Elizabeth Kane and the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter 2

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𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 my little bedroom with a strange feeling in my chest. My trunk, owl, bag, and broom were already downstairs but I'd wanted to stay up here a little longer. I'd only spent a week here after all, and I was already leaving.

It looked so unchanged from when I'd lived here at eleven years old. The bed in the corner was the same size since Dad changed out my crib for a bed. The sheets were pale pink with roses on them, faded with age. The lace curtains in front of the singular window. The bookcase crammed full with books, the desk that held books and a few pictures in frames, the wardrobe with all my clothes in it. The pink phonograph on my desk, the box of music discs under the desk. The posters of the Beatles or Quidditch teams or singular flyers on my walls.

The only difference was a small shelf that I'd screwed into the wall that held carved figurines of different animals or magical creatures that Hagrid had carved for me every Christmas and birthday.

I felt so detached from this room. It didn't feel like my room. It felt like the room of someone who had died and I was visiting. I shivered and hurried out of the room, closing the door gently behind me with a firm snap.

Dad was downstairs, reading. Trang was home.

I went into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. It was 10:30 at night, and Dumbledore would be here in fifteen minutes. I dunked a tea bag in the cup, making my way back into the living room. I sat down on the couch next to dad and put my head on his shoulder. He put an arm around me.

I didn't get to see what he was reading because he snapped the book closed and tossed it lightly onto the ottoman. We sat there in silence until there was a knock at the door. Dad got up off the couch, his warm arm leaving my shoulder and I stood up too.

Dad opened the door. I sipped my tea, waiting.

"Hello Remus." Dumbledore said in the other room.

"Would you like to come in Professor?" Dad asked.

"Yes, I think I shall." Dumbledore said, and stepped through the door and smiled over at me. "Hello Elizabeth."

"Hello Professor." I said softly. "Are we- are we going?"

"In a near minute. I will discuss more of the matters at Harry's house, but I do want your father included in a bit of this discussion." Dumbledore said.

Dad and Dumbledore came into the living room. Dad sat back down on the couch next to me and Dumbledore sat in a rocking chair in the other corner of the room. Dad liked telling me that was the chair he rocked me in when reading me bed-time stories. I liked remembering those nights, especially in the winter when he would put the fire on and the flames would crackle and pop as he read fairy tales. I would constantly ask if the characters existed, because magic was real, and he would laugh, a laugh that would fill the room and make me feel warm and special.

"I know you've both suffered over the loss of Sirius and it should be said, as gently as possible that Sirius left you and Harry everything that he owned. He split everything quite evenly between the two of you, though he made sure you got the grand piano and Buckbeak." Dumbledore's voice brough me back from the past.

I swallowed hard and grabbed dad's hand who squeezed it back. "He also, left most of his books to you Remus, knowing you'd probably make more use of them than Harry, though he did say Harry gets first dibs."

Dad nodded, a hard look on his face. He might cry in front of me, but he wasn't going to cry in front of Dumbledore.

"Hagrid. . . Hagrid can have Buckbeak." I said faintly. "I believe you would have said he'd be rechristened Witherwings?"