I Hate This Part

“Elle, how about this one?” I follow Penny’s voice across the store in Flourish and Blott’s, and find her holding a tattered copy of Advanced Herbology: 5th edition. I glance back at the list in my hands and shake my head.

“Penny, it says Herbology: 5th edition. I’m not Neville. Maybe we should just come back. We still have to go get cauldrons, plus picking out our robes. It’s almost,” I look at my phone, “six o clock, and we have to be back at Grimauld by, like, seven for when Harry gets there. Let’s just get what we can find and leave.”

I don’t mean to diss my dorky cousin. Honestly. I love him to death. Growing up, he was like my older brother. But he’s a nerd. To the extreme. I could never be in an advanced plant growing class. Ever. Arithmancy, yeah. I mean, it’s just basically Muggle math. Granted, I’ve never been spectacular at that as it is, but…Arithmancy is the equivalent to seventh grade algebra, something I’d at least managed a C in.

When Neville came to visit in early July, just days after the Hogwarts term ended, it was evident that he was still trying to keep his secret from us as he helped us pack boxes and fill holes from years of magazine tear out posters. That is, until my parents sat him down and explained the prophecy (and then swore him to secrecy via the Secret Keeper charm). We didn’t tell him about the books, or the fact that he was portrayed by questionably one of the most prime examples of puberty done right to ever grace the earth. We just simply told him that there was a prophecy about me, and it put me in danger, and that somehow, some way, we knew about most things going on at Hogwarts without ever having set foot in the castle.

He looked so relieved, it wasn’t even funny. He just started rattling on and on about how great Professor Sprout was and how we were going to love her class, and then he started (attempting) to show us some spells. Of course, none of us could do any of them yet, because Dumbledore still had our powers. Locked up in one of those glass vials in his office. A binding spell was cast on us as children, and apparently he was just going to keep them locked up.

Unfortunately, I’m the last of us to get our magic. Each time Dumbledore’s visited, he’s come handy with one of the girls’ powers. But not me, yet. Not even on my birthday this last weekend. I mean, come on. I got presents from practically everyone in the house, and I hadn’t even known them that long. I received chocolates from Ron and Hermione (they’d sent the same to Harry and Neville), the most adorable pair of Lily Pulitzer sunglasses from Serena, the complete set of Pretty Little Liar books from Penny, and Love Potions from Fred and George (according to them, they work for 24-ish hours, depending on the weight of the boy and the attractiveness of the girl, and Fred, in his words, believes that I “should get the full effect every time I use them based on the last bit.” He is such a flirt). Ginny even promised to teach me the Bat Bogey curse when we were back at school and could use our powers.

But did Dumbledore come in hand with my powers while we feasted on the royal purple cake Molly made? No. Of course not. So therefore, I can’t get my wand. Yeah, I can play Quidditch and mess around with some potions stuff, but what’s the point in being a witch without having any magic? Every day it’s getting harder and harder watching Penny and Serena go off with Lupin, who’s been on strictly the prophecy and our sans magic upbringing, along with Tonks, Moody, Sirius and the Weasley parents, to learn their magic. Dumbledore received special dispensation from the ministry to assure that we were “caught up” with the rest of our classmates – meaning they couldn’t prosecute us for practicing our magic, unlike Harry.

Penny taps Serena, who’s skimming over a row of Transfiguration books, on the arm, and she glances at us, and grabs three copies of Transfiguration for fifth years. I could honestly spend all day in this store. I mean, sure, Penny’s the genius one out of this group. She’s smart and quiet, Serena’s brave and loud, and I’m…me. A combination of the two; loud and smart; witty and creative. And yet some how, I’m the only one of us still kind of freaking out about this whole thing. Four months ago we were begging for freshman year back in Louisiana to be over, and now we’re boarding in Sirius’ place until the year starts, and our parents can find two places close to the headquarters.

It’s kind of odd, because, well, we’re boarding with characters from a book series. Imagine how awkward that would be. It’s like sharing a house with Romeo and Juliet. You know their going to die for each other in the end, and yet you can’t tell them.

Or, at least, that’s how Dumbledore explained it last week when we moved in and became secret keepers. And, on top of all that, Serena, Penny and I are the youngest people in the Order. Dumbledore and our parents felt it was important, seeing as we “share a large amount of information that could be vital to keeping the wizarding world on the right track.” Ok, I think that Dumbledore’s been popping one to many lemon drops on an empty stomach, if you know what I mean. But, aside from the occasional strange look from Snape, who’s stopped by multiple times since we moved in, and we’ve since realized that he is as funky looking as described in the books, no one else really bothered us about the Order meetings. That is, until the Weasley’s moved in shortly before my birthday. Boy, as soon a Ginny caught word that we were aloud into the meetings, but she and Ron, the oldest of all of us before Hermione arrived, weren’t, she flipped.

Of course, the Weasley twins are probably the easiest ones to get along with in the house, what with the WWW products being tested this summer and all. They totally make me forget what I’m doing in a fictional world. And the fact that their both totally gorgeous with their ginger hair and Quidditch bodies might help a bit. And Ginny’s a lot like me, stubborn and strong, with a fierceness that brings out the best (and worst) in her.

Ron is a whole different story. There’s a reason that JK mentions those damn ears so many times in the books. I don’t know if you’re aware, but my friends and I, much to Hermione and Ron’s disapproval, are very, very perverted. We have excuses, though. I mean, come on, we’re public school kids from the south. Public school kids anywhere will most likely be pretty perverted. In addition, my older cousins on my mom’s side, Max and Terry, were giving me the sex talk in fourth grade. They were four years older than me, and I barely knew what a kiss was. Passing my knowledge onto Penny and Serena didn’t help very much, though. And every time we mentioned anything sexually related in the presence of either Ron or Hermione, Ron would turn red and look down, and Hermione would hide under that mess she calls hair. And JK wasn’t just kidding when she called it a mane.

