Dark

Chapter 46

Hermione
It wasn’t until the last day before term that our Hogwarts letters arrived. I had only just woken up when Mrs. Weasley entered my and Ginny’s room to hand us our mail.
“Can you believe it’s taken this long for the letters to arrive?” Ginny asked as we both tore into our envelopes.
I was about to say something when I tipped the contents of my envelope into my hand and lost my breath. Sitting upon my palm was a shining red and gold badge, emblazoned with the letter ‘P’. I just started at it, only barely aware of the fact that my mouth was hanging open.
“Hermione?” Ginny asked.
I turned to face her, still lost for words.
As her eyes fell upon the badge in my outstretched hand, she smiled widely.
“Hermione, that’s amazing!” She said. “I’m not surprised they picked you, makes perfect sense!”
“I…I’m really…I can’t believe this…” I said.
As the realization that this was really happening became clear, I began to jump up and down in joy, clutching the badge close to my chest. I had hoped all these years that I would get this badge, and now it was really happening.
“I have to go see Harry, I’m certain he got one too!” I nearly shouted as I dashed out the door and down a flight of stairs. “Did you – did you get –?” I started to say as I threw open the door to Ron and Harry’s room. Then I spotted the badge in Harry’s hand. “I knew it! Me too, Harry, me too!”
“No,” Harry said quickly, pushing the badge into Ron’s hand. “It’s Ron, not me.”
“It – what?” I asked. How could it be Ron?
“Ron’s prefect, not me,” Harry said.
“Ron?” I asked, my jaw dropping though I wished it hadn’t. “But…are you sure? I mean –“
It wasn’t until I turned toward Ron that I realized just how little I had thought about what I was saying. He looked absolutely defiant, and a mixture of embarrassment and anger was plastered to his now very red face.
“It’s my name on the letter,” he said.
“I…” I tried to find something to say but it was like my brain had forgotten how to work in all of the excitement and surprise of the morning. “I…well…wow! Well done, Ron! That’s really –“
“Unexpected,” someone said.
I turned around to find that Fred and George were also in the room. I had completely over looked them in all my excitement.
“No,” I said, a blush beginning to creep up my cheeks. “No, it’s not…Ron’s done loads of…he’s really…”
I was thankfully saved the need of trying to find more to say when Eleanor stepped into the room.
“What’s all the happy cheering about this morning?” She asked.
“Oh nothing really.” Fred answered.
“Just Ronnikins here and our little Hermione becoming prefects is all.” George said.
Eleanor eyed the prefect badges in my and Ron’s hands before scrunching her nose up slightly.
“I’m not sure I understand the excitement.” She said simply.
“Now that you all have your booklists,” Mrs. Weasley said as she backed into the room carrying a large pile of freshly laundered robes, “if you give them to me I’ll take them over to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while you’re packing. Ron, I’ll have to get you more pajamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can’t believe how fast you’re growing…what color would you like?”
“Get him red and gold to match his badge,” George smirked.
“Match his what?” Mrs. Weasley said absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron’s pile.
“His badge,” Fred said, as if he were trying to get the worst over with quickly. “His lovely shiny new prefect’s badge.”
It was a moment before Fred’s words seemed to sink in, but after a moment Mrs. Weasley began to stutter, “His…but…Ron, you’re not…?”
Ron held up his badge and Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek.
“I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That’s everyone in the family!”
“What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” George said indignantly as his Mrs. Weasley pushed past him and flung her arms around Ron.
As Mrs. Weasley continued to gush over him, I noticed the pained look that Eleanor was giving the twins, before turning a strange expression back toward Mrs. Weasley.
“Well, what will it be? We gave Percy an owl, but you’ve already got one, of course.” Mrs. Weasley asked, finally releasing Ron from her clutches.
“W-what do you mean?” Ron said.
“You’ve got to have a reward for this!” Mrs. Weasley said fondly. “How about a nice new set of dress robes?”
“We’ve already bought him some,” said Fred sourly.
“Or a new cauldron, Charlie’s old one’s rusting through, or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers –“
“Mum,” Ron said tentatively, “can I have a new broom?”
Mrs. Weasley’s face fell.
