The little girl looked from the woman’s glazed eyes to the blood seeping through her shirt where her heart was. “Mommy?” she whimpered. She put her small hands on her left shoulder and shook her, barely making her move. “Mommy, please wake up.” Why was her mother lying on the floor like this? It was past bedtime. The girl looked almost like the victim, but with lighter hair. Clear blue eyes stared at the blind ones, willing them to look normal. “Mommy…” Her bottom lip wobbled, and she wiped her hand across her nose, sucking back snot. She looked up at the man in the shadows, cradling the weapon in his large hands.
“Daddy, why won’t Mommy wake up?” asked the little girl. The man didn’t answer. “Daddy?”
“Lara, go to your room,” whispered the man; his words were slurred a little. “Now.” When she didn’t move, he pointed the gun at her. One clear shot rang out, and she blacked out.
When she woke, she didn’t open her eyes. She was scared and confused. Where had her dad gone? Had her mom woken up yet? She felt a throbbing pain in her right shoulder, which was very stiff, and heard hushed voices talking. If she listened hard enough, the little girl could understand them.
“She shouldn’t have survived a shot like that,” whispered one, a woman’s voice.
“At least the man was caught,” answered another, a man this time. “He’ll be away for a long time. Poor girl, lost both her parents in the same night.”
“Any relatives?” came the woman’s voice again.
“Grandparents, on the mother’s side,” came a new voice, a man’s, but lighter and not as gruff as the first. “I’m still wondering how she survived…most other children that age would be dead like that.” She heard him snap his fingers. “It’s like… magic.”
Magic. She opened her eyes to look at the doctors at the end of her bed. “My mommy does magic,” she said.
The woman looked at her like she was crazy, but sympathetic. “Can your daddy do magic?” she asked, coming to her right side.
She shook her head. “No. He drinks a lot, though. He doesn’t like it when Mommy uses her stick, and he calls her a freak when she does.”
The woman glanced at her companions. One was older than the other two, with a long beard and bright blue eyes. He beckoned the female doctor over, whispered something to them both, and they left. She was left alone with the bearded man.
“My name’s Al,” he said, pulling a stool over and sitting down. “What’s your name?”
“Lara. Is my mommy awake?”
Al looked uncomfortable, shifting on his seat. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid not, Lara. She…she’s going to be asleep for a long time. Your grandparents are going to take care of you instead.”
“Where’s my daddy?”
More uncomfortable shifting, then, “He’s going away for a while, too. He did something very bad tonight.” Before her eyes Al became her father once more, large, overbearing, and scary. She shrank back against her pillow, now a wall of some kind. The barrel of a gun was forced into her face, and it was shot.
I woke up screaming, clutching my right shoulder, panting and sweating. At first I couldn’t see; then my eyes adjusted to the darkness. My heart thumped against my chest, and I half expected to see blood coming out of my shoulder when I looked down. My father’s face loomed in my mind”the high cheekbones, the dark blue eyes, and the stubble he never bothered to shave off. The way he looked the night my mom died in cold blood.
I heard a knock on my door. “Lara?” came Ginny’s voice. She poked her head through the door after she opened it a crack; light flooded the room, making me squint. “You alright? I heard a scream.”
“Yeah.” I took my hand from my shoulder rather quickly to cover my eyes from the light and smiled nervously. “I’m fine. Bad dream.” I pushed Spotty off my legs so that I could get up. She meowed in her sleep, and then curled up on the floor and she was asleep again. “What time is it?” I yawned, prodding my cat with my foot as I swung my legs over. If I had to wake up, she had to, too.
“Six thirty,” answered Ginny. She was already dressed in a sweater and slacks, with her hair neatly combed out. I groaned in disbelief.
“What is up with you people waking up so damn early?” I moaned. Ginny laughed, though concern still clouded her bright brown eyes.
“Come on, then, wakey-wakey!” she giggled. “The boys are already downstairs. And Dad wants you to check on Fred and George when you’re ready, they should be up by now.”
“Sure he didn’t say you?” I said as I rummaged through my trunk. Where was that shirt?
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just do it for me, alright? I need to get Mum to conjure up something for Hermione.” She gave me a meaningful look, and I answered with, “Oh.” She whirled out of sight around the corner.
With another yawn I flicked on my own light. I looked back to the trunk to find Spotty inside, purring and rolling around in my clothes.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Spotty jumped up, smoothing down ruffled chest fur.
