Loonar

The Ministry had no chance but to declare Harry innocent of all charges. He’d be coming back to Hogwarts as normal and as far as we were aware he wouldn’t have any other punishment. Considering we had all held up a very confident stance that morning, by the time Harry and Arthur returned everyone was so tense that we had basically become statues.

That hadn’t lasted long and as soon as we had seen Harry’s smile half of the Weasleys had started a loud chant of ‘He got off!’ which despite Molly’s increasingly violent requests to end was still going strong.

Harry was sat next to me with a big grin on his face, it was echoed around the room.

“Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering you all knew I'd get off." He teased, watching as Arthur shouted again at his three children and twisted back to us. Sirius was standing awkwardly at my side as they spoke about Lucius. He was a death eater, no doubt, Harry had seen him with Voldemort in that graveyard so there was no defence. That was the logic of it anyway, but as Arthur had said, money so far had managed to get Lucius free of any blame.

“Well Dumbledore will sort it out,” Molly said softly, levitating a large plate of sandwiches towards us, “And I’ve already started dinner, what time will you be back from covering for Tonks, Arthur?”

He shrugged, leaning forward and kissing her lightly before saying his goodbyes as we began to eat. I caught Harry frown, clasping his hand to his forehead suddenly from the corner of my eye. Before I had a chance to say anything Hermione jumped in, but Harry shook her off easily.

“Scar.” He explained, I felt the skin around my mouth tighten. His scar hurting never meant anything good.

To say the last week of the holidays dragged would be way too nice a term. I was thinking of taking back my statement about life not being dull. Sure, plenty of people passed through the house, stopped for lunch or dinner but we were still given little to no information about what they spoke of and instead were trapped cleaning practically all day. There was always the chance for entertainment, mainly in the way of Fred, George and myself finding ways to avoid tasks or to levitate any particularly large spiders hiding in corners towards Ron.

Evenings were spent in a variety of ways; I was either with the twins to help them dream up and make some new concoction to sell, trying to entertain myself with Ginny whilst Hermione had her head shoved in a book or just wandering around. It was a house full of centuries of magic and plenty of mystery.

It was during an exceptionally dull Wednesday that Fred and I stumbled over something that I really wish we hadn't. We were in one of the many rooms that had been meant for socialising, old sofas thick with clouds of dust and Fred had found a particularly vicious look spider when I wasn’t looking.

“Fred leave him alone!" I scolded harshly, noticing what he was doing, hitting his hand away and causing Ron to let out a high pitched squeal as the spider flew through the air and landed on the front of his jumper.

“Oh no, oh Merlin, get it off Amelia, get it off, get it off!” I tried to, dragging my wand from its place in the side of my jeans but I was sinking too fast into hysterics at the growing red that flushed across his face. His voice grew higher and more desperate until Hermione stepped in, whisking away the offending arachnid. Ron was on the verge of a panic attack and left the room, struggling to tear his shirt over his head. The sight only made me laugh harder and I was clinging to the edge of an armchair to keep me upright.

“That was bloody brilliant,” Fred choked, his face bright red, alfame. I rubbed hard under my eyes, desperately trying to draw myself up to my full height and avoid descending back into laughter.

“Will you two stop messing around? Honestly Amelia you’re as bad as both of them.” Molly half moaned, pretending we hadn’t heard her sniggering just seconds ago. I dragged myself up slowly, trying to force a straight face which cracked whenever I looked at Fred.

Molly sighed heavily as her eyes scanned over the pair of us, “You two go find something else to do,” she rolled her eyes shaking her head, “And that does not involve waking that wretched portrait. See if Sirius needs help with anything.”

We stumbled from the room passed a pale Ron decked in a whole new outfit and again collapsed on the stairs, laughter erupting quickly and lasting for a long time, Ron’s face flashing behind my eyelids.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” I gasped between laughs, my chest and throat aching, and only stopping when I took a magnitude of deep shaky breaths.

“I am never letting him forget that,” he promised, standing and offering me a large warm hand, a grin still over his face as he pulled me up gently, flinging an arm around my shoulders. “So, you wanna go find Sirius?” I snorted at him and he grinned wider, “Well if Mum’s busy she’ll never know... we should go explore!”