Like I said, it’s been weird living with all these people, but I think the most awkward part is going to be tonight, when Harry comes in. I mean, we already know how it’s going to go pretty much, but at the same time, not. Each experience as we’ve read it – seen it – has been so incredibly different than we imagined. Because there’s no comparison to living it. No feeling could be like actually interacting with these people, our heroes.

Serena walks ahead of us to the checkout counter, where the rest of our required books are stacked, and throws down the three thick editions of the Transfiguration books. The lady at the register smiles at us.

“Hogwarts days, gotta love ‘em.” She laughs and begins checking us out. Easy for you to say, lady. You’re not walking into that school knowing that every person in the building is in mortal danger.

Forty minutes later, we’d ordered all of our robes and from Madam Malkin’s (apparently we were just getting black, and Professor Dumbledore would add our houses after being sorted), picked up our gray skirts, vests, sweaters and socks for our uniform, and met Moody at The Leaky Cauldron. “You lot ready?” he asks. We shake our bags, and he rolls his eye, grabbing onto my hand, and in turn, I grab onto Serena, and she holds Penny’s hand. I feel that all too obvious feeling of apparation, a wave of nausea, and less than two second’s later, we’re back on the front steps of Number 12, Grimauld Place. Moody knocks once, and as soon as Mrs. Weasley opens the door, there’s a soft pop and he’s gone again.

“Off to pick up Harry, I suppose. Tonks just left. There’s been some big ruckus at his aunt and uncles. As per usual, I say. Come on in! Supper’s getting fixed before the meeting,” Mrs. Weasley cries, ushering us into the house. I can smell a roast in the oven, and Serena rubs her stomach.

“Smell’s awesome, Mrs. W. I’m so hungry.” Mrs. Weasley smiles appreciatively.

“You three have appetites like my boys.” We trudge upstairs laughing, and throw our things on our respective beds in the room. We change quickly, and I notice that Penny and Serena, acting true as sisters, both re-do their makeup before heading over to Ginny and Hermione’s room. Hermione sits facing the door on her bed, her legs crossed, arms on either side of her, and Ginny is no where in sight. Ron, however, is sitting on her bed, facing Hermione. They seem to be in an animate conversation, but stop abruptly as we walk in and close the door. “What are you two up to?” I ask sweetly. Hermione breathes out deeply and crosses her arms.

“We’re trying to figure out how to explain this whole thing to Harry when he gets here,” she says. “I mean, about the Order and everything. He’s coming in tonight, everyone just left to pick him up. We haven’t been able to write him or anything, you know, on account of Dumbledore.” She’s rambling on and on. Oh dear God. “But, I mean, I don’t want him to think that we didn’t want to. And with this whole trial thing at the ministry, it’s going to be a hell for him ‘till school starts.” Hermione stops. “What do you think we should say, Elle?” I blink, surprised she’s asking me.

“Uhm…” I hear, in the hallway, Lupin’s voice welcoming Harry. And then, footsteps coming up the stairs. “Well, I don’t know what ya’ll should say, but you better figure that out quick, because…” I pull Penny and Serena aside just as the door bangs open, and Hermione gasps.

“Harry!” She pulls him into a hug, and they launch into the conversation I’ve read so many times, about the Order, and Grimauld, and Sirius, and the stupid trial; Voldemort, Dumbledore. Harry doesn’t even notice us for a full three minutes. It isn’t until Ron and I both yell “Pig, shut it!” to the still screeching owl in the corner. But by that time, I’m still a bit shell shocked. The main character and hero of one of my favorite book series’ is standing in front of me, looking very, very good in a pair of dark wash jeans and a blue tee shirt. I can see his scar through his hair, and the light from the chandelier on the ceiling bounces off his glasses.

When he finally does notice us, he stops mid-sentence, and gives us all a once over. “Have you three been standing there the entire time?” I nod meekly and smile.

“Sorry. We thought you’d see us.” Serena laughed behind me, and I smooth out my green Lilly Pulitzer dress, praying that my hair hadn’t frizzed in the heat of the summer. Harry is a lot cuter than I’d imagined. Like, Daniel Radcliffe doesn’t do shit for him. His Quidditch-earned muscles ripple under his tee shirt, and when he turns around, his raven hair shines in the light.

What the hell am I saying? He’s a fictional character! I’ve been reading about him since I was like, ten! I can not think he’s hot. But he is. Oh so cute. Jesus Christ. Get a grip, Elle.

In the two second’s it’s taken me to have a mental war with myself, Harry’s still staring at me. I feel myself blush. “I’m Elle, and this is Penny and Serena.” I gesture to them in turn and saw Serena wave half-heartedly out of the corner of my eye. “We’re new to Hogwarts.” I look back at Penny and she nods, smiling as well. Looking back at Harry, he’s still staring, one eyebrow raised. “Our parents…they went to school together. Ours,” I gesture to him, “and yours.” He looks shocked.

“Your parents…knew mine?” I nod again.

“We’ve been out of the country for a while, but our parents decided to come back. Sirius is letting us stay here until they can find houses. I guess they were all friends at Hogwarts.”

“And you three know about…” he gestures to the door, where we can hear mumbling still coming from the room downstairs. We nod.

“Of course. Wouldn’t be here if we didn’t!” He looks at Hermione, as if trying to figure out if we’re believable or not. She gives him a look that everyone can read pretty clearly. He sighs, and then looks at me.

“Well. Any friends of my parents must have good kids.” And then he sticks his hand out. I shake his hand warmly, and feel the tension in the room melt away, but I catch him giving Hermione another sideways glance. “So you three are from the Americas?” He grins and plops down on the bed like we’re old friends, and I smile.

“Yep. We were all born here, but we moved when our parents got jobs there.” Penny and Serena nod in agreement and smile. Not the entire story, but it’ll do for now. We all grab seats opposite of the other three on Ginny’s bed and launch into a discussion about America.

