Something About That Girl

Something about that girl (5)

It was the last weekend before the end of the school year. Many Gryffindors were outside enjoying the sun, so only a few sat in the Common Room. Elizabeth, Hermione and Neville were watching Ron thrashing Harry at wizarding chess.

"Blimey Harry, where's your head today?" Ron asked as his peasant smashed Harry's queen. Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron as Harry and Elizabeth looked at each other and blushed.

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The following Friday, Harry was sitting between Ron and Hermione in their very last class ever, Transfiguration. He was feeling a little melancholic. Looking back on his past years at Hogwarts and remembering all the things he had experienced, Harry felt heartbroken when he thought about the fact that he would have to say goodbye to Hogwarts soon. He was really going to miss this place, his first real home.

He was going to begin his Auror education the following autumn. The Auror training facilities where situated in the Ministry, Dumbledore had told him. Harry supposed he told him that to make Harry feel better, but he was still anxious about beginning this new life. True, Ron was going to be there, and a couple of others from his year too. Neville had, most surprisingly, managed to get in. He had made drastic improvements the past two years and Harry felt a little proud because he knew Neville never would have got in if it had not been for the DA. Harry was very happy for him.

Ron nudged Harry in the ribs. His last class ever at Hogwarts was over. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville broke out in loud cheers and hurried, celebrating, to the door, but Harry took a little time to pack his bag. Parvati and Lavender were sobbing loudly on Hermione's shoulders.

"W-We're never going to have classes here again!" Lavender sobbed miserably.

"There, there Lavender, I'm sure you'll survive," Hermione grimly said while patting her back. Harry could not help smiling. He walked up to Professor McGonagall.

"Professor?" She turned around with a slightly annoyed expression that turned into mild surprise.

"Is there a problem, Potter?" she asked.

"No, I just wanted to thank you Professor. I mean, not just for the lessons, but for everything," he concluded and winced as he noticed how melodramatic it sounded - but he remembered all the times she had helped him and felt he owed her thanks. McGonagall's expression softened and she smiled a rare smile.

"Thank you Potter. I wish you the best for the future," she said. "Now, I believe your friend Miss Granger would appreciate an excuse for leaving." Harry turned and saw Hermione still comforting Lavender. "You're right, Professor," he said, smiling. "Come on, Hermione. We'll, um, be late." She looked relieved as they left the room.

"Parvati and Lavender sure take leaving badly," Harry said.

"Yes," Hermione laughed, "but I must admit it's a peculiar feeling. I am going to miss this place."

"Me too," Harry sighed. They walked through the portrait hole into the Common Room.

"So have you found a dance partner for the ball yet?" Harry asked, trying to sound innocent. He had promised Ron he would find out. Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"No, I haven't. And unless he asks me personally, I'm not going with Ron either!" And with that she whirled around and climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

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"She said what?" Ron asked angrily.

"You have to ask her yourself, Ron," Harry replied, "or she won't go with you." The boys were sitting in their dormitory and Harry was polishing his Firebolt. Dean and Seamus snickered and Neville smiled boyishly. Ron's ears went slightly pink.

"All right," he said and straightened his back comically, "I'll go right up and ask her."

"That's great and all, Ron, but you can't just go to the girls' dormitory," Dean said.

"Then I'll wait till she comes down!" Ron spat. Seamus suddenly sat up.

"Hey, I just realised it's our seventh year and I've never seen the girls' dormitories!" he said.

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Look," Harry began, "when Ron and I tried - "

"Yeah, I know," Seamus said, sounding more excited by the second, "but we could use your Firebolt!" The other boys looked at him like he was insane.

"You want to just fly up?" Ron said, "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!"

"Think about it," Seamus eagerly said, "Hermione will think it's really romantic if we fly up so you can ask her out." Dean was giggling uncontrollably now.

"It's Hermione! She's head girl! She'll get him expelled!" Neville said, but Harry noticed that Ron did not seem reluctant now.

"You think she'd like that?" he said thoughtfully.

"Come on, we can't fit five people on one broom," Harry asked Seamus, feeling he had to protect his Firebolt.

"It's not impossible," Dean suddenly said, "if Harry and Ron fly up first we could use the Summoning Charm to summon the Firebolt back and follow!"