“How old are you again?” I ask, head tilted, but wand already out. He pulled his arm off and we began up the stairs continuing past the first floor which held the three bedrooms us ‘children’ were inhabiting and up to the third floor, highest in the house and one we had almost explicitly been banned from. “Your Mum is going to be really mad if she catches us up here.”

“If being the operative word ‘Em.” I wrinkled my nose at the nickname but started moving around delicately. “Hey look!” I hissed, running my fingers across the plaque on one door. “Regulus.” The name rang familiar, it must have been Sirius’ brother. “You know you lot made out really well with names; so many pureblood families give their kids horrible ones.”

He grimaces, leaning over my shoulder and pushing the door, huffing when it didn’t move. He lifted his wand but I pushed it down so it faced the ground. “Not if it’s locked. There must be a reason Sirius did that...I wouldn’t feel right, you know?” He nodded, “I think this whole floor must have been their bedrooms; I mean we know where Buckbeak is was his parents and Sirius spends most of his time in his old room.”

He pops his lips, obviously not feeling as guilty as I do but agreeing and leading the way down to the second floor. “The first couple are for mum and that... and we need to avoid her...” He whispered, pointing to the small filthy curtain that covered the portrait of Mrs Black, Sirius' old and vile racist mother who liked screaming at any opportunity.

“That one!” He said, pointing to the room closest to her, the door swung open easily which made me feel less guilty about going in.

It looked like an old drawing room, a couple of grim armchairs faced an old fireplace, a large window, largest I had seen in the house let in still dim light, portraits clattered much of the wall but had been covered with rich fabric.

“Look at this,” Fred called, grabbing my arm gently and spinning me in his direction. It was a family tree, painted across the largest wall, a small portrait over every golden name. “Why are there so many burns?” Fred asked, running his finger over one, but I already knew the answer.

“They’ve been taken off, look,” I said, feeling my voice lower and pointing to a low burn next to the name Regulus, “This must be Sirius, anyone that didn’t fit in or was...”

“Not heartless was burnt off.” A voice made me start and I smiled sheepishly as Sirius stepped into the room, his voice bitter, and his eyes hard as he approached. Fred jumped quickly out of the way as we watched his finger trace the wall.

“See, Tonks' mother, Andromeda was burnt off, they never even put Tonks on, far too much of a blood traitor.” His finger went back up to the three sisters, glancing at me as it landed on one whose name seemed to glitter more than the rest. I frowned at the look in his eyes as he moved again, mumbling to Fred as I leant against the wall, my eyes firmly stuck on her name.

Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius’ cousin, a madwoman. A murderer.

The woman who destroyed my mother.

I was full of acid, throat burning as I made a poor excuse and left, briskly walking until I was in my room and could expel the few strangled breaths that had gripped me. I shouldn’t let just seeing her name have this effect on me, it was pathetic and I should be able to handle it. I know that and I hate that I can’t but it’s like a stab, a flare that ignites bones and sends flame pouring throughout my body. I won’t let myself cry, I recite that several times but it doesn’t stop the hot tears forming in my eyes, it doesn’t stop the ache in my throat growing until I’m fighting through sobs and all I can see if the glint of the knife that ended my mother’s life.

There’s a sharp rap at the door, although the voice is extraordinarily gentle. “Amelia?” I clear my throat hard, although my voice betrays me the minute I try to answer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine… Just caught myself on…”

“Amelia.” I move off the door and let her open it, although I swipe the back of my hand over my cheeks as if to hide the evidence. “Fred, go back to the other….” The conversation behind me is formed of harsh whispers before I hear Fred leave Hermione as she wished. I keep my back to her, going and sitting heavily on my bed, she follows suit and sits next to me, kicking away an odd sock. “I’ll keep Fred and that out.” She promises and I half smile.

“It doesn’t matter. Fred will get why I’m upset.” She nods but doesn’t push the issue further. “Sirius isn’t…”

“He’s fine from the looks of it. Cursing himself that…”

I shake my head, “My fault, we shouldn’t have gone snooping.”

“And something you found upset you?” Her play on innocent and naïve would be convincing if I didn’t know her so well. “Like you don’t already know.” I half snort, not meaning to sound as vindictive as the words come out. “Or at least got some sort of idea.” Her hand pats my shoulder by way of confirmation and I dab under my eyes again.

