, I'm sure."

"How romantic," said Umbridge as Cedric's tender face morphed into her squashed, hideous face. This was different than it had been last time; Umbridge's presence was stronger. The memories were stronger, too—more vivid. She could almost taste Cedric on her lips. "He really loved you, didn't he? Let's move on to the next."

"It's nice, being here with you," he said in a husky voice as he pressed her gently against a brick wall—reminding her a bit too much of the situation that summer with Aleks. "Like being on a date in the real world."

She smiled as best she could, and kissed him back when he kissed her. But, again, he didn't stop there.

Some of it, she could handle. She didn't mind his hands making their way toward her back pockets, nor even when they snuck their way up her shirt to the bare skin of her stomach. She had done that much with Oliver, after all; it didn't overwhelm her like it had in her earlier years. But when his hands started wandering higher and farther, she pulled away from him—again.

"Cedric," she said softly.

He was doing his best to look patient, she could tell, but he was frustrated. "Come on. I'm not trying to do anything serious. I'm just…"

"I'm not ready," she said firmly. At least, not ready to do this with you. If she and Fred had managed to be together longer than a day and a half, would she have been ready to let him touch her that way? She was pretty sure she'd let him touch her any way he wanted—and enjoy the hell out of it, too.

"But…" His faced was screwed up in concentration not to say the wrong thing. "But if you were ready with… with him…"

She groaned, shoving him off her with just a bit too much force. "I told you, Ced—I hate him. I don't want to talk about him. Ever."

"But you said… you said it was mutual. That you wanted to. So how come you don't want to with me?"

She almost felt bad for him—almost.

But it had only been a few weeks, and nothing gave him the excuse to pressure her—not even the false belief that she'd already gone that far with someone else.

"El?"

Ellie's eyes bulged as she turned away from Cedric to see Fred and George standing at the entrance to the alleyway, watching her and Cedric with highly concerned expressions. They might not have seen her shove Cedric away, but her body language was still pretty rigid and upset.

She glanced heavily back at Cedric, whose blue-grey eyes had gone from frustrated to pleading. Don't go with them, they seemed to say. I'm sorry.

"I'll see you later," she said shortly to Cedric.

And she walked away from him.

"Choosing Fred over Cedric yet again," said Umbridge as the image in Ellie's mind morphed again into the horrible woman's face. "And not just that, but lying to him about your sexual experiences with another boy? Tell me, Eleanor—if this Aleks really is the boy you claim killed Cedric, why would you ever have indulged such rumours?"

"I didn't have a choice!" Ellie shrieked at her. She hated seeing these memories—hated seeing the way she had treated the poor boy who had done nothing but desire her love and affection. They seemed to be getting more and more real by the second. She was overwhelmed by him—everything from the smell of him to the warmth of his body. It filled her with a kind of grief she had never felt before. She tried desperately to push Umbridge out, but her mind was as weak as putty. "He was blackmailing me. Threatening me. I—"

But Umbridge was already moving on to the next.

He didn't exactly look pleased when he saw her approach his table the following morning, but he didn't look cross with her, either. If anything, he just looked… tired.

She knew a thing or two about that.

"Can we talk?" she asked him meekly.

He glanced at his friends, all of whom seemed to be shooting him stay strong and cut her loose looks. When he turned back to her, though, he nodded and rose to his feet.

They walked in silence until they were out of the Great Hall and out of earshot of the others before, finally, she spoke. "Look, Ced, about yesterday—"

"I get it," he interrupted. "I heard McGonagall's announcement this morning. It's a big deal, your band getting to play. I'm… happy for you."

McGonagall had made an announcement that morning about The Weasleys playing the ball? She must have missed that in her scramble to find clean socks that morning. "Well… thanks."

"We could still go together," he said quietly—almost nervously. "They say the champions take the floor for the first dance, so that's really all you'd have to do with me. Surely they could spare you for one song, right?"

She could hardly believe her ears. He still wanted to go with her, after everything?

He really had it bad.

"Unless… do you even want to go with me at all?"

