October arrived, dressed in a gown of ice-cold gossamer, sweeping over the grounds and into the castle.
Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Estella was not exempt from this and was often left with smoking ears after ingesting the (almost too) effective Pepperup Potion.
Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flowerbeds turned into muddy streams and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.
Estella spent most of her time with her friends in the warm, fire-lit common room where they sat on squashy armchairs and attempted not to fall asleep while doing essays on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards and The International Warlock Convention of 1289.
Halloween drew nearer and while rain lashed relentlessly at the windows, the inside of the castle was a coven of bright firelight and jubilant students.
"I'm so excited for the feast this year!" Charlotte cheered, waving her wand so that streaks of green appeared amongst her light brown hair. Estella was in her friends' dorm and they were all getting ready for the long-awaited Halloween feast.
"That reminds me," Estella perked up as she struggled to brush through her curly hair, "I've been meaning to ask: do wizards dress up at Halloween?"
"Dress up?" Lucille furrowed her brows. "What do you mean dress up?"
"Well, in the Muggle world, children- and adults usually dress up as witches and ghosts and vampires for Halloween," explained Estella, "Stuff like that."
Larisa laughed. "Why would you dress up as a vampire? And dressing up as a ghost is just silly."
Amelia's green eyes flashed with hurt. "It's not silly," she protested. "I used to dress up and go Trick Or Treating with my dad. It's really fun!"
"What is Trick-Or-Treating?" Belle asked, pulling her thick, black hair into a high ponytail. "I've never heard of that before."
"Me neither," Hazel agreed.
"It's exactly what it sounds like," said Estella. "People - Muggles - go around to houses and say "Trick Or Treat" and the owner of the house will give you candy, which is the treat."
"The trick is the bad part," Amelia added, "But it's usually just harmless pranks - getting candy is more common. It's amazing!"
Estella nodded and her eyes shone. "I remember one time, Hermione and I dressed up as witches for Halloween. Ironic, isn't it?"
In the back of her mind, a scene played out on a loop: a small girl - no older than seven - with curly, toffee-coloured hair, her blue eyes shining with delight, holding hands with a girl that mirrored her expression, except her eyes were brown and her front teeth a little buck-toothed.
They were dressed in matching robes that looked to be woven with pure moonlight, flashing and flapping around their ankles, baskets that looked like pumpkins held gingerly in their hands as they skipped towards the door of a house adorned with orange and black streamers and which had little incandescent purple bats coating the hedges.
They reached their destination and played a quick game of Scissors, Paper, Rock before the girl with the blue eyes stood up on tip-toe to press the doorbell.
A smiling woman wearing the hat of a captain and a live parrot sitting peacefully on her shoulder answered and held out a bowl filled with an assortment of sweets, which she placed generously into the pumpkin-shaped baskets.
The parrot squawked and the girls giggled, before running down the lawn to their parents, with a final wave goodbye to the lady with the warm smile and the talking parrot.
Estella remembered waving her plastic wand around aimlessly, pretending to shoot spells at her sister who mirrored her actions. It had been such a fun game; free and endless, dreaming up worlds of flying unicorns and epic spells. And now, it wasn't.
It was real. It was all real and Estella was a part of it.
And she had to prove she belonged, prove that she deserved a place here so that she wouldn't have to go back to the staring eyes and pitiful looks of that day in the assembly hall.
She had to prove she had what it took so that she didn't have to leave behind the world seven-year-old her had dreamed of, to give it all up.
She had to prove herself.
To her parents, to her teachers, to her friends, to Hermione...
And most importantly, to herself.
Because despite being chosen, she didn't feel special or extraordinary or anything much.
Despite her wand and her robes and her teachers and her friends, it could all be taken away from her.
And Estella didn't want that.
She didn't want to be seen as an indispensable object; she didn't want to wake up one day to find it was all a dream, or be knowing one day and oblivious the next.
One spell could stop everything, pause it all.
One spell.
One demand.
One slip-up.
So don't slip. Don't fall. Stay here, right now, in this perfect moment of immeasurable joy.
Stay...
But the ground was a solid mass of endless ice. The sky was grey and the clouds larger than life, and they blocked everything and hid all and no matter what she did, there was always a sheer layer left behind.
Estella blinked. The ice cracked and she wobbled on her feet.
Then she blinked again, and it was like nothing had happened.
She was back in the dorm, surrounded by her friends and Lucille was explaining Wizarding Halloween.
Estella let out a silent sigh and focused back on what Lucille was saying.
"Well in the Wizarding world, Halloween is sort of just a celebration of the changing of seasons from Autumn to Winter," she explained, wrapping her robes tighter around herself.
"You don't even have Trick Or Treating?" Amelia asked, her eyes wide.
Larissa shrugged. "Not really."
"Someday, when we've all graduated and turned into adults, we'll all go into a Muggle town and go Trick Or Treating together," Amelia promised.
"That sounds fun," Charlotte smiled, tossing her hair behind her shoulder.
Amelia nodded. "When we're 18."
Charlotte stared at her blankly. "Uh, Amy... we come of age when we're 17."
"Sorry what?"
✰♪
The Great Hall was alight under the glow of Hagrid's ginormous pumpkins, which had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in. Bats arched gracefully through the air, forming live streamers and twisted shapes.
The four house tables were adorned with enchanted tablecloths that displayed shimmering images that swum in the fabric, weaving in and out between the fibres.
A huge banner of dancing skeletons embellished the wall behind the staff table and Dumbledore's long, silvery hair gleamed and he was wearing midnight black robes, glittering with pinpricks that resembled stars.
"Wow," Amelia breathed, "This is even better than last year."