“Not a really good one!” Ron added. “Just – just a new one for a change…”
After hesitating for a moment, Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Of course you can…Well, I’d better get going if I’ve got a broom to buy too. I’ll see you all later…Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don’t forget to pack your trunks…A prefect…Oh, I’m all of a dither!”
Before leaving the room, Mrs. Weasley planted one last kiss on Ron’s check.
“Honestly, I’m surprised any of you were capable of becoming prefect.” Eleanor said. “With all the trouble you’ve been involved in.”
“It’s an honor to be chosen as a prefect.” I said, once again somewhat irritated by Eleanor’s attitude. “I notice you haven’t gotten a badge.”
“What would I want a badge for?” Eleanor said.
I noticed a smile spread over the twins’ faces at this.
“Besides, I’m not eligible.” She continued. “I may be in your year, but as I’m a year younger than you all I can’t be made a prefect.”
“Oh…” I hadn’t known that.
“Who else do you think got badges then?” Harry asked.
“As long as it’s anyone besides Malfoy, I don’t really care.” Ron said.
“Malfoy would be a menace with a prefect’s badge. I would hope Dumbledore would know better than to let him be a prefect.” Eleanor said.
My eyes involuntarily widened at her statement. She was friends with Malfoy, wasn’t she? I didn’t understand why she would say something like that when she had even held his hand while in the hospital wing. It had been a small gesture, but the look on Malfoy’s face when she had reached out toward him had made me certain that there was something between them. Whether it was anything more than a close friendship, I wasn’t sure, but I had thought it was at least something.
“Actually,” Harry started, looking nervously toward Eleanor, “I wanted to talk to you about Malfoy.”
This couldn’t be good.
“Harry, I don’t think th–“ I started to say.
“His father was there that night. In the graveyard.”

George
My eyes shot toward Harry. He hadn’t talked about what had happened at the end of the tournament much. Now he was bringing it up, and I was sure where he was about to take the conversation.
“So?” Eleanor asked.
“So…” Harry looked confused, as though Eleanor would immediately get his point and she hadn’t. “So you can’t trust Malfoy, you shouldn’t hang out with him all the time like you did last year.”
Eleanor immediately clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes.
“Malfoy’s father was there, Harry. Not Malfoy. That’s a pretty big difference if you ask me.”
“Wait…did you know that his father was there? Did you know that this whole time?” Harry asked.
“Of course I did! His father is Death Eater for crying out loud, Harry. Of course he would have been there with the rest of them.” Eleanor said, raising her voice in frustration.
“And you’re still friends with him?!” Harry nearly yelled back.
“Malfoy’s father is a Death Eater. Malfoy isn’t!” Eleanor shot back.
“Eleanor, I’m just trying to protect you, you shouldn’t be –“
“Trying to protect me? Really, Harry?” She asked, narrowing her eyes into a full out glare in his direction. “I don’t need your protection. I don’t want your protection, Harry. You didn’t want me to be a part of your life, and you can’t just magically take that back. It doesn’t work that way!”
“He’s dangerous, Eleanor! How in the world can’t you see that?!”
“Just because his father turned out to be a terrible person don’t mean that Malfoy will be just like him. Kids turn out differently from their parents all the time.”
“You’re only saying that because of our parents!” Harry was furious at this point, staring Eleanor down almost as viciously as she was glaring at him.
“No, Harry. They aren’t our parents. Lily and James were your parents. They didn’t want me, just like you didn’t either.” Eleanor retorted.
“How can you keep saying that?! They died for us!”
“No! They died for you! Only you! They just threw me out like trash!”
At this point, Eleanor was shaking with rage, a fury building up so strongly within her that it was completely visible from the outside. She looked nearly ready to jump the five foot space between her and Harry and attack him. Harry looked no less upset. His face was growing red with anger by the second, and a determined expression crossed his features.
“Yeah? Well maybe they could tell how you’d end up! Only the Malfoy’s of all people would be proud to have a kid so talented in the Dark Arts! Who in their right mind would want that?!”
No one had made a sound at this, but it felt like we had all taken a collective gasp. The words had left Harry’s mouth and in the seconds that followed he seemed to immediately regret what he had said. Eleanor on the other hand just stood there, staring at Harry. She had clenched her jaw tightly and her hands were balled into fists at her side, shaking with rage. Whatever composure the two of them had had earlier, it was completely gone now.