It was hard to hear him ask that. It was even harder to look into those pretty, pitiful eyes of his. What had she done to him? It was worse than unrequited love—worse even than what Fred had done to her back in her third year. It was… cruel.

She couldn't keep lying to him. She had to get things sorted, once and for all.

But she also had to keep Sirius safe.

"I'm… confused," she said softly. "I always was—I told you that back in September. But I never meant—"

"That was months ago," he interrupted, heat starting to rise to his voice. "You made up your mind. You said this was what you wanted. Have you changed it?"

Tears started to well up in her eyes—tears for his sake, and for the sake of the awful things she had done to him. "I don't know. I'm trying to sort it all out, Ced. I'm trying to be as fair as I can. I—"

"You want to be with me or you don't." His voice was firm. "It's that simple."

It was, and yet it was anything but. "I just… need some time." It was risky, but if he had it as bad for her as he seemed to, maybe it would work? "A week or two. Just to sort out my head. Do you think you could give me that?"

His expression darkened. "A week or two of agony, only to be dumped at the end of it and left dateless for the ball I'm required to have a date for?"

She sighed. It wasn't working. It wasn't enough. She had to give him something more. "Look, I'll… I'll go to the dance with you, Ced. I'll let Fred sing the first song and I'll dance it with you. I just can't to lie to you or… or pretend anything until I've sorted—"

"Okay."

She blinked. She could hardly believe it. Just like that, he'd agreed?

"Okay?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Take a couple weeks. Go to the dance with me at Christmas. And then tell me what you've decided."

"But you didn't go to the dance with him, did you?"

Ellie wasn't standing anymore—if it was even possible to stand in a memory. She was curled up into a ball, eyes squeezed shut, sobbing. Even then, she was forced to see and hear every bit of it.

"In spite of the promise you made him," continued Umbridge, "and in spite of the clear agony you were putting him through, you went to the dance with Fred."

How did Umbridge even know this? Had she studied up on Ellie just to properly torture her?

"Let's take a look."

When he finally emerged, she was surprised to find that, even now, he managed to take her breath away for just an instant. He was simply that handsome—that charming—that… good.

He didn't deserve this.

But she hadn't deserved those past few months. And neither had Fred.

"Ellie," he said when he saw her, looking confused. The pajamas beneath her robes weren't exactly her usual ensemble. "Everything okay?"

"I can't go to the dance with you." Quick and painless. That was the way to do it, right? "I've got a date lined up for you, though. She's really great. You'll—"

"Hang on." He looked half-confused, half-furious. "What are you talking about?"

"I've been blackmailed," she said. "For months. Aleks had something over me, something about my dad, and—"

"Aleks?" interrupted Cedric, looking like he was struggling to keep up. "Your ex from Durmstrang?"

"He's not my ex. Nothing ever happened between us. Not for lack of trying, on his part, mind you, but—"

"Slow down. Aleks blackmailed you? Into doing what?"

She didn't want to slow down. It was easier to word-vomit it out. This part, though, she had to slow down for. "Into…" She swallowed. "Into being with you."

The realization that clouded those handsome, blue-grey eyes of his was so instant and overwhelming that it made her heart ache, but it only lasted a few seconds before morphing back into utter confusion. "Why the hell would a Durmstrang student care who a Hogwarts girl chose to date?"

"I don't know, exactly. It had to do with you and Harry. He knew you'd both be picked for the Tournament. He's involved, somehow—rigged it, maybe, or is hoping to rig it by the end. I don't know why. I just know that he told me I had to be with either you or Harry, and…"

His eyes darkened. "And you picked me. Lucky me."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'd already hurt Harry enough, Ced. Besides, I… I liked you. I like you."

"You met him last summer," Cedric said coldly, looking away from her. "You were playing me all along."

She shook her head. "I wasn't. He didn't start any of this until he came to Hogwarts. Until then, I was honest with you. I was interested. I was trying to figure things out. I…"

"But you wouldn't have picked me. You wanted to be with Fred. All this time, you've wanted to be with Fred."

She sighed. "Well… yes. But I—"

"Okay," he interrupted sharply, clenching his jaw. "I get it."

And he turned to walk away from her.

