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wingedblooms · 3 months

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Heart of the Night Court

This meta is a continuation of theories in forbidden secrets, blooming dreams, and bright as the dawn, as it narrows in on Illyria, Ramiel, and their connection to Wyrd. Please avoid if you do not want to read hofas spoilers.

Facing Ramiel

The northern region of the Night Court is where Ramiel, one of the three sacred sister peaks, is located. It is considered the heart of Illyria and the Night Court.

Ramiel. The sacred mountain. The heart of not only Illyria, but the entirety of the Night Court. None were permitted on its barren, rocky slopes—save for the Illyrians, and only once a year at that. During the Blood Rite. Cassian soared toward it, unable to resist Ramiel’s ancient summons. Different—the mountain was so different from the barren, terrible presence of the lone peak in the center of Prythian. Ramiel had always felt alive, somehow. Awake and watchful. (acofas) [...] Ramiel rose higher still, a shard of stone piercing the gray sky. Beautiful and lonely. Eternal and ageless. (acofas)

Cassian describes Ramiel as alive, awake, and watchful, and so very beautiful as she rises from the earth. Likewise, Feyre emphasizes that Elain is alive and somehow infinitely more beautiful as she rises from the ground after she is Made in the Cauldron. Her legs are even bare, which remind me of the barren terrain, and her sheer nightgown might even be a hint for thin places, as @offtorivendell observed. Elain’s strength has also always been different than her sisters, just like Ramiel among her sacred sister peaks.

And as if it had been tipped by invisible hands, the Cauldron turned on its side. More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water. And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare. The queens pushed forward. Alive, she had to be alive, had to have wanted to live– Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer. And as she rose from the ground onto her elbows, the gag in place, as she twisted to look at me— Nesta began roaring again. Pale skin started to glow. Her face had somehow become more beautiful—infinitely beautiful, and her ears … Elain’s ears were now pointed beneath her sodden hair. (acomaf)

As each spring dawns on the world, Ramiel is crowned with three stars, and the Illyrians—who we learned may have been the Asteri’s soldiers and therefore may carry on rituals that would have benefited them—honor bloodshed on her land rather than new life.

No wonder that first ruler of the Night Court had made this his insignia. Along with the three stars that only appeared for a brief window each year, framing the uppermost peak of Ramiel like a crown. It was during that window when the Rite occurred. Which had come first: the insignia or the Rite, Cassian didn’t know. Had never really cared to find out. The conifer forests and ravines that dotted the landscape flowing to Ramiel’s foot gleamed under the fresh snow. Empty and clean. No sign of the bloodshed that would occur come the start of spring. (acofas)

Some even seem to take great pleasure in the killing that is permitted during this rite, and Ramiel, which we know is alive and watching, is forced to witness it every year. Azriel calls it a week of pointless bloodshed, but we know now that is likely untrue. @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell and I believe the Asteri may have created or warped an existing rite to suit their needs. @silverlinedeyes pointed out that this spring rite reminds her of the Great Rite, and that made something click for me: perhaps the Blood Rite is the Night Court's Great Rite. Is the secondlight from slain warriors absorbed by the land? And do those few who reach the stone, which I suspect might be the Maiden in this rite, provide firstlight to the cache hidden in Ramiel’s heart? Is it any wonder the winds around her howl, and her land is often frozen and inhospitable?

The mountain neared, mighty and endless, so wide that he might as well have been a mayfly in the wind. Cassian soared toward Ramiel’s southern face, rising high enough to catch a glimpse of the shining black stone jutting from its top. Who had put that stone atop the peak, he didn’t know, either. Legend said it had existed before the Night Court formed, before the Illyrians migrated from the Myrmidons, before humans even walked the earth. Even with the fresh snow crusting Ramiel, none had touched the pillar of stone. (acofas)

The shining black stone on Ramiel’s face is able to heal and transport those who touch it. In acosf, it knew where Nesta’s friends were needed most and sent them to the River House. It is also on the southern face of the mountain, which in the northern hemisphere, is the part of the mountain that receives the most sunlight. Cassian tells us that he doesn’t know who put it there, but legend says it was before humans even walked the earth. While it is very likely that the Asteri warped it (into a tool to sustain them, like the gates in Lunathion as @merymoonbeam so cleverly pointed out), I believe it may have also originally been linked to the Cauldron.

In hofas, we discover that Ramiel used to bear the Cauldron on her land:

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.” Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...] “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas) […] The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.” (hofas)

I wonder if long ago, before the Asteri desecrated them, the stone and Cauldron together resembled this depiction of Wyrd:

The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos. […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)

This depiction is interesting because it mirrors, almost exactly, the figurine Nesta assumes is the Mother in the House of Wind:

It was a fire. Not her father’s neck. Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. Another log cracked, and Nesta flinched. But she remained sitting there. Staring at that carved rose. (acosf)

For some reason, she needed to set Elain’s rose, half-hidden in shadow, next to this depiction of what appears to be Wyrd. In hosab, the Under-King also described Wyrd as a mother to all, which is why I theorized that she is actually a triple goddess: Mother, Cauldron, Fate. They are three parts, or faces, of the same force. The three sacred sister peaks and three blessed Archeron sisters are intentionally linked to her. Perhaps the moon in the female’s hands isn’t just a moon, but a world too. Immediately after this scene, the House of Wind shows Nesta her heart in the lovely darkness of the mountain, which she calls the heart of the world, of existence. Of self.

