You're getting the Sunday chapter a few hours earlier because an old lady trauma dumped to me about her grandchild on the bus, and I am watching Lord of the Rings as a marathon tomorrow. We love situative writing because I have now extended what I want to write about to the very end of OOTP and the rest can be up to you.
There is no song of the day this time.
Thank to everyone that has reviewed!
The There Is No War in Ba Singh Se mood of the Ministry is slightly too real in the current climate.
Please enjoy this chapter and I hope to see you in the next. Coming next chapter:We hate the Ministry of Magic, The Laments of Petunia Evans, Regulus and Kreacher
Harry showed up at Figg's house that Sunday and looked bored out of his mind, expecting tea. So when Eliza opened the door, his mouth fell, and he launched himself at her.
"You're here!" he exclaimed. The boy had grown quickly, and she frowned, seeing that he looked incredibly malnourished. Goodness, did Petunia even feed him? He towered over her and was, in fact, nearly the same height as James. Though people kept saying that he looked like James, she could see the freckles on his nose that were similar to those of Lily's, and his black hair had a touch of red to them.
"What are you doing here?"
"I thought you needed a friendly face," Eliza kissed the top of his head. "You… you're not okay."
"No one has told me anything!" Harry grumbled. I've been listening to the news, but all I keep hearing about are corgis cooling off in the summer heat, or whatever it is. It's the same procedure every day. The Daily Prophet says nothing—if he's BACK, then why aren't we doing anything?"
Eliza let out a deep breath. Oh boy.
"And Hermione and Ron are probably hanging out at the Burrow without me and I don't know what Sirius is up to –"
"Harry."
"–and I am sick and tired of being left out of things because I SAW CEDRICDIE–"
"Harry," Eliza said firmly once more. "It's the Ministry."
She gently lead him to the kitchen and asked him to boil tea. He looked at her quizzically, but she insisted he did it the muggle way. Harry needed something to do.
And so she explained. She explained that the Ministry was denying that Voldemort had returned, that none of it was in the paper, but people thought Harry and Dumbledore were lying.
"And what about me?" Harry asked while he pressed the kettle button. "When will they get me?" his voice cracked.
Eliza pulled out pieces of cake for tea. It was drenched in milk but was extremely light in taste.
"I don't know, Harry. But I can tell you we're trying to free Sirius."
Harry lit up at this news. "How?"
"I don't know yet," Eliza shrugged. "I've been cut off, essentially. Not by choice, of course. It's … you know what, I'll tell you that when it's blown over."
"So, you too?"
Eliza grimaced. They drank their tea, and Harry caught her up to speed on his life. He turned on the TV, only to find it paused on an opening sequence with a feather.
"It's a nice movie if you want to watch," Eliza said gently. She'd given Arabella the VHS tape for Forrest Gump to keep the kids in the neighbourhood company when she had to watch over them.
Harry munched on his cake happily. At some point, Harry lay his head in her lap as they watched the movie. He asked questions—"What war? When did this and that happen? And why was he just lucky?"—and it wasn't until the introduction of Forrest Gump Jr. that she sensed that Harry was crying.
She rubbed his back, how she would do it when he was a baby, ready to burp.
"I have nightmares about it," Harry said. "Every night. I hear the people he's killed…and then I dream about a long corridor. It's always those two."
Her heart broke.
"Why do people keep dying because of me?"
"I… can't answer that for you, but I can tell you what we were thinking when you were born," Eliza hummed. "It was the middle of the war. Perhaps not a great time to have a child, but many people got married thinking that they wouldn't live to see the next day. When you were born, we all wanted and hoped that you will be able to see the light of the next day, a dawn of a new era," Eliza bit the inside of her cheek. "Seeing you cry each morning, giggle at the cat as you snatched its tail … all of that was worth living for."
"We had a cat?" Harry muttered.
"His name was Salem. Your mother named it after a comic character."
"What about the witch trials?"
"Also based on that."
Harry dozed off to sleep. Eliza did not have the strength to carry a grown teenage boy across the street, so she let him sleep for a bit before nudging him away a few hours later so he'd be home before Aunt Petunia would complain.
"Please write to me," Harry begged before he closed the door behind him.
Her heart twinged. Then, looked down at the watch, and groaned. Cade would be waiting in Diagon Alley.
"What time does Cinderella need to be home?" Cade asked. She pointed at the moon. It was full.
"I don't need to be home, but I should be there in the morning," Remus promised he'd taken his potion. She provided the ingredients, and Snape brewed them begrudgingly on Dumbledore's orders.
"Say you, Seraphina Evergreen said that she never ever saw you two hand in marriage papers to the Department."
"We're only married as muggles," Eliza lied out of her teeth. "It's the tax benefits, you know."
"So none of your property here will go over to him in the event you were to die?" she mused.
