The next update shall come next Sunday.
Song of the Day: Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift
The feather scratched against the parchment paper, the top of the feather breaking through ever so slightly. A month came and went without a hitch, though there were days of the week that Eliza dreaded more than others. When she worked at the Kindergarten, the dreaded day of the week was Monday. Monday was the day the parents would come in with their worries, and they wanted it done and over quickly. At St. Mungo's, every day was a dreaded day.
At the Ministry, it was the Tuesday. Whatever tabloid was written during the weekend would warrant a response on Monday, and it had to be done by Tuesday.
"Honestly, Arthur," Eliza slammed the seal onto the hot wax. "Do you people not know how to interact with each other?"
"Well, they're muggles; of course they're foreign," Arthur reasoned.
"We're all humans," she emphasised. Yesterday, the Ministry was again under fire for an incident between a ministry officer and the cleaning personnel at one of the supposed entrances to the ministry. "Besides this doesn't warrant a jinx!"
"I must admit, it could have been done more tactfully."
She raised an eyebrow and set the report away. Looking at the clock, she gathered her things, put them in her briefcase, and readied herself to visit the graveyard.
It was October 31st.
It was strange not to spend the day sulking. She awoke that morning feeling calm. The cotton duvet brushed against her body, her cup of tea was a perfect temperature, and Remus gave her a warm smile while filling out the Daily Prophet's crossword puzzle. It did not cross their lips, but they'd allow each other to do what they normally do on this day.
"It will be an exciting day tomorrow," Arthur quipped. "They're choosing the champions tonight. The boys have already written, but Molly is concerned that Fred and George will be up to no good again."
"And what do they think they'll be able to do, age themselves up by a year through a potion?"
It was a fair guess. Fred and George would be adapt at something like that, though she wasn't sure if they'd read the fine print of the potion. Once, a young boy came in with a beard that rivalled Dumbledore's, all because he wanted to enter the Three Broomsticks.
"Precisely," Arthur added. "That is exactly what Fred and George would do. We're hoping they'd grow out of it, but they keep experimenting with all these toys and stupid pranks."
"Arthur," Eliza chidded while putting on her scarf. "Those stupid pranks and toys involve ingenuity. Fred and George are just not made for academics, but I can assure you they can make it out there in the world."
"And what makes you say that?"
"James Potter and Sirius Black," Eliza shrugged. "They used to be not the best at school until their NEWTS and OWLs came around."
"That's not a comforting comparison, seeing as one is a criminal," Arthur said, crossing his arms. "We just want the best for them, that's all."
"Arthur –"
Eliza didn't want to question Arthur and Molly's parenting. It wasn't her place to advise unless needed, but she did think that they should recognise that Fred and George had other strengths. They would never be Aurors, unlike Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Molly's brothers who died during the Wizarding War. Having met them numerous times, she could see them in the twin, but they were their people.
The Patronus interrupted it all. Arthur yelped. He hadn't been in the Order back in the day, and she doubted he ever had a reason to send a message this way. The phoenix landed in their office, illuminating the room with wispy blue light. It spoke with Dumbledore's voice:
Harry is the second champion in the tournament. Constant vigilance.
It disappeared.
"What was that?"
Eliza's mouth felt dry, and the walls of her throat closed in—at least that is what she felt. Her knees went weak, but her hand held onto the nearest table.
"A message from Dumbledore," she forced out. Her mind felt like it would shut off any second. "Its urgent."
"Well?" Arthur's voice squeaked. "What is the meaning of this? Shall you go to Hogwarts?"
She did not know. She wasn't Harry's legal parent, the closest one being Sirius.
Sirius, she thought. That's who should be here right now.
But Sirius was there right at Hogwarts. Perhaps that was why Dumbledore told her to stay vigilant: She wasn't needed there.
But she was worried either way. Sirius acted rashly, and she didn't trust what he would do once he learned that Harry was in the tournament.
Instead, she rushed home.
"Remus!" she called out, but Remus wasn't there. She groaned in frustration and pulled out her cell phone. She tried to ring Remus: one, two, three. No answer. What was the point of having a phone?
She walked out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. The wind bit through her blouse, and she found herself walking. Just walking. Her thoughts raced, going through every piece of information she knew about the Triwizard Tournament. It was kept under wraps, so any danger being sent Harry's way would be unbeknownst to her. She was told she could go to Hogwarts on the tournament days; no one would stop her if she did, but chances are they would because everyone would want to see it.
It didn't occur to her that she would end up at the Leaky Cauldron. At what point did she think she wanted a drink, she didn't know, because the dread in her stomach matched that of apparating.