Heart racing, Nesta lifted the lantern in one hand and gazed at the darkness, untouched by the light from the library high, high above. The heart of the world, of existence. Of self. The heart of the House. “This…” Her fingers tightened on the lantern. “This darkness is your heart.” [...] Let the darkness sweep in. Embraced it. “I’m not afraid,” she whispered into it. “You are my friend, and my home. Thank you for sharing this with me.” (acosf)

Nesta embraces the heart of the House of Wind, which naturally makes me recall the heart of the Prison asking Bryce to open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. We’re not sure exactly how Avallen might have affected the Prison island, and I suspect there is more to come with that plot thread. While I had always hoped the Valkyries might re-establish themselves as an intercourt army in the Middle, which does not have ties to any court in particular, I can also appreciate the possibility that they might ultimately settle on the Prison island instead. It would be incredible to see Pegasi return and for the Valkyries to learn how to fly on them.

This plot is related to the core thread driving us forward, and it is something that can occur in a book that is centered on Elain and Azriel. Together, they have the vision and gifts needed to map the secrets of the land, starting with the sacred sister peaks, which I believe will ultimately help them restore Wyrd. This would fit all of the seeds Sarah has planted for the third sister’s arc with Azriel, Nuala, and Cerridwen. It would also be powerful for a character who has been underestimated and ridiculed for gardening to heal the land and the very source that created it.

As I said prior to hofas, this exploration will inevitably bring them to the very heart of Ramiel. As a bearer of Wyrd, the source of life, Ramiel may even be the heart of the world, not just the Night Court. Will they discover that she was once very different? Did she change, as her sisters did, when the Asteri burrowed into her heart? Or was it because the Cauldron, Wyrd’s physical form, was warped into a tool of destruction by the Asteri and later removed from her land? Were the Illyrians created to guard the Cauldron since it was the Asteri’s most precious weapon? And is that why, as @cassianfanclub wondered, the Asteri were so desperate to reach the stone at the top, where the Cauldron was once depicted? Enalius may have prevented it from falling into their hands as he defended the Pass, which would’ve been a critical turning point in a rebellion. Unlike the rite they currently use to honor him, Enalius’s defense was in the service of life, which is what made Nesta’s sacrifice so inspiring. Her sacrifice is now depicted in the heart of the Court of Dreams, which is dedicated to building a better world.

Descending into Ramiel

We learn that Ramiel may be hiding secrets from Eris, of all characters:

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.” “We don’t know why they exist, but do you not find it strange that two out of the three have underground palaces carved into them?” […] Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.” “I thought Amarantha made the court Under the Mountain herself,” Nesta said. “Oh, she decorated it and made us act like a sorry imitation of your Court of Nightmares, but the tunnels and halls were carved long before. By who, we don’t know.” (acosf)

He tells us that the three sacred peaks are sisters. Sacred is another word for blessed. And two out of three of them have been at least somewhat explored, but the third? Still mysterious. No one was curious enough to see what lied beneath her beautiful face, at her heart. This is such a lovely parallel for the three blessed sisters, and seems like a clear hint for the third one in particular.

In hofas, we receive confirmation that these secrets might be connected to the Asteri, who are known as Daglan in Prythian lore:

“They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas)

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.” “There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly. “Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)

Bryce concludes, after Vesperus is able to draw the power from her secret cache below, that there is a firstlight core in the root, or heart, of the mountain. We see what happens in Avallen when the land is forced to contain magic where its ley lines overlap, rather than allowing it to flow as it should: it binds the magic of the land and causes it to wither like a plant with root rot. And that seems to explain why the sacred peaks are so odd: barren yet thrumming with power.

I have theorized that the caches of power may need to be released leading up to the restoration of Wyrd, and I suspect there may be clues—especially within Ramiel—about how the Asteri warped and bound her to the land. If Elain is as tied to the land as we suspect, this could also strengthen whatever magic she possesses.

In the cavern illustrations Bryce views in hofas, we see what might lie beneath Ramiel, maybe even the entire Night Court:

Scenes of a blessed land, a thriving civilization. One relief had been so similar to the frieze of the Fae male forging the sword at the Crescent City Ballet that Bryce had nearly gasped. The last carving before the river had been one of transition: a Fae King and Queen seated on thrones, a mountain—different from the one with the palace atop it—behind them with three stars rising above it. A different kingdom, then. Some ancient High Lord and Lady, Nesta had suggested before approaching the river. She hadn’t commented on the lower half of the carving, which depicted a Helscape beneath their thrones, some kind of underworld. Humanoid figures writhed in pain amid what looked like icicles and snapping, scaly beasts—either past enemies conquered or an indication of what failure to bow to the rulers would bring upon the defiant. The suffering stretched throughout, lingering even underneath that archipelago and its mountaintop palace. Even here, in paradise, death and evil remained. A common motif in Midgardian art, too, usually with the caption: Et in Avallen ego. Even in Avallen, there am I. A whispered promise from Death. Another version of memento mori. A reminder that death was always, always waiting. Even in the blessed Fae isle of Avallen. (hofas)

This might merely be a hint for the Asteri secrets that remain buried in the earth. But I agree with others (including @offtorivendell, @ladynightcourt3, @cassianfanclub, and @silverlinedeyes) who have wondered if this Helscape is in fact a hint that Prythian, and the Night Court in particular, is tied to Hel. We learned that the worlds in the Maasverse are tied together through ley lines, and the veil between worlds is thin where these ley lines overlap—like the lines in a star.

That may be the true meaning of star symbols throughout the Maasverse, and the one specifically found in the Prison that is connected to the Starborn: as I theorized pre-hosab, it is a compass rose, and it seems to be linked to other places in the grander tapestry of the universe. There is power in the space where the lines meet; these lines represent ley lines. Certain people (Asteri, Starborn, etc.) are able to use that power to travel, communicate, or even light up entire worlds. Depending on how those lines are woven in certain areas, they might even be able to draw you to one place more than another. That may explain why the Prison seems more connected to Midgard. So, could Ramiel be more connected to Hel, and the Middle to…Erilea?