“You went to an American Wizarding school, then?” Harry asks, and we nod in unison, myself being the first person to answer.

“New Orleans Secondary. Little place outside of the city. Most of the state’s witches and wizards go there.” I smile proudly, as if I haven’t just lied to his face. “Everyone in town thought it was this snooty boarding school for rich kids.”

“That’s smart,” he says. “I think last time I heard my uncle said that I was at St. Brute’s, the school for criminals.” Harry scowls and I see Ron fighting a laugh. Hermione finally pipes into the conversation.

“Penny here’s top of their class. Taking all advanced classes and everything.” Ron grins.

“So does that mean you can study with her? A year without the library! Wouldn’t that be amazing?” He looks at Harry, then Penny, who’s already blushing. “Oh, please do.” We all laugh quietly as Penny’s face gets redder and Hermione looks pissed.

“He’s just joking, hun,” I say, half laughing. Hermione shakes her head.

“Everyone’s so unappreciative,” she mutters. We all laugh.

“Don’t worry.” I laugh and look at Penny. “I prefer a good book over a wild party. But I do know how to party, if you know what I mean.” I wiggle my eyebrows and Penny, Serena and Harry crack up. Ron and Hermione, not so much. Both turn red and look down. Geeze. Get a grip, guys. “Serena and I play Quidditch as well.” Harry and Ron both immediately cheer up, and Hermione and Penny both look pained. I know Penny hates sports, but Sirius has been showing me and Serena the ropes and basics of Quidditch and both of us are actually really good at the Beater part, even if I’m better as a Seeker. I usually have no sense of coordination, but I think because I’ve known the rules of the game for years now I’m used to picturing things I my head and I know how things are supposed to go.

At dinner, Mrs. Weasley announces we’re cleaning the house. Most people groan, but Serena, Penny and I expected it, so we came prepared. Mom, Dad and the McAllister’s are out looking for new jobs and house hunting pretty much all the time as of late, so we were stuck at home with everyone else. By the end of dinner, cleaning is long forgotten. Talk of Doxy’s in curtains turns into talk of Voldemort, and the collective shudders around the table are shared by everyone but Serena, Penny and I. Fear of a name, and all. I think High School is what made us hard, really. It’s like hearing the head cheerleaders name and shuddering - she’s not going to see it, so why give her the satisfaction of knowing you freak even when she’s not in the room?

Ginny begrudgingly stomps up the stairs after everyone else is told they can stay for the meeting. I give her a cursory glance, and mouth that I’d fill her in later. For some reason, I feel a kind of…connection with Ginny. She’s very similar to me, in more than one way, and knows basically what I’m thinking when I think it. While Ron may be her older brother, Ginny is vastly more mature than him, both in how she acts and thinks.

The next morning, we set off to clean. “Elle, come check this out!” I hear Fred call from the other room. I know, they’re twins. I shouldn’t be able to tell them apart. But, I’m good at this stuff. My little cousins on my mom’s side are twins and I can tell their voices apart just like I can with the Weasley’s. I put my rag down on the windowsill that Penny and I are currently cleaning and walk out into the hall, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. Summer Friday mornings are meant to be slept in. Not spending the morning hours cleaning. So to say I’m a bit grumpy right now is an understatement.

“Where are you?” I call out, looking in each room.

“I’m down in the loo by our room!” I stop in my tracks momentarily, questioning why Fred was calling me to meet him in the restroom, and then, rolling my eyes, continue down the hallway. I look to my left as I’m about to walk into the bathroom and see Harry, by himself. When I realize what room he’s in, I stop dead, and then turn into the room without missing a beat. He’s standing, staring at a large tapestry covered wall with scorch marks all over it. I fight a gasp as I read the names.

“Is this…?” I trail off, and Harry nods.

“I think so. I see some names I recognize…” He points to Belatrix, and then Tonx’s mom’s name. I cringe involuntarily, my mind flashing back to those horrible scenes in the fifth book that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. And then I realize that that’s going to happen. It’s what scares me the most. I reach forward, not even thinking, and swipe my fingers across the burnt bit covering where I know Siruis and Tonx’s faces should be. “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” he reads off.

“Well there’s a pompous name if I’ve ever heard one.” I let out a snort.

“You have no idea.” I jump involuntarily. Sirius stands leaning against the other doorway, looking at us. “I haven't looked at this for years,” he says, coming up in front of us, and swiping his hand across the tattered fabric. “There's Phineas Nigellus… my great-great-grandfather, see?… least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had… and Araminta Meliflua… cousin of my mothers… tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal.” He gestures to each mark. “…and dear Aunt Elladora… she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays… of course, any time the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here.” He swipes his hand over a scorch mark closer to us, and I step back. “Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her - he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him-

Harry cuts him off. “You and Tonks are related?” He sounds surprised.

“Oh, yeah, her mother Andromeda was my favourite cousin,” Sirius says, examining the tapestry closely. “No, Andromeda's not on here either, look.” He points to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa. “Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so…” He mimes blasting a wand at the tapestry, and I smile at his joke. Harry, however, does not. I follow his line of vision, and my eyes widened. I’d completely forgotten….

“You're related to the Malfoys!” Harry cries, almost more surprised than before.

“Who are they again?” I feign forgetfulness and scratch my head. The members of the order had vaguely mentioned the Malfoys in their explanation of known Death Eaters, but I wanted to hear this out of his mouth.

“Right gits,” Harry spits. Sirius makes a face, just as Serena and Fred walk in, carrying boxes.

“Who’s a right git?” Serena puts down her box as she speaks, and lets out a deep breath, pulling her tee shirt down and track shorts up. Fred does the same. Not about the track shorts, I mean. Fred in track shorts is kind of a scary thought.

“The Malfoys,” Harry says, echoing Sirius’ look of disgust. Fred makes the same face, and Serena and I raise our eyebrows. I kind of want to laugh. I mean, sure, Malfoys an ass. But he’s not a total git.

