The Choices We Make ∆ Harry Potter Sister

Chapter 3.8

Her voice was soft like a beautiful lullaby, and her hand movement was ever so elegantly. There was a certain regalness to her stoic face, something that must had belonged to the aristocrats. And there was a certain demand of respect and fear in the way she moved her wand, because she didn't just say the curse, but she casted. She performed it. And it did its purpose. The once breathing spider was no more. Every head in the classroom turned to where she sat, and the clunking of the ex-auror's prosthetic leg was the only sound heard. As he approached her table, Moody lifted the dead spider in her hand for the class to see.

"The killing curse," explained the ex-auror, "No countercurse, no blocking it. Only one person has ever survived it, and he's the spell caster's brother."

Smirking devilishly, the ex-auror took dramatically slow steps towards the young Potter, with his real eye trained on her, and his glass eye on her brother. Ellie was confused and at unease. With every clunk of the wooden leg, she felt more and more isolated from the rest of the class. Just her and Moody. And the way he mentioned Harry, it was as if he wasn't mildly interested in him, which was so unlike the rest of the wizarding world. Because for the first time, she found herself in her brother's shoe. She found herself as the centre of the attention, or more specifically, the only thing her professor paid attention to. There was something in the way that he looked at her that made her feel as if Mad-Eye Moody was nowhere near sanity. That perhaps it wasn't only his eye that was full of madness, it was also his head.

"For such a young witch to master to curse, you must've been very powerful, Miss Potter."

Sitting up straighter, Ellie put up a brave face and smiled politely, "Just determination, sir."

The ex-auror hummed to himself, with both eyes on her now, before he popped his flask open and took a swig. Ellie was quite certain it wasn't pumpkin juice that his flask held, because the way he shook his head after he drank it was no way from satisfaction. But she knew it wasn't whiskey either, she's been in Hagrid's hut far too often to know what whiskey smelt like. Moody didn't give her much time to ponder, however, as he leaned just slightly closer and mused under his breath, "Best not let a powerful witch like yourself go to waste."

•••

"And now, it is the moment that we've all waited for-"

Already bored with the opening of the Triwizard Championship opening, Ellie eyed the boy beside her, and just as the blue eyed boy was about to take a sip from his cup, Ellie jabbed him deep in his ribs, causing him to spill a few drops of pumpkin juice onto his lap. Neverminding the colourful slurs he was directing at her, she asked him, "Have you planned your funeral, yet?"

"Do you have so little faith in me, Ellie?" retorted Adrian as he rolled his eyes, pretending as if he was far more interested in their headmaster's speech than the girl next to her.

"Do you really think I'd let you live another sunrise if your name gets called out?"

"-Victor Krum!"

Ellie watched as Victor Krum, the great Bulgarian seeker, strut from the end of the Slytherin table towards the podium, where the white-bearded headmaster congratulated him. As he disappeared into the other room, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, her green eyes met those beautiful ocean blue ones, ones which were lit up with mischief.

"You care about me, don't you?"

Ellie almost choked on air when Adrian popped that question like it was nothing of a big deal. How could he, no, how dare he asked such question? Well, she thought to herself, two can play this game, and she'll be darned before she let his already inflated head to get even bigger. Shrugging her shoulders, she told him, "Of course, you're my friend."