The Lost Story

Chapter 7: One year passes, a new one starts

The year passed, the exams were written (I did awfully in Herbology, I was not good with plants at all) the stupid stone was destroyed and Voldemort had left my brother alone, more or less voluntarily.

I had only visited him once in the hospital wing and given him an enchanted stone from the lake, which now looked exactly like the Philosopher's Stone. After they had annoyed me so much with Flamel before and after Christmas, I had looked for him myself and enchanted the stone that I had found on the shore which was about the same size, taking a picture out of a book for reverence. I brought the stone to him that day and by chance met Dumbledore in the hospital wing. He was sitting by Harry's bed and talking to him.

"I can come back later if that's better," I murmured and was about to leave again.

"No, sit down, sit down. We can talk as a threesome," Dumbledore said cheerfully and patted the bed next to him. I sat down hesitantly.

"Here, I thought you'd like this one," I said quietly and held out the transformed stone to Harry.

"Thank you, it's pretty," my brother said. Then he turned to Professor Dumbledore. "What's the deal with our scars? And Eleanor's outbursts?" he asked bluntly. Dumbledore didn't answer right away.

"I think you should find out another time. You're not ready for that yet," he finally answered. I snorted.

"What am I?" I asked calmly, a forced calm. I didn't like rejections like that, absolutely not.

"Not today, Eleanor, not today, it's not that easy, it never was," was the only answer. And certainly not the answer I wanted to hear.

I didn't visit Harry again after that, I didn't want to see Dumbledore anymore, I was insulted. Who else could have answers? And he didn't want to give them to me!

On the train, I pondered, more or less successfully thanks to Fred and George's loud games of Exploding Snap, about what I could actually do, and I found the summer holidays even more dreary than any day on Privet Drive before.

On our birthday, Uncle Vernon planned a dinner that was terribly important to him and went over the evening's plan at breakfast. Our part was to pretend we didn't exist. Satisfied with his own planning, he buried himself behind his newspaper.

"Listen to this: Drop Dead Fred. What were they thinking? You have to look at it, they'll have to wait a long time," snorted Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper. I piped up, the title sounded interesting. After we ate, Aunt Petunia really wanted to clean and we slipped out into the garden. Not that we expected to get a present, but...

We sat on the garden bench, lost in thought, staring at the hedge and two pairs of eyes stared back! One green and one in a strange yellow! I stood up and the pairs of eyes disappeared. I only heard Dudley arguing with Harry behind my back, because I found the small package lying underneath the hedge, right where the yellow eyes had been a moment ago, much more interesting. My name was written on it. I picked it up and disappeared into our room. Just in time to avoid Aunt Petunia's tantrum and punishment. I knew Harry was outside toiling away while I was now lying on my bed (the top of the bunk bed) and opening the package. We'd had a room since we'd received the first letters from Hogwarts, well, better than the cupboard. Even though all our school things had been locked in the cupboard since we'd entered the house. As if that would change anything about us.

The package contained a neatly written note and a blood-red silk scarf.

I hope you like it...

D.

That was all that was on the note. I took the cloth and wrapped it around my right wrist, it looked pretty good there... But who or what was D.? I had no direct answer and put the piece of paper in the drawer of the desk that belonged to me.

But since I had nothing to do now, I decided to look for Uncle Vernon's morning reading to research something about the film with the incredibly funny title. I found the newspaper on a small table in the living room. The right page was quickly found and it read:

One day, Elizabeth Cronin loses her job as a shorthand typist and her car is stolen. She is abandoned by her husband Charles. Cronin returns to the house of her domineering mother Polly. There she finds the jack-in-a-box she played with in childhood. Out of the blue, Fred, her childhood imaginary friend, reappears and has not left her side since. Since only Elizabeth can see him, they soon think she's gone crazy.

Fred completely upsets Elizabeth's life. Since he still thinks she's a child, he behaves accordingly, and that leads to really abstruse situations. He cuts her hair in her sleep, sinks her friend's houseboat and causes some other terror. The only ray of hope for her is that she meets her old childhood friend Nicki Bunce, who can still remember Fred very vividly. Because even in her childhood, the redhead only caused mischief. Since only Elizabeth can see him, her mother drags her to a psychiatrist, as she slowly but surely thinks her daughter is crazy. In the psychiatrist's waiting room, there is a rather amusing encounter between the imaginary friends. Elizabeth is then prescribed pills that are supposed to destroy the diseased regions in the brain and thus kill the imaginary friend. In addition, Charles also enters her life again and persuades her to take the pills, which becomes an increasing problem for Fred, because he is still tied to Elizabeth. However, before she can take the last pill, she overhears a phone call by chance that makes it clear to her that Charles is still cheating on her, and her world is destroyed again. There is only one choice left: she has to find herself again, the origin of her doubts and the reason why Fred just doesn't want to or can't leave her side. With his help, she embarks on a journey into her subconscious, where it turns out that she is only oppressed by her husband and mother and still sees herself as a child. Only after she has freed herself from all burdens can Fred leave her, and she can take her life into her own hands again.

I grinned and decided to tell both Emily and Fred about this film that I really wanted to see. And knowing Fred, he wouldn't miss the opportunity to see a film about a guy with the same name and hair colour, especially if he was up to a lot of mischief. I put the newspaper back exactly where I had picked it up, otherwise I would get more punishments. We weren't allowed to touch Uncle Vernon's things, even if it was just a newspaper.

After that, I decided to help my brother with his mountain of punishment work. He was standing over the flower bed, fertilising the roses.

"If they could see the famous Harry Potter now," I said, grinning evilly. Dudley, who was sitting at the other end of the garden eating ice cream, hadn't heard me. It was better that way when Harry and I talked like this. He turned around and massaged his sun-scorched neck.

"What do you want?"

"Help?" I asked him. We had a kind of language of our own, a kind of hissing and snarling, but to us they were words. He nodded gratefully.

His POV:

Where was Dobby again? Whenever you looked for him, he was nowhere to be found! This would have repercussions for him. Instead, Wanda appeared in front of me. She had long, floppy bat ears, big yellow eyes, and was wearing an old pillowcase. Wanda was one of our house elves, just like Dobby.

"Wanda has done everything, young Mr. Malfoy, sir," she squeaked submissively. I nodded condescendingly.

"Good, then go and do whatever Mother told you to do today!" I said dryly. With a bow so deep that her long, crooked nose dug into the dark carpet, she disappeared. I smiled weakly and went out onto our estate. If I couldn't find Dobby to pass the time playing Wizard's Chess, I would have to think of something else to take my mind off of things.

Our mansion stood on the edge of the forest, a good distance from the village, but a good distance behind the house, through a narrow branch of the forest, you could reach our large meadows and mother's rose garden, the smell of which could cloud your senses. There were only a few people living in the village who were not capable of magic, and that was a good thing. I walked through the shadows far across the grounds to the horses that my father had given my mother a few years ago for their wedding anniversary, one of which belonged to me. I received it for my tenth birthday. I always went there when I didn't want anyone to see my face, when I wanted peace and quiet, and above all when I needed to think. That happened quite often during these holidays...