The Legend of Chime

Chapter sixteen: The Ring of Oenone

“Well, Elizabeth. I must say. You have completely recovered from the healing with no adverse side effects. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you’re probably in better health than I am,” Healer Smethwyck said with a small laugh as he put his wand back into his pocket. “Your husband and Lady Isabella will definitely be pleased to hear my report.”

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of buttoning her robes and jerked her head up to look at Smethwyck. “I’m sorry, but did you just say my husband? I-I’m not married,” she said with a frown.

The healer looked somewhat taken back. “I apologise. I was lead to believe you were.”

Elizabeth gave him a strange look and lifted one eyebrow. “By whom?”

“Why, you and Master Malfoy, of course,” said Smethwyck.

“And how did I do that? By healing him, I suppose?” Elizabeth asked incredulously, rolling her eyes.

Smethwyck straightened himself up to his full height. “It’s not uncommon for a young woman such as yourself to already be married. And Master Malfoy was quite attentive to your needs while you were unconscious so I just assumed logically that you were married and Master Malfoy failed to correct my assumption, I might add.”

Elizabeth continued to frown at his explanation, not liking the sound of Malfoy tending to her unaware. “So you’re telling me that Master Malfoy . . .” she shook her head, “What are you telling me exactly?”

With a gentle smile, Smethwyck leaned over and patted her hand. “Don’t be alarmed, Elizabeth. But I believe you have left quite an impression on Master Malfoy. A Chime healing will do that to a person. I just misunderstood the reaction Master Malfoy had to you and he must have not heard me refer to you as his wife. Easy mistake, I assure you. No harm done.”

“Oh. Is that all?” Elizabeth took a deep breath and finished buttoning her robes, feeling slightly relieved though she really wished people would stop pairing her and Malfoy. It was starting to make her feel uneasy. “Master Malfoy and I are cousins, Healer Smethwyck. Nothing more.”

“Yes. Well,” Smethwyck gifted her with a half-bow. “If you will excuse me, Elizabeth. I have an appointment with a rather large turkey. I bid you a good day and a Merry Christmas,” he said.

“A Merry Christmas to you as well,” Elizabeth muttered to his retreating back as he left her room with a slight wave. She walked over to the mirror and made certain her robes were in their proper place then pushed a stray lock of hair back out of her face. Satisfied, she strode to the window and looked out. A brilliant smile crept across her face. She didn’t care that the clouds were heavy in the sky and the sun would probably fail to pierce the ever-present gloom. It was Christmas and she was free to leave her bedroom. She turned on her heel and strode out the door and down the hall, singing “Have Yourself a Merry little Christmas” under her breath. She quickly headed down the stairs hoping to find the kitchens and catch Olivia before she brought up another tray to her room. Today, she would be having breakfast in the main dinning room with everyone else.

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Harry was in a very strange mood as he sorted through the stack of presents at the foot of his bed; it was a mixture of happiness and bitterness. Elizabeth had left him with a smile on his face this morning, but also with a rather uncomfortable response to her rather tantalizing use of words and memories that he still hadn’t quite gotten over. Damn her! She was way too good at that! He ripped the paper off the first present with a bit too much relish and tore the box that held his hand-knitted green jumper from Mrs. Weasley. Unperturbed, he picked up the next one. It was another book from Hermione. He barely glanced at it before tossing it over his shoulder and moving on to the next present. He smiled when he found a bottle of Ache-be-Gone Potion and a marvelous book entitled Invisible Presence: An Auror’s view of Stealth techniques, which Lupin and Tonks had given him. Hagrid had sent a parcel of rock cakes. Ron had given him a big box of chocolate frogs and Dobby had sent another dreadful painting of what looked like . . . he turned the painting right-side up then squinted at it and tried to decipher the two large blobs as he heard Ron start to stir.

“Dobby sent you another painting?” Ron said sleepily over his shoulder. “Blimey! He really should give that up. I see his black-eyed gibbon is back. At least, we know that’s you. So who’s the red firecrab? Oh!” Ron snorted. “Elizabeth. Bet she’d get a kick out of seeing that.”