I wonder if Elain, Azriel, Nuala, and Cerridwen’s exploration in the heart of Ramiel might lead them to Wyrd’s Temple in Hel, except @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, and I think she goes by yet another name there: Chaos. It’s possible they could use black salt or another substance to achieve this, as @offtorivendell and @cassianfanclub have discussed, especially with Elain’s sight. I am personally hoping for a physical trip to Hel and Ramiel might possess a doorway, or rift, as @offtorivendell has theorized.

The black boat that Aidas led Bryce and Hunt into was a cross between the one that had brought them into Avallen and the ones that carried bodies to the Bone Quarter. But in lieu of a stag’s head, it was a stag’s skull at the prow, greenish flame dancing in its eyes as it sailed through the cave. The eerie green light illuminated black rock carved into pillars and buildings, walkways and temples. Ancient. And empty. Bryce had never seen a place so void of life. So … still. Even the Bone Quarter had a sense of being lived in, albeit by the dead. But here, nothing stirred. […] “It’s like a city of the dead,” Hunt murmured, draping a wing around Bryce. Aidas turned from where he stood at the prow, holding in his hands a long pole that he’d used to guide them. “That’s because it is.” He gestured with a pale hand to the buildings and temples and avenues. “This is where our beloved dead come to rest, with all the comforts of life around them.” […] Before Aidas could answer, the boat approached a small quay leading to what appeared to be a temple. A figure emerged from between the pillars of the temple and descended its front steps. Golden-haired, golden-skinned. […] “The Temple of Chaos is a sacred place,” Apollion said sharply. “We shall never defile it with violence.” The words rumbled like thunder again.

This sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It sounds an awful lot like other beliefs in the Maasverse:

Bryce asked, because some small part of her had to know after what she’d seen of the Mask, “When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that. But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.” (hofas)

“We’ll collect the dead tomorrow,” Manon said, her voice low. “And burn them at moonrise.” As both Crochans and Ironteeth did. A full moon tomorrow—the Mother’s Womb. A good moon to be burned. To be returned to the Three-Faced Goddess, and reborn within that womb. (koa)

Wyrd (Chaos) is the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. And that is where people rest in joy until they are reborn. Could this be where the spirits are migrating on Starfall?

We know the Princes of Hel are intergalactic helpers, so a trip to Hel or an encounter with a Prince (Bryaxis? Thanatos? Even Balthazar, if he isn’t Elain? 😉 still my favorite crack theory) might give us insight into their role in Prythian. It could also involve Azriel’s peculiar magic that makes him, like Ramiel, so different from even his Illyrian brothers. Let's be honest, he’s always had a Prince of Hel vibe—down to his reverence for Wyrd (Mother, Cauldron, Fate/Chaos)—that I would love to see come to fruition.

Beyond Azriel himself, I also think we will learn the origins of the Illyrians in the heart of Ramiel. Were they connected to Hel before the Asteri made them their soldiers, like @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell theorized? Or were they an experiment like the blessed sisters? Did the Asteri put humans (hence the ears) into the Cauldron after it was imbued with their void magic and create beings of night and pain who could combat enemies, including demons? This might be another reason why the three most powerful Illyrians are a match in power for the three blessed sisters.

Together, they balance opposing forces as @silverlinedeyes previously theorized. They seem to represent the forces of Void and Chaos, and their power can be combined in the space between to achieve impossible feats (eg, physically healing the Cauldron and the rip in the world). All three sisters seem to be chosen bearers, or conduits, for Wyrd (Chaos), so I wouldn’t be surprised if we see another example of this in a different way for Azriel and Elain, and/or a scene where they are all linked magically.

My lips tugged toward a smile. But Rhys stared at all of us, somehow assembled here in the sun-drenched open grasses without being given the order. Our family—our court. The Court of Dreams. […] He surveyed them all again—and held out his hand to Cassian. Cassian took it, and held out his other hand for Mor. Then Mor extended her other to Azriel. Azriel to Amren. Amren to Nesta. Nesta to Elain. And Elain to me. Until we were all linked, all bound together. (acowar)

Since Ramiel is connected to Wyrd (Chaos), and there may be a doorway to her temple in Hel, this journey will likely also uncover secrets about her. Will her story come from illustrations in stone, members of Hel, or…my personal favorite, Wyrd herself? I believe that is one of the many reasons she gifted Elain with such powers, including sight: so she could tell her story to someone who could see differently. Someone who could see the creator within the darkness, just as Elain saw the dark cottage as a shelter rather than a prison. This gift may provide them the information they need to uncover the Asteri’s secrets and unravel their magic from the sacred peaks and Wyrd, which could lead them to at least two other places: (1) Midgard, where the Book of Breathings is now kept by Bryce, and (2) Cretea, where the Cauldron is currently hidden. Could Azriel even pay back Bryce for stealing his precious dagger? It would only be fitting.