But I have to remind myself that they don’t know that yet. That only the three of us really know what’s gonna happen with him.

“Isn’t this one our age?” I point to Draco’s smirking face on the tapestry. “Snape mentioned something about it in the last meeting.”

“Yeah,” Harry snorted. “But he hardly acts it.”

“What boy does?” Serena says, crossing her arms. Sirius laughs. She leans towards me, close enough to where I can only hear. “I think he’s kinda cute.” She gestures to Malfoy’s image on the wall. “I mean, kinda. I did before.”

“We don’t know that yet,” I say, shrugging. “For all we know, Tom Felton could be a severe understatement to his hotness. Danielle was.” Sirius clears his throat, and I turn back around. All three guys have their eyebrows raised.

“If you two are done…”

A week passes by. A freaking week of cleaning, organizing, dusting (and following that, sneezing for hours on end), wiping and washing. Screaming from that bloody painting down stairs. And it’s finally the day of Harry’s hearing. Before dawn, I can hear Molly fussing over him downstairs from our room, and over my head with my pillow, begging for a few more moments of sleep.

But of course, that’s not what happens. Because I hear footsteps walk across the room, and the curtains are yanked open, a blinding light seeping in through the cracks under my hands.

“The light, it burns!” I smile into my pillow. Have I mentioned my friends and I are ridiculously alike? I groan and flip over, sitting up in my pillow and swiping at my eyes.

“Really, Mrs. W?” The woman walking across the room chortles and blows out the candle in her hands.

“Breakfast is ready downstairs. I’ll expect you all down there within the next couple of minutes.” When she leaves, she shuts the door, and I look at the two girls sitting up in their beds next to me. Without saying a word, the three of us fall back into our beds, pillows covering our faces.

Two minutes later, there’s a bang from downstairs, and then the familiar voice of Ms. Black screaming from inside her painting.

“I think they did that on purpose,” Penny mutters from under her pillow. I nod, even though no one can see me, and sit back up in bed, finally waking up. The two soon follow, and without even glancing in the mirror, we grab our robes (newly bought-Penny’s was blue, Serena’s was pink and mine was purple) and walk downstairs. We meet Ron in the walkway, and he gives us all a once over, seemingly in the same disarray we are, and then follow him downstairs to the dining room. Everyone else is already in there; including our parents. It’s been almost two days since I’ve seen my parents. They’ve been out of the house, looking at properties around the area with the McAllisters, and interviewing for jobs like no others.

“Don’t you four look lovely,” George says with a snicker as we plop down into our seats. I give him a sarcastic smirk.

“I think they look fine,” counters Fred, giving me a once over. “Though…you have a bit of drool.” He stands up and leans over the table, pointing to a single spot on the side of my face. “Just there.” I embarrassingly wipe it off of my face with the sleeve to my robe, refusing to meet Fred’s eyes, and gesture to Hermione, who’s sitting across from me, already dressed and looking way too chipper for this early in the morning.

“Can you please pass the sausage?” She nods and hands me the plate, and Serena and I start piling it on our plates.

“Morning to you too,” my mother says, rolling her eyes at us.

“Morning.” Somehow, the three of us manage to say it at the same time, and I smirk to myself as I pour a glass of milk. “How’s the house hunt going?” Penny asks as Serena and I both shove sausage patties in our mouth.

“Good,” Uncle Tim replies, taking a sip of his coffee. “We found a couple of houses right down the street from each other closer to the center of town-near Downing Street.”

“Ohhh, Downing Street.” Mrs. Weasley sits down as she speaks, and her eyebrows are raised high as kites. “That would be fun to live by.”

“Not that we’d be spending much time there,” Serena says, swallowing a gulp of water. “I mean, Hogwarts is a boarding school.”

“Well you didn’t spend much time at home before, did you?” Ginny asks. My fork freezes mid way to my mouth, my breath hitching. We’d told the Weasley family that we’d gone to a boarding school in the southern part of the state. So acting like being away from the house was a big deal is a huge no no.

Somehow, we avoid the question. I have no idea how, but we did. Serena said something about getting lots of home time because we lived near campus, a total load of BS that she dished quite well.

Mrs. Weasley lets us know we have the day off as we head up to get dressed for the day, so the only thing I bother doing is throw my hair up in a ponytail, put on a pair of track shorts and a tee shirt, and swipe a little mascara on my eyelids. As Penny and Serena are whisked away to study with Lupin, I’m left in my room to read Pretty Little Liars. I’m literally half way done with the first book, when someone knocks on my door. It’s Sirius, and he tells me that Dumbledore is waiting downstairs for me. I raise my eyebrows, but set my book down on my bed, instinctively grasping my cell phone and running down the stairs to meet him. Sirius leads me into a side room-one I haven’t been in before. It looks like an old office, one that hasn’t been used in years. Dust seems to loom in the air when we walk in (obviously, this is the one room Mrs. Weasley hasn’t touched this week), and before seeing the man at the desk, I spot some sort of hand (not of the human variety) in a jar on one of the shelves and shudder.

“Not as abnormal here as you’d think, Ms. Fawley,” Dumbledore says with a smile. I make a face and sit down in the cushy chair across the large, old desk from him.

“Believe me,” I say with a grimace. “I know. I saw the elephant foot umbrella holder by the door, and don’t even get me started on the elf heads.” Dumbledore lets out a small chuckle and leans back in his seat.

“Be that as it may, Elle, I’m not really hear to discuss the Black family’s choice in décor. Can you take a guess as to why I am here?” I purse my lips and lean back.

“Well I can tell you why I want you to be here.” He raises his eyebrows. “My magic?” The smile that plays on his lips, just barely visible beneath all that hair, makes my heart jump. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He picks up a small velvet bag, no bigger than something I would put my phone and money in while going to the mall, and pulls out a small, clear vial. I can see some sort of purple-ish liquid swirling around inside, small whisps of air floating to the empty space up top.

