✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

00 | L E T T E R S

staring at the ceiling in the dark,
same old empty feeling in your heart.

   EMBER, ANSWER ME!

   Ember crumbled the piece of parchment in her fist, throwing it through the room. It hit the wall and fell to the floor, landing in the midst of all the other letters Harry had written to her throughout the last month. She didn't reply. She went to Dumbledore more than once, begging, pleading, but for reasons a part of Ember did actually understand, the answer remained no. Harry's letters went from frustration over sadness to confusion, and now withheld nothing but his fullest anger.

   "Don't look at me like that", Ember told Hedwig. The gracious snow owl was sitting on top of the girl's cupboard, glaring down at Ember out of her big, round eyes. She puffed up her feathers, before spreading her wings. "Woah, hold on!", Ember said, and Hedwig tilted her head. "You need to deliver a letter for me, before you return to Harry."

   Stepping over to her nightstand, Ember pulled out an envelope from one of the drawers. "Just as usual, okay?" Hedwig wasn't pleased with this order, nevertheless she stretched out her leg, allowing Ember to fixate the letter. "Be careful and wait for the night. Harry would never forgive me if you get caught."

   With a quiet shoo, Hedwig took off. Ember watched her getting smaller in the darker growing sky, before she turned around and locked the nightstand as good as possible without using magic. Sighing, she sunk down onto the bed as the light got dimmer, staring at the crumbled letters from Harry, feeling the pressure of numbness weighing heavy on her like it used to do for weeks now.

   She hated how Harry was treated. And she hated that she couldn't do anything about it. All she needed was to know he was safe, and as long as Dumbledore could guarantee for this, Ember would have done anything.

   She glinted at her watch. Soon the meeting would be over, and it was time for dinner. Every day the same routine since Ember had arrived at Grimmauld Place. Most of the time she was helping Sirius to make this place inhabitable — and it was a long way to go. It was like this house was fighting a war against humans. There were curtains full of Doxies, an old clock in the hallway that was shooting gearwheels at passerbys, doors that couldn't be opened, Boggarts in cupboards, and a  fuddy-duddy old house elf who was the houses greatest supporter.

   It got easier when the Weasleys arrived; Molly Weasley had taken the lead in their cleansing activities, and not even Kreacher could stop her from making this old, dusty hell of a house a home. She even managed to make Ember's bedroom a cozy place to be. But without Harry, no place was a home.

   When she thought the meeting was over, Ember crossed the hallways on tiptoes to not wake Mrs Black. Through the kitchen door there came muffled sounds, and Ember noticed a nude coloured string vanishing under the door crack. With a crooked smirk on her lips, Ember rolled her eyes, knowing that somewhere in the second floor, Fred and George were sitting with the other end of those strings, trying to find out what was going on outside the walls of Grimmauld Place. But from what Ember could hear, the meeting was over. There were more people participating than usual; Ember could hear different voices, some of them she knew, like Sirius of course, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professor McGonagall, Tonks, and, to her disgust, Snape. Then one by one she heard the familiar noise of people disapparating, and the swish of someone leaving through the chimney.

   Ember made sure she didn't hear Snape's voice anymore, before she pushed the door open, stepping into the large kitchen room. There weren't much people left, just the usual faces — Sirius sitting by the table talking to Remus, Mrs. Weasley waving her wand at the counter and heavy pans came flying from a cupboard, Tonks trying to help her, but had some potatoes hitting the back of Bill's head, who was talking to Mr. Weasley and —

   For a second, Ember felt like something inside her was falling through the wooden floor beneath her feet. A icy shiver ran down her spine and she let out a shriek, her hand grasped for the wand in her back pocket, snapping up high.

   CRACK!

   Jumping five feet into the air, Fred and George appeared to her left and right, but her wand was still pointed at the grotesque face in front of her.

   "What's going on?", she heard Fred asking, his eyes following Ember's outstretched arm, then with a raised eyebrow, it removed to the girl's pale face.

   "Ember, it's alright", Remus said, suddenly stepping in front of her. He reached out for her arm, slowly lowering it, and Ember felt cold sweat run down her neck, before she realised that there was no actual threat.But her heart was still pounding heavily, and her breath came in rags, as her eyes were still fixed on Mad-Eye Moody, pictures flashing through her mind; Moody pointing his wand at Harry, Moody opening his mouth, a green light at the tip of his wand —

   "It's okay, he's the real Alastor Moody", Remus softly spoke, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

   Ember felt the heath creeping up her cheeks and she quickly put the wand back into the pocket of her jeans, her face flushing crimson. "I'm sorry. I just — I forgot he will join us ..."

   After being locked up in his own trunk for almost a full year, Moody had spend the last month in the St. Mungo hospital. Of course Ember had been told that he would join the Order as soon as he rehabilitated, but yet still there were those pictures flashing through her thoughts, and she couldn't stand looking at the man for only a second longer.

   "No need to be sorry, girl", Moody growled, and the sound of his voice had the little hair on her neck raised. "Can't blame you."

   Ember nodded, and a buzzing silence filled the room, all eyes still on her, as if they feared she would break down any second. Still shivering, Ember just wanted to disappear, to turn around and run back to her room.

   "Well", Sirius face finally broke the discomfort, his voice as carefree as nothing had happened at all, "will we tell her now that we get Harry by Saturday?"

—