“I haven’t said anything to Harry or Ron…if what I even think is right.”

“When isn’t it?” Normally when I’m upset being alone is exactly what I crave but I’m glad Hermione is here. I hadn’t told anyone other than the twins and Katie. As far as anyone else was concerned my mother had died when I was ten of cancer, of some mystery ailment I never named. I take another shallow breath, “Go on then.” She’s hesitant at my insistent and I force a smile, “I’m okay, honestly. What do you know? Or rather, how did you guess?”

She launches into the story instantly. “Mad-Eye was saying the other day about why Bellatrix Lestrange had gone to Azkaban.” She pauses as if I’m going to stop her, but I keep silent. “I know it was torture, and I know she drove a few people,” she lowers her voice for the insulting word, “insane.” I glance at her from under my eyelashes, she looks uncomfortable, fiddling with the stitching on her shirt. “And I know the reason you’re so involved is because you had family in the order, because otherwise you wouldn’t be here, not for this long at least and well, when Mad-Eye was speaking it was to Sirius and Remus and although I wasn’t really supposed to be listening I heard Remus say your name and it just clicked. I mean, I know your mother was ill for a long time before she died and I know her name was Rachel and I’ve heard that name floating about a bit and…” She mumbled herself to an end eyes flickering to test my reaction. She shrugs, “I just figured.”

A few long seconds pass. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know,” I shift my body so I’m facing her. “I know you won’t. Thank you.” She nods, fast and almost manically as if that solves the issue. I’m not surprised she worked it out, not in the slightest and although the others knowing wouldn’t be an issue, they’d be as understanding about it as they could, I’m glad she’s sworn herself to secrecy. I find myself wanting to tell her more.

“I saw Bellatrix’s name on the family tree upstairs.” I have her full attention. “And it just…” All I can see is the blade in my mother’s hand again and I swallow, another fear striking me. “Mad-Eye, did they mention anyone else or…?”

“About Bellatrix?” I nod eagerly, relieved when she shakes her head. “Not that I picked up on, there was an Anne but I didn’t recognise anything.”

“Good.” She’s looking at me, questions still written all over her face but I ignore it. It isn’t my place to tell, and Neville wants to avoid the same pity and questions as I do.

Anne and Frank Longbottom were in the Order. They were also subjected to torture by Bellatrix. They were the same as my mother, but they’re still alive. There isn’t that dark edge to them I often feared whenever I visited her, there isn’t that lingering spark of Bellatrix or the spots of levity. Anne and Frank are lost to the world, still in Saint Mungoes; but Neville has them. I’ll always be envious of that. I’d known Neville through visits and bumping into him and his Grandmother as long as I could remember. But it was his story to tell, if he ever wanted too, it wasn’t my place.

Another couple of minutes passed. “Thanks Hermione. Shall we go back up?”

“Sure. Oh, wait, here.” She leant over to the worn chest of drawers between our beds and grabbed out, of all things, a small box of plasters. She opened a large one and stuck it hard on my arm. “Doxy bite.” She said simply; “No-one will ask anything.” Other than Fred, and George who no doubt had already heard about my mini-meltdown.

“Thanks.” I offered again, standing and moving to the dusty mirror to check over my face, my eyes were still a little red but with Hermione’s excuse, I’m sure I wouldn’t be pestered too much.

“Aright?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” I bit my lower lip, forcing a smile on my face as we trailed back into the room.

“Are you feeling alright now dear?” Molly, as ever, played her part perfectly and I assured her I was, saying the same to Harry and Ginny who also felt the need to check up on me. As soon as the attention shifted a tap on my wrist brought me to Fred who was tangling with what seemed to be a cursed curtain. “I shouldn’t have…”

I scoffed a little at him playfully, “You didn’t do anything.” I promised, “And I’m okay. Hermione was…” I saw a brow lift, “She already knew, of course she did.”

“She’s too smart for us lot.”

“Who?” Ron appeared at my other side, helping as we forced the curtain into a box, “Hermione.” Fred answered curtly, slamming the lid shut with a grin. “Tell me about it.” Ron grimaced, although with a strong hint of humour and I clicked my tongue, leaving the shaking box to his elder brother.