“Is this…is this it?” I lean forward, coming eye level with it, and stare for a moment. What I’ve been waiting for the last three months, yearning to receive with every ounce of my being, was being held five inches in front of me.

“It is.” He brings the vial back towards him, standing up and coming around the desk. He motions for me to stand up, which I do, and he slowly twists the glass stopper out of the top, gingerly setting it on the desk behind him. He pulls his wand out of his pocket-I glance at it, and realize for the first time that it’s the Elder wand-and sets it at the lip of the vial. “Are you ready?” The three words I’ve been going over and over in my head. Are. You. Ready. Am I ready to accept the responsibility that comes with this gift? With these powers? Am I ready to become what I’ve always wanted to be, despite the enormous burden it might put on me?

“Yes.” In mere seconds, he’s done it. He pulls his wand up, and a trail of purple atoms follows. He points the wand to the crook of my neck, which is the only part of me visible, and suddenly, everything in front of me goes hazy. I don’t faint; but I feel myself wobble as a warmth spreads over me, even more so than usual in the summer heat. My fingers tingle, my head pounds, and my toes curl. And suddenly it’s all gone. Like nothing ever happened. I look at Dumbledore, my eyes wide, and he smiles again. “That was…odd.”

“I’d expect so. Fifteen years of pent up magic, all coming whooshing in at once.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “How does it feel?” I’m quiet for a minute, trying to put it into words.

“It feels….right.” He nods, his face looking thoughtful, and then he leads me to the door.

“Nymphadora is waiting in the kitchen for you-she will take you to get your wand. Do you have any questions?” Wait, what? I blink, completely surprised.

“You’re not…coming with me? You’re not explaining things or giving me long lessons on the importance of being careful with magic?” He gives me a quaint smile.

“Elle, you of all people know the importance of being careful with magic.” He opens the door just a little bit, and then looks back at me. “When the time is right, I’ll call for you. Just be ready to start.” Start what? I want to ask. But before I can, there’s a large crash and then Mrs. Black starts screaming again.

“So you’ve only been an auror for a year now?” I question Tonks as we walk down the streets of Diagon Alley. People are giving us weird looks now; partially for the fact that I’m wearing complete and total Muggle clothes right now, and partially because Tonks is currently wearing a pigs nose on her face. I completely forgot she’s a Metamorphmagus, but then, while we were grabbing a Butterbeer (one of my new favorite things about this whole world) at the Leaky Couldron, she started laughing, and brought her nose out of her cup to reveal a duck beak. I honestly thought I was going to piss my pants. So as we walk down to Gringotts, I talk to her about everything-her life, her job. Her…friends. No. I haven’t forgotten that she doesn’t fall for Lupin till this coming summer. But I still see the way she looks at him whenever we all eat dinner together.

“Yep. Just got qualified last summer.” I shake my head. But she’s so…good at what she does. She seems to be one of the two reasons any of us are safe right now (the other being Moody). “Listen,” she starts, looking down at the ground as we walk. “I don’t know exactly what all this is about-Dumbledore didn’t tell me very much to begin with. But I know that you’re new to this-that you only just got your powers. And that you know a lot about us, despite not knowing us or of our world until recently. And I don’t know how exactly that works.” Her nose goes back to normal, and she looks at me. “But if you need anything, I’m here. I know how hard being the new girl can be, especially when you’re a bit…different from everyone else.” I raise my eyebrows.

“Different?”

“I can’t place my finger on it,” she says. “But there’s something different about you, Elle. I think everyone can kind of sense it. That’s why we’re all kind of…drawn to you. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.” She slings her arm around my shoulder. “And when you do, be sure to let me know.”

Our trip to Gringotts is relatively uneventful. I exchange what would be about $100 in American money into wizarding money, and then we head straight for Ollivanders. I think this is the one shop I was really excited to go into when we were here last, but never got to. Neither Penny nor Serena will tell me what happened while they were here, but they have shown me their wands-Penny’s was Beech with Dragon Heartstring, and Serena’s was Willow with Unicorn Tail. When we walk in, the first thing I notice is the smell-something between burning wood and moth balls. I love it. As we come up to the counter, like something straight out of the first movie, Ollivander comes riding along the side of one of the isles on a ladder. The entire shop looks really similar to the one portrayed in the books and movies, I’m happy to say. As does the man walking up to the counter. With long, white hair and dressed to the nines like most wizards, with lines and wrinkles surrounding his mouth and eyes. “Mr. Ollivander!”

“Ms. Tonks!” he says, coming up to the counter. “Mahogony, 11 inches, Pixie hair, correct?” Tonks nods, laughing. Then Ollivander looks to me. “You must be Ms. Fawley. Albus told me you were coming. I expected you a few years ago, but I’m glad you finally chose to come in.” He leans on his elbows. “I remember when your parents came in to get their wands - it was the same day, actually. Your mother’s was quite beautiful-Hawthorn, 10 inches with phoenix feather. And your fathers, Cedar, 12 inches with essence of dragon scales.” He turns back, looking at the stacks upon stacks of wands behind him. “Lets see here….what will we try first?” He walks along one of the isles, and pulls a pretty blue box out, walking back and setting it down on the desk. He opens it up, and picks up a thin, redish looking wand made of light wood. “Try this one.”

I glance at Tonks, and she gives me an encouraging smile. I point it at a plant behind the desk, looking slightly dreary, and try the first spell I can think of that has anything to do with water. “Aguamenti!” Instead of a stream of water coming out of my wand, a kind of puff of smoke explodes out of the end, and the flowers look even more dreary. Mr. Ollivander laughs, takes the wand back, and goes for another one.

“Blimey. I didn’t learn that spell till probably…sixth year?” Tonks raises her eyebrows at me. “How’d you learn it so fast?”

“I’ve known that one for a couple of years,” I say coolly, leaning against the counter. “I just haven’t been able to actually do it.”

“Still can’t,” she says with a wink. I laugh, and stick my tongue out at her.