For a moment, the group stood there in silence as the low hum of chattering voices and the tinkle of glasses washed over them, making their hearts light and airy, as if they had been charmed with Wingardium Leviosa.
"Come on." Belle tilted her head towards the Gryffindor table. "Let's go eat."
"You and your food," Charlotte laughed, and they all moved in unison towards the platters and bowls of endless delight.
✰♪
Estella smiled uncontrollably, her cheeks straining from her constant laughter.
The feast had ended and they were walking back up to the Gryffindor with the rest of the school, Dumbledore having dismissed them after a long, yet jubilant night of dancing and feasting.
They ate and drank until their stomachs strained under the effort, and then a group of dancing skeletons(hired by Dumbledore) appeared, and the tables had disappeared and transformed into a dance floor.
Music blared from every corner of the room and they were lost in a myriad of twirling robes and beaming faces.
"That was, so fun!" Larisa expressed, her arms waving up and down in excitement. "I mean, I heard the rumour - you know - about the skeletons, but I didn't think Dumbledore would actually pull through!"
Hazel giggled. "Did you see him dancing during the last song? His beard was going everywhere."
"Flickwick almost fell over, I saw him!" laughed Estella. "Poor guy," she added, but her eyes were sparkling.
Suddenly, the chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly, as though someone had hit the pause button.
Estella looked around in confusion, but a sea of heads separated her from whatever had caused the shock.
"What's happening?" Amelia whispered, though her voice still carried through the din.
"I don't know," Estella breathed.
"Let's go look," Charlotte suggested, creeping up onto her tippy-toes.
Larisa's eyes widened. "I don't know if that's a good idea. What if it's dangerous...?"
But it didn't matter. The stream of students behind them all started pushing and shoving, trying to see what was happening. Somehow, Estella managed to get to the front.
It was dim and silent, and her eyes had to adjust to the lighting.
A trickle of water echoed through the corridor; a puddle that seemed to flood the path.
Something shone on the wall ahead. She squinted through the darkness and foot-high words appeared. They had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.
A gasp fell involuntarily from her lips and her eyes widened as she stared aimlessly at the words before her:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
"Wha-" Her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn't process what the words meant. Chamber of Secrets? What was that? Enemies of the heir?... Beware...
Her eyes caught onto something that must have shaken back and forth in the air, though now it was still.
Her eyes trailed up the wall. A puddle of water, a gleam of light, and a cat hanging by her tail from the torch bracket, stiff as a board, her eyes as wide as galleons, staring at something Estella couldn't see.
She stumbled backwards as she took in the whole picture, for the cat was not the only one bathed under the light of the solitary torch.
There were three figures: two boys - one tall with scarlet-coloured hair, and one thin, with emerald green eyes - and a girl, who resembled Estella in everything but the colour of her irises.
Someone bumped roughly into her shoulder and she recoiled, clutching the spot as she looked around wildly.
Then, someone shouted through the quiet.
"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.
But Estella's eyes remained fixed on the three figures, all of whom she knew.
The boy with the emerald green eyes turned, his tousled, jet-black hair bright in the blaze of light.
He looked at her and for the first time, the rapid beating of her heart was not due to his smiling face or his crinkled eyes.
Something flickered in her chest and a tremor of fear crept through her, numbing her insides and dubbing her stunned and as still as the cat that hung from the bracket.
She saw shock and denial on his face, but the volumes that were conveyed between them wrote of nothing but gibberish.
She didn't know what to think.
She didn't know what to say.
All she could do was stare at him, hoping what it looked like wasn't true, because how could it be?
How could the kind boy with the smiling face have caused this?
It didn't make sense.
Words and images and unfounded accusations whirled like an uncontrollable storm in her mind but she fought them back.
She didn't believe it.
She couldn't believe it.
No, it wasn't true. Not at all.
A voice broke through the silence. "What's going on here? What's going on?"
Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd, shoving past Estella. But she didn't feel it. She was numb with shock and disbelief.
"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?" he shrieked.
A hand fell into hers and Estella twisted to see Hazel; her eyes red and her glasses foggy.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
Estella gave a faint nod. "Are you?"
Hazel nodded back, her hands clutching onto Estella's like a lifeline.
The noise was rising as Filch fixed his popping eyes on Harry. "You!" he screeched, "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"
"Argus!"
Estella felt Hazel jump beside her and she remembered the girl's hatred of loud noises. She wrapped an arm around Hazel's shoulders, careful not to pull on her auburn hair.
Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers.
The whispers died at once.
Estella caught Professor McGonagall's eyes. She didn't know what the Professor saw in her expression, but the emerald-cloaked witch looked grim.
Dumbledore swept past Harry, Ron and Hermione and detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free-"
Despite her consternation, Estella still felt a twinge of annoyance at the imprudently keen wizard.
"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.
The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.
Estella's eyes followed after them.
Out of pure coincidence, or because she had sensed it, Estella didn't know, Hermione turned around at the last moment and matched her stare.
She mouthed an "It's okay," before being hurried forward by Snape.
Estella tried hard not to cry. It felt as if her twin were being dragged away from her.
What if they don't believe her? What if they think she did it?
Estella couldn't stand it.
She breathed in a shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the words Hermione had mouthed, but it didn't work.
Hermione had always tried to spare Estella's feelings, whether it be in tests or homework marks, but this time, this one time, Estella wanted the truth.
Because this time she wanted to know.
She wanted to run to her twin and wrap her arms around her and coerce Hermione to tell her everything.
But she couldn't. A sea of students separated them, scattered with solid waves and insurmountable islands.
Estella had always hated being left behind, but this time, there was no lifeboat, and she knew no spells that could part the wave.