“He…he didn’t me–“ Hermione started.
Eleanor gave a tiny shake of her head, and her expression had become completely blank.
“No, Hermione…he’s just telling the truth. That’s probably exactly what they thought.”
With one last look at Harry, Eleanor turned and left the room.
As if all the energy had been drawn out of him, Harry crumpled down onto the edge of his bed, his head in his hands.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened, what had just been said.
Shaking my head, I followed Eleanor out of the room.

Eleanor
My heart was beating so quickly I felt as though I could faint.
It didn’t make sense, it never made any sense. Lily and James had never wanted me. Harry didn’t want me either. So why did it hurt so badly every time I came face to face with that fact? Why did it always feel as though my heart was trying to jump out of my chest, as though my head wanted to explode with anger, as though my body just wanted to give in and call it quits?
“Eleanor!” I heard someone calling after me.
I continued down the hall, taking another two turns before I finally couldn’t go any farther. I leaned back into the wall and tried to collect myself, but it seemed nearly impossible. Then George turned around the corner and nearly ran right into me.
Reaching out, he placed both of his hands on my arms, standing a measly two feet away.
“That’s not true, Eleanor. No one would ever think that –“ He started to say.
“He’ll never see me as anything more than someone who practices Dark Magic, George!” I said. My voice shook even though I tried to remain steady. “No one ever will…”
I felt like I was losing everything. I had spent so many years building up walls and turning off so many emotions that I was completely taken by surprise as I drew in a sharp and shaky breath. I hadn’t cried in so long that the entire sensation felt foreign to me.
George pulled me close and simply held on to me for a moment. It was comforting, and for a brief moment I simply allowed it to happen. Then I realized that it was George’s arms that I was in, that I was crying in front of him, allowing myself to be completely pathetic.
I ripped myself apart from him and turned down the hall again.
Control, the more I allowed myself to feel, the less of it I had.
Control is everything, and I can’t afford to lose what little control I have.

Harry
Anger.
Why did I say those things to Eleanor?
The simple answer is anger.
I was angry about the prefect badges. I was angry that Dumbledore still hadn’t bothered to tell me anything. I was angry that Eleanor had thought it was so impossible for Ron, Hermione, or I to become prefects in the first place. I was just so angry.
Then to find out that she knew Malfoy’s father had been there that night, to find out that she was still friends with Malfoy despite that…It was a lot. But that wasn’t the end of it.
I was angry that Eleanor denied our parents. I was angry that she only called them Lily and James, never mum or dad. I was angry that she was angry at them. I was angry that she hated them so much.
In that moment, I couldn’t control myself, I was just too angry.
I knew that Eleanor had good reason to not be happy with our parents. I knew that what they had done to her, giving her to that orphanage when she was born…it had brought about every terrible thing that had happened to her. I knew all of this, and I understood it. But I was so angry in that moment that I couldn’t stop the words before they had left my mouth.
Ron and Hermione had both berated me after Eleanor left. Fred looked as though he wanted to join them, but after a minute he simply left the room, a not so kind expression still etched on his face.
I had spent the entire day in my and Ron’s room. I didn’t want to face Eleanor, not after what I said. Though from the way she reacted, I was sure she wasn’t leaving her room either. I had wanted to make things right between us for so long, and I just ripped the two of us apart even further. I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t know what to say. I just avoided everyone for as long as I could that day.
It wasn’t until later in the evening that I had finally left the room to join the festivities downstairs. I had no desire to be a part of the celebration, but Ron and Hermione deserved this and I felt like I needed to be there for them.
The kitchen was filled with Order members who were all talking, laughing, and enjoying the food and drinks that Mrs. Weasley had laid out. A large banner hung over fireplace that read “Congratulations Ron and Hermione – New Prefects.”
“Oh, Alastor, I am glad you’re here,” I heard Mrs. Weasley say from nearby. “We’ve been wanting to ask you for ages – could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what’s inside it? We haven’t wanted to open it just in case it’s something really nasty.”
“No problem, Molly…”
Moody’s electric-blue eye swiveled upward and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen.
“Drawing room…” he growled. “Desk in the corner? Yeah I see it…Yeah it’s a boggart…Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?”