“Yeah. I bet she would. I should send it to her after what she pulled this morning,” Harry mumbled, throwing the painting aside and picking up Lupin’s gift. “Oh, by the way, thanks for the chocolate frogs,” he said as he thumbed through the book, noting the superb depictions of the different stealth techniques in colorful, moving illustrations.

“No problem. Thanks for whatever you got me.” Ron accidently kicked Harry’s gift from Hermione as he reached for his own presents. He looked down and picked it up with a frown. “That must have been some row you had with Elizabeth this morning. I didn’t think you would let this out of your sight once you opened it. Hermione worked hard on this, you know. The least you could do is keep it off the floor, mate.”

“Huh?” Harry glanced up with a confused look on his face and took the book from Ron. He was shocked to see that the book wasn’t a book at all, but a leather-covered photograph album similar to the one Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year. Harry opened it and stared at the first page. It was the black-and-white photograph of Elizabeth after her sorting from Colin’s newspaper.

“Don’t tell me. You didn’t open it?” Ron asked incredulously. “I wouldn’t mention that to Hermione if I was you.”

Harry slowly turned the page and found the photograph of him and Elizabeth at breakfast. He turned the next one and saw a photograph he’d never seen before. It was a picture of him and Elizabeth dancing in the common room on her sixteenth birthday. He watched as his image ran his hand lovingly up and down Elizabeth’s back while her head rested on his shoulder. He casually flipped through the rest of the book, noticing there were at least a dozen more photographs of them together.

“Yeah. That’s how I thought you would act. Once you looked at it properly. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

 Harry heard Ron’s question, but was too enamored with the album to respond with more than a nod. His eyes fell on the last photograph and he smiled. It was clearly taken at a distance. Him and Elizabeth wrestling in the snow. The photograph was emitting Elizabeth’s squeals of ‘Uncle’ and her infectious laughter and Harry found himself laughing along with it. He turned the page and noticed there were several pages left blank.

“Hey, look! Elizabeth got me a broom servicing kit . . . cool . . . and Hermione got me a watch like the one Elizabeth got you. Except the wristband is brown. Very nice!” said Ron, grinning and admiring the watch.

Harry glanced up at Ron. “Look on the back before you put it on. It might be engraved,” he said smiling.

Ron turned the watch over in his hand. “Yeah, it is.” He silently read the inscription and his ears turned red. “I should apologise again for last night. I was totally out of line, mate.”

“Something tells me, Hermione will forgive you. That necklace you got her is really nice,” said Harry, gazing down at the album one last time before shutting it. “Hermione did really well this year in the gift department. We should probably get dressed and head down to breakfast and thank everyone.” He could hear various faint voices downstairs calling “Merry Christmas” to one another.

Ron slipped his watch on his wrist then they both proceeded to change into their new jumpers and not-so-new jeans. Harry grabbed his photo album and stuck it in his pocket before they strode out the door and headed downstairs to the kitchen. When they entered, Harry discovered to his surprise everyone in the Weasley family was present, including Percy, whom he hadn’t seen for over a year. He noticed how Percy avoided his eye when everyone else wished him and Ron a “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, boys,” Mrs. Weasley piped as she placed an enormous platter of Fry-up on the table. “It’s about time you two showed up. I was just about to send Fred and George up after you. Well, go on, have a seat. It’s wonderful to have the whole family together again.”

Ron took a seat next to Hermione and ignored the kissing sounds Fred and George were making across from them. Harry spotted Hermione’s hand being tucked tenderly into Ron’s under the table as he sat down next to Lupin and he couldn’t suppress the slight feeling of envy that ran through him. His eyes fell on Ginny as he settled himself in the chair. She was watching Hermione and Ron’s interaction with a smile and elbowing Fred sharply in the ribs at the same time. “That’s enough. Fred. George,” said Mr. Weasley, trying to manage a stern expression while the corners of his mouth twitched. He exchanged a knowing expression with Mrs. Weasley.

“Now you know why I have never brought a lady friend home for the holidays, Ron. You’re a better man than I,” said Bill with a grin.

