✯ CHAPTER NINE ✯
❝I wish I had a Mum.❞
December 16th, 1991.
CHRISTMAS WAS COMING very quickly, and soon enough, the Hogwarts grounds were covered with a thick layer of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.
No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms.
Professor McGonagall had come round one day and made a list of the Gryffindor students who would be staying at Hogwarts throughout the Christmas break. Not many people signed themselves up, only Estella, Harry and the Weasleys -- who were staying at Hogwarts because their parents were away visiting Charlie in Romania.
It was the last day of term now, and Estella, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all just leaving Potions when they found a fir tree blocking the pathway out of the dungeons. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.
"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose -- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to. "
Angry that someone was speaking so horribly about her friend, Estella dived towards Draco, just as Snape was walking up the stairs.
"LUPIN!"
Estella let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
"She was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' Ron's family. She was only defending him."
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Lupin, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.
"I'll get him," Estella sneered as she watched Malfoy's back. "One day, I'll get him -- just like I did Parkinson. I don't care what my Dad has to say about it!"
"I hate them both," said Harry. "Malfoy and Snape."
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."
So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.
"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree -- put it in the far corner, would you?"
The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.
"How many days is there until the holidays?" Hagrid asked.
"I go home tomorrow," said Hermione. "And that reminds me -- Harry, Ron, Estella, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."
"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.
"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"
"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."
Nicholas Flamel was a name that had been mentioned by Hagrid when Estella wasn't there -- however she'd heard all about it. It all had stuff to do with whatever that dog was guarding, Nicholas Flamel was involved in it and researching him would probably give the first years a hint as to what it was.
"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here -- I've told yeh -- drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."
"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere -- just give us a hint -- I know I've read his name somewhere."
"I'm sayin' nothin', said Hagrid flatly.
"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
25th December, 1991.
Unfortunately, that day in the library none of them had any luck looking through the books -- and they hadn't made much progress even a week later. Estella, Harry and Ron had made an agreement with Hermione that they'd keep researching while she was away, however probably due to the fact that they were having too much of a good time, they didn't really approach the library much at all.
Now, it was Christmas day, and Estella woke up bright and early, filled with the excitement and joy of knowing what day of the year it was.
There was a small pile of presents at the end of her bed, and she took these up to the boys dormitories with her, not wanting to open them all on her own -- that would be a bit miserable.
Ron and Harry were already awake, although it was clear on their faces that they'd only just got up. They were both still lying in bed -- their eyes barely open.
"Morning," she said, shutting the door behind her and sitting on the floor. "Oh, and Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.
"You, too," said Harry to them both. "Would you look at this? I've got presents!"
"What were you expecting, turnips?" asked Estella, looking down at her own pile, which was slightly bigger than Harry's but not quite as big as Ron's.
Estella opened her first present -- a beautiful pearl necklace from Remus. It wrapped around her neck and dangled slightly down her chest, and at the end of the pearl chain there was a rose red heart, outlined by a stunning golden colour. She hoped this hadn't cost her Father too much -- the Lupin's weren't exactly the richest.
Remus also got her some of her favourite muggle sweets -- mars bars, chocolate orange and smarties, to be specific. She had tried these at separate times while out in muggle London, and had been in love with the taste of them ever since.
After opening everything from her Father, Estella moved on to a bigger and more lumpy package. Ron seemed to give her a bit of a knowing look when he saw it.
"I think I know who that one's from," he said. "And that one --" he motioned over to Harry, who was holding a parcel identical to Estella's, "My Mum. I told her, Harry, that you weren't expecting any presents, and that you, Estella, were stuck here for Christmas and -- oh, no," he groaned. "She's made you both a Weasley sweater."
Estella tore apart the packaging of the parcel and found a thick, hand-knitted sweater in crimson red and a large box of homemade fudge. She made a mental note to thank Mrs Wealey for this if she ever saw her.
"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron. "And mines always maroon."
"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge.
"Yeah," Estella nodded. Then she added, in an undertone so that neither of the boys would hear her: "I wish I had a Mum."
It wasn't that Remus wasn't good to her -- no, no, no, she wouldn't exchange her Godfather for the world. It was just that sometimes she wished she had some sort of female influence in her life...because as amazing as Remus was, he wasn't a woman. He knew hardly anything about the female body, and he had never been very good at doing pretty, girly hairstyles on Estella as she grew up. The best he could do was loose braids.
Sometimes the young Gryffindor wished she just had some sort of Mother figure who could help her grow up.
However, she couldn't dwell on this for long, as quite suddenly whatever Harry and Ron were doing stole all of her attention.
Harry was holding something fluid and silvery grey, that went drooping down to the floor. Estella thought she recognised it -- it looked like an invisibility cloak.
Ron was obviously thinking the same thing. He gasped.
"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is -- they're really rare, and really valuable."
Estella nodded at him. It seemed they definitely were on the same page here.
"What is it?"
Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor.
"It's an invisibility cloak," said Estella, a look of awe on her face. "Well, at least I think it is, anyway."
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron and Estella both gave a yell.
"It is! Look down!"
As Harry looked down, his feet were gone -- the only thing now visible was his head.
"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"
Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:
Your father left this in my possession before he died.
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.
"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"
"Nothing," said Harry. Estella could tell he was lying, but she didn't push him into saying anything.
Even if she'd wanted to, however, she wouldn't have had the chance...As just at that moment, the dormitory door swung open and Fred and George came bounding in. Estella saw Harry stuff the cloak out of sight -- and, honestly, she couldn't blame him. The twins would go crazy if they saw something like that.
"Merry Christmas!"
"Hey, look -- Harry and Estella have got a Weasley sweater, too!"
