Lies, Buried and Bound - A Dramione Story

Part Thirteen

After a blast of green flames whisked them back into the Burrow, Ginny muttered a quick cleaning spell that expelled every fleck of soot from both her and Charlotte's dress. She sat Charlotte down on one of the chairs opposite the loveseat, where Harry rested with his knee propped up, and crouched low to the floor.

"Charlotte, I need you to talk to us. We're good people, we're not going to hurt you. I promise."

Fleur stepped in, "Veux-tu nous - "

Ginny held her hand up. "Charlotte. We're going to help you find your mummy, we just need you to tell us her name."

Fleur frowned and many of the other Weasleys started to gather.

Charlotte looked around at the many strange faces and let her eyes gloss over with unshed tears. "My... my mummy?"

"Yes, Charlotte. Your mummy's name."

"She's my mummy."

Harry looked up at Bill, "Since when has she been speaking English?" to which he just shrugged.

"Ginny dear, I don't think she knows her mum's name," Molly said sadly. "She's not old enough yet."

Ginny let out a sad sigh and placed her head on the cushion of the loveseat.

"Charlotte, can you tell us your full name?" Molly asked sweetly.

"I'm Charlotte Cricket."

"Is your last name Cricket?" she asked for confirmation.

"My mummy calls me 'Cricket.'" The little girl was absolutely beaming, finally feeling safe to talk to these strangers. She had something close to hope that she couldn't identify as anything other than excitement. These people were going to find her mummy.

Yet once again, they looked really unhappy.

Changing the subject, Molly brushed a hand along Ginny's shoulders and spoke to the girl, "How about a bath, Charlotte? Get you all clean."

"I love baths! Toys?" She reached up for Molly's hand.

"Yes! We have lots of toys."

"Rubber ducks too?"

Molly shot a knowing look at her painfully confused husband, "Yes, we have rubber ducks." Then the pair disappeared up the stairs.

Ron was the first to break the silence. "What the bloody hell are we going to do? We have a random child who doesn't know her mum's name, let alone her own full name..."

"First, we need to think about what it is that we know about her," Ginny said.

"Such as?" Harry asked.

She tore a piece of parchment from the bundle on the desk, a quill, and an ink well. "We know her name is Charlotte."

"No, shit."

Ginny glared at Ron.

"Um, we know she speaks French," Fleur supplied, "as well as English."

"Right. But what does that tell us about where she's from? I mean, she could be French, living in England, and vice versa."

Percy, who'd been listening in with rapt attention, inserted himself into the conversation. "Do we know how much exposure she's had to the magical world?"

"That's a good point," Ginny said quietly, thinking back on every interaction she's had. "As of right now, I think the person who knows her best is Malfoy."

"What?!"

"Yeah, he was her healer. He said to us that she was a really intelligent girl, which must mean that they conversed."