Lizzie let the trunk lid fall. She turned, took in the bare walls, neatly made beds, crisp curtains, and for the first time, she didn't know if she'd ever be back.
She was the only remaining inhabitant of her dormitory. All the other Slytherins had run when You-Know -- no, when Voldemort (there was no need to be afraid of the name anymore) had attacked the castle. All but a few, and most of those had joined in on the side of the Death Eaters.
Only Lizzie had volunteered to fight. It was a split-second decision, just as she was about to leave through the secret passage. Professor Slughorn had been right behind her, panting with the stress. She knew he longed to escape the siege, just like all the others.
And when she turned, saw the rather desperate gleam in his eye, she stepped aside.
"After you, Professor."
He acquiesced eagerly. But she never came after him.
Instead she turned on her heel and fled, back out of the secret room, into the hell that was breaking loose...
A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.
"Come in."
Minerva McGonagall stepped inside. It was strange to see her here among the green and silver hangings. A slight twist in her tight-lipped expression, which Lizzie supposed was meant to be a sympathetic smile, betrayed the headmistress's discomfort. This was not her strong suit, trying to comfort young girls.
She cleared her throat. "Gray. I see you've packed. Ready to go?"
Lizzie only nodded. Generally she would have tried to make some sort of conversation with her headmistress, but not today. Too much weighed on her. It was too soon.
She could still hear their screams.
Could still see so many last moments.
That annoying Creevy boy, whom she'd never liked, leaning through a gaping hole in the castle wall, trying to save his already fallen brother. The firm determination in his eyes as he reached for his brother's hand, then vanished under a horde of giant spiders.
One of the Weasley twins (she never knew which was which) who had laughed only moments before his death. Only moments before the wall imploded and he was silenced forever.
And Thomas...
"You seem to be... coping," McGonagall said quietly.
Lizzie paused. "Yes. I'm fine."
There was an awkward silence where both of them stared at the floor. Then...
"That's horse manure, Gray."
Lizzie looked up in surprise at the stern look in her Head's eyes. No attempts at motherly kindness remained.
"I work with schoolchildren, for heaven's sake - I, of all people, should know when I'm being lied to."
Lizzie tried to laugh, but the sound came out more like a cough. Instead she assumed a stony expression. "Headmistress, with all due respect, lies are better than truth in this case."
Something rose inside Lizzie's chest, heavy, dark, but she pushed it back down into her stomach. She couldn't break down yet.
McGonagall seemed to realize that the Slytherin girl was even more stubborn than usual and lowered her stern gaze in pity. "As you wish."
Neither one spoke.
Lizzie broke the silence. "Is that all you came for, Headmistress? Because I really do need to be going, my aunt is expecting me to arrive by Floo Powder any minute."
McGonagall ran a hand absentmindedly along the iron bedstead. "No. I'm taking a count of which sixth and seventh years plan to come back next year. It seems a fair few are dropping out without getting their N.E.W.T.s." She furrowed her eyebrows in disapproval.
Lizzie spoke carefully. "I have a job offer abroad." She paused. "With the Irish national team. They lost Moran in the war and want me to replace her."
McGonagall raised her eyebrows high. Lizzie thought it must have taken a lot of practice in the mirror to arch them so impressively.
"Oh? Well, that is a prestigious offer, I must say." Her eyebrows didn't lower even a fraction of an inch. "But, as your headmistress, I must say that nothing can replace a good education. You may only be sixteen -"
"Seventeen," Lizzie corrected.
McGongall looked annoyed at being interrupted in her speech. "When did you come of age?"
"Er... last week. The day the castle was attacked, actually..."
Now McGonagall looked as if she wished she hadn't asked. With an awkward pat on Lizzie's shoulder, she cleared her throat. "Do consider coming back to finish, get your N.E.W.T.s. You won't regret it."
Lizzie nodded, but her decision had already been made. Too many painful memories resided in this castle. She'd been offered an escape, and she was going to take it. "Yes, ma'am."
