On Whom the Pale Moon Gleams

On Whom the Pale Moon Gleams

Ch.2: I´m Afraid of Americans

She was an attractive witch, though dressed a little oddly. Actually, she and Bill looked like they roamed with the same crowd. Her short auburn hair stuck out from her head every-which-way, except for her bangs. They were long and curled away from her face before stopping just below her shoulder. She adorned her wrists with at least 40 bracelets. Four necklaces were strung about her neck. One had an elephant on it, and attached to the elephant was a tiny glass vial. In the vial, a single grain of rice floated around with "desolate" written on it.

Another necklace had a silver faery on it, whose wings flitted about incessantly. She had a very old white sleeveless shirt on that was torn in a few places. Her purple, back, and silver plaid pants were also torn. Her boots were made of dragon-hide. Bill had a pair just like them. She had a rather large trunk behind her, and perched in a cage on top---

"A phoenix!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, holding his arm out, welcoming her over the threshold. He nodded at the twins and they rushed to pick up her trunk. Ginny grabbed up the phoenix cage, gazing at it amazed. She smiled her thanks and George´s hold of the trunk nearly slipped. He blushed furiously as he steadied in his grip and followed her into the Burrow.

"It really isn´t much dear," Mrs. Weasley said. The witch glance around, heard the old family ghoul moaning and hitting pipes, and grinned broadly.

"I love it!" She looked at the Weasleys´ flaming red hair, happy faces, and her gaze flicked on Harry. It caught at his scar. She sighed and, looking quite downtrodden, her eyes began to fill with tears.

"What´s wrong?" George´s own eyes began to fill with concern as he rushed forward to check on her, completely forgetting about the trunk. His end clunked loudly to the ground and Fred cast him an angry look.

"I really d-don´t d-deserve to b-be he-re. I th-thought, w-well, w-with Harry P-Potter here and all, s-surely you w-wouldn´t t-take me," she sobbed. "I mean, w-with m-my family being s-so horrible...and I h-hate the M-Malfoys."

"What´s wrong with your family?" Ginny´s curiosity got the better of here. All of the Weasley children looked puzzled.

"They don´t know, do they?" She glanced questioningly at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They shook their heads. "Would you mind if I told them?"

"Ah, no, of course not dear," Mrs. Weasley said. The witch took a deep breath.

"Well, there´s no need to keep it a secret. I don´t want to get off on the wrong foot. So...hi. My name´s Ezmé Daxis. I´m Lord Voldemort´s niece."

"WHAT?" Ron´s bellowing voice echoed off the walls. He glanced quickly to Harry, taking a step towards him, protecting. Color was draining from everyone´s faces. Harry felt as if his heart had stopped.

"I´m...I´m his niece. When his father deserted him and his mother, it hurt him...I guess. She raised him alone, and he grew up and went off to Hogwarts, just like a normal wizard was supposed to do." Ezmé sighed. "After he graduated, he deserted her. She devoted her life to him, and he just left her. It took her a year to get over his loss, but she finally did. Then she met Patrick, a wizard with a daughter of his own that was only a kid. Five or six, I think. Anyway, she married him. Ramona, his daughter, is my mother. When Gramps found out about Tom, he looked for him right away. My mom said he talked about adopting him, giving him a good family. By this time, he´d stopped being Tom and started being Voldemort. It was too late. Grandma was horrified. She couldn´t believe what her son had turned into. So she, Gramps, and Mom fled to America." Ezmé found it hard to breathe. She focused on drawing air into her lungs and pushing it out again.

"So you´re not really related. By blood, I mean," Ginny said. She smiled tentatively at Ezmé. To Ezmé, it was a pinprick of light in a world filled with darkness. Her soul reached for it, grateful for any friendly action.

"My mom met my dad when she was 19. Grandma got really sick and died the day after the wedding. My mom always said that she stuck around long enough to make sure she wasn´t a failure as a parent."

"That´s so sad," Mrs. Weasley commented. A painful look filled her eyes as she quickly glanced at all her children. She´d done just fine.

"When I was almost ten, my mom passed away. When my gramps accused Dad of poisoning here, he got angry. Soon after, Gramps died too. I´ve lived with my dad since then, except for when I was at Mystiic."

"I came home this summer, and Dad told me we were moving to England. I was excited, and I asked and asked why we were going. I never found out...at least, not until he´d packed me on the plane. We were standing three feet apart, me almost to the plane and he in the terminal...He told me that he wasn´t coming after me when he got there." Tears were streaming down her face now, smearing a small brown freckle that had been painted on. "he was going to gat a makeover, change his name, and join Lord Voldemort. He said he had to get away from his old life and get some power. That meant getting away from me too. Dad had always taken care of me and he loved me. I know that. Power corrupts people."

"He said he´d already contacted Dumbledore and Fudge and that I would be taken care of when I got there. There would be someone waiting for me, and everything would be fine. Then, he turned around and left." She sobbed again. "I h-haven´t s-seen him s-since th-then." Her voice seemed to stop working. Mrs. Weasley put her arms around Ezmé, who sobbed into her shoulder.