“Harry. You’ve dropped something,” said Lupin turning slightly in his chair. “Don’t worry I’ll get it for you. There you go. That’s a nice photograph album. Christmas present?”

“Er-yeah,” Harry mumbled, trying to stick it under his leg, and glancing nervously at Fred and George, wishing he hadn’t brought it down. “Thanks for the book and potion, Professor. Tonks.” He turned and leaned over to Hermione. “The album’s great,” he whispered.

Unfortunately, Hermione glanced his way and whispered, “I’m glad you like it. Elizabeth’s really photogenic, isn’t she? I sent her one as well.” Fred’s supersonic hearing picked up the name Elizabeth and he started grinning like he’d been hit with a very strong Cheering charm.

“So you’ve got a picture of this mysterious lady friend that Mum keeps talking about,” said Fred with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Fred!” scolded Mrs. Weasley with a guilty flush to her cheeks.

“Come on. Let’s see her then,” said George.

Harry shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I don’t think so.”

“Aww, Come on! We’re all curious!” said Fred loudly.

“That’s enough, Fred! Leave Harry alone. He has a right to his privacy,” said Mr. Weasley. “Now let’s eat while the food is still hot.”

Everyone was quiet while the food was dished out, except for the clink of plates and cutlery. Then gradually conversation started to emerge again between bites of food. Harry could hear bits of Hermione and Ron’s whispered conversation so he searched for something to occupy his mind, trying desperately not to eavesdrop. Harry suddenly turned to Percy and asked, “How are things at the ministry?”

Percy tried to hide his surprise at Harry’s unexpected question by taking a drink of this pumpkin juice then hesitantly said, “Things have been difficult as they have been everywhere. Numerous things that have been done in the past just aren’t working now and the ministry is struggling to find new legislation while also fighting against you-know-who which is very difficult indeed. But I’m glad to report the inquiry into the attack on Hogwarts is coming to a close. The culprits used an ancient form of magic to penetrate Hogwarts defenses. It was used in the raid on the ministry this past summer as well. But of course, I can’t go into detail. Very hush-hush and all that. But I can say that the ministry is now giving full control of Hogwarts to Professor Dumbledore, seeing as half the school governors are known Death Eaters or have gone missing. And I must say he now has everyone’s full support. I expect Hogwarts to be reopened in another month or so.” A red flush had now taken over Percy’s cheeks as he finished.

“But we’re going to be so far behind in our other lessons!” complained Hermione. “We’ll never be ready in time for N.E.W.T.s.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Hermione,” said Ginny rolling her eyes. “I’m the one who has O.W.L.s this year, remember?”

Harry’s face blanched. “But another month or so?”

Charlie looked up, swallowing his mouthful of sausages, and said, “That’s actually rather fast, Harry.”

“I should say it is,” Mrs. Weasley said disapprovingly. “Especially with so many students being hit by stunning spells. I doubt all the students will be returning to school when Hogwarts is reopened. Parents are too frightened now. And I for one can’t blame them. Those imbeciles at the ministry have waited . . . ”

“Another sausage, Molly dear?” Mr. Weasley interrupted, placing his hand on top of Mrs. Weasley’s.

An awkward silence filled the room as everyone subtly glanced between Percy and Mrs. Weasley. After a moment, Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat and said in an unusually bright voice, “No. But thank you for asking, Arthur. Would anyone like some more pumpkin juice?” She jumped up from her seat and grabbed the flagon of pumpkin juice and started refilling everyone’s glass.

“Well, I think it’s great news that Professor Dumbledore is finally getting the respect and control that he deserves. It’s a shame that it’s taken such a horrific event for it to come about. But Hogwarts will be the safest place on earth now. I’m sure it won’t take long for people to understand that,” said Tonks firmly, handing her glass to Mrs. Weasley. “Thank you, Molly.”

“I’m not so certain of that, Nymphadora,” said Lupin quietly. “People can be very unforgiving and narrow-minded at times.”