"Hang on," she said, reaching out to take his arm. "I'm sorry, Ced. Isn't there something I can—"

"You've done enough," he said, yanking his arm free of her grip. "Thanks for finally telling me the truth."

And with that, he walked away from her.

"'You were playing me all along,'" Umbridge quoted in her sing-song voice that made Ellie want to jab her wand straight through her toadlike mouth. "He finally figured it out. So why haven't you, Eleanor?"

"I know I was playing him," Ellie growled at the woman. At least, she tried to growl. It came out as more of a miserable, empty sob. "I told you, I didn't have a—"

"Choice. So you said. I can't say I agree with you, though, Eleanor. I believe we always have a choice. For example, instead of attending the ball and playing an entire concert of songs about another boy, you could have done the graceful thing and foregone the event."

"I was trying to make it up to Fred. I'd been unfair to him—"

"Let's take a look," Umbridge interrupted.

"No," Ellie whispered. "Please. I don't want to see it. I don't—"

"This first song is for our Triwizard Champions," she said, cheeks turning pink, as she gripped the microphone that had been set up more for show than for practicality; Sonorus got her all the volume she needed. "It's tradition for them to lead the first dance of the evening, and in this case, the song is dedicated to one of them in particular."

She allowed herself to meet Cedric's gaze at that. He was even more handsome than usual, of course, in brand-new, clean-cut dress robes, with his hair combed and styled to perfection. But his eyes were sad.

Well, the song wasn't going to make him any less sad. But she hoped it might bring him some semblance of closure.

"Not everything is supposed to come true. Some words are best unsaid; some love is not really love at all. I'll keep everything I shared with you, and that's enough with us."

The words were harsh, she knew—but the melody was gentle, and her intonation kind. It was a soft, sweet song, delicate in its implications. Perhaps the most important line in the song—"And if we think, 'what might have been?'—we'll lose today, and we've got songs to play"—seemed to resonate so powerfully with the room, everyone burst into cheers as the Triwizard gentlemen dipped and spun their dates.

When the song was over, she wanted to look at Fred. See? she wanted to shout at him. It's really over!

But, unlike the rest of the songs she had on the docket for the evening, With Us hadn't been about Fred. And for the sake of the boy it was about, she forced herself to look at him.

He was still hurt; that much was clear.

But he did manage to spare her one tiny nod before thanking Lavender for the dance and exiting the ballroom.

It was probably for the best, she mused with a sigh as she returned to the microphone.

The rest of the songs would have hurt him more.

"Please, Professor." Ellie was sobbing so hard at this point, her eyeballs hurt. Her teeth hurt, too, and her gut was in knots. "I'll do anything. Just make it stop."

"Make it stop?" Umbridge repeated sweetly. "But it isn't over, my dear girl. You didn't stop there, did you? You continued the torture—continued toying with him—even got yourself selected as the person he cared about most in the second task—"

"Enough."

At the sound of that single word, Ellie was ripped from her own memories and back into Umbridge's office instantly.

It was Fred—only it wasn't Fred. His normally soft, brown eyes were black as coals. He looked… murderous.

"What kind of deranged, psychopathic woman," he hissed at Umbridge through clenched teeth, "would put a child through something like this—intentionally?"

He had seen, then. Every other time, he'd been blocked out, but this time, he'd found a way in.

"Fred," Ellie whispered. She was still crying—still shaking—but she had to stop him. If he kept this up, he'd be out of Hogwarts in seconds. "Don't."

But he wasn't looking at her. His gaze was fixed on Umbridge.

"You have exactly three seconds to leave my office and forget this ever happened," Umbridge told him calmly, "or you will be expelled and banned from Hogwarts for the rest of your days."

"Please," Ellie begged Fred. "Get out of here."

But he didn't. Instead, he took another step toward Umbridge, lowered his voice even deeper, and said, "I want no part of a school with a monster like you at its helm."

Poor Ellie! Is it possible my Umbridge is even worse than the original? And what's going on with Fred? Nice of him to step in, but isn't he guaranteed expulsion now? Stay tuned to find out, and remember my motto... it'll get worse before it gets better, but it'll eventually get better!