“Works out for your benefit though, doesn’t it? You’d have to do your own work otherwise!” He had the grace to look a little bashful.

Equipment letters didn’t arrive until the last day of term. We were actually beginning to get a little anxious, but surely we would have heard about any issue, any delay? Thankfully whatever issue there had been was resolved and bright and early, far too early, letters dropped by owls who somehow managed to wake Mrs Black once again.

“She's a worse alarm clock than the gnomes.” Ginny groaned, sitting up groggily and wiping her eyes. I mumbled in reply, glad when there was a whoosh and a bang and the portrait again fell silent. Ginny lay back down, the two of us just starting to drift off when, unsurprisingly, there was a loud crack and a tall body appeared.

“Go to hell George.” Was his sisters greeting and mine was little better, although it was my bed he decided to sprawl himself over. “Hogwarts letters.” He said simply, “And I’m guessing the both of you would like to go back?”

“Can’t you bring them up?” Ginny yawned, although I heard the creak of her bed.

“I am not your slave!” George exclaimed, and although I was hidden under my cover I could easily imagine the hand landing over his mouth, the over dramatic look of pure offence. It was just as easy to see Ginny rolling her eyes as I heard another creak which meant she was standing. The shuffle of slippers followed and heavy steps towards, and out of the door.

“She’s gunna be annoyed when she realises I did bring your letters up.” This raises a giggle from me and I emerge from my cocoon, fiddling with my hair to make it at least passable. Seconds later a loud yell of ‘”George!” Pierces the air and he vanishes instantly, back before I could finish taking my sip of water.

“M’lady.” He offers, handing me the letter.

“M’Lord.” I tear it open, scanning over the list of books.

“Ooh, I wonder who we’ll have for Defence against the Dark Arts?”

“We were just talking about it downstairs. Whoever it is is pretty brave considering what has happened to the last few.” I pull a face.

“Yeah, I just need The Standard book of spells, Grade Five That new Defence against the Dark Arts one and Alchemy, Art of the World.” I fight back a yawn, eyes darting further down the letter. “I might have to pick up some more potions equipment actually.”

“I can’t believe you scraped an Outstanding in that.” He grins, unlike Hermione his surprise isn’t at all insulting. “You know as well as I do that’s down to Aaron. I’m sure after a couple of weeks with Snape I’ll come to regret trying so hard.”

“More than likely. Right, come on then.” He starts tugging on my arms, ignoring my complaints, “Come on. Let’s go see what the others need to get. Mum says she’s gunna head to Diagon Alley today and pick up all the bits so I’m in charge of the list.” He almost puffed up at the responsibility.

“Fine.” I go slack, tensing as the hideous sensation of side-along apparition over took me and when I opened my eyes I was swaying close to Harry’s bed. “Dizzy.” I said simply, sitting down and making him shuffle over. “Anything nice?”

“Not much. Fred was just saying about the new…”

“Defence teacher? Yeah, George said as well, they must be brave whoever they are. I just hope they’re half good; You’re doing OWLS and you,” I dragged my finger through the air to the twins, “will be sitting NEWTS.”

“And you’ll be what? Floating about relaxing?” George retorted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Crying and trying to avoid Hermione probably.” I wink, and for a second they’re laughing before Ron’s face catches Fred’s eye. Before the prefect badge is even properly in Ron’s hand they’ve started. I want to interject, they’re taking it a little too far and Ron’s face is brightening just as Harry’s is growing darker.

“Well, at least one of you’s got their priorities right.”

“Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . .”

I pull a face, “Guys, leave him alone.”

It only gets more awkward as Hermione bursts in sees Harry now holding the badge and assumes what we all had. That Harry would be Gryffindor prefect. I was just glad I seemed to be hiding my surprise better than the others but by the time Molly bumbled in and had realised, I was aching with second-hand embarrassment at the mix of her overbearing pride and the twins being as annoying as physically possible.

“My book list is in the other room.” I found an excuse and I took it, crawling over Harry’s leg and around Molly, who looked like she was close to crushing her youngest son. I swatted at the twins, retching loudly and dramatically behind them.