Harry silently agreed as he finished his breakfast. He laid down his fork then absently fingered the photo album that was still resting under his leg as the conversation continued. He glanced around subtly before pulling the album out from under his leg. He slid it silently into his lap and opened it. Elizabeth’s image smiled up at him and waved and Harry couldn’t suppress his grin. He knew he was acting like a lovesick fool, but he didn’t care. Another bloody month! Damn!

“What the . . .”

Suddenly, the album flew out of his lap and into George’s outstretched hand and he caught it with a loud “Ha!” as he pocketed his wand.

“Nice one!” said Fred appreciatively.

“Thank you, Fred. Now let’s see why Harry’s so determined to keep Ms. Fairchild to himself,” said George flipping open the album.

“Very funny. Now give it back,” said Harry lightly in a voice that belied his nervousness.

“In just a minute, Harry. We won’t damage it. We promise,” said Fred looking over George’s shoulder. “My. That’s quite a bird you’ve caught there. I’m impressed,” he added looking down at Elizabeth’s picture.

“She’s a bit of all right . . . and . . . whoa! Looks like she fancies you enough,” said George, turning the page and grinning.

“Fred! George! Give that back to Harry right now!” protested Mrs. Weasley, snatching the album out of George’s hands. The rest of the table attempted to keep a straight face.

“Take it easy, Mum. We were just having a bit of fun. Besides, Harry has nothing to be ashamed of. Look at her!” said Fred.

“That still gives you no cause to pinch it right out of his hands,” Mrs. Weasley said disapprovingly, though Harry did notice she took the time to glance at Elizabeth’s picture before handing it back to him. “She is quite lovely, dear.”

“Er-thanks,” said Harry, feeling his face burn with embarrassment.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you, mate,” said Ron with a laugh.

“Yeah. You should have left it in your room, Harry. Though I don’t know what the fuss is about,” said Ginny honestly. “She’s pretty. You should want to show her off.”

Harry shrugged. “I guess it’s no big deal really.”

“Well, since you’ve said that. Do you mind if I have a gander?” said Bill, smiling.

Harry hesitated for a moment then flipped the album open and handed it to Bill. Charlie leaned in and looked over his shoulder then they both exchanged looks. “I agree with Fred. She’s quite enchanting, Harry,” said Bill appreciatively then his brow furrowed. “I think I’ve seen her picture before somewhere . . . though I have no idea where that could have been,” he said, handing the album back to Harry. “I understand she’s a Chime.”

Harry nodded as he took the album back.

Ron suddenly piped up, “You should have seen how quickly she healed herself when those Holilocks got her. It was amazing! Well, looking back on it now it is anyway. Actually, at the time it was quite horrible. But she pulled through all right in the end. Did you hear about it? We were in Care of . . . ”

Harry tuned out the rest of Ron’s words as he didn’t particularly care for the subject of Elizabeth’s amazing ability to heal herself. The Holilock incident had scared him to death and he definitely didn’t want to relive it. He noticed he wasn’t the only person not paying attention to Ron as his eyes fell on Bill. His brow was still furrowed and he seemed to be deep in thought. He heard him muttering under his breath, “Fairchild . . . The ring of Oenone . . . Elizabeth . . . Chime . . . The legend of Chime . . .” His face suddenly brightened as if he had just solved a very difficult riddle. He pushed himself away from the table and stood. “I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” he said quickly, conjuring his cloak with a wave of his wand.

“W-What? But it’s Christmas. Can’t it wait until tomorrow!” stuttered Mrs. Weasley.

“No. It can’t. I’m sorry, Mum. I’ll try to be back for Christmas dinner.” He leaned down and kissed Mrs. Weasley’s cheek and disappeared out the kitchen door.

“Sorry, Molly. It was an excellent breakfast, but I believe I’ll accompany Bill if you don’t mind,” said Lupin hurriedly, pushing up from the table and following him out the door.

“Me too, Molly. Thanks for breakfast,” said Tonks.