“Nothing,” came her meow of hurt dignity. I hid my snort of laughter behind my hand. Quickly I got dressed as I remembered the purpose of today. I finally found that shirt”a pink one that said, “Good girls finish first”, with fresh white fur all over it”and grabbed a pair of jeans from underneath my cat. I was just in time for the bathroom. I said good morning to Ron, who waved a little as he came out, and went in.
It doesn’t take me long to get ready, unlike other girls. I brushed out my hair, brushed my teeth (I hate that yucky taste in it after I wake up), changed, and went out again, heading upstairs. The twins slept in a room upstairs”they helped teach me in an extra-curricular activity, pranking”and were experimenting all the time. But instead of knocking on their door”knowing them, they’d still be asleep when I got back”I went past it. I wanted to do something before we left.
I walked up the stairs as quietly as I could; the higher I got, the more they creaked. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door at the end of the hall.
“Who’s there?” came a sort of half-squawk, half-hiss.
“It’s Lara, Buckbeak,” I said. “Can I come in?”
There was some moving around”I’m lucky I saw Sirius go downstairs for breakfast, or else I’m sure I’d be in trouble”and finally I was admitted. Buckbeak’s eye glinted mysteriously as I bowed.
“Enough of that,” he whistled. “It’s amusing, but you’ve bowed already.” His voice wasn’t gravely like I expected, but soft and musical, with a faint hint of Highland accent thrown in. I took a step in and sat down, leaning against the wall. The door stayed open, reminding me faintly of another book.
“I need you to explain something for me,” I said carefully. He tore a gap in Malfoy’s arm; I wasn’t taking any chances. “A hippogriff is like a griffin in many ways, and griffins are said to wise.”
“I don’t need to do anything,” snapped Buckbeak, and then continued on smugly, “But you are correct about us being cousins with the griffins of the North, and us being wise.” I sighed at his vanity and asked again, with an ‘I would like’.
“Shoot.” I explained my situation about talking with Spotty and hearing him before that, and saw a calculated look come into his eye. After a moment of thought, he said, “Well…it has to do with the ingredients you put into that potion, and what you ate beforehand, if I am remembering correctly.” He propped his beak on a sharp claw, pondering. “See, it’s simple math. Add the variant of the number of your ingredients in the potion to the variant of the ingredients in what you ate before, subtracting your amount time with animals and adding your time with humans…waiting, that was adding your time with animals and subtracting your time with humans, then dividing it by how much potion ended up in your beak, or mouth in your case, and multiplying by how much potion there was.”
I was thoroughly confused by this point. “That’s simple?” I said, mouth agape. “I thought Algebra one was hard!”
“Humans were always slower than us hippogriffs,” scoffed Buckbeak. I could’ve slapped the smugness off his face, it was so plain! If I wanted to lose the hand I slapped him with. “What I’m saying is that it’s temporary. For how long, I don’t know. And I assume, being humans, you cleaned up afterwards?” I nodded. “The fat woman always liked a clean house, took right over when they got here--”
“Mrs. Weasley is not fat!”
“Didn’t say she was.”
I could tell my face was red; why did creatures always have to have attitudes? “You just did!” I groaned. “Never mind. So you’re saying that I won’t always be able to talk to you?”
“Yes,” answered Buckbeak. “Your ability doesn’t seem to have any limitations”a mortal animal and a magical animal being able to hold a conversation with you is proof”though I would keep it a secret, especially to the Snake.”
“The Snake?” I questioned.
“One of their idiotic professors, a member of the Order,” supplied the hippogriff. “Severus Snape. He came up here one day”I scared him off with a screech. Of course, he’d be suspicious now, but it was fun to see him scamper down the stairs like a mouse!” He squawked in laughter. I found myself laughing at the image of Snape”stoic, strict Snape”running down the stairs scared of one shriek!
“Any other questions?” quipped Buckbeak after our laughter subsided.
I stood up, dusting off my jeans. “None that come to mind. Thanks, Buckbeak.” I stroked him on the beak, feeling a purr resonate throughout his body, and left to go check on Fred and George.
I knocked on their door when I didn’t hear anything. “Fred! George! Time to get up!” I screamed at it. Two neat red heads poked out when the door opened, and I rolled my eyes when both of them started talking, finishing one-another’s sentences.
“We’ve been up, Lara--”
“Making improvements to some new inventions, see? Though the Pasties--”
“”Aren’t going so well. Mind helping us?”
“We’d appreciate it greatly!”
“You sound like--”
“”Our mother when you yell, or Ginny.”
“She sounds more like Ginny, Fred.”
“I think she sounds like mum, George!”