The sun dipped behind the crooked rooftops of Diagon Alley. In a tucked-away square, a flickering sign cast dancing shadows over a tent entrance adorned with vibrant swirls of crimson and gold.
"C'mon," Cade hushed the both of them after they paid the entrance fee.
Suddenly, a burst of sparkling fireworks erupted, heralding the arrival of the circus performers. From acrobats to illusionists, each act dazzled with feats of magic and skill beyond imagination. There was someone who duplicated themselves into two and swallowed flaming swords—practically; it was everything you would read about a circus akin to P.T. Barnum. She'd seen it before with her father and could call out any illusion.
"They're just pulling strings backstage with their wands," Cade shook her head. "But it's brilliant. Oh so brilliant."
The ringmaster, with her bright tailcoat, introduced each act. Each act was from a different place on the planet and had a mystic story to tell.
But, that was not why she was here.
With her eye on the clock – the meeting would start in an hour and she had to make sure that she would be able to disappear without Cade wondering where she had gone – Eliza searched for the ringmaster.
Dress in a red jacket embroidered in goldwork, the ringmaster turned around. Upon seeing Eliza, she grinned.
"Cousin!" she exclaimed. "How are you doing?"
Rosie Shafiq was not her actual cousin. They weren't even from the same family – her family was Pakistani, and Rosie's parents were muggleborns. But, the idea of being part of Sacred families kept Rosie safe during the first war.
Eliza looked around before pulling in. "Have you heard of anything about… you know."
Rosie nodded; she brought Eliza to a tent that was bigger on the inside. The inside was well-kept, and the papers were stacked neatly to avoid any troubles with the ministry.
Eliza casted the muffliato.
"The old followers are still scared; there have been… rumours. A lot about an old servant who has come back to help him. But the Dark Lord is furious. None of his followers came to seek him out in the twelve years he was stuck in Albania, weakened. He was merely a shell, you see. Something unnatural," Jenny explained.
"Do you know what?"
Rosie shook her head. "Beats me. I only know the stories, but chances are he made a Deal with the Devil and stole his soul."
"You mean that metaphorically, right?"
"Of course I mean that metaphorically," Rosie clicked her teeth. "But I wouldn't be surprised if his quest for long life proved to be Faustian."
Rosie pointed her finger at a candle, and it lit up.
"Wandless magic?"
"Learnt it in Uganda," Rosie smiled. "It's not the easiest. We've been taught to use wands as a way to focus our powers and not be all over the place, and the key is to harness chaos into order. And it's easier when the spells you weren't taught aren't all in the language of the oppressor."
"That's very … Ancient Egyptian," Eliza noted. The first bit was, at least.
"I'm sure your people did wandless magic too before they invented wands, but I can't do more than a simple fire lighting. Many can do more, but they'd rather not to in fear that the Ministry will crack down."
"The Ministry or a ministry?"
Rosie grinned.
"Cousin, if only you know how much regulation the British has to keep control of things."
"Oh I know quite well," Eliza eyed the Daily Prophet article on Rosie's table. Though the headlines were not being made anymore, they'd resorted to quips about Dumbledore and Harry's mental state. Rita Skeeter had done some damage, and people were stupid enough to believe her.
"They like to live in comfort," Rosie stretched her arms. "Any little topple to the status quo makes them scramble. They don't like facing their problems with a stiff lip, but our countries carry that imperial legacy, don't we?"
"Indeed."
"They say he wants to hear a prophecy in the full – one of those lads, Selwyn, got drunk here just last night. Spilled his guts on the floor."
Eliza frowned. "A prophecy?"
"Now, cousin, I know you what you people think about prophecies –"
"I never said that," Eliza shook her head.
"Eliza?" she heard someone call for her. "Where have you gone off?"
"Now who is that?" Rosie raised her eyebrow. "Are you playing house again?"
They walked outside the tent and encountered Cade, who looked like she was panicking until relief settled over her eyes when they landed on Eliza.
"There you are! Thought you got eaten by a dragon."
"Our dragons are just fine," Rosie said, looking her up and down. Say, you sure do remind me of someone I know."
"And who would you be?" Cade asked.
"The Cousin," Rosie answered. "And the ringmaster."
"You certainly have interesting acquaintances, Eliza," Cade laughed nervously. It's a good thing I'm showing you some better people. Right, we need to leave… where is my wand?"
As Cade looked in her cloaks for her wand, Rosie grinned and squeezed Eliza's hand. She felt a crumbled piece of paper fall into her hand, and Eliza pocketed it.
"Let's just floo our separate ways," Eliza said. "You don't need to be there when… you know," she pointed at the moon.
"Oh, right," Cade muttered. "Uh, well, I guess. Yes, it's a good night for us, then."
Eliza had never been happier.
She grabbed her wand, and like a shot through a tube, she found herself back where she wanted to be.
Not in Little Whinging, not wandering the streets at soirées, at Grimmauld.
