Surviving in Harmony

Chapter Fifty-Three | Hogsmeade, September 2018

Chapter Fifty-Three

Hogsmeade, September 2018

Ella Bowen started her sixth year at Hogwarts with a mission. Shortly after her birthday on the third, she sent a letter to an old family friend asking if she could come by for tea during the Hogsmeade trip at the end of the month. It was accepted.

When the leaves first began to fall and students streamed down to the village, Ella turned south down a side road. Not many knew of it, but she knew it was a shortcut to the outer cottages of Hogsmeade. Satchel bumping against her leg, humming a tune, Ella thought about what her father would be thinking. He'd probably go mental.

Soon she reached the first few scattered homes and opened one old, wooden gate. An old woman stood on the steps, her black hair flecked with silver. Her square spectacles sat on the bridge of her nose, and her stern expression flickered when she saw the girl coming through her gate.

"Ms. Bowen, welcome." She hailed.

"Good morning Professor McGonagall!" Ella called, waving.

"Come in, take your shoes off at the door." Minerva let her in, showing her to the kitchen. Ella had been there before, as a child; with no family besides Winston and some third cousins in Sweden on their mother's side, there were few older elders to introduce the Bowen children to. If Dumbledore had been alive he would have been like a Grandfather, and since Minerva never had children she loved to see the little ones running around.

"So, what prompted this visit?" she asked, pouring the tea.

Ella grinned. "A desire for intelligent conversation, what else?"

"Don't fool me, Ms. Bowen – I know you're looking for answers." Minerva sat down, remembering days long ago when she had looked at the first Hazel Bowen across this very table, usually with Albus, sometimes without.

"Okay, but don't tell Pa?" she stirred sugar into her tea, but kept eye contact; she was fierce, Minerva had always been able to tell. "It will only upset him."

"I won't speak of it to your father. You have my confidence." This was from many years of being a teacher; though not who one would assume to be the kindest in times of trouble, many students had found solace in their stern professor.

"I want to know about my grandmother." Said Ella firmly. She had thought about this a lot, and knew it was a conversation she had to have. Hazel was only ever referred to in funny or sweet stories, but still after all these years Ella did not know why she was such a secret.

"I knew this day would come." Minerva set her tea aside, folding her hands on the table. "It is one of my greatest regrets that your grandmother was not more widely recognized."

"She's got a portrait in Hogwarts though, and in the ministry. She's on the list of names of great thanks, that memorial thing." Ella had tried to find Hazel in every possible place.

"Yes, but only as a member of the order, a long-time friend of Dumbledore. Few know the true part she played in the war. That portrait was put up on Harry's insistence."

"He was her godson, right?" asked Ella. "That's why we call him Uncle."

"This is knew knowledge to you, I assume."

"Sorta. It was never kept secret, but we were never told exactly how we were sort of related."

"Hazel and Harry's mother were best friends, but that is only a small part of that story. Another time." Minerva sighed. "A different generation, a different war."

"So, what exactly did she do in the war, Hazel I mean?"

Minerva contemplated for a moment, wondering whether Ella could handle the secrets she was about to unload. Many who had fought with Hazel in the first war were dead, or knew better than to speak of it. However, Minerva knew Ella Bowen. She was a smart girl, and all she wanted was the truth. "She was a spy, Ella. Dumbledore's spy."