Mrs. Weasley glanced around the table blankly then emitted a loud huff as her eyes came to rest on Mr. Weasley. “I suppose you and Charlie will be running out the door next,” she said with a note of impatience that didn’t quite reach her face. “Oh! Go on. I know the world doesn’t stop just because it’s a holiday.”

Mr. Weasley smiled as he conjured his cloak and hat then leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “We won’t be long, dear. I’ll promise to fill you in when I’ve found out what exactly is going on.” A second later, Charlie did the same.

“But do try and be back before dinner!” Mrs. Weasley called to their retreating backs as they dashed through the kitchen door.

“Blimey! Was it something I said?” asked Ron, dumbfounded, glancing at the rest of the table.

“I don’t think so, Ron,” said Hermione quietly staring at the album.

Harry looked down at Elizabeth’s picture and silently agreed.

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By the end of breakfast, Elizabeth was starting to wish she hadn’t left her room. Her grandmother silently scrutinised everything she did and she found it very distracting. So far she had accidently dropped butter in her orange juice, spilled clotted cream onto the tablecloth and attempted to eat her grapefruit with a fork. She had never in her life been so clumsy and she could tell her grandmother was starting to think this was a common occurrence. Eating was no longer enjoyable for her. It was test to see if she was worthy of the Fairchild name and she was failing miserably. What made it even worse was that Malfoy was finding it all quite amusing. Damn him and his stupid smirk! Elizabeth resisted the urge to fling a spoonful of eggs at him. Grandmother definitely wouldn’t like that. She stifled a giggle at the mental image of eggs dripping down Malfoy’s face. Her grandmother raised an eyebrow to the small sniff she emitted and Elizabeth forced a demure look on her face then she decided to play it safe and just take a drink of her milk. Her stomach loudly disagreed with the lack of food, but she ignored it and pretended to be interested in the present conversation between her grandmother and Narcissa regarding the upcoming dinner party. After a few minutes of nodding appropriately, her eyes began to subtly wander the room.

In her absence, the room had been dressed for the Christmas Holiday. The blue and silver decorations went well with room’s already blue decor. Grandmother certainly does like blue. Candles lined the elegant mantlepiece amidst sprigs of evergreen above the fireplace and the table had a beautiful centerpiece of white poinsettias. Her eyes fell upon the tapestry that hung in the middle of the room bearing the Fairchild coat of arms. She titled her head thoughtfully and wondered why the lion and snake were bowing to the unicorn. It seemed rather odd to her.

“Elizabeth?”

She swung her eyes back to the table and noticed her grandmother and Narcissa looking at her expectantly. Her stomach lurched. She clearly had been asked a question. She frantically searched her mind, trying to recall the last words she had heard uttered, but floundered. She glanced at Malfoy hoping he might help her out, but he seemed quite intent on stirring his tea with a wide grin on his face. If the table hadn’t been so wide, she might have attempted to kick him. She finally shook her head in defeat.

“I apologise, Grandmother. The beautiful tapestry caught my eye for a moment. Do you mind repeating the question?” Elizabeth asked resignedly.

“Dancing, Elizabeth. There will be ballroom dancing after the dinner. Do you know how to waltz?” asked her grandmother coldly, clearly annoyed.

“I’m sorry to say I don’t, Grandmother,” Elizabeth admitted reluctantly.

Narcissa gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t apologise, Elizabeth. It’s easy enough to learn. In fact, Draco is quite good at it. Aren’t you, dear? I’m certain he wouldn’t mind teaching you.”

Her Grandmother and Narcissa turned to Malfoy and Elizabeth stifled an urge to yell “Ha!” as it was clear he hadn’t been listening either. Unfortunately, he covered quite well.

“I would be honored to assist in any way,” Malfoy said smoothly, glancing at Elizabeth with another smirk.

“Excellent. It’s settled then. Elizabeth, after dinner tonight you and Draco can use the gallery upstairs to practice. I want you to have mastered the dance by the date of the dinner party. Is that understood?” her Grandmother said curtly.

Elizabeth had no choice but to grudgingly nod her acceptance. Narcissa flashed her a brilliant smile and Elizabeth fought the childish urge to stick out her tongue.

