After several days of careful research, Hermione was able to find Jonathan Berkley’s address. However, she was forced to wait a week from her first discovery of him before she was able to travel to his house to talk to him because of work constraints.
She stood at the doorway of his large house and knocked three times. As she waited for someone to answer the door, Hermione quietly observed the bees and hummingbirds gathered around the flowers in his garden.
“Can I help you?” asked a man’s voice. Hermione turned around to face a man with piercing blue eyes and short blonde hair, his even features arranged in an expression of slight impatience. His face was structured differently, but she could see that there was a definite resemblance between Elizabeth and this man, who was obviously Jonathan Berkley.
Hermione stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Hermione Granger. I know we’ve just met, but I’ve got several important questions for you and I’d like just a few moments of your time.”
“Sorry. No interviews,” he said as he attempted to shut the door.
“Mr. Berkley, I’m afraid you don’t understand. I don’t want an interview,” Hermione called quickly.
The door opened a crack and Jonathan Berkley stuck his head out. “You don’t? Well then, why are you here?” he asked.
“Could we talk inside? It’s a rather sensitive matter,” she replied.
“I suppose. Come in,” he said, opening the door wide.
Hermione followed him to a large sitting room. Once they were both comfortably settled in squishy armchairs, she began talking.
“Mr. Berkley, I’ve been doing some research at the Hogwarts library and on the Muggle Internet- Well, I think- I hope- Oh, I’ve confused myself now.”
“Please, start over,” he said, smiling slightly.
Hermione nodded. “Mr. Berkley, I hope you won’t be too mad at me after I say what I have to say.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Never a good sign when they start out with a statement like that,” he said ruefully to the elderly maid that had just entered the room.
“Do you want anything, dears?” asked the maid, smiling at them.
“No, thank you, I’m fine,” replied Hermione.
“Would you open the curtains?” asked Jonathan. “It’s rather dark in here.” With a flick of her wand, the curtains were open and light was streaming across the hardwood floor. “Thank you, Amanda,” he said.
“Wait,” Hermione said quickly as the maid began to leave. “Amanda as in Amanda Williams? One of the women your parents employed back in the 1940s?”
“Yes, that’s her. Why?” Jonathan questioned.
“Do Emily Smith and Isaac Murray still work for you?” she asked urgently.
“Emily does. Isaac was killed in a hit-and-run accident nearly two years ago. Why do you ask?” he replied.
“Could you call Emily in? And could Amanda stay? This- what I have to talk about- it concerns them, too.”
Ten minutes later, when the four of them were all sitting down in the sitting room, Hermione began.
“You see, last week I moved into an apartment in Muggle London. But on my first full day there, I woke up to find a little girl staring at me. When she wouldn’t move, I tried to pick her up to bring her into the other room, but my fingers went right through her. It didn’t make any sense to me, because I could see her blonde hair and blue eyes, so I didn’t think she was a ghost.”
Hermione then brought out the author’s note from British Ghosts: Past, Present, and Future. She talked about how Ron had come over and played Candyland, how Elizabeth told them her name but then left hurriedly, how she got very excited when she saw Teddy, thinking he was Jonathan, and let slip her parent’s name, along with her last name.
“And so I used the Muggle Internet and looked you up,” concluded Hermione. “I figured if this was really Elizabeth you could help me figure out what happened to her.”
Emily put her hand over her heart. “Oh, my,” she murmured. “I can hardly believe it.”
Amanda smiled reassuringly at her. “Now, maybe we’ll finally get some closure on what happened to the poor dear,” she said. “Miss Granger, if you want answers, you tell her that Amanda said that she better start talking or she won’t make apple crisp for dessert tonight. Apple crisp was her favourite dessert. All I had to do was threaten not to make it and she’d do anything I asked.”
“Thank you. You’ve been very kind. I promise to tell you if I get any information out of Elizabeth.”
“You can Floo over any time, dear. I’ll have someone in the kitchen for the rest of the day. She’ll talk. Just remember - apple crisp.
“Mackenzie? Mackenzie!” Hermione called. Her apartment was empty.
Hermione walked from room to room. Finally, she stood in the middle of her kitchen and yelled, “Elizabeth Berkley! I just spoke to Amanda. She said if you don’t do what I tell you, she won’t make apple crisp for dessert tonight. Now, come here!”
Immediately, the air in front of her began to shimmer. Slowly, Elizabeth appeared. “Apple crisp for dessert tonight? Tell Amanda I was good. Please,” she begged.
“Only if you follow my instructions,” replied Hermione.
Elizabeth nodded her head. “Anything. If you tell Amanda I was good so she’ll make the apple crisp.”
“We’ll see. Now, what’s your name?”
“Elizabeth Anne Berkley. But Sir told me that Mommy and Daddy aren’t really my mommy and daddy and that I have to be Anna.”
“Who’s Sir?”
“I don’t know. He’s tall. He has big arms, this big around,” Elizabeth said, holding her hands apart about eight inches. “His moustache tickles.”
“What colour eyes does he have? What colour is his hair?”
“Brown eyes, I think, and brown hair too,” she replied. “He hits me whenever I look at him for too long.”
“Does he hit you a lot, Elizabeth?”
“Every day. Like the time Mommy hit me for breaking her china plate that belonged to her great-great-somebody. Only Mommy stopped real fast and said sorry and Sir doesn’t stop or say sorry.”
“Okay, one more question, Elizabeth. Do you know what today is?”
“Today is this many days after my seventh birthday,” Elizabeth said, showing Hermione nine fingers.
“And when is your birthday, Elizabeth?”
“My birthday is June twentieth.”
“Okay, just one more question. What year is it?”
“Nineteen… Nineteen forty-eight,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “So today is June twenty-ninth, nineteen forty-eight.”
“Okay. I’ll tell Amanda to make apple crisp for dessert tonight, because you were a very good girl,” Hermione promised.
Elizabeth smiled as she faded away.
The Little Girl In White by hermione210
Chapter Notes: As always, love to Katie and Kristy. And, as always, anyone you recognize from the books does not belong to me. Anyone else is mine.
Sorry about the long delay- school went crazy. I'll try to get back to semi-regular updates.