Harry found himself in the dark and quiet Common Room at midnight, holding his Firebolt and accompanied by Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus.

"All right," he whispered, "we'll go first. Wait one minute and then summon the Firebolt." The others nodded. Harry and Ron mounted the broom.

"Prince Valiant on his white horse," Dean whispered to the others, who burst out in a laughter they had to choke with their hands.

"I heard that!" Ron hissed furiously as Harry kicked off from the ground.

They flew up along the stairs and Ron had to duck his head not to hit it against the ceiling. It was a circular staircase, and after a few seconds Harry began to feel slightly dizzy, but he steered the Firebolt firmly ahead - he was, after all, the youngest Quidditch player in a century to play in a Hogwarts team.

The staircase ended at seven large doors. Harry kept the broom hovering steadily over the last step while Ron pushed the door that read "Seventh Years" open and they landed safely inside. Harry's stomach gave an excited jolt as he saw the four beds with the curtains drawn.

"We made it!" Ron whispered enthusiastically. Harry smiled, relieved. Suddenly his broom zoomed out of his hand and flew back downstairs. They waited a minute before Dean, Seamus and Neville appeared. Neville looked a little seasick. They hovered unsteadily towards the door and then, before Ron or Harry could prevent them, they jumped off the broom and landed on the first step. For a second they froze, realising what they had done. Nothing happened. Then the steps suddenly disappeared and the three boys tumbled, roaring, down the slide. The roars were then joined by terrified screams as the four Gryffindor girls jumped out of their beds. Harry and Ron backed up against the door with their hands up yelling, "It's just us!" as Hermione and Elizabeth pointed their wands at them and blinded them with light. Parvati and Lavender were screaming and holding on to each other, looking terrified.

When the girls realised who the intruders where, Hermione and Elizabeth lowered their wands and Parvati and Lavender sank down on their beds, both slightly panting.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?" Hermione said in a shrill, outraged voice.

"And who was making such a racket? You must have wakened the entire castle, idiots!" Parvati hissed.

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Well, um..." Harry said. He felt quite stupid and a little shy, considering all the girls were wearing nightgowns. He had a hard time taking his eyes off Elizabeth.

"Quiet!" Hermione suddenly said, and for a moment they all listened to find out if anybody else had awoken. The castle was quiet.

"You were lucky there," Parvati said. "So what are you really doing here?

Harry looked around at the girls. Parvati and Lavender looked curious, Hermione outraged and Elizabeth surprised. She was still clutching her wand tightly.

"Just a little fun," Harry said. Hermione put her hands on her hips and looked very much like Mrs. Weasley when she was angry.

"Fun? What were you thinking?" she hissed. "You could have been seen!"

"Relax Hermione - besides, it's only fair! I mean, you can come into our dormitories but we've never seen yours! And we've known you for seven years now!" Ron said.

The other girls looked at each other, realising he had a point.

"So you're not going to expel us then?" Harry said with a wry smile. He wanted to seem cool in front of Elizabeth. Hermione shook her head.

"So, um, could I talk to you privately?" Ron said, to Hermione. His ears had gone a deep shade of red. Hermione looked mildly surprised. Lavender whispered something to Parvati and they broke out in giggles.

"All right," Hermione said, sounding a little taken aback. She led him into a room Harry assumed was the bathroom, leaving the others in a slightly awkward silence.

"So who was screaming anyway?" Lavender asked. Harry tore his eyes away from Elizabeth.

"Dean, Seamus and Neville. They landed on the top stair," he said. Parvati, Lavender and Elizabeth broke into peals of laughter.

"Let's go see if they're all right!" Parvati said and dragged Lavender with her to the door.

"Yeah, I hope my date for tomorrow hasn't broken his legs!" Lavender said and winked conspiratorially to Harry before disappearing with her friend down the stairs.

Harry swallowed.

Elizabeth was putting on her dressing gown.

"So," she said, "I suppose you have some questions for me."

"Questions?" he asked lamely.

"I don't suppose you agreed to come up here just to help Ron," she said, smiling.

Harry sighed. She had a point. He had not agreed to visit the girls' dormitories just for Ron's sake. "She knows everything, just like her grandfather", he thought to himself. Elizabeth looked at him with a look he could not define.