Ramiel Springs Eternal

I was so cold I might never be warm again. Even during winter in the mortal realm, I’d managed to find some kernel of heat, but after nearly emptying my cache of magic that afternoon, even roaring heart fire couldn’t thaw the chill around my bones. Did spring ever come to this blasted place? (acomaf)

Illyria is known for being bitterly cold, to the point where Feyre wonders if spring would ever arrive there. Sarah has consistently described Elain as blooming life amid death and winter, and this imagery starts to become really apparent in Illyria:

Mor let out a snort that made the Illyrians stiffen. But she shifted, revealing Elain behind her. Elain was just blinking, wide-eyed, at the camp. The army. Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon…She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. (acowar)

Compared to Nesta, a newly forged sword, Elain is a blooming flower even in an Illyrian army camp, which is essentially saying she is a bloom of life and color in the middle of winter. This imagery is so fitting because she commits her time to creating and restoring gardens wherever she goes. She brings life and joy and beauty into the world. Even her scent is a promise of spring:

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. […] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. (acosf)

We also know she is also capable of hearing sound, specifically hearts, through stone. In their conversation about heartbeats, Lucien even wonders if she is speaking to him:

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.” A bramble of words. (acowar)

Was Elain actually speaking to one of the sister peaks, or even Wyrd, during some of this conversation? Her response to Lucien even seems to echo the song of the land: no one had ever truly looked, not really. No one knew what secrets they carried in their heart. This is such a lonely existence. As Elain and Azriel heal the land, I believe they will also heal their own wounds. Feel seen and heard. Understood.

Elain was also wearing a blue cloak in the Illyrian camp. Could that be a hint of her future work with others who wear something similar, like the priestesses who worship Wyrd? She answered her sister’s prayer during the war rather than Wyrd and has led her own sister in prayer before. Is she more priestess—more healer—than warrior, and is that the different sort of strength needed to garden on a larger scale? @willowmeres and I were discussing this the other night: perhaps like Gwydion and TT (which I theorized singing to each other across space), Elain’s rose necklace was called to the library when the priestesses were singing about Wyrd. And because like calls to like, the necklace answered and drew Azriel to the library instead of the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Like her sisters before her, Elain might receive help from priestesses as she hones her vision and gifts. I would scream if this turns out to be true because that necklace is pure Chaos (pun definitely intended).

It’s also possible the priestesses could be helpful in unbinding Void from the Book of Breathings, a book of spells. I doubt this will be a simple matter, however. It might rival the unraveling of Erawan, which required massive raw healing magic. Will the Asteri’s void magic manifest on another plane as Elain battles it with raw healing magic, shining bright as the dawn? Could a dawn ritual help ground her during this battle? And will Azriel, the sisters, the brothers, even priestesses with their healing stones, need to create a living chain to defeat Void and fully restore Wyrd (Chaos) in the end? Will we finally get a glimpse of her, unbound?

Maybe with the help of Azriel and others, Elain will even restore Wyrd—blossoming life—to Ramiel’s sunniest face, the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. And true spring will finally come to her sacred land.

#ramiel #the third sacred sister peak #mysterious as the third blessed sister #healing the land and Wyrd #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel #wyrd #mother cauldron fate #a temple in Hel #nuala and cerridwen #archeron sisters #illyrian brothers #court of dreams #priestesses

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braveclementine · 22 days

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Chapter 2

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💚💚.

Dear Elizabeth, Ron just wrote me to tell me that he and Fred and George are going to try and save Harry. That's the way he put it anyways. I think he just means going and picking him up. I certainly hope they don't do anything dangerous or against the wizarding rules. I'm incredibly busy with homework and studying-I'm sure you're doing the same. I just wrote a letter to Ron saying that I'm going to Diagon Alley next Wednesday. Will you be able to make it? . I'm still waiting to hear back from Ron. I figure we should get our Hogwarts letters sometime this week. Love, Hermione

I sighed, setting aside the letter. Hogwarts again. Now don't get me wrong, I love Hogwarts, it's my home away from home but. . .I closed my eyes, laying down on the bed. I'd nearly been killed three times and had jumped from a window to escape death. I could only imagine what horrible things were going to happen this year.

Knock it off, I scolded myself. You put yourself in that situation, if you had just been as obedient as every other kid, you wouldn't have been in that situation. Just don't do anything stupid or irresponsible this year.

Easier said than done though. I turned away from the letter and went over to the music player, putting on a Beatles record. Then, laying down on my bed, I closed my eyes, thinking, looking into this upcoming year.

My visions worked funny. I can't just see into a year, it's like there's a block on them until I get closer to the actual date. But sometimes- and only sometimes- if I concentrated enough, I could get a farther view.

"I wanna hold your hand. . ."

I concentrated farther. The visions moved fast, some of them melting together and others stood out like pictures on a wall. A sudden image of a young blond man with extravagant clothes was standing in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Then red paint on a wall. Then, water on the floor. A potion bubbling in the bathroom. Then, hissing and-

"ELIZABETH!" Dad called from somewhere downstairs.

I jumped, falling off my bed and knocking over the record player. It crashed to the ground. "Idiot." I muttered, pushing myself up off the ground, getting to my feet. I wasn't entirely sure if I was talking about myself or dad.

Dad appeared in the doorway. He surveyed the damage and then grimaced. "Trying to meditate?"

"Something like that," I muttered, pulling out my wand and pointing it at the record player.

"Elizabeth." Dad's voice had warning in it and I sighed, putting down my wand. Dad pulled out his own wand. "Reparo." He said calmly and the record player was repaired. Then, putting his own wand away, he said, "You know you're not supposed to do magic outside of school."

I picked up the player, putting it on my dresser. I'd just said I was going to stop being a rebel and here I was, already breaking the new found resolution. Maybe I should wait until New Years to make the resolution. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Come on downstairs, we have stuff to talk about." Dad said, leaving the room.

Seeing that there was no choice, I followed. I slumped into a seat at the breakfast table. "What happened?" I asked dully. I had forgotten about going and seeing him when he went up to his room last night.