“Here we go!” Ollivander comes back with another one, taking it out of it’s box and handing it to me. “This one should do the trick. Cherry, like your friend Penny’s.” I want to ask how he knows Penny and I are friends, but then I remember that this is Dumbledore’s friend we’re to. So I just hold the piece of wood in my hands, point at a glass bottle of what looks like Butterbeer sitting on the counter.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” I think it’s safe to say that my attempt to make the bottle levitate does not go according to plan. In the simplest words I can manage…it explodes. Violently.

“Nope. Nope. Definitely not.” I gingerly set the wand down on the desk, and Tonks looks like she’s about to start laughing. As Ollivander puts the wand back in the box, he pauses. “I wonder….” This is getting way too much like Harry’s experience in this same shop. He pulls the box under his arm, and disappears down the isle, a moment later coming back with another one. The outside is a deep purple, and when he opens it, the wand inside is nestled in a velvet of the same color. He slowly picks up the wand, examining it before handing it to me. “I never thought I’d see the day someone tried this one out. But it looks like the day’s come.”

“What’s so special about it?” I ask, almost afraid to take it from him.

“You’ll see. If this is meant for you…you’ll know.” I pause for a moment, before finally taking the handle from him, and grasping it in my hand. Like in the room with Dumbledore, a kind of…warmth spreads over me. It starts at my hand, and goes all the way down to my toes. I point the wand at one of the windows on the side of the shop.

“Tergeo!” In the blink of an eye, all the dirt on the window just…falls off. I blink, eyes wide, shocked. Tonks lets out an excited laugh behind me, and put a hand on my shoulder.

“Looks like you found your wand!” I turn back to Ollivander, still surprised.

“It shouldn’t have worked that well,” I said with a head shake. “That was the first time I’ve ever used that spell. With a wand, at least.”

“I’m not surprised,” he says with a knowing smile. “The owner of that wand,” he gestures to the one in my hand, “is very special indeed.” I cock my head to the side, confused. He elaborates. “This wand,” he reaches out for it, and I hand it to him, “is completely unique. Probably the only combination of its kind.” He points to the dark handle. “This is ebony. In wandmaking, it signifies a stubborn, individualist owner who will not sway easily from their beliefs.” He runs his hand over the tip of the wand (and I, of course, fight a laugh at how wrong the gesture looks). “This is larch. It means the owner of the wand has potential beyond their beliefs, and will enstil confidence in the user.” He sets it down on the desk, and leans over, getting closer to me. “The core is made of Thesteral tail hair. This wand…this wand is for the very complicated.”

“Just for you, then.” I glance back and Tonks and roll my eyes.

“Obviously,” Ollivander says. “This wand is going to be especially good at protective spells, especially deflection.” I ponder at how this may work. From the way all of this is going, it looks like I might need that protective quality. A lot. “And the thesteral…” He shakes his head. “I think I’ve sold maybe fifteen wands in my life, which I might add, has been very long, with thesteral hair in them.” He looks me square in the eyes, and smiles. “You, Ms. Fawley, are in for something very big. Something very special.” He hands me back the wand, and closes the box up, handing it to me too. “4 Galleons even. And for you, I’ll throw in a holster.”

When I get home, the entire house is in mass chaos. “He got off, he got off, he got off…” Tonks drops me off, saying she has a few errands to run, and I walk into the kitchen to find Fred, George, Serena and Ginny dancing around the kitchen, singing at the top of their lungs. Penny is sitting at the table with Hermione, and while Penny looks fit to burst with laughter, Hermione sits cradling her head with her hands. “He got off, he got off, he got off!” Ginny notices I’m standing by the door, and dances around the table, grabbing my hand and pulling me into their dancing circle. I laugh and join in, lifting my hands in the air with Serena.

“That’s enough!” Mr. Weasley calls. “Quiet down!” He’s not being very convincing. The smile on his face is hard to take seriously. “Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry-”

“WHAT?” Sirius half shouts over our chants.

“Be quiet you five! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on Level Nine, then they went up to Fudge’s office together. Dumbledore ought to know.”

“Absolutely,” Sirius says with a nod. “We’ll tell him. Don’t worry.”

“Well, I better get going, there’s a vomiting toilet waiting for me in Bethnal Green. Molly, I’ll be late, I’m covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping by for dinner-”

“He got off, he got off, he got off….”

“THAT’S ENOUGH-Fred-George-Ginny-Serena-Elle!” Ms. Weasley says as Mr. Weasley leaves the kitchen.

My first lesson is the next day. After a quick (well, as quick as you can get with Mrs. Weasley) breakfast, Serena, Penny and I all practically run back into the room where Lupin sits with his toast and eggs at a desk, mulling over an issue of the Daily Prophet.

“Finally got your wand, huh?” he asks when he sees me with the group. I nod, smiling sheepishly. “Well, give it here.” I hand it over to him, feeling almost odd giving it to someone else, and he inspects it. “What’s it made out of?”

“Larch and Ebony.” He blinks, looking surprised.

“There’s an odd combination if I’ve ever heard one.” He hands it back to me, and stands up, finishing the last bites of his food and folding his newspaper neatly. “Today, girls, we’ll be doing a very special spell.” He looks at me. “I know you haven’t been able to try out many spells, but I think you’ll grasp the concept of this one quite well.” Lupin comes around and sits on the side of the desk. “Harry, you can come in now!” he calls to the door. It creaks open to reveal a slightly disheveled Harry, who hadn’t been down for breakfast.

“You okay, Harry?” Penny asks, looking as concerned as we all felt.

“Just a bad dream,” he says with a small smile, closing the door behind him and coming to sit next to Lupin on the desk.

“I don’t normally teach this to people, especially ones so young as you three.” Lupin gestures to us. “But I taught it to Harry in his third year, and you’re are just as quick as him.” Harry nods next to him.

“If not more.”

“Wait a sec…” Serena starts, glancing at me. “What exactly are we learning here?”