"I would like to know just a little about your past. I really want to get to know you, Eliza," he said earnestly.

She smiled.

"Ask me anything. It's only fair, since I know about your past now," she said, "Just promise you won't tell anyone here about it. And I'd prefer if you kept quiet to the Death Eaters as well."

Harry laughed.

"I'll try," he said, smiling. "So, why didn't you come to Hogwarts earlier?" he asked.

Elizabeth sighed.

"Let's sit down," she said, and they sat down on the bed.

"I suppose you know that every time a magical child is born in Britain, their name is written down with a magical pen here at Hogwarts. And every year, McGonagall checks the list and sends letters to the eleven-year-olds."

"Um, I know now," Harry said, wondering why he had not thought about that before.

"Well... No, wait, I think we have to begin somewhere else," she said thoughtfully. "Okay: My mother was the famous seer, Dumbledore's daughter Gwendolyn," Elizabeth began. "She fell in love with a Muggle man, but he did not at all approve of magic." Harry imagined the man to be just like Uncle Vernon.

"He only agreed to marry her if she promised to leave the wizarding world entirely. She really loved him, so she asked her father to destroy her wand, which he did, though very reluctantly. He was very distressed. That's all Dumbledore could tell me. He did not see her again."

Elizabeth got up from the bed and walked to the window.

"All I remember is that we were quite happy and normal until I was about seven years old. My mother showed me some simple magic, but my father came home and saw it. After that, my father was always very angry and my mother always a little drunk. I don't know why things became that way, but I think my mother began regretting her choice. For five long years, she slowly killed herself with alcohol. And then one morning, when I was 12, I found her on the bathroom floor, dead."

Harry got up and walked to her. He did not know what to say. She had not noticed him as she was looking out of the window.

"And then the most horrible and strange night of my life came. I don't remember everything, just that I had crawled into my father's bedroom because I was sad. Then I woke up because of some loud noises. Two men, in black cloaks and white masks, were holding my father and a third was approaching me. They killed him with their wands. Just like that," Elizabeth and Harry noticed she was squeezing the windowsill very tightly. "Do something!" his brain hissed, but he still did not move.

"As the two men dragged my father out of the room I tried to escape the third Death Eater, but he got hold of me and I thought he was going to kill me. But he didn't. Instead he told me not to be afraid and to hide under the bed. I did as he told me to. And then I don't remember what happened. I think I was too shocked. Next thing I knew, I was in the orphanage," Elizabeth said in a tearful voice.

Harry watched as her shoulders shook as she began to cry. He patted her gently on her back, searching for something meaningful to say. He didn't care about the story anymore; he just wanted to stop her flood of tears. Elizabeth turned around and looked at him. Her big, slightly hooked nose had gone red and her eyes were puffy, but he still could not take his eyes off her.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Harry," she sobbed, "Here I am, talking about myself when I know you have experienced the same thing. And even much worse things!"

Harry awkwardly took her hands.

"Don't cry, Eliza," was all he could say. "Say something intelligent, you moron!" his brain hissed again.

"I, um, understand you. At least I think I do. I don't remember much about my parents' deaths, but I was there when my Godfather died." Harry said.

"It's nice knowing you understand," Elizabeth said, and smiled to at him through her tears.

Then she slowly leaned in, but Harry pulled away.

"Elizabeth," he began. She looked confused. "Will you go to the ball with me?" he asked solemnly. She smiled.

"Yes I will, Harry," she whispered, and Harry covered her lips with his own.

Harry found himself, once again, in the Common Room, at two o'clock in the morning, with his Firebolt and Ron. Ron was looking dreamily out in the air as they climbed the stairs to their dormitories. And Harry felt decidedly light headed too. Suddenly he understood the people who liked to hold hands in public, who sent Valentines and who walked around the castle with dreamy expressions on their faces much better.

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Several floors below the Gryffindor Tower, Draco was sitting in the otherwise empty Slytherin Common Room, staring into the smouldering fireplace. He was surrounded by several empty bottles of butterbeer.

"Tomorrow will be your last day of relative freedom. Then it's back to Malfoy Manor and time to tread in your father's dark footsteps. Soon you'll find yourself saying Avada Kedavra to Muggleborns and Mugglelovers. Like that Granger," he thought grimly, "or Ginny Weasley." Draco sighed.

