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𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

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an enigma.She was elusive, quiet, and a tad odd. The only personal piece of information people had of her was her terrifying night terrors. Other than that, she was relatively mysterious. Of course, rumors would fly occasionally or whenever something connected to the Dark Arts happened.

Still, she always stood tall.

She would never admit to anyone that the whispers did truly hurt. Being cornered constantly by older students and threatened because people suspected her of being behind the attacks scared her. 

Elara was draped over the arm of a couch dramatically after exclaiming she was going to die from hunger.Aunt Meda only laughed and whacked Elara over the head gently with her spatula. Since Elara's mum and Aunt Meda looked so much alike, they looked like sisters. The wild black hair, sharp chin and soft brown eyes were traits they had inherited together.

It was just about the end of the summer holidays and Elara had turned thirteen three months ago. On her thirteenth, Elara's hair turned a pale shade of pink: a color that was sometimes associated with cheeriness, and Nymphie just about had a riot.

So the entire summer Elara had been more in touch with Nymphie than ever. Although her bubblegum-haired cousin was an Auror, Nympie had always had time to write Elara back. They had known Elara was a Metamorphagus to an extent, but all she was able to do was change her hair into a tamer version of itself. 

The Daily Prophet slipped through the mailbox slit in their front door. Elara pulled herself up by grasping on the back of the couch. She dusted herself off and walked the few feet from the living room to the door.

BLACK STILL AT LARGE 

 Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, The Ministry of Magic confirmed today. 

 "We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm." 

 Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis. 

 "Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. and let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"

 While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse. 

It was still the same old news from last issue, but now the Muggle Prime Minister knew about it, and so did the Muggles — although somewhat. Elara guessed it wouldn't take long for the daily prophet to start spewing out how she was in cahoots with Black and they were both trying to raise The Dark Lord since it they had written about her the two previous years.

She found no matter how hard she tried, people still looked at her as if she was going to torture and kill them.

"Aunt Meda?" called Elara, "paper!"

"Anything new?"

"No."

"I was thinking, we should go to Diagon Alley soon before everyone goes." 

A pot clanged against the floor, sending a loud reverberating noise throughout the house.

"Sounds good! I need to get more owl feed for Jupiter anyways."

The sound faded and there was a long pause of silence. Uncle Ted was at work, and so Aunt Meda and Elara were the only two in the house. The summer between Elara's second and third year had been a long drawling one.

"I keep forgetting to ask, but how was school besides the... you know... incident?"

Elara considered not telling her aunt the truth. The last thing she wanted to was to upset her aunt, who was already on edge because of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban. In a moment of guilt, she spilled.

"People thought I did it because of who I am," she admitted guilty, unhappy from remembering all the times she was cornered last year.

"But you're a Gryffindor! I thought it was the 'Heir of Slytherin'!" exclaimed Aunt Meda, emerging from the kitchen, hands on her hips.

"Doesn't change who my mum is," said Elara sadly, sagging into the couch, "I wish you were my mum, Aunt Meda. Then I'd probably actually have friends."

"What about Draco Malfoy?"

"He's a great prat," said Elara bitterly, crossing her arms and huffing, causing a strand of her curly hair blow away from her face.

"I'm so sorry, love..." Aunt Meda sat down into the couch next to Elara, "I sometimes forget I'm actually not your mum, if that makes you feel better."

"Why don't you just adopt me? Then Uncle Ted could be my dad and Nymphie could be my sister!" suggested Elara, staring at her knees..

Next to her, Aunt Meda paled. She laughed nervously and patted Elara on the shoulder a few times. 

"Maybe kiddo, maybe."

Elara sighed as Aunt Meda stood up to continue working on dinner for tonight. Elara rolled over to see the clock. Two Thirty in the afternoon. There were still eight hours until Elara planned to turn in for the night. She hadn't seen Nymphie in ages as she was incredibly busy trying to catch Sirius Black. The Ministry had been driving her up the wall as Nymphie detailed in her last letter about how her boss hadn't slept in days and was going purely off of caffeine.

"Hey Lara, I've been thinking, maybe you should write to that Ginny Weasley girl and ask how she's doing? Merlin knows she's torn up after the incident," said Aunt Meda from the kitchen.

Grateful for something to do, Elara pushed herself up from the couch and replied with a quick thanks before heading upstairs into her bedroom. Her owl, Jupiter, wriggled around in her cage, begging to be let out.

The cage door creaked slightly when Elara unlatched the hook and let Jupiter out. She sat in the wooden chair at her desk and clicked a stray pen that had been lying around.

Dear Ginny Weasley,

How've you been feeling since last year? I know you probably don't want to be asked about it, but I feel kind of bad for not saying anything last year. This is also probably weird coming from me, but I want to apologize too. I know I probably shouldn't feel guilty, but I can't help feel partially responsible since my mum is who she is and... well, you probably know.

It's okay if you tear this letter up and throw it in the fireplace, I definitely understand. If not, thank you. 

I also heard about lockhart refusing to help you, what a git.

Hope you're well,

Elara Lestrange

Satisfied with her letter, Elara clicked her pen and carefully placed the parchment in an envelope and with great difficulty, tried to write the address of the Weasley's place. She gave the envelope to Jupiter, who hooted gratefully and took off out her window.

It wasn't much, but Elara didn't want to launch into an unnecessary, long-winded letter, because she didn't really know Ginny Weasley at all. 

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

edited: august 19, 2020