ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

1〝one〞

ELLIS GRINDELWALD WAS QUITE CONTENT to go about her business in the castle alone.

After hearing about what she did in her room on her first night, no Slytherin desired to cross her. And even before word spread to the other Houses, each version more intimidating than the last, her name was enough for the other students to shun her like the plague.

Of course, there were a few exceptions. Ellis never entertained them, however. Neither did she speak to Rolf Scamander of Hufflepuff, who had elected to sit next to her in Transfiguration despite the many other vacant seats available; nor did she exhibit any discernible response to the queer and random comments of Luna Lovegood the Ravenclaw, who, similarly partnerless, was paired with her by Professor Flitwick in Charms.

But one thing—not that anyone had cared to notice—was that Ellis had done them no harm. Even when she was frustrated with how loony Lovegood was, or how friendly Scamander tried to be, she did not hex them like she allegedly had some of her roommates.

Her goal, if anything, was simple enough: to keep her distance and get through the seven years of education that would eventually set her on the path to freedom.

And so, she headed down to the front steps of the grounds where her first flying lesson would be held. She was early, as she liked to be for classes so that she could pick a secluded spot for herself and hoped that it would stay that way until the bells rang again. There was no one but twenty broomsticks lined neatly on the lawn. Ellis went to stand by the furthest broom on the left column; she began counting the twigs that frayed from the old Shooting Star to keep her eyes on the ground.

More students showed by the minute, and from a sideways glance Ellis saw each filling a space next to the brooms from the opposite end to where she was, much to her satisfaction. The final Slytherin to arrive was Jeremy Harper, who made desperate efforts at swapping places and failed. Nothing he owned or could offer, it seemed, was worth standing next to a Grindelwald—especially in a class already as dangerous as flying. All he could was to inch away like he did in Potions where he had to share a table with her. He couldn't quite believe his luck.

The last broom opposite Ellis remained empty even as Madam Hooch was going through the name register. Flying could be her favorite class after all, Ellis thought. But then.

"Ginevra Weasley!" repeated Madam Hooch. Ellis didn't have to look to know their teacher was becoming grouchy.

"Where's Ginny?" Ellis heard one of the Gryffindors whisper.

"Dunno," replied another.

Thumping footsteps approached at great pace and then, "Here, ma'am! Here! Sorry, I'm late!"

"That'll be five points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley. Now get into place!"

"Where have you been?"

"Lost track of time," the Weasley girl answered her neighbor. She was now in position. Her huffing and puffing subsided as she dusted and tugged on her robes. When no amount of good came to improve the outlook of the faded and rather oversized garment, she finally relinquished her attempts and stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm—" Her voice caught in what sounded like a stifled gasp. The mousy-haired boy next to her had his arm on hers as quickly as a reflex.

Weasley had peered up; the girls' eyes met, brown to silver and brown to black.

Ellis learnt the power of her stare at Weirfield, where she had been educated since age eight before receiving her letter of acceptance to Hogwarts. With it, she could silence others, send them running if she wanted. Recently, she discovered it was even more effective with a wand in hand, but that drew too much attention for her to fancy the idea of resorting to that.

She didn't have to.

"Ginny" was a mumbled slur as the freckled-face girl with flaming red hair recoiled and hastily broke eye contact.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and—"

Click.

"Mr. Creevey!" shrilled Madam Hooch. "I told you to put that ridiculous thing away! Do it now or you'll never see it again!"

In quick succession, the mousy-haired boy nodded, set down his camera, helped it upright because his fumbling fingers caused it to fall over the first time, resumed his posture, sulked a little, and then a lot when Madam Hooch announced "another ten points from Gryffindor."

"Now," continued Madam Hooch sternly, "as I was saying: stick out your right hand over your broom and say, 'Up!' "

There was a collective shout. Ellis and Ginny were the only ones whose brooms had risen into their grasps. Pleased with herself, a grinning Ginny looked up. She had forgotten she was best not doing so, but found herself in luck when the sight she beheld was nothing but the golden crown braids that surrounded the Slytherin's lowly-hung head.

It was a while before the rest of the class managed the feat and they were in the air; Ellis and Ginny, again, first to master the art of hovering. The ginger was thoroughly enjoying herself now, and even more so when Harper slid off the end of his Cleansweep Five, landing crudely on his bottom with a loud, attention-seeking thud. The class erupted into laughter. Ginny was crying from chortling so hard for the second time within minutes (the first being when Colin Creevey's Comet One Eighty smacked him square on the nose as he was commanding it with feeling) that her vision was beginning to blur and had to tighten her grip so she would not suffer a fate similar to Harper's.

That was when she saw, through haze no less, that Ellis was unmoved. Literally, the young Slytherin was still staring at the ground as she had been the moment she kicked off. And Ginny could have sworn the blonde had displayed no reaction to Colin's antics either.

But whatever. As long as she never had to see those creepy eyes again...

Madam Hooch gave them a task as the lesson cranked on: If they could hover steadily for a minute, they were allowed to rise two feet. If they could not, they were to descend two feet and work their way up again. This made for good competition amongst the Slytherins.

On Madam Hooch's whistle, their minute began. Ten minutes on Ellis was the only one twenty feet in the air. The next closest was Ginny, at ten feet, who had purposefully wobbled whenever necessary just so she could remain closer to her fellow Gryffindors. Meanwhile, the other Slytherins had many pushing and shoving incidents in their obsession to win that they hung only around six feet above the ground.

For the first time in forever, Ellis no longer focused on the green that was freshly-mowed grass and savored her surroundings.

Magnificent stood the castle atop a cliff even when scaled-down from this height, though she thought not as much as in the night; breathtaking was the Scottish Highlands in the background; serene was the Black Lake on which she had arrived upon her first day.

Whistle.

The Forbidden Forest and its vastness came into view; her eyes settled on the Quidditch pitch.

Oh, how she ached to play.

Whistle.

Beyond the castle gates: Hogsmeade. Witches and wizards roaming the village were no more than moving dots on a very life-like map.

Whistle.

The Shrieking Shack... Still, there looked no end to the Forbidden Forest.

No whistle came again for a while. Ellis gazed down; her stomach did a little flip. She blinked, to make sure.