“The Patronus Charm,” Harry says with a smirk. One that I kind of want to smack off his face. Lupin stands up, and moves towards a large trunk I haven’t noticed before.

“Harry is here because he’s the only person I know that can do this.”

“Do what?” Penny asks.

“Turn a boggart into a dementor.” I involuntarily scooch back in my chair-dementors have always freaked me out. Especially in the movies. “Now, Harry is going to stand next to the trunk to turn it. I want each of you to come stand up front and try and use the Patronus charm.”

“Penny's first!” Serena says before Lupin can pick one of us to go. Penny glares at her sister, but stands up, pulling her wand out of her sweatshirt pocket.

“You know the incantation, right?” Penny nods to Lupin’s question, and he brandishes his own wand, moving it in a kind of figure eight pattern. “Expecto patronum.” A large, hairy wolf comes streaming out of his wand, prances around for a few seconds, and then disappears. He looks at Harry. “You ready?” Harry nods, pulling out his wand for good measure, and Lupin pulls the lid of the trunk open. A large, black, cloaked figure flies out of it, and Penny, hands shaking, raises her wand.

“Expecto patronum!” A small, silvery whisp comes out of the tip of Penny’s wand, and the figure in front of her shrinks back a few feet, before turning on the next person around him; Harry. He points his wand at it, and turns to Serena.

“Serena, you’re up!” She stands quickly, pulls her wand out, and yells the spell as if her life depends on it.

“Expecto patronum!” A larger swirl of silvery air comes out of her wand, and turns the dementor’s attention back to her before it shrinks away again.

“Elle!” At Lupin’s call, I stand up and pull my wand, slowly, out of my jacket pocket. My hands are trembling like Penny’s before me, and as I point my wand at the now advancing Dementor, I glance at Harry, who gives me an encouraging smile.

“Expecto patronum!” I say it a little lighter than Serena did, but I feel a kind of blast of energy out of me, expecting a small whisp like the two before me. But no. What came out was a full fletched woodland creature, who prances around the figure, who’s five times as large as it is. The Dementor, seeing the full patronus, completely collapses back into the box, and Lupin closes it before it comes back out. I blink, completely stunned, and the patronus does the same to me. It has wide eyes, with long eyelashes and what looks like light fur. And holy shit…those ears. They’re like Dumbo!

“What the….” Before Serena can finish her sentence, the animal takes a few more steps and then disappears into a puff of silvery air. I look at Lupin, and his face matches everyone elses. Complete and utter shock.

“What in Merlin’s name was that?” Harry asks.

“I think it was a fox.” I turn around at Penny’s words, and laugh.

“That was a fox?”

“It looked like it!” She held up her hands in defense, and shook her head. Lupin still looked shocked.

“I’ve never seen a corporeal patronus out of anyone their first time.”

“I passed out my first time,” Harry comments, sticking his wand in his back pocket. “Wait till Hermione hears about this. She can’t even make a whisper of a patronus.” Serena comes up behind me and rests her hand on my shoulder, giving it a shake.

“Way to go, girl!” I look back at her, and then at my wand in my hand. I can’t believe I just did that. My first major spell, and I did it perfectly.

To say I was overjoyed would have been a severe understatement.

By the second to the last day of summer, the rest of the group is anxiously awaiting their Hogwarts letters. In the morning, we’re heading out to play a game of Quidditch when our parents burst through the front door. We’d been planning on meeting with Lupin to get our last lesson before school started, but as soon as we see the excited looks on all their faces, we know something’s up.

“We’ve done it!” my mother calls, crashing down at the kitchen table.

“Done what?” Penny asks, taking a tray of latte’s from her own mother’s hand and setting it on the table. I count eight all together, and wonder subconsciously who the last one is for.

“Found houses-and jobs!” I blink at them. Really? Seriously? All in one day?

“We found two houses-right next door from each other. They’re about three blocks over from here, six from Downing Street.” My dad beams as he talks.

“We’re going in to sign the contracts this afternoon, but when we saw them together yesterday we knew they were perfect,” Mom says.

“And both Tim and I,” my dad gestures to Uncle Tim, “have been hired on at the Ministry.”

“Seriously?” Serena is just as shocked as the rest of us.

“Really. Apparently a few of their investigators for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were caught selling all sorts of Ministry acquired artifacts” I hide the laugh that threatens to spill out of my mouth at my father’s words. “All the people under there are apparently quite inadequate. So they were looking to hire full time immediately, and there we were!”

“Where were you weeks ago when I was fighting the DMLE?” Harry moans, resting his broom against the wall. I finally laugh at the hilarity of it all, though there’s this feeling in the pit of my stomach, something that reminds me that their time at the Ministry should be short lived - will be short lived, if I have anything to do with it. By the end of sixth year, it’s going to go to shit.

“This cute little boutique downtown,” Aunt Lindsey starts, “was looking for a buyer. I went in this morning and they hired me on the spot!” Serena hugs her mom, letting out a little squeal.

“You have to send us all the latest stuff!” she says with a grin. My mother finally speaks.

“I went in and talked to this booking agency I read about online-they’re supposed to be pretty good. They signed me on a contract-to-hire basis, but it looks like this will be right up my alley.” The light in my moms eyes makes me smile, and I hug her.

“And in celebration,” Dad says, pulling up a bag and setting it on the table. “We come bearing presents!”

“And lattes!” Mom says, taking one out of the holder and handing it to me. She hands everyone else one, and Uncle Tim comes up behind my dad and pulls out a little box out of the bag in front of them.

“For Penny.” He hands her the box, and she sets it on the table and opens it, while he goes back and grabs another box from the bag, giving it to Serena. “And Serena.”

“And we’ve got one in here for you, Elle.” Dad reaches in and pulls out another box, handing it to me. I follow Penny and Serena, and open my box. The three of us gasp simultaneously, seeing what’s inside.