"I got a erm, new job." Dad said uncomfortably, stirring his tea. I sat up and stared at him, trying to find out what was so bad about this new opportunity.

"Okay. . ." I said slowly, thinking, frowning in concentration.

"I'm going to have to leave next Wednesday." He said, "Which means that I won't be able to transport you to Kings Crossing on September 1st."

"Oh that's okay!" I said immediately. Whatever made things easier for Dad. "Ronald Weasley invited me to stay at his house. We're all planning on meeting up at Diagon Alley next Wednesday anyways. I can just go and stay with him. Or Hermione probably wouldn't mind either."

Dad blinked in surprise. "You didn't tell me your friends asked you to stay over."

I blushed. "Grounded, remember?"

Dad gave me an amused smile. "You're going to stay out of trouble this year, right?"

"Yes, and I'm going to make the Hufflepuff Quidditch team." I said. "So that broom doesn't go to waste."

At that moment, my rabbit Sushi sprinted through the room, did a lap around the table, and then did binkies back into the hallway.

"Awww." I squealed, my whole body tightening up in happiness. "You're so-" Then I stopped, turning to my dad and asked seriously. "Wait, who's going to take care of Sushi?"

Dad chuckled, "You would be worried about that, wouldn't you?" He smoothed my hair back with his hand, "I already asked Trang's parents to watch him. They're delighted."

"Oh good." I said happily, relaxing. "I'm going to go upstairs and pack."

"Already?" Dad asked in surprise.

"Well, I also have to send an answer to Ron and my bedroom's a mess so I need to locate everything." I said, blushing again.

"Oh, that's right." Dad said, taking a sip of tea. "I'll be cooking dinner tonight."

"Aww, dad I can still do that." I said.

Dad waved his hand. "It'll taste fine."

I hesitated. "Wait, no."

Dad frowned. "I don't cook that badly."

I laughed. "It's not that, I want to celebrate this new job opportunity. Come on, I'll take you out to eat."

Dad looked even more surprised than he had before. "Take me out to eat? Where?"

I jumped up and down in joy. "There's this great restaurant that you haven't been to before. It's called Panda Inn here. But in the U.S. it's called Panda Express. Apparently, they're supposed to have this delicious chicken that Trang calls Orange chicken. I've been wanting to try it for a long time now!"

Dad laughed and grinned. "So is this celebration for me or for you to try out your chicken?"

"Guilty." I said, grinning back.

"Oh," Dad said, picking up a piece of mail. "This came for you."

I grabbed it. "My Hogwarts letter!" I flipped it over and glared at him. "It's already open. That's a crime you know."

Dad laughed. "Only if you tell. The books ought to be interesting though."

I read over the list quickly.

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

"I have to get and read all of these?" I asked revolted by the matching of letters like a children's book. "What a waste of money."

I finally got a real laugh out of dad. Then he grinned at me, "Wonder what he wrote about the Werewolves?"

I gave him a reluctant smile. "I'll read that one first and tell you."

"Alright, so go get ready." Dad said, finishing off his tea, "I'll be waiting."

I stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "Dad, it's a Muggle restaurant."

"So?" He looked at me confused.

"You need to go get dressed in Muggle clothes." I said, my lips twitching upwards into an amused smile. I waved a hand at his wizarding robes.

"Oh that's right." He muttered. "Let's see who gets ready the fastest."

I giggled sprinting up the stairs, and I heard a crack in the dining room, telling me he had apparated. "CHEATER!" I shouted, dashing into my bedroom. I heard him laughing from his room.

I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my purse, quickly checking to see how much money I had. I flipped through the bills- £60. Great, that should be enough to cover dinner tonight. I turned out the light and then dashed back downstairs. Yes! I'd beaten dad.

I bit my lip, slightly amused. I was eleven- almost twelve- why was I being so childish? I had this problem a lot. This was something we hadn't done since I was maybe eight. I sighed. Perhaps dad felt bad about leaving, or maybe there was something he wasn't telling me.

Dad popped down next to me with another crack. "Alright you win."

I grinned up at him. I'd question him tonight at dinner. "Let's go."

.💚💚.

𝕴 𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖉 𝖎𝖓 bed, staring up at the ceiling. I kept messing with the ring dad had given me for my birthday. Turning it over, feeling along it. It was a baby dragon ring, sometimes it curled its tail around my finger tighter. Sometimes it moved its head and I felt a little warmth along my palm. It was green, and sparkly, and felt like it was made of glass but it wasn't.

I sighed, rolling over, and carefully placed it on the bedside table. It curled up and I stared at it. I tried to figure out what was nagging me.

I closed my eyes, trying to sleep. Trang was leaving for America tomorrow, I was going to go and see her off at the airport.

I fell into sleep.

A shadowy figure stood on the edge of a large walkway. There were hissing noises and a snake slithered out and reached up to the person's waist. It was an anaconda snake, a type of water snake- native to the Amazon Rainforest in Brazil.

'Dangeroussss thingssss are going to happen. . . more dangerousssss than perhapssss the firsst time. . .' The boy whispered to the snake. He stayed in the shadows so all I could see was that he was tall. So the boy spoke parseltongue? But how could I possibly understand what they were saying? Oh, right, I must be dreaming.

The snake's tongue flicked in and out, 'find the ssssprocket, find the ssink, it all worksss asss well asss you think.'

So snakes could rhyme? Strange.

The boy turned to face me and all I could see were two, glowing red eyes.

I woke up with a start, sweating. I looked over at the clock. It was six in the morning. I slumped back down on my bed. Once my breathing returned back to normal, I climbed out of bed to start my day.