“Now, then. What was it about the tapestry that caught your eye, my child?” her grandmother asked in a bored voice.

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. “Well . . . I was just wondering why a lion and snake would be bowing to the unicorn?” she asked.

Her grandmother seemed strangely pleased by the question. “The lion represents Gryffindor House as you well know and the serpent represents Slytherin House. The unicorn is the House of Fairchild. All of our family has come from either Gryffindor or Slytherin starting with your great-great-great-grandfather and grandmother. The lion and the serpent bow to the will of the unicorn. The family always comes first. In other words, what is good for the family is good for the individual.”

“And vice versa,” Elizabeth added.

Her grandmother lifted an eyebrow. “Not necessarily, my child.”

Elizabeth frowned. She had a disturbing feeling her grandmother was hinting at something. “It seems a strange combination. Gryffindor and Slytherin. They are on opposite ends of the spectrum, after all, and natural rivals,” said Elizabeth calmly.

Her grandmother gave a cold smile and it sent a shiver up Elizabeth’s spine. “But opposites tend to compliment each other very well, Elizabeth. What one lacks, the other supplies. That is why our house has been so successful.”

Opposites also tend to kill each other, Elizabeth thought, but decided to keep her opinion to herself. She picked up her glass and took another drink. Our house hasn’t been that successful if I’m the only product for the last sixteen years. A bit lacking in the love department if you ask me.

“Now that our brief family history lesson is over, Elizabeth. It is time for us to retire to the drawing room. Narcissa. Draco. Please join us,” her grandmother said as she pushed herself up with her cane and a house-elf assisted with her chair.

Elizabeth wiped her mouth with her napkin one last time before pushing herself up from the table and following her grandmother and the others out of the dinning room.

I bet now we’re going to sing Christmas Carols around the fire, Elizabeth thought sarcastically.

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“You’re sure you heard him say The Ring of Oenone?” Hermione asked Harry once they were back upstairs in his and Ron’s bedroom.

“Positive,” said Harry as he sat down on his bed and put the album on his bedside table. “He said The Ring of Oenone then Elizabeth then Chime and then he said he had to see Dumbledore.”

“What’s the Ring of Oenone?” asked Ron turning to Hermione as he flopped down on his bed.

Hermione sat down next to him. “Well, I remember reading about it in Legends of the Magical World. I checked it out after Elizabeth told us what she was . . . and if I remember correctly . . . The Ring of Oenone is the ring Oenone bestowed to her son, Korythos, right before she killed herself. Oenone was a beautiful water nymph and daughter to the river-god Kebren. She possessed the gifts of divination and healing and she fell in love with a mortal named Paris and bore him a son. But Paris deserted Oenone to travel to Troy. When he returned to her after being wounded, she refused to heal him and he reluctantly returned to Troy, where he soon died. But Oenone changed her mind and chased after him but found she was too late to save him. She took the ring that Paris had given her and poured her powers into it and gave it to her son. Then killed herself.”

“Lovely story,” Ron said sarcastically.

“Wait a minute. Gifts of Divination and healing. That sounds like the powers of Chime,” said Harry suddenly.

“Well, actually, Harry. Elizabeth can’t predict the future,” Hermione gently corrected. “She can only find what is lost to her. Things she has seen before. But the healing part is the same.”

“So what does The Ring of Aeonian have to do with Elizabeth? She only has the ring that Harry gave to her,” asked Ron, clearly confused.

Hermione shook her head slowly and stared into space. “I don’t know,” she said softly.

Harry remained silent for several long minutes as he thought back to what Elizabeth had told him about the Legend of Chime. A Veela-fairy prince fell in love with a witch . . . A water nymph fell in love with a man . . . How are they connected?

“Hermione, What exactly are Veela-fairies?” Harry asked thoughtfully.

“Well, they are what the name implies. Part Veela. Part Naiade, a type of fairy . . . that lives in or close to . . .” Hermione quietly trailed off, seemingly deep in thought.

“In or close to what?” asked Harry impatiently, waving his hand in front of her face.