“How did you…” Serena mutters, glancing up at our parents.

“Lupin might have let it slip that you three mastered your Patronus charms-before fifth year, none the less,” Uncle Tim adds with an appreciative smile. I look back down at the contents of my box and grin. Inside lies a small terrarium, no bigger than a sheet of paper. I pull it out and inspect it. Inside, the base is littered with snow colored sand and small rocks, with a little pile of them on one side. It isn’t until I see the movement near the rocks that I notice there’s a living breathing creature inside there. “Your patronus is a Fennec, right?” I nod wordlessly to my fathers question, and sit down at the table, putting the cage in front of me.

“And yours is a Scottie, correct?” Aunt Lindsey questions Serena, who also nods without a word and sits down. I look in her terrarium and laugh. It looks like the scene out of lady and the tramp-a warm fire, cushy armchair and large, plush rug. In the armchair sits a small Scottie, almost black in color, sleeping and looking ridiculously adorable. “Jag for you?” Penny mirrors us, tapping on her glass. Inside hers, it looks like a rainforest-miniature trees with vines connecting them. On one of the larger branches sits a dark colored jaguar, pawing mindlessly at a flower on the vine below. I look back at mine in time to see that out from one side of the pile comes a small animal, no bigger than my palm. Its fur almost matches the sand, looking soft and fluffy. Its ears, which are almost bigger than its head, stick out, as if it’s hearing something. The Fennec Fox. The smallest breed known to man. Or so Wikipedia had said. After my first lesson with Lupin, Penny, Serena and I had pulled out my laptop and searched the characteristics of my animal, mostly to prove Penny’s original idea of it being a fox. She was right. And two days later, she managed to pull a black Jaguar out of her wand. Serena’s came yesterday.

“We found them at the Menagerie in Diagon-Tonks said you’d been looking at them when you got your wand.” Mom is correct. I had been looking at the adorable miniature animals in the window as we walked back to the Leaky Cauldron to leave.

“Am I interrupting anything?” We all turn towards the voice to see Dumbledore standing against the door frame, smiling at all of us.

“Of course not, Albus!” My mother stands up, and pulls the last coffee out of the holder, handing it to him. “We didn’t think you’d be here till eleven!”

“There was a slight change of plans…Can I speak to Elle for a moment, please?” I stand up, picking the cage up with me and looking back at Serena and Penny, who are both looking at me with raised eyebrows. I shrug my shoulders, and follow Dumbledore back to the office where I’d last met him. “This won’t take more then a few minutes,” he says as he shuts the door. He gestures for me to sit down where I had last time, and I set the glass cage on the table. Without saying anything, Dumbledore pulls it towards him and opens a small latch on one side. The top half of the wall opens out, and he reaches in and picks up the ball of fluff that sits quivering in the corner. “Hold out your hand,” he says. I hold my hands up, and he carefully places it in them. Its fur is as soft as it looks, and I sit back in my seat and cradle it to my chest. “What’re you going to name it?” I’m silent for a moment, thinking.

“Well it’s a girl….” He smiles. “So…I don’t know….I’ve always liked the name Roxy.” Clearly, I spend too much time listening to Broadway soundtracks.

“Then Roxy it is.” We both laugh quietly, and he leans forward a little bit. “Elle, this isn’t very important, but I felt you needed to know before Monday-it might be a little surprising.”

“What will be?”

“As you know,” he begins, crossing his hands, “at Hogwarts, we sort our students into the houses based on their personalities-whatever the hat thinks you best fit into. You understand this, correct?” I nod. “There are certain cases, Elle, where we at Hogwarts intervene with the sorting of a student. This may be for their own good, or for the greater good of the houses involved.”

“And I’m one of these cases?” I ask.

“Yes, you are.” He sits back in his chair, looking at me over his glasses. “Ms. Fawley, in the last couple of weeks it’s become apparent to not only myself, but other members of the Order, just how special you and your friends are. The three of you have mastered spells in three months that most wizards and witches take years to learn. You managed to do one of the hardest in a day. This makes you in particular very special. You’re in our world for a reason, Elle, and that reason is to help Mr. Potter and his friends in their quest against the Dark Lord. And you can’t very well do that if you’re never near them.” I sit up, holding Roxy in my lap.

“Hold up, let me see if I understand what you’re trying to say.” I take a breath. “You’re saying that, because I’m special, you’re going to make sure I’m sorted into Harry’s house to be close to him, Hermione and Ron? You’re going to force me to be a Gryffindor?” I spit out the last word like acid. I’ve always figured myself as a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, never as one of the more…competitive houses.

“Elle, being a Gryffindor is nothing to be upset about.”

“It is when I have no say in the matter!” I breathe out, trying to calm myself down. I make an attempt not to freak out, but so far it’s not working. “Why would you do this?”

“For exactly the reason I told you. You can’t be of help if you’re never near those most in need of it. This way, you can keep an eye on things, and make sure things go the way their supposed to.” He smiles. “Besides, I hear Gryffindor’s going for it’s 5th house cup in a row. It might be fun to try and help out with that.” I roll my eyes, trying to think of any other possible way this might be a good thing.

The next day, everyone else's letters arrive. Ron and Hermione are made prefects, and Mrs. Weasley rushes out of the house to go get Ron a new broom. The three of us start packing our things, and I avoid telling them what Dumbledore told me. At the start of all this, we swore to be honest. Now, I feel like I have to keep something from them. They don’t need to know about this. I don’t want them to think they’re less special than me. Right now, one of us is just as important as the other. And until Dumbledore or anyone else can prove otherwise, I’m nothing more than one of three girls who knows way too much. I’m going into a school where I know of everyone, but don’t know anyone. I’ve got eight friends total that go there, three of whom are family members. And I’m entering said school on a rigged sorting system that I’m pretty damn sure is going to mess with my year from the start. My parents have expressed their worries for the first time today about me being away from them after only just having received my powers.

What other sort of shenanigans can I get into?