The headmistress nodded and left, letting the door fall shut behind her.
A vision of the Great Hall doors blasting off their hinges flashed across Lizzie's eyes, and she flinched.
Would it ever go away? Would she ever be able to just go on with her life?
...
"Elizabeth!"
Lizzie's Aunt Carol jumped up from her chair by the fire and hugged her niece. "You're home at last, love. Welcome back."
Lizzie gave a half-smile and tried to look at least nearly as excited as her guardian. "Thanks. I'm glad to be... home." But this wasn't home, really. Home had been the flat in London with her parents, then Hogwarts after... but now the flat was gone, and how could Hogwarts be home after all that had happened there? It was too muddled, too confusing...
"All right?" Carol Eden looked concerned. "You're so pale."
"I was sick for a few days." Lizzie pulled her trunk out of the fireplace and it made a heavy thunking noise on the wooden floor. "I got a nasty cut and had a fever, but I'm well now."
Carol didn't seem mollified. "Let me get your things, you just go lie down."
But Lizzie had already pulled out her wand. "It's no problem, Aunt Carol, I can do it." She waved her wand and the trunk sped up the stairs. "I'd appreciate some tea, though." Anything for a few minutes alone.
Her aunt smiled, glad that Lizzie would at least accept a measly cup of tea after what she'd been through, and bustled off to the kitchen.
Lizzie hurried up the nearest set of stairs to the bedroom she'd stayed in over Christmas holiday. She didn't pay attention to the many doors she passed on the way - the Edens' house was a labyrinth she'd never have time to figure out. Anyway, by June she'd be gone to Ireland with a place of her own, no one to make her tea or question her health. Lizzie was suited to solitude, and she looked forward to leaving.
The bedroom was plain-looking and white, not much decoration besides a large painting of some old ancestor she'd never once seen awake. He had an annoyed expression even when he slept, sprawled out on his velvet armchair, so Lizzie had no desire to meet him. The linens on her bed were gold and gaudy, and a black desk stood opposite - it was covered in parchment, old quills, and dust, probably from one of Mr. Eden's projects he'd likely given up years ago. Lizzie cleared it with a charm and stacked the papers in a neat pile on a shelf.
Within five minutes she'd magically unpacked and settled in. Aunt Carol brought the tea up, and Lizzie bought herself more time alone by suggesting that perhaps she really should rest a little. But when she was alone once more, it didn't bring her the comfort she'd expected. Instead she sat staring at the ceiling until images of the battle overwhelmed her and she indulged in reliving her last moments with Thomas. She was glad to be situated far away from the house's other occupants - it gave her permission to let out the tears that didn't seem to end, no matter how many times she let them cascade down her face. No one heard her gasping for air as she saw, over and over, the light leave his eyes, the faint glow of a well-aimed curse still emanating from his chest.
Their last conversation ran through her head.
Lizzie searched the corridors and finally found Thomas in the Great Hall with a group of Ravenclaws. They glared at her as she approached, but Thomas just smiled.
"You stayed." He reached down and gave her a quick kiss.
"Of course I did. You're here, and I couldn't leave you."
"You could have." Thomas put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not the only reason you're here, admit it."
She shook his hand off, but immediately regretted her temper. "Let's not make this complicated, all right? Where do they need help the most."
"North Tower, but you're not going up there, I heard Bellatrix Lestrange is fighting her way through single-handedly."
"Then that's exactly why I should go. I'll find you later, all right? Stay alive, won't you?" It was forcibly light-hearted.
"No, I'll come for you. Stay out of range of Lestrange's curses, whatever you do."
Lizzie just rolled her eyes and grinned. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
As Lizzie stifled her sobs with a pillow, she thought that "fine" wasn't exactly the best description. Alive, yes. But fine? Not so much.
Tick-Tock by Britta Berkley
Chapter Endnotes: Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!