So there she was, drowning Firewhisky.
"Wotcher!" the person next to her sounded. "You must be having quite the night."
"Yeah," she hiccuped slightly. The electric feeling of whiskey pulled through her body. "Is Halloween, that's all."
"I know something about Halloween," the witch chuckled. "What's your name, I've seen you around before."
The witch had auburn hair, the colour of fallen leaves in the autumn, that waved around her in a curly crown. Freckles dusted her bronze skin and her eyes… they reminded her of Lily's. Not in colour, not the viridian that Harry had.
No, they were kind. They danced in the candlelight.
Eliza introduced herself.
"Cade Rabbot," the witch answered. I must have seen you around the Ministry. Do you happen to work for the Games department?"
"Nope, but I know Hassan," Eliza answered. "I'm in the Muggles department."
"My condolences."
"Why?"
She waved for Tom, who came by to pour more whiskey. "Because you're underpaid."
Eliza grunted and went in for another round.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Cade asked.
While buzzing, Eliza was still very aware of what came out of her mouth. She did not know this person she'd just met, only that they worked at the Ministry, too, though she couldn't trust that alone. But some of her wondered if she would understand her feelings, even if she didn't mention it entirely.
"I'm worried about my… nephew, he's getting himself into all these weird situations. Terrible fourteens, you know."
"Oh, what about the parents?" Cade asked. "Can't they do something?"
"We lost them in the war."
Orphaned Wizards were a thing, after all.
She continued, "And I'm afraid my…husband may act a little bit rash when it comes to him."
Cade nodded. "Well, I don't know what is happening but if I were you… I would make sure that you're heard, that is all."
She made it home somehow, and it didn't occur to her until the morning that she didn't visit Lily and James.
December 23rd 1994
Just as she handed the cashier her galleons, the store doors slammed open, and Hermione ran in. Eliza looked on in shock, the hair potion still in her hand.
"Oh, that's the last one!" she exclaimed. She looked apologetically at the witch at the cash register. "Sorry, but do you think you'll get more orders in?"
"Not before the end of the year, sorry, Ms. Granger."
She sighed, "Great."
Eliza held up the potion. "Do you need this?"
"Well, yes, but I can still look for an alternative," Hermione said apologetically. "I just need it for the Yule Ball, that is all."
"You don't need this," the hair potion in question would straighten hair, not give it the care Hermione needed.
"It's really important, Professor – uh, Ms. Shafiq."
Eliza felt pity and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She remember what it was like to be her age, let alone when people kept bullying her for who she was.
"I'll tell you what, Hermione, I have Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment, and you can use it just fine."
"Can you?" she said excitedly. "I mean, it would be great to know for the ball itself because… uh, well, Iwasaskedbyviktorkrum—" she said so fast that Eliza could barely hear it. She waved the potion's witch goodbye and walked outside with Hermione, still flushed from running.
"None of the girls in my year know how to deal with my hair, and I don't know how to take care of it because my mum never taught me. I keep looking into the books, but nothing can help, so I thought, well, straightening it might do it well, and now that I'm going to the ball with Krum…"
She sighed. "He's the only person to ever treat me like an equal."
"What about Harry and Ron?" Eliza asked. She'd corresponded regularly with Harry since October, and the boy was just downright miserable, saying that Ron wasn't talking to him because he thought Harry had entered. After many reassurances that Eliza believed he wouldn't deliberately put himself in danger, Harry let everything out in his letters. The Daily Prophet article made things worse, how his classmates treated him – it took everything for her not to show up and take him out of Hogwarts herself. Still, she wrote a strongly worded letter to Dumbledore, who sent her response to Sirius, who then wrote her that he would have everything under control at Hogwarts. Last she heard the two boys talking to each other again, but Harry never talked about how the others were feeling.
Hermione scoffed. "They see me as the brains, but as an equal? Harry, a lot more. Things have been weird since the article, but he's alright. But Ron… Ron is just so infuriating. I didn't even tell him about Krum because, well… he wouldn't believe it. His favourite Quidditch player liking me? He would think that the sky is falling."
The driven snow was still pure as they walked through Hogsmeade.
"Don't let Ron treat you like that," Eliza said suddenly. "He may be just a boy, but it doesn't excuse anything he does."
"I…" Hermione blinked, confused. "The girls say it's normal."
"It is not," Eliza shouldered her basket. Before returning to London, she needed to get some supplies to Sirius in the forest. "You know…that's how Padfoot acted towards me back when, and I didn't like him until he treated me right. Don't let dumb actions excuse anything."