He got up and began pacing the room. He cast a look up at the great portrait of Salazar Slytherin, which hung over the fireplace.

"Cheers, SS," he said and took a big gulp of the butterbeer. He sighed heavily and sat down in the chair again, lighting a cigarette. Then he continued, "You know what your initials would mean in the Muggle world? Okay, I'll tell you then: Scutzstaffel! Yes, that was the German Nazi terror organization that killed thousands. But I assume you don't mind that at all, am I correct? You are probably even proud..." Draco said. He chuckled. "You know, you really were a bastard, Salazar. Can I call you Salazar? Thanks mate." He took a long draw on his cigarette. "But since you're such a patient listener, I shall tell you a little secret," Draco raved on. "I, Draco Malfoy, have secretly been studying Muggles for years now and I can safely say that I do not mind them. Yes! That's right! Oh, I can feel you spinning in your sorry grave, but please don't stop now; there is more to come... I, yours not-so-truly, sincerely wish I weren't a Malfoy! Well, of course, I have these good looks - and the money I'd like to keep as well," he added as an afterthought. "But I wish I didn't have to become a Death Eater. Now that's a surprise, right Salazar, mate?"

"Indeed," somebody suddenly said behind him. Draco got on his feet and turned around to face the intruder. He didn't know what to say. It was the Headmaster. His long, silver beard matched the silver stars on his purple cloak and his blue eyes shone in the light from the fire.

"I see you are having difficulties sleeping too, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"How long have you been listening?" Draco asked, sounding less laidback than he had hoped.

"Long enough to learn some fascinating, yet not entirely unexpected news," Dumbledore said.

Draco swallowed. "Note to self: never speak aloud to portraits again!" he thought grimly.

"So, what are you going to do with this fascinating yet, surprisingly, not entirely unexpected news?" he asked.

"You see Mr. Malfoy, that is the sad part: I can't use it. It would just be my word against yours," Dumbledore said, smiling brilliantly, "so your secret is safe between you and me - and SS, naturally." Draco blinked.

"Well, I never said I would act on my beliefs now, did I?" Draco said, taking another draw on his cigarette and trying to look cool as he blew out the smoke. Dumbledore suddenly looked serious, looking over his glasses directly into Draco's grey eyes.

"And do you think you would enjoy life as a Death Eater, Mr. Malfoy?" said Dumbledore, while walking slowly closer. "Getting the Dark Mark burnt into your skin, wearing masks and killing innocent people you have never seen before?" There was no hint of threat in his voice or appearance: he told the truth and Draco knew it. He did not know what to say. Instead he turned his back on the old man and threw his cigarette in the fireplace.

"I have no other options," he said without turning around. "Besides, I'm a Slytherin, right? I'm supposed to be anticipating my career as a DE! To dance happily around, knowing I have the privilege of killing the undeserving! Isn't that what the Sorting Hat told me in first year?"

"But you don't believe it, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said gently, "I know you don't. And there are always other options."

"Like what? You want me to join Saint Potter and his friends? You want me to become one of the good guys?" Draco spat as he turned around violently. Dumbledore just did not understand what it was like to be a Slytherin; had the man not been a Gryffindor himself when he attended Hogwarts a thousand years ago? He looked so annoyingly calm, Draco just wanted to hit him.

"You remind me of someone I know," Dumbledore said. "He had to make the same choice."

"And he chose to fight against the Dark side and then he lived happily ever after," Draco mocked.

"Not quite," Dumbledore said quietly, "but you got the first part right."

"Then what's the point if he's miserable anyway?"

"Well, at least he can look himself in the mirror everyday and be proud of what he sees," Dumbledore said soberly.

"That's noble, but you are forgetting one thing: my father. He would make sure I spent the rest of my days in Azkaban. Or ten feet under," Draco said.

"Your father is powerful and he has powerful connections indeed," Dumbledore said, "but there are others with even greater powers, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco gave him a confused look. Dumbledore smiled.

"If you need help with anything, Draco, you know where to find me. I am Headmaster for all the students in this school, not just the Gryffindors," Dumbledore said, smiling. Then he inclined his head and walked humming out of the Common Room.

The portrait of Salazar Slytherin growled menacing at him.

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