Make Me.

Book 4 - Chapter 4

When the sun began to rise in the early hours of August the fourteenth, Ellie found it impossible to fall asleep, despite her best efforts. She knew that being anywhere other than her own house meant the beginning of her weekly sleep-deprivation cycle; she would stay up all night, trudge though the day half-awake, taking micro naps when she could, and then repeat, all week, until Saturday came round, and she would sleep the weekend away, two days straight horizontal, only to restart the cycle again on Monday. Ellie knew her couple hours of designated sleep time before her and her father left for the Weasley's that afternoon would be the only time she could get a solid chunk of rest in for the next ten months, but Ellie could not sleep.

She laid in her bed, tossing and turning. She kept having to tell herself to closer her eyes and try to relax, but it was no use. Her trunk was already packed at the foot of her bed, waiting to be dragged down the stairs and out the front door.

Ellie had thrown every book within her reach inside her trunk as she packed. Most of the rest of the trunk was taken up with pressed shirts, skirts, and moth-eaten sweaters, and some not so holey ones that Ellie had raided fresh from her father's closet, not bothering to take out whatever he had shoved in his pockets. At some point when Ellie was cramming things into her trunk, Remus stuck his head into her room and supplied her with a fresh pair of rubber high-top sneakers and a package of her signature white socks that always poked out the tops of her shoes. At the very top of her trunk, Ellie gently placed her most prized possessions - her father's enchanted map of Hogwarts that he had given to her at the end of last year, and her scrapbook of photos that she had been steadily adding to as the years went on.

The only things that didn't go into the trunk was the family heirloom watch that Ellie wore everyday, her outfit she had picked out for her first day at the Weasley's, her wand, and Marshall.

Ellie waited until she heard her father puttering around out in the corridor, banging his suitcase off the walls of the tight hall, to get up and out of bed. It was mid-morning when Ellie dragged her hairbrush though the knotted mess of hair on her head, not able to remember the last time she had her hair cut. Teeth were brushed, sweater was on, scar on her left hand was concealed, and Ellie was out the door with her squeaky fresh shoes within twenty minutes, Marshall perched on her shoulder, paws holding onto the point of her right ear.

Ellie's face was brighter than it had been in weeks. All thoughts of Voldemort and Wormtail had flown from her head and all she could think about was Fred Weasley as she ate her breakfast. Ellie was silently enjoying a bowl of cherries that were leaving her lips stained a blood-red color when Remus opened his mouth to say something. He had been silent all morning as well, though he looked much more stressed than Ellie did.

"You know. . ." Remus's fork scraped against his teeth making a sound that made Ellie's face scrunch up into a short grimace. "No magic at the Weasley's, or you'll get in trouble. . ."

"I know," Ellie said brightly. She spit a cherry pit out into the bowl in front of her.

". . . and if you can't get along with Ron, just leave him alone. . ."

"I know, dad," Ellie repeated.

". . . and Fred. . ."

"So that's what this is, then," Ellie said in realization. "Go on, then, say whatever it is your going to say that's going to make things all awkward." Ellie waved her hand through the air to signal to the man standing across from her to speak.

Remus took a second to think before speaking. He had an odd look on his face, like he couldn't believe what he was going to say, but he was sort of smiling at the same time.

"Whatever you do, just. . . just don't get caught," Remus said with a shake of his head. He took a sip of his coffee and mumbled over the top of the cup. "I'll never hear the end of it from Molly. . ." Remus screwed up his face and made his voice go high-pitched in imitation of Mrs. Weasley. "Remus Lupin! Do you know the things your daughter is getting up to! . . . My dear! . . . I know it may be hard to talk about, but these are conversations we need to have with our children! . . ." Remus groaned a little and took another sip of his coffee.