I quickly got dressed for a muggy day- jeans, a T-shirt, and a light rain jacket. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and tucked my locket under my shirt. I hadn't felt it burn in ages, so I felt safe wearing it under my clothes again.

I hesitated, looking at the ring, and finally realized why I felt so weird last night- I hadn't sent Harry anything for his birthday. But, he could definitely still be at his house, I hadn't heard back from Ron yet for confirmation about staying with him next week.

I picked up the dragon ring and put it close to my finger. It curled around it and I smiled. I was going to have to thank Dad again.

I grabbed my purse, put on my leather black combat boots, and ran down the stairs to go see Trang off at the airport.

.💚💚.

𝕭𝖞 𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖉𝖆𝖞, 𝕴 was packed and ready to go. My trunk was full of my Hogwarts robes, quills, ink bottles, and textbooks that I would need this year. Any book I didn't need was left on my bed. Any book I didn't need, but I wanted to bring, were packed in my leather school bag.

Dad had already left an hour ago so I didn't need to worry about good-byes anymore. I dragged my heavy trunk into the fireplace. I pulled my bag over my head, slinging it on my shoulder. I checked my pocket to make sure that my wand was still there.

I checked that I was wearing my locket, bracelet from Fred last Christmas, and my dragon ring. Then, I grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot next to the fireplace and stepped into the fireplace. I threw it down and shouted "Diagon alley!"

I felt the spinning sensation and clutched tightly to my trunk so we'd both get out at the right time. When I saw the grate, I leaned forward and fell out. My trunk clattered down next to me and I quickly set it right side up and started pulling it towards the exit. Damn, why was this thing so freaking heavy?

"Elizabeth! Hey Elizabeth!" I heard my name being shouted by a familiar voice. I turned, a smile on my face.

George and Fred Weasley ran up to me. Their bright red hair was combed back the same way. They were still rather thin and tall.

"Hey guys." I said cheerfully, punching George's arm and smiling at Fred, "What's up?"

"Nothing much." George said, chuckling, punching me back lightly. "You?"

"I'm not looking forward to these stupid books we have to buy." I said with an eye roll. "They're ridiculously expensive and sound incredibly stupid."

Fred and George laughed but looked strained.

"Yeah, they are expensive." Fred said quietly, mostly to himself.

I bit my lip. I shouldn't be complaining. I'd grown up poor, but now I had a huge allowance from my parents. On the other hand, Fred and George had grown up poor and were still poor. I decided to get enough gold out of the bank so they could buy their own sets.

Mr. Weasley got out of the fire next and Fred introduced me to him.

"Harry should be coming next." Mr. Weasley said, when we were done with introductions. I waited eagerly, unable to control my excitement. While Harry didn't know that we were related, I did, and I was glad we were friends.

However, the next person that came out of the fire was Percy Weasley. He looked around as he came up to his father and asked, "Did Harry not come out?"

We all shook our heads. Percy cursed and said, "Harry went before me but he mixed up his words."

We all froze. "So. . . we don't know where he is?" I asked.

Percy nodded. Ron came out of the fire next. I closed my eyes, trying to see if I could find Harry. There- he was in a dark shop, a man with blond hair in the room with him. It looked like Harry was hiding in something. I didn't know exactly where he was, but in the end I could only figure one place like this.

"Elizabeth?" Fred asked. "You okay?"

"Oh, um yeah." I said. I quickly put my trunk up against the wall with other trunks, and locked it. Then I took off, Fred yelling my name behind me. Now which was was Knockturn Alley? I ran down the streets, probably looking crazy.

Then, I ran into Hagrid, who was walking up the streets with Harry.

"Lousy Muggles, If I'd known-" Hagrid was saying. "Careful where yer goin' Elizabeth!" he added as I bounced off of him. He reached out with a large hand and caught me before I fell on the street.

"Thanks Hagrid. Hi Harry!" I beamed.

"Hi Elizabeth." Harry said, smiling back shyly.

I heard a voice behind me saying "Harry! Elizabeth! Over here!"

I turned to see Hermione running down the Gringotts steps. "Hello Elizabeth!" Hermione said, embracing me.

Harry, Hermione, and I walked up the Gringotts steps with Hagrid.

"What happened to your glasses?" Hermione was asking Harry. "Hello, Hagrid- Oh it's wonderful to see you two again- are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?"

"As soon as I've found the Weasleys," Harry said with a grin, giving me a proper hug now that things had settled down.

"Let me see your glasses." I said, holding my hand out.

"Yeh won't have long ter wait." Hagrid said with a grin, pointing down the street.

The three of us peered down the street. Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley were all sprinting up the street towards us. I pulled out my wand and tapped Harry's glasses with my wand. "Reparo." His glasses snapped together and the glass shards connected again.

"Thanks." Harry said, putting his glasses back on.

"Yeh know yer not su'ppose ter be doin' magic outside of school Elizabeth." Hagrid chastised but he was grinning. The Ministry wouldn't know I was doing magic underage considering Diagon Alley was pretty much as magical and non-Muggle as you could get in London.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley said panting, as they caught up to us. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far. . . Molly's frantic- she's coming now-" He mopped his brow with a handkerchief.

"Where'd you turn out?" Ron asked, curious.

"Knockturn Alley." Hagrid said grimly.

"Excellent." Fred, George, and I all said together and then we all grinned at each other.

"We've never been allowed in." Ron said, sounding jealous.

"I should ruddy well think not." Hagrid growled at him.

I saw Mrs. Weasley running up the steps now, a handbag swinging violently from one hand, a little red-headed girl clutching her other hand. That must be Fred's little sister Ginny.