She looked deep in thought.
Eliza gave Hermione a soft smile and handed her the hair treatment. "Don't listen to the instructions on this. The night before, wash your hair and put it in it while it's wet. Style it straight, or wrap strands of your hair around the barrel of your hair brush to define the curls. I'd keep your hair braided to protect them if I were you. You'd have an easier time in the morning. Add extra oils to keep it moisturised."
"I'll give it back to you!"
Eliza shook her head. "No need."
She watched the young witch walk away, shake her head, and enter the forest, ensuring no one followed her.
"A life saviour!" Sirius exclaimed as she walked in. He looked through the basket's contents. Cheese and bread? How romantic of you."
"I was sure you'd get tired of rats," Eliza sighed.
"The last good food I had was when Harry, Ron, and Hermione were here," Sirius sighed. But I spent more time telling him about what he shouldn't do—blimey, that kid nearly went into the forest with Viktor Krum, of all people. Can you imagine? Karkaroff is even around, and don't even get me started on the disappearances and break-ins," Sirius grumbled.
"So, you've lectured him?"
"Of course I did," Sirius raised an eyebrow. "What did you think I would do?"
Eliza gave him a look.
"Look, I may have my faults but his life is on the line!" Sirius exclaimed. "And… well. I wasn't around much so, I'm hoping at the very least that this makes up for it."
The place was littered with old issues of the Daily Prophet. Sirius was taking note of what was going on, reading between the lines of what was going on.
"Did you hear about Crouch?" Sirius scoffed. "He's supposed to be around."
"He hasn't been around the Ministry, you know," Eliza knew this from Cade, who worked at the reception. She knew who clocked in and out each day. After Halloween, she made sure to talk with the young witch every once in a while. Sirius bit down on a piece of jerky, scowling. She took his hand that had been rolled into a fist.
"I know," she muttered. Barty Crouch was the reason Sirius was delivered to Azkaban without a trial.
"If it weren't for Harry if I ever saw that man, I would commit a crime just for the twelve years he took from me," he said darkly.
"Let it pass, Sirius," Eliza rubbed circles into his hand. "When we see him, it'll be under different circumstances."
"Not unless Pettigrew confesses."
"And we will find him, one way or another, or try another way," she assured him. "We just need to get through this first."
"Dumbledore said he'd help," Sirius added lightly. "And if we have Dumbledore, we can work things out."
Eliza did not answer.
"Eliza?"
Eliza wasn't sure if freeing Sirius was in Dumbledore's best interest at the time, not when the blood magic that protected Harry was needed. Harry would not return to the Dursleys if he knew he could stay with Sirius.
"Let's focus on keeping him alive," she changed the subject. "And you too."
She could not read Sirius' face. Then, he stood up, holding out a hand.
"Care to dance with me? It's all I want from Christmas."
There was no music, but she let him lead. The first time they'd danced together was at a family dinner a long time ago. They'd been 14, and he simply told her off for being with his brother. He was a fairly excellent dancer, and the sound of dirt crunching under their feet was the only music to accompany them. She had a hard time leaving him there alone and decided not to return to Hogsmeade to see him again.
She couldn't stand leaving him alone. It was one thing to leave him when he was free to go where he wanted to, another to do so when he had to stay there.
24th of June 1995
"No one has died thus far," Remus mentioned. Despite the summer, it was a cool day, but the heat waves would come soon. "Are you sure you don't want to go?"
"Do you want to go?" Eliza asked agitatedly, her leg bouncing up and down from all the coffee she had drank.
"No, I don't think I should be around them."
She pulled on her coat and looked herself in the mirror. She had to do one task, and then she'd be free to get to Hogwarts, though she'd prefer to arrive there sooner rather than later. It was one short routine check-up, that is all. Mr Manson had sent her a message, telling her something was wrong again at her "uncle's" house.
But Alastor Moody was supposed to be at Hogwarts.
After promising to update him when she returned home, she went to Alastor Moody's house. It was abandoned, as she expected, but she could tell someone had been there. There were footsteps in the garden, and the garden gnome had been moved. It couldn't have been from the wind the past week, as that should have only knocked it over if anything.
She walked up the steps, her wand ready to disarm, but nothing happened.
This was Alastor Moody's house. That was the first sign that something was a miss.
The door was slightly ajar, and the wind blowing through the house created a low whistling sound—at least, that was what she initially thought it was.
The door clicked close behind her.
"Come to find Moody, cousin?" a scratchy voice said. Within seconds, the wand was in her arm, and a burst of light emitted from it. The wizard blocked it off.