I smiled at them. But, right now, there were other more important things. “Only if you don’t want to go to Diagon Alley,” I interrupted. “Your dad wants you two down for breakfast, we’re leaving soon.”
Fred looked up at George”or did George look up at Fred? ”and they grinned. “Tell Dad we’ll be right down,” they chorused, and slammed the door. My upper lip rolled up to touch my nose in aggravation before I calmed down and went downstairs.
*~*~*~
Something prodded me in the side; I shot up for the second time, looking around wildly.
“Lara, calm down!” said Hermione. “It’s just us. We’re at the Leaky Cauldron.”
The car we were in”another Ministry car”had stopped its long drive from Grimmauld Place to London. It was probably shorter, but I had fallen asleep, as usual. Trips of any sort never suited me well. I yawned and looked around. Hermione had poked her head into the car when I hadn’t followed her and the others out.
I gave her a small smile and ran my hands down my jeans as I stepped out. The Leaky Cauldron didn’t look like a very well kept pub, as I watched Ron and a rather moody Harry step through. Another lady I hadn’t noticed had joined us, an older lady with slightly purple gray hair.
The reason Harry was so moody”mad, if you will”had surfaced just before we left: Ron and Hermione had been made Prefects for Gryffindor. Having been told hardly anything thus far that summer, Harry took it personally. I had heard his yells when I went down after checking on Fred and George.
My attention swerved once again to the old lady. Her gray shawl was wound around a stooped frame and faded purple dress. She winked at me, and I backed up into Hermione.
“It’s alright,” said Hermione. “Get through the door so she can change back.”
I obeyed, and watched in the dim light as the old lady became a fairly pretty young woman with bubble-gum pink hair. She held out her hand, and I took it. “Nymphadora Tonks,” she said. “Just Tonks, though. Only my mother calls me Nymphadora.”
I blinked as she shook my hand and introduced herself. “I’m Lara Winston,” I managed to say. “It’s nice to meet you, Tonks. What did you…?”
“I’m a metamorphmagus,” she answered before I could finish my question. “I can change my appearance at will.” She screwed up her face and promptly changed the shape of her nose to have a pointier end. That was so cool, to be able to change your appearance! But before I could comment further, I was being dragged along through the close to capacity bar through the back door. It turned out to be Ginny, who let go of my shirt once we were outside. Tonks followed us into the small courtyard”if it could be called that”and I watched as Mr. Weasley, who had taken time off work to accompany us, tap the apparently solid brick wall with his wand in several places.
I smiled at the memory of Hagrid tapping out the pattern going into Diagon Alley. I stared at the wall as it rearranged itself, bricks grating against each other. Then my jaw dropped.
So many people! So many shops! I never imagined Diagon Alley to be so big! Mr. Weasley strode out purposefully through the brightly dressed crowds, his wife and children following with Harry, Hermione, and I at the rear. I ended up being dragged along several times when I stopped to look at candy, then robes, and then the brooms”oh, how I wanted one then and there! The glossy wood shown in the cases; broom ends bristled, begging me to get on and ride them. But then I remembered my fear of heights, and my heart dropped.
I recomposed myself as Hermione came to get me with a sharp, “Come on!” There was one thing I wanted to do at Hogwarts”conquer my fear of heights. I will get a broom, and I will ride it!
Just…not when everyone was looking.
“First stop, Gringotts!” called Mr. Weasley. The Wizard’s Bank was up ahead”it’s a massive white marble building, you can’t miss it if you come right out of Knockturn Alley. As everyone else went through the front doors, watched by a goblin dressed in scarlet and gold, I stayed behind to read what glinted on the bronze surface:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
a treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
of finding more than treasure there.
I shivered and hurried to catch up, going through the next set of doors and two more guard-goblins, my shoes making squeaking sounds on the polished floor. Goblins were everywhere”they didn’t look too pretty, either. Most had scruffs of hair and scraggly beards, and worked hard at writing in ledgers with long-fingered hands. I caught up as Mr. Weasley was saying to one of the goblins,
“Vaults eight hundred and twenty three, nine hundred and fifty seven, and five hundred and fifty four, please.” He handed him three small, old-fashion keys, one of which he took from Harry. “And, while, we’re here, Harry, we’ll visit your vault. Six hundred and eighty seven, if you please, Griphook?”
The goblin nodded. “If Ms. Lara Winston has her key,” he said, looking at me. It made my skin crawl. I managed a despondent, “Uh…”
“Here it is.” A man came out of nowhere, holding another key. He was tall, with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. He also had a fang earring in one ear”how cool is that? “We had it in storage, Dad. I’ll take them down, Griphook, I’ve finished all my work.”