I started walking into Gringotts. I wanted to get the money so that I could get it to Fred and George before they left. Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran up to join me.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked. That must've been the store that I'd seen him in.

"Lucius Malfoy?" I asked.

"Yeah, and Draco." Harry said, giving me a surprised.

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Mr. Weasley asked from behind us.

"No, he was selling-" Harry said.

"So he's worried. Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something. . ." Mr. Weasley said slowly and with some sort of satisfaction.

I didn't know Lucius Malfoy, but if he was anything like his son, than he was probably an evil git. Plus, I was fairly certain that he had been a Death Eater. By fairly certain I meant 100%. Oh the things rich people get away with.

We entered Gringotts and I told Harry and Ron to come with me. Ron was more than willing and we left Hermione in the main hall with her parents, who were exchanging Muggle Money for Wizarding coins. Mrs. Weasley went her separate way with Ginny.

We went to Harry's vault first. He had quite a bit of money, though perhaps a bit less than I did. Then we went to my vault. I filled two bags and then we went back up to the surface. I gave Ron half of one of the bags and winked at him and then went off to join Fred and George. I heard Ron sputtering behind me and Harry laughing.

Fred, George, and I met up with Lee Jordan outside the bank. I heard Mrs. Weasley shout from behind us. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!"

Fred, George, and I laughed. That was the first place we visited. Fred and George went down two steps, Lee went down three. I went down the entire way and then sprinted back up. It became a competition until someone appeared at the end of the corridor and we all sprinted the entire way back towards Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop.

We relaxed, laughing.

"Mum's going to kill us if she finds out." George muttered, looking through the different types of fireworks.

"She's not going to find out." I said pleasantly. "So don't worry about it."

"Oh yeah, Ron says that you're coming to stay with us for the last couple weeks of vacation." Fred said, "Is that true?"

I nodded, "Yeah, my dad got a new work assignment and he had to leave today, so I had no way to get to Hogwarts later. So, since Ron had already invited me to stay, I accepted."

Ron, Hermione, and Harry came into the shop some time later, when we were about to leave. I wandered off on my own for a little bit, buying parchment and new quills. I also bought different types of ink. I was really going to miss my Muggle pens again this year.

I met up with Fred, George, Lee, Hermione, Ron, and Harry as we made our way to Flourish and Blotts. There were many other people trying to get into the shop. I looked at all the witches, a little amused, a little annoyed, cause there were not many wizards.

There was a banner in the window saying:

GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist." She smoothed her hair between her hands. It was a battle lost before she started it- her hair was never going to stop being bushy on its own.

I hung back with Fred, George, and Lee, internally groaning. Bloody hell, what a mess this was. I probably wouldn't be able to check the shelves for extra books because the walls would be crowded by witches. Maybe the owner would have some put away specially for me like he sometimes did when he thought I'd like something. Dad and I were his best customers.

We squeezed inside, past the adults. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I each grabbed the Grade 2 book we needed off the stack by the door. Fred, George, and Lee each got books that they needed for their fourth year.

We went to stand next to the Weasley's and Grangers. I found myself next to Harry and turned to talk to him.

"How was your summer?"

"Could've been better." He said. "Honestly, I would've written back."

I grinned. "Oh I know, Dobby stopped you?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" He asked in surprise.

"I know a lot of things." I said quickly. "But I actually just overheard you telling Hagrid."

Harry laughed.

At that moment, Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view and seated himself at a long table. There were many portraits of his face, winking and flashing on the table. The real man himself was wearing robes of light blue that matched his eyes. His hair was wavy and he wore a wizard's hat at an angle so not to mess up those waves. I stared at him with a mixture of horror and also giddiness.

He was extremely handsome though, I did have to admit that. I felt my cheeks grow red and I rubbed them, cursing internally. Stupid female hormones.

There was a short man wearing black and brandishing a black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash that emitted a smell of apricots. The reporter stepped backwards onto Ron's foot. "Get out of the way." The photographer snarled. "This is for the Daily Prophet-"

"Big Deal." Ron snarled back, holding his foot and rubbing it.

Lockhart apparently heard their interaction because he looked up at Ron. Then he moved his eyes along our line, eyeing Harry and then me. He leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

"Oh bloody hell." I muttered as everyone in the store started whispering even more excitedly than they had moments ago when Lockhart had appeared.

The crowd parted as Lockhart walked down the stairs towards us. He grabbed Harry's arm and then, to my surprise, grabbed my arm as well, dragging us both up to the front of the room. I looked back at Fred, panicking. He looked just as surprised as I did.

Lockhart put one arm around each of our shoulders. I didn't smile as the photographer took pictures. "Nice big smile, Harry." Lockhart said through his own teeth. I didn't dare look at him in case the newspaper made my action out to be something other than disgust or confusion. As it was, I was panicking.

He didn't let us go when the pictures were done and I was starting to get strangely uncomfortable. "Ladies and gentlemen." He said loudly and the crowd quieted down. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry and his sister here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they only wanted to buy my autobiography- which I shall be happy to present them now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded, but I risked a glance at Harry. He looked at me, looking as confused as I was. The only difference being that my heart was pounding like crazy. Did Lockhart know somehow? I mean, surely not? I looked at the Weasleys. They were looking back and forth between Harry and I. The crowd was whispering. This was a complete nightmare. I should never have come. That seemed to be my signature line.

"They had no idea-" Lockhart continued, not caring about anything else but his little announcement. "that they would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. They and their schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

I groaned out loud but no one could hear me for the explosion of noise that burst in the bookshop. I wanted to die of embarrassment. I found myself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart, even more books than I needed for school.