Hermione mentally shook herself then looked back at Harry. “The water. That’s why they are said to have settled on the Isle of Man.”

“So a Naiade is a water nymph,” said Ron and Hermione nodded her head.

“That’s it! The two legends are related through The Ring of Oenone,” Harry said excitedly. “The Veela-fairy prince probably used the ring to give the first Chime her powers!”

“Yes, that’s possible, but it still doesn’t explain why the ring is important to Elizabeth now,” said Hermione quietly. “We just don’t have enough information about Chime to draw a thorough conclusion.”

Now Harry understood why Bill needed to see Dumbledore. If anyone knows anything about Chime, it would be the son of one.

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A soft smile illuminated Elizabeth’s face as she lounged across her bed late in the afternoon, slowly flipping through the book that lay in front her. The morning hadn’t been a complete wash. (Though they definitely hadn’t sung Christmas Carols around the fire.) Her grandmother had given her several Christmas presents. All of which were heirloom jewelry which probably cost a small fortune. The thought of ever having to wear them made her extremely nervous, but she had thanked her grandmother just the same. The other presents that she had received were much more her style: A box of Chocolate frogs from Ron, The Black Family book of Ancestry from Remus, a box of rock cakes from Hagrid, and the photograph album she was currently looking at from Hermione.

She let out a deep sigh, shut the book, rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She absolutely loved the album. Most of the pictures, she had never seen before and they made her smile remembering. But they also evoked feelings of longing that made her miss Harry even more than she already did.

Her stomach suddenly rumbled, bringing her out of her lonely thoughts. She had skipped lunch, not wanting to endure a similarly painful experience as breakfast. But she also knew she had to eat sometime and it would look rather odd if she insisted on taking her meals in her room again. She tilted her head up and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. An envelope with a note stuck to it lay propped up against the clock effectively blocking her view of the time. She rolled back over, crawled to the edge of the bed, and picked it up. Olivia’s neat scrawl was written on the note:

Mistress Fairchild, Please forgive me. I found this envelope in the pocket

of your school robes the day after your arrival and I neglected to return

 it to you when you awoke.

Elizabeth realised the envelope was the one given to her by Tonks right before she stepped into the carriage. She remembered Tonks had said Dumbledore had wanted her to have it. She eyed it curiously for a moment then slid her fingernail underneath the flap and tore it open the seal. The letter inside read:

                        If ever you feel in danger, utter the words

                                   Dissilio Veneficium

                             I will hear you and I will come.

“Well, that’s rather cryptic,” said Elizabeth turning the note over to see if anything was written on the back. She shrugged and pulled open her drawer and started to place the note inside, but almost immediately the note curled up at the ends and turned to ash in her hands as if someone had set fire to it. “Nifty trick,” she said, wiping her hands together to get rid of the residue. She walked to the loo and washed her hands then headed down to the kitchen for a small snack before dinner.

 Elizabeth heard her grandmother’s muffled voice as she came to the grand staircase. She was obviously with one of her business associates. Strange, Elizabeth thought as she continued down the stairs, you would think that whoever it was could wait until after the holidays to conclude their business. The drawing room door was slightly ajar and she crept toward it out of curiosity, intent on listening in on the conversation, making certain her heels didn’t click against the floor.

“ . . . is correct. My husband did acquire it, knowing that the possibility of another Chime being born into our family was quite likely. Especially since Voldemort was increasing in power at that time as well. He sent it to Rebecca, against my better judgement, after she wrote and told us of her plans to marry . . . him . . . When her body was returned to us for burial, it was not among her things. I assumed she lost it or it was stolen. It was a rather valuable piece,” her grandmother’s cold voice said.

“I am certain Rebecca would never lose something so precious to her daughter, Lady Isabella,” said a familiar voice that Elizabeth never expected to hear within the confines of Fairchild Manor.

She reached out and pushed open the door, not caring that she was intruding. They were talking about something that involved her and she wanted to know what it was. Before the door had time to swing far enough open to admit her, the voice spoke again.

“Good evening, Elizabeth, and Merry Christmas.”