The Art of New Beginnings

Chapter Eleven: Experimentation on the Side

Erica didn't have a very clear idea of how they had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel and into the castle once more. All she knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that she hardly noticed what she was doing because her head was still pounding from the conversation she had just overheard.

It would be so easy to contact Jeremy and get the copies of the Daily Prophet that would have been in circulation shortly before Pettigrew's escape, to see what exactly was written about her that made him want out of Azkaban so suddenly. It would hardly take any effort at all, and if it had been a few months ago she would have done it without a second thought, just as she would have looked up what a Horcrux was, investigated why Remus feared moons and what was bothering Severus in greater detail, gone down to speak to Nagendra and continued the search for the remaining objects- no, Horcruxes.

She wasn't the same girl she was those months ago, though, and so she wouldn't see Jeremy and she wouldn't get the copies and she wouldn't know what made Pettigrew want to escape so badly. She thought it was the not-knowing that was the hardest part, until she saw the look on Harry's face and realised he had it so much harder.

His father had been killed because of this man, as had hers, but he clearly felt it more deeply than she did. She watched him all throughout dinner as the others took tentative steps around him, clearly not wanting to upset him any further. All that was said... he clearly knew that Pettigrew was after him, that he had been a supporter of her father's, but it was clear he hadn't known the details. That Pettigrew was the Potters Secret Keeper, that he was one of their best friends, that he had tried to frame Sirius in the aftermath.

Her own pain seemed insignificant in comparison, so she squashed it down, burying it deep underneath happier thoughts, thoughts of her mother's cooking and afternoons spent learning magic with Severus and lazy mornings in the winter reading in front of the fireplace.

Nobody asked her how she felt, not even Draco. She buried the sting of that as well, underneath memories of Diagon and the day Draco showed up in Paris to take her back home. She fell asleep to those memories, curled up in her blankets still in her day clothes.

That night, she dreamt of nothing.

~

"Erica, you- well, you look terrible."

Erica had woken up late, far later then usual, some time past midday, to find the dormitory deserted, dressed and gone down the stairs to a common room which was nearly just as empty except for Draco, who was finishing off some homework that he'd spread over three tables, and Blaise and Pansy, who looked to be in what an intense game of chess. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is everyone?" She sighed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she curled up in one of the armchairs by the fire, arms wrapped around her chest for warmth.

"It's the first day of the holidays," Draco shrugged, setting down his quill and moving to sit in the armchair next to her. "They're all gone. I was going to come and get you so that you could get some dinner, but when Pansy checked you were completely dead to the world."

She sighed, hiding her face in the sleeves of her jumper so she didn't have to look at anyone. It worked as well, right up until the point that Harry came barging back into the common room from the doorway to the dungeons, his face flushed.

"Hagrid," he panted, waving the letter in the air, and they all immediately gathered around him to read it, much to the disgruntled complaints of Blaise and Pansy's chess pieces. "He got this letter this morning."

And so, they read.

Dear Mr Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.