The Other Potter: Book One

Chapter Fourteen: Christmas Eve.

[Chapter Fourteen: Christmas Eve. Edited.]

The fact that Ron's dad – who was meant to be in Romania – was the one to pull me out of Harry Potter's – my best friend's – old abandoned house – that I'd somehow gotten the address for – after I'd escaped Malfoy Manor – with the help of Draco – who I thought hated me – after my father – who I hoped loved me – failed to kill me, had made me severely confused and tired.

"Come on," Mr Weasley said pulling me along. With a flick of his wand my things trailed along behind us. He ushered me into a car and whispered something to the other man, who climbed into the front seat. "The ministry lent us a car. Comes free with a driver." He added with a wink.

I tried to reply, but no sound came out. I had an urge to vomit. He was too nice, nicer than I deserved. Tears began to silently fall from my eyes.

"Willow...what's wrong?"

No. Don't

I shook my head and he didn't push further. I appreciated that.

"You're different from the other Malfoys I know."

I wiped the tears from my face and looked at him. "You're the same as the other Weasleys I know... and you're supposed to be in Romania."

He smiled at me, "My wife and I are leaving when I get home. We were meant to leave earlier, but Mad-Eye called me back to work."

"They called me back to work," Mad-Eye/the grumpy man growled. "And I'm retired."

"He likes to remind everyone of that."

Within about three seconds, the car was parked at the Ministry.

"Come on," Mr. Weasley got out of the car and tried to put an arm around me. I flinched away and he frowned, but he didn't try it again. "We're going to see the Minister of Magic."

We arrived at what I was told was The Minister's office. I was asked to wait outside while Mr. Weasley had a word with whoever was inside. I spent those precious moments trying to clean up my face. A mirror would have been helpful, but as fate would have it, I didn't have one.

"I'd like to contradict that." A flash of green light.

I shook myself out of the flashback as Mr. Weasley returned.

"Good bye Willow, I'll see you again."

"Goodbye," I wanted to wish him a good holiday, but the words never came.

"Merry Christmas." He smiled and left.

As I pushed open the door to the office, I tried to push the memory from my mind.

"Hello Miss Malfoy," said the kind voice of Professor Dumbledore.

I hated the word Malfoy. I hated being called a Malfoy. It was like dirt. I was dirty and I couldn't wash it off. I couldn't get the filth off of me as much as I tried. I was doomed forever to be a Malfoy, and the thought made me want to vomit.

"This is the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

"Why were you at thirty-two Memoir Avenue, Godric's Hollow tonight?" Fudge asked. I just stared at him. "I need answers, missy!"

"I – I don't know, sir," I stared at my feet. They were bare and filthy. I didn't remember taking off my shoes.

"How did you know the address?"

From an imaginary memory.

"I don't know, sir," I spoke the truth again, but he was getting more aggravated every time I did.