"I'm not telling you anything," her feet turned cold from the adrenaline that rushed throughout her body. That voice—she knew it. It was Rosier. Only one other Rosier was still alive if you don't count Eliza, who was the only one by her mother's marriage.
And that Rosier had escaped the grasp of Azkaban because distant French relatives in high ranking positions vouched for him.
"I'm just having a little fun," he taunted. "After all, that's what your mum had too, did she?"
They were both in sight of each other. The air was tense as they stood facing each other in a dimly lit living room. They were bound to catch the muggle neighbour's attention. Their wands glinted in the faint light, poised for action.
Moody did not leave the house, according to Mr Manson.
"Where is Moody?" Eliza spat, her voice low and dangerous.
Rosier remained silent, a smirk playing on his lips as he brandished his wand. With a flick of her wrist, Eliza sent a bolt of crackling energy hurtling towards her adversary, the expelliarmus. But Rosier was quick to react, deflecting the spell. The room erupted into a chaotic dance of lights and shadows, and debris kicked around it.
With each exchange, the tension mounted, neither willing to give an inch.
Why was he here?
Eliza frowned. Her mind went through numerous scenarios, but she could not settle on one as long as they were fighting.
She pressed forward, her determination unwavering, as she sought to break through her opponent's defences. But just as victory seemed within reach, a sudden change swept over the figure before her. She wanted to run and hide somewhere else, but he had her in a lock.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he yelled. She pointed the expelliarmus once more, the two meeting at each other. It could not reach her, not at all. They moved closer, her wand vibrating. She felt something creep up her arm, a feeling of numbness.
And she did what she had to do. He was close enough.
She bit down on his arm.
This distracted him long enough for her to knock the spell away from them, moving towards outside as it missed it mark.
She cast a jelly leg hex and disarmed Rosier.
He laughed hysterically, but his face flashed with confusion as she stood over him
"Eliza, Eliza, oh so wise. But beneath that facade, your true self lies," he sang. "You would have made a great Death Eater."
"Where is Moody?" she demanded. "He's supposed to be at Hogwarts."
"Oh but little Moody never made it to Hogwarts, he is in a trunk," Rosier laughed. But the laugh turned into a cry. " The Dark Lord is near! He's going to kill me for not looking for him."
Then who had been teaching Harry all year long?
Rosier's face contorted into a grimace of agony as his hand instinctively flew to his mouth. His lips, once firm and composed, now quivered uncontrollably, a frothy foam forming at the corners. With each breath, bubbles of saliva mixed with the poisonous substance frothed and spilled from his lips, dripping down his chin in a sickly display.
"No!" she cried out. But it was too late.
Rosier was dead.
Silence.
Eliza felt like she was going to throw up. She stood up, knowing she had to call the ministry to deal with the body.
But as she walked outside to see if any muggles had seen the commotion, she was met with the body of Mr Manson on the doorsteps.
She couldn't cry. St. Mungos arrived to clear to body, and soon, the Aurors were on the scene.
She told them everything he said, what had happened, why she was there in the first place.
The auror shook his head. "The poor muggle. He must have had a hard life."
"Rosier just got released from St. Mungo's, he was probably just deranged that's all. He was one of those wizards that was put under the imperius curse back then, you know."
"That is absolutely ridiculous!"
But Eliza needed to go. She needed to get to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Whatever damage was done, she would deal with it afterwards.
She stumbled into Hogsmeade. Although security was heightened today, pandemonium had broken out. She could hear wails, the banners that had fallen.
"Where is Harry?" Snape was the first person she saw and she grabbed him by his collar.
"With Moody, Shafiq you are late –" but he stopped once he looked her over. The dirt on her coat, the deranged look.
"What happened?"
She quickly recounted what happened.
"Whoever is with Harry, it is not Moody."
"Come quick," Snape moved his head. They ran into the castle. From all the things she could have done that day, she was not expecting Snape to trust her this willingly. They walked past his office, quickly grabbing veritaserum. And it seemed they were not alone in wondering where Harry had gone. Dumbledore was sauntering to the office as well.
Later, the old man's eyes seem to say.
She carried Harry to the infirmary, his arm bleeding, the young boy sobbing in her arms as they treated him because he had lost a friend. He'd seen them. Those who died. The man who killed his parents.
It didn't take long for Sirius to arrive in the dark, ordered there by no one else but Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew that Harry needed someone like a parent, someone who would believe him.
She would ignored what she saw and what it all meant for now. So many thoughts rushed through her mind, but right now, all that mattered to her was Harry.