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.
"Both better than ours," said Fred, analysing the two first years' sweaters. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."
"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."
"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid -- we know we're called Gred and Forge."
"Funny," Estella muttered, sarcastically. "You're both so hilarious."
"Thank you, Lupin."
"I was joking."
"What's all this noise?"
Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.
"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Estella got one."
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
Estella couldn't sleep. She didn't know if it was due to all the excitement she had felt with it being Christmas, or the fact that she just wasn't tired, but the young Gryffindor was lying wide awake in her bed.
She didn't know what to do -- it felt like she had been lying there for hours, and to be honest, she probably had.
Reading was something that had always helped Estella with falling asleep, and she remembered now that she was halfway through a very interesting book about dragons and needed to finish it quickly as it was a library book, and soon due to be returned.
She rolled over to her bedside table to grab it, only to remember that she'd left it in the common room. Estella decided she would just go down and get it.
As she entered the common room, however, she heard footsteps -- which was strange considering she couldn't see anyone, even with the lights on. This is when she remembered what Harry had received as a present just that very morning.
"Harry..." she whispered. "I know you're there."
"Estella? What are you doing awake? Go back to bed!"
"If you have to know, I was getting my book," Estella explained. "I can't sleep and reading always helps with that. Now, what are you doing?"
"I don't even know," Harry stated, sighing. "I just want to explore the castle a bit, under my cloak. You should go back to bed!"
"Are you joking?" Estella asked, excitedly rushing over to her friend. "I'm coming with you!"
"No, you're not."
The young girl pouted. "Why not? There's enough room for both of us under the cloak."
"Because, I don't want you to, Estella. Just...go get some sleep."
"I can't, Harry. I can't get to sleep. I told you this."
Harry sighed in defeat, then raised the cloak up slightly so that Estella could fit underneath. She giggled and squeezed in.
"Fine," said Harry, "You can come. But don't make any noise, and stay under the cloak at all times. Let's go."
Together, the two first years crept across the common room and climbed through the portrait hole.
"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Neither of them said anything. They walked quickly down the corridor.
They continued walking for a little while, neither of them saying a word to eachother. It was only when Harry stopped sharply that Estella looked at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"We should go to the restricted section of the library," the boy whispered. "There might be some stuff about Nicholas Flamel in there, and this is the only time we'll ever get in."
Estella nodded in agreement, and off they went.
The library was dark and eerie. Harry lit a lamp so that the two of them could see their way along the rows of books -- and there was loads of rows, all sorted into categories and alphabetical order.
The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, Harry held up the lamp to make it easier for them to read the titles.
They had pretty much no luck, once again. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages neither of the first years could understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood.
Suddenly, Estella got a very tight knot in her stomach. There was a faint whispering sound coming from somewhere -- she could hear it, and so, it seemed, could Harry.
He didn't care though. Instead of trying to figure out what the suspicious noise was, he picked up a book, balanced it on his knee, and let it fall open.
Huge mistake.
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence -- the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over the lamp, which went out at once.
"Run," said Estella, as she had just now heard footsteps coming from outside. "Grab the invisibility cloak and let's go!"
They ran for it, passing Filch in the doorway. The caretaker's pale, white face, looked right through them, so Harry and Estella squeezed under his outstretched arm and sprinted down the corridor. The shriek of the book was still ringing in Estella's ears.
They came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. They had been so busy getting away from the library, they hadn't paid attention to where they were going. Perhaps because it was dark, Estella didn't recognize where they were at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, she knew, but they must be five floors above there.
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section," came Filch's voice, suddenly.
Harry went pale, and Estella burned with anger as she heard Snape reply. "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
Harry and Estella stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see them, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into the pair of them -- the cloak didn't stop them from being solid, unfortunately.
The two first years backed away into an empty room on their left. The door had been open and it seemed like their only hope. As they entered the room, they heard Filch and Snape's footsteps drifting away, and let out a sigh of relief.
The room looked like an old and unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket -- but propped against the wall facing them was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
"What is that?" Estella whispered to Harry. "And why is everything in a different language today?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know, it just looks like a mirror to me, let me step in front of it and have a look."
He did exactly this, and Estella immediately saw him clap his hands to his mouth, inevitably in shock.
"Mum?" he said after a few minutes. "Dad?"
"What?" the young Black's eyes widened. "Harry, what are you saying?"
"I see my parents," said Harry, sounding both happy and sad at the same time. "Come and look."
Confused, Estella stepped infront of the mirror to see for herself. She did not see Harry's parents, however, but she did see something that in her opinion was ten times worse. Tears started to spill out of her eyes.
"Estella..." Harry muttered, noticing her. "What's the matter? Are you okay?"
"Can we leave, Harry?"
"But I -- I want to look at my parents for longer..."
"I want out of here. Let me leave."
"Estella...can you just tell me what's wrong? What did you see?"
"Not your parents, but some other stuff. I'd rather not talk about it, if that's okay. Now can we go?"
Harry nodded, slowly, throwing the invisibility cloak back over the both of them and hurrying out of the room.
Estella wished she had never come out with Harry now, or looked in that mirror at the very least. She had seen a man who she had assumed was her Father, wrapping her arms around her as if he actually loved her. On the other side of them stood Remus, his arm also around Estella. She didn't understand what the mirror had meant.
As soon as the two students arrived back at the common room, Estella turned to look at Harry, a few tears still running down her face.
"Can I sleep in you and Ron's dorm tonight?" she asked, shyly. "I really don't feel like being on my own."
"Sure," said Harry. "Come on."
"Thank you."
Estella didn't sleep much at all that night. She was too busy lying awake, thinking about what she had
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