I struggled back down to the Weasleys, Harry following me. I handed the books to Fred. "Keep them, I don't want them. Especially since he gave them to me for an incorrect reason."

"So you're not really my sister?" Harry asked behind me, and thankfully he was grinning.

I shook my head, my heart breaking that I couldn't tell him that I was. "I don't know why he thought that, we don't even look alike."

The Weasleys all seemed to accept this, but the others in the shop that had overheard were not as convinced and rumors were spreading. I was sure something was going to make the headlines. Bloody hell.

Harry tipped his books into Ginny's cauldron, telling her she could have his books. He'd buy his own. We went up and bought our books and then waited by Ginny's cauldron. I handed George money so that he could buy his own set. When Lee had his set, we all started to walk towards the back of the shop.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Said a sneering voice. We looked up to see Draco Malfoy and I tightened my grip on my huge stack of books. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Ginny said suddenly. I'd never heard her voice before but she had such a sweet voice.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Malfoy drawled, giving Ginny a look over.

"Shut the hell up Malfoy." I snarled.

"Oh Kane." Malfoy said, sneering. "How'd you like being compared to someone as pathetic as Potter?"

"I would be quite proud to be Harry's sister." I said, speaking the truth for once on the subject of our sibling hood.

Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both of them clutching stacks of books.

"Oh, it's you." Ron said, giving Malfoy a disgusted look. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

For a moment I was confused and then I remembered that they believed Dobby was the House Elf of the Malfoys. Of course, they were right, but I wasn't going to tell them that.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley." Malfoy retorted, looking a bit confused himself. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron went as red as Ginny and dropped his books into her cauldron. She nearly dropped the cauldron under the weight of two stacks of Lockhart books. Hermione and Harry reached out and grabbed the back of Ron's shirt as he went to hit Draco.

Fred and George were giving Malfoy an angry look. I touched Fred's hand softly and looked up at him and shook my head. It wasn't worth it. Lee was looking angry too, his arms crossed.

"Ron! Fred! George!" Mr. Weasley said struggling through the crowd to get to the back of the store. I felt my stomach drop, seeing a small glimpse of what was about to happen. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

Now, I tugged on Fred's arm, trying to get us to leave before. . .

"Well, well, well- Arthur Weasley." A tall man with long blond hair and piercing gray-blue eyes was standing there now. He could almost be called handsome in his own way if he didn't have such a cruel, smirking look on his face. I felt my cheeks grow red again, the way they had when looking at Lockhart. Hm, maybe there was something wrong with me today. But he was quite good-looking. I supposed even bad people could look good.

"Lucius." Mr. Weasley said, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids. . . I hope they're paying you overtime?"

I gritted my teeth as he reached into Ginny's cauldron and picking out an extremely battered second-hand copy of her Transfiguration book.

"Obviously not." Mr. Malfoy said, his lip curled upwards. Draco stood to the side, smirking. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Fred and George gave a start and I grabbed both of them by the arms. My bag with all my books was cutting into my shoulder. Lee helped me out, restraining them. Mr. Weasley flushed a dark red. Mrs. Weasley, and the Grangers started coming over.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." Mr. Weasley said under his breath.

"Like you." I piped up, giving him a jaunty smile.

Mr. Malfoy's gaze flicked over to me, and Draco dropped his smile. Fred smiled and relaxed. I no longer felt a reason to restrain him anymore.

Then, Malfoy's eyes flicked over to where Mr. and Mrs. Granger were standing, watching the whole occurrence with Mrs. Weasley, who looked extremely nervous. "Clearly," Mr. Malfoy said, narrowing his eyes at the Grangers. Hermione blushed red and Mrs. Granger took a step back and shot a terrified look at her husband. "The company you keep, Weasley. . .and I thought your family could sink no lower-"

Hermione flushed even darker than the rest of us, and there was a thud as Ginny's cauldron went flying. I ducked to avoid it, Lee quickly pulling me out of the way.

Multiple people were yelling. Fred and George were yelling "Get him Dad!"; Draco was yelling, "Get your filthy hands off of him!"; Mrs. Weasley was shouting "No, Arthur, no!"; The assistant was shouting, "Gentlemen, please- please, the books!"

Then there was a louder voice, not yelling, but louder and much calmer saying, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up-"

Hagrid waded through the crowd and he pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart from each other, holding them each in one hand. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had a bruised eye. He was still holding Ginny's Transfiguration book. He thrusted it back in her cauldron, his eyes glittering with malice and an image flashed in my mind of a little black book.

Without another word, he pulled himself from Hagrid's grip and tried to march out the bookstore with dignity. Well! That wasn't happening. Pulling my wand I quickly whispered, "Offendo." Lucio's Malfoy tripped over his own two feet and fell flat on his face. There was some tittering and laughter from the crowd. Draco looked back and glared at me. I smiled and waved and turned my back on him. I slipped my wand back up my sleeve.

We were leaving now, with the urging of Hagrid. I trailed behind the rest of the group with Lee. Hermione was with her parents, Harry was with Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys were crowded around their parents. Lee and I walked in silence until we were about to part.

"I saw that tripping jinx." Lee said with a smile. "Nice work, I'm going to find a lot of hard spells this year for you to try."

I smiled back, "Thanks Lee. Have a great rest of your vacation."

I waved and hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. We were going to leave through the Leaky Cauldron instead of the Floo station. I went to get my trunk and then met up with the others in Leaky Cauldron.

We said good-bye to the Grangers and Hermione. I decided, as I stepped into the fireplace, that I could wait for Hogwarts to start. Who didn't like a nice vacation?

⬅️➡️

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