She looked around and ran up the stairs. The door unlocked for her, and she tip-toed inside and then ran into the dining room.
Numerous pairs of eyes landed on her.
Molly Weasley looked her up and down.
"You look terrible," Molly scolded. "And you smell like smoke!"
"I went to the circus," Eliza said. "And I have… fun information."
Dumbledore looked at her through her glasses, "Perfect timing."
She repeated everything Rosie told her, and with the news of the prophecy, Severus sucked in a breath of air. There was something there that she didn't know, a look that passed between Dumbledore and Severus.
"Thank you, and I think you deserve some much-needed rest," Dumbledore added. "And perhaps an actual holiday?" the last part was addressed to Arthur, who simply shrugged.
"If she doesn't show up next week, I will pretend not to have noticed."
She squeezed herself into a seat next to Tonks, who nudged her in the arm. Sirius sat across from her, his head resting on his fist as he said nothing. Less attention was paid, and before they knew it, the Order meeting was over.
Kingsley patted Sirius on the shoulder on his way out and then nodded to Eliza.
"I'll see you Wednesday."
"What's Wednesday?"
"My arrest," Sirius answered. He hesitated and then lowered his mouth to her ear. "Can we talk?"
Eliza nodded and gave Tonks an apologetic smile. They could talk another time. Sirius held out his hand, and she took it. He led her up the stairs to the top level, far away from the rumblings of the house and the children. He closed the door to his room.
Eliza was unsure whether she should roll her eyes at the displays of motorcycles and bikini-clad girls on the wall. It was his room from when he was a teenager, after all.
"Blink twice if you're being held hostage," Sirius said.
"What?"
"Because I cannot fathom how else you've been getting all the information and strings to set me free," he emphasised. "It's… a lot like when you were with my mother, that is all. You seem like you barely escaped today. And it didn't even seem dangerous."
Eliza looked at him before letting out a laugh.
"Sirius, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
She looked into his grey eyes. They were slightly bloodshot for goodness knows what reason, and she could feel that his hands were dry. There wasn't much that she could say to him right now, much less how he acted last time they spoke. His long hair fell into his eyes, and she pushed it aside, tucking it behind his ear.
"One more week, and you'll be free," Eliza pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. "That's all I want for you right now."
"Is that all?" he murmured.
"You were always best when you weren't tied down."
"Don't go back to Little Whinging," Sirius begged. "Please."
"Not tonight," she promised. "But… I have to."
She pulled out the piece of crumbled paper that Rosie had given her. She unfolded it.
Cade is The Sister to a Death Eater.
Sirius read it.
"I already knew it," Eliza muttered. "Why else would she be hovering like a hawk, but I had a cousin confirm it."
"Your family is scary. No wonder my mother wanted you."
"Are you sure it's not because we're the only ones you aren't genetically related to?" Eliza grinned. "but tell me… how has Harry been doing?"
Sirius shook his head. "Dumbledore has only now allowed us to send messages that somewhat mention something. I've been telling him to keep his nose clean, not do magic. His friends aren't doing any better. I think… he may do something drastic, if he really is James' kid."
"Did you tell him to do the exact opposite of what you would do?"
Sirius nodded, "Yes. Oh, how I have fallen… but it's important."
Something knocked at their door, and then something scrambled. Eliza frowned and upon opening the door, found Crookshanks at the door eating something that looked like…an ear?
"It's the twins," Sirius seemed amused. "Our successors."
Eliza shook her head and patted Crookshanks on the head.
Harry's birthday passed and soon, it was Wednesday. She rubbed her eyes, the typewriter having jammed itself again.
Sirius stared into the mirror, running his hand through his hair. Remus returned from his mission in time, and the three of them sat in the living room, enjoying at the open fire that Kreacher forcefully made, per Sirius' request.
"Are you ready?" Eliza asked and closed the book on Runes. She didn't return to Little Whinging just yet, and spent the last two days resting at Grimmauld. She was practically bedrotting and allowed herself to lounge in her pajamas, much to Molly's dismay at her not helping around the household.
Hermione argued that according to muggles, rest is the best type of help sometimes and clearly, with the way Eliza slept for 12 hours on and off, it was well needed.
"What if… it all blows up in our faces?" Remus asked. "There's a lot that could go wrong."
"Don't go jinxing it," Sirius grumbled. "It will be okay, and I will be… freed."
"You forgot the trial and a potential media circus," Eliza added. "I really… don't know if I can do that again."
Sirius conjured three glasses and waved his wand, filling it with red wine.
"We're all mad either way, " Sirius noted. I suppose you should get out of your pyjamas, though. That's not a very festive outfit."
They all raised their glass.
"To Harry," Sirius announced. And just as they did, a patronus ran into the room, speaking in the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Eliza could recall many moments in her life when her body went into autopilot, and not another second was needed to think about what she needed to do.
Harry was attacked. And not only that.
Harry was attacked by Dementors.