With a grunt the goblin left, and I was pushed to the front to shake hands with this newcomer. “I’m Bill,” he said. “You must be Lara.”
“That’s me,” I answered with a smile. Bill was kind of cute, and that earring had me hooked. “I’m sorry if I seem ignorant, but…I have a vault? Neither of my parents did--” My mommy does magic. I clenched my shoulder as fire shot through the scar hidden underneath the skin.
“Are you alright, Lara?” I heard Ron say. I realized that I had closed my eyes; I opened that and managed a half-smile at the boy. “Y-yeah…I’m fine.” My hand dropped to my side. Today’s torture came in the form of memories; how lovely.
“Well, then, follow me!” Bill led the way down through one of the many guarded doors and scarlet-and-gold clad goblins. The slope beyond was a steep downward climb. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dark, and just when they did I almost ran into a cart. With a nervous laugh I righted myself and backed up to take a good look. It ran on tracks, going each way, up and down. We were on a type of platform, and when I looked down, I could see that the tunnel extended down. Way down. I gulped.
Remember my fear of heights? Well, that just grew a couple of inches.
We crowded into two of the cars and started our way down. The cars had a goblin each, both looking very serious or daydreaming. Somehow I can’t see them daydreaming.
First was my vault”five hundred and fifty four. This came as a surprise to me”my parents had never been rich, or very good with money, since my dad used almost all of it to drink, and this is just with Muggle money. How could my mom have made enough Wizarding money to put in a vault?
The goblin stepped out of the car. “Lamp, please,” he said with a very nasal-sounding voice. Mr. Weasley handed it to him and stepped out, motioning for me to follow. After scrambling over a few people and squishing a few toes, I practically jumped to the stone walkway. It was a long way down if I missed, I concluded.
“Key, please,” said the goblin. He exchanged the lamp for my key and put it in the slot. I closed my eyes as the door swung open, scared of what I would find in there. It wouldn’t be like Harry’s vault, with a whole bunch of money, but would it be like the Weasleys’ vault, with almost no money at all?
“Lara, you can look,” said Mr. Weasley in a hushed tone, “it’s not that bad.”
I opened my eyes to slits, and they slowly widened as they took in the sight of those piles of gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts. It wasn’t as much as Harry’s vault, but it was sure something! I took slow steps inward and knelt down. There was a silk bag on one sack; it was blue, with a large green ‘L’ on the front and a ‘W’ on the back. That could stand for my name, Lara Winston, or my mother’s name, Lorraine Winston. Whatever it stood for, it was as beautiful as the sparkling mounds of coins. I looked inside to find a piece of old parchment, crinkled and yellow with age. I dumped it into my palm, unfolded it as carefully as I could, and read it silently.
Lara,
I’ll tell you what my father told me: you are a Winston witch, and this is your fortune. Use this money wisely to get what you need, but no more. I bet you’re a lovely young girl now; I know you must miss me terribly, but you’re strong like your father. You’ll keep it inside, like you always do. Keep it together, my sunshine. Use this to keep our money safe while you have it. There are wards on it that keep others out of it, and only you can open it. Be careful at Hogwarts.
Love, Mom
I sat back on my haunches, covering my mouth with my hand. A note, in my mother’s handwriting. It was almost unbelievable, yet it was there. Living proof that my mom was a witch other than my accursed memory, and she knew I’d be one, too.
Just as silent as when I came in, I gathered as much money as I thought I’d need and left. I was quiet and thoughtful while the others chattered and got their own money. I left them be, and they left me to wallow in my thoughts. It seemed forever until we were out of the darkness and back outside. We split up then: Tonks, disguised again, and me in one direction, presumably to Ollivander’s for a wand, and everyone else going someplace else. I didn’t pay much attention.
Diagon Alley had lost its splendor; I didn’t feel any joy in the streets now. The weight of my future hung heavy from my shoulders, though in reality it was only as big as that small letter in my mother’s handwriting.
But, to me, it meant the whole world was crashing down around me. At the moment, I wasn’t strong enough to pick it up. Would I ever be?
Muggles can't be Witches! by Wand_Waver2006
Chapter Notes: As usual, thanks to KateH for being a lovely and patient beta! Mods, it'd be the best birthday present in the world if this was up by Tuesday. ^^" The Gringotts poem is copyrighted JK Rowling; I do not take credit for it. Enjoy the chapter!