“No, no, I’ll do it myself later,” Mrs. Weasley beamed. “You have your drink. We’re having a little bit of a celebration, actually…” She gestured toward the scarlet banner. “Fourth prefect in the family! She said fondly as she reached out to a nearby Ron and ruffled his hair.
Eventually I made my way into a corner of the room with Tonks, Ginny, and Sirius.
“I was never a prefect myself,” Tonks said brightly. “My head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities.”
“Like what?” Ginny asked.
“Like the ability to behave myself.” Tonks laughed.
“What about you, Sirius?”
Sirius’s head perked up and he smiled with a somewhat faraway look. “No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge.”
“I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends,” Lupin said, joining our conversation. “I need scarcely say that I failed dismally.”
It felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. My father hadn’t been a prefect either. Though the incident with Eleanor still haunted me, the party had suddenly become more bearable, almost enjoyable even.
I looked around the room, taking everything in. Ron was listing off the stats of his new broom to anyone who would listen. Hermione was speaking with Lupin about her views on elf rights. Fred and George were having a hushed conversation with Mundungus. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. The only person absent was Eleanor.
“Well, I think I’ll sort out that boggart before I turn in…Arthur, I don’t want this lot up too late, all right? ‘Night, Harry, dear.” Mrs. Weasley said before making her way out of the kitchen.
If she was leaving, I may be able to making my way out of the room as well without seeming too rude. I waited for a couple of minutes before carefully weaving my way through the crowd of people in the kitchen. As the door closed behind me I made my way up the stairs.
As I reached the next floor I started to hear it. Sobbing.
I wasn’t sure who it was coming from, but with everyone else down in the kitchen, it had to be either Eleanor or Mrs. Weasley. I rushed up the next stair case, and down the hall before I reached a door to the room that the sobbing had to be coming from.
I opened the door to find someone cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand and her body shaking with sobs. It was Mrs. Weasley. She was crying and staring wide-eyed at a sprawled out figure upon the floor. It was a dead body, and it was none other than Ron.
It felt as though all the air in my lungs had vanished. This couldn’t be Ron, could it?
Then it became clear. It really couldn’t be Ron. I had just seen him alive and well talking about his broom as I left the kitchen.
“Mrs. Weasley?” I croaked.
“R-r-riddikulus!” She sobbed, pointing her want at Ron’s body.
Crack!
Ron’s body turned into Bill’s, spread-eagled on his back, his eyes wide open and empty. Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever.
“R-riddikulus!”
Mr. Weasley’s body replaced Bill’s. And again, and again as Mrs. Weasley tried to banish the boggart, it took the form of each of her loved ones, lying dead upon the floor: dead twins, dead Percy, dead Charlie…even me.
“Mrs. Weasley, just get out of here!” I shouted, staring down at my own dead body. “Let someone else –“
“What’s going on?” I turned to find Eleanor standing behind me, looking toward Mrs. Weasley with worry. Then her gaze shifted up and her eyes widened farther than I had ever seen.
I turned to face what had been my own dead body upon the floor, but it wasn’t there now. Instead there was a man standing in the room, glaring down upon Eleanor. His face was so shadowed that it was hard to make out his features but he towered over her. There was a look of pure rage and hunger on his face.
This was Eleanor’s boggart?
I turned again to Eleanor ready to jump up and shove her back out the room but Lupin had just burst in.
“What…” He said, staring at the strange figure in the room.
“Boggart!” I said quickly.
Lupin withdrew his wand from his robes and took on the boggart. Eleanor quickly turned and darted out of the room. I followed after her, running down the corridor. As I caught up to her I reached out for her arm and pulled her back.
“Eleanor, what –“
“Let go of me, Harry!” She shouted.
“It was just a boggart.”
“I know that, just let go!” Eleanor shouted again. Her eyes were still wide and she looked desperate to run as far away from the room we had been in as physically possible.
“Eleanor…was that…was that the person who…” I tried to ask, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it, not as I looked down on the desperate expression on Eleanor’s face.
“Just let go, Harry! Haven’t you done enough already?!”
Eleanor ripped her arm out of my grasp and retreated further down the hall before taking a turn and disappearing from view.