Chapter Text
Ellie passed her final exams with flying colors. The Light of Fulfillment charm seemed to have caused a major breakthrough in her magical abilities, because all of the spells that had caused her so much trouble throughout the year became perfectly doable.
She had no one to share her success with, though. She spent the last week of term avoiding Yuki and Phineas, afraid that they would ask her what had happened that day. She knew that she could never tell anyone else about -
She couldn't even think it to herself.
No friendship was strong enough to survive that, she thought. But she wasn't ready to lie to them about it quite yet. Maybe she would talk to them again in the fall, after she had more time to process. How could she call them her friends, though, when she kept so much from them? Her chest tightened as she thought about what this meant for her future. Lies and secrets forever. But if that was the price to pay…
There were plenty of rumors about what had happened, though, and Phineas and Yuki were sure to have heard most of them by now. Some people seemed to think that Kamat had attacked the three Slytherin boys, and Snape had leapt to their defence, while others claimed that Kamat had broken up a fight between Ellie and the boys but gone a little overboard. Even the Slytherins who had witnessed the subsequent duel between the teachers couldn't seem to come to any conclusions. The one consistent fact was that Kamat had been the one to fire a spell at Ellie, and Dumbledore hadn't stopped it.
No one would dare ask Snape what had happened, Kamat was gone, and neither Ellie nor the boys were quick to affirm or deny any rumors, so they continued to spread. Speculation and whispers seemed to follow Ellie wherever she went. At one point, this may have bothered her. But it all seemed so insignificant compared to the confrontation that preceded the teachers' duel.
Ellie sat by herself on the train ride home. She got some mixed looks in the window as people passed by, but no one came in. Some seemed to pity her, sitting there friendless after being brutally attacked by a teacher. But others looked afraid, convinced that she had used dark magic to defeat three students at once. Ellie just stared out the window and dreamt about locking herself in her bedroom for the rest of the summer.
As she was dragging her trunk to the taxi stand, someone called out, "Ellie! Long time no see. Have a good year?"
It was Mr. Weasley. All of his children were standing behind him uncomfortably aware of how ridiculous that question was in this situation. Charlie tried to get his attention and make him stop, but he just continued brightly, "Fred and George didn't cause too much trouble, did they?"
Ellie almost laughed. Their stupid prank had been so long ago that she had nearly forgotten about it. And they had certainly left her alone after that. Honestly, she answered, "They were alright."
Mr. Weasley gave a pleasant little wave and led his family on, but the twins hung behind for a moment. One of them said quietly, "Thanks for not telling our dad about that herbology thing."
Ellie just shrugged. She'd been satisfied with telling their brother. There was no need to escalate their animosity if she could help it. They didn't look at all mad at her now, though.
He continued, "I heard that you duelled some Slytherins in Charlie's year because they called you a, you know, the bad word for muggle-born."
The other one added, "I heard you won."
They seemed to be waiting for Ellie to respond, so she nodded cautiously.
"Brilliant," they replied in unison.
Their parents called to them to catch up, so they hurried off, one of them throwing a quick wave over his shoulder.
Ellie didn't think it was brilliant at all. If they knew how badly she had actually hurt those students, what she was really capable of…
She arrived back at Spinner's End before Snape. Her room was a bit musty after being closed up for a year, but it was good to have her own room again, with her own lock on the door, and the freedom to just be alone.
It had been a year since Snape rescued her from the Clarkes, but it felt much longer. She was a different person than she had been a year ago. She was a different person than she had been a week ago.
That wasn't quite true, though, she thought. She had been the same killer then as she was now, only she hadn't known it then. She'd been a killer since she was seven years old, and no one had told her until Professor Kamat. Professor Dumbledore may have meant well by keeping it from her, but at this point she was grateful that Kamat had told her. From now on she would be watching herself as closely as Kamat had watched her.
She wondered if Snape would have told her, if he had known. She wasn't sure what he thought of the news, since she'd been avoiding him too. Would he be as disgusted with her as she was with herself? He'd allowed her to come back here, but maybe it was just to keep an eye on her now that he knew how dangerous she could be.
On the other hand, she thought, he might not be bothered at all, since he had been a Death Eater himself. He hadn't denied Kamat's accusation, and it made a certain amount of sense. Kamat had hinted at it the first time they met. Thinking back on it, there were a lot of times when Snape had hurriedly changed the topic when Ellie asked about the Dark Arts, or really anything to do with his past. She realized that she actually knew very little about him.
Ellie had read about some of the Death Eaters who had been convicted and ended up in Azkaban. They had manipulated, tortured, and killed people in the name of Voldemort. Some of Voldemort's followers hunted down muggles and muggle-borns just for sport. There was one Death Eater that had killed twelve muggles in one go, and laughed about it. She was afraid to ask what Snape had done.
Ellie lay in bed, chasing morbid thoughts around her head for hours, until she finally drifted off to sleep.
Snape was worried. They'd been back at Spinner's End for a week and still hadn't talked about the end of term events. They barely talked at all, beyond "pass the salt." Without ever really discussing it, they continued their habit of eating meals together, but Ellie had ceased reading in the library. Instead, she would come down for quick meals and then immediately retreat back up to her room. He was trying to give her space, to allow her to approach things when she was ready, but his anxiety was getting worse the longer he waited.
He had known since last summer that Ellie would find out about his Death Eater past eventually. There was no way he could hide it forever. But he was never willing to bring it up himself, and he was furious that Kamat had revealed it so abruptly, before he figured out how to address it.
He had to address it now, though. And even more importantly, he had to address the other point, of Ellie's past. He was sure that she was blaming herself for what had happened. Kamat had certainly made it clear that she held Ellie responsible for her actions. It was unfortunate, and sad, what happened to those girls. But at the time, Ellie had no idea what she was doing, and her ignorance absolved her in his opinion. It was an accident. A terrible accident, but an accident nonetheless.
Finally, it was Dumbledore who gave Snape the push he needed to talk to Ellie. At lunch one day, he slid Ellie a stack of parchment and said, "This is for you."
"What is it?" she asked nervously.
"Penance."
"It looks like forms."
"It is. These are the forms you need to fill out in order to get your spell approved by the ministry. You will likely also be asked to come in and perform it in person," Snape said. He added, "Dumbledore insists."
Ellie flipped through the unpleasantly thick stack. "You can patent charms?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered, "But I think Dumbledore intends for you to make your spell free for public use."
Ellie put the paper down and clenched her hands in her lap. "Is this a punishment?" she asked quietly, "for what I did?"
Snape answered gently, "This is a reparation for what you did to those Slytherin boys. As for the other thing… You owe no reparation, because you are not at fault."
Ellie quickly wiped away a tear but did not look up. "I am. I did it."
Snape said, "No, you didn't. Magic can work through us in ways that are out of our control, especially as a young child. You did not curse them."
Ellie made no response for a long while. Eventually, she met Snape's eyes and asked, "Have you ever killed someone?"
He tried to read her expression. There was no accusation there, only sadness. He hesitated, but nodded slightly. "Indirectly, yes."
"Does the guilt ever go away?"
He held her gaze and shook his head.
With a pained expression she asked, "Does it get better?"
He wanted to comfort her. But the truth was that it never got easier. He still thought of Lily every day. He continued with his life, but he never moved on. In response, he shook his head again and said, "I'm sorry."
Some tears spilled from Ellie's eyes and she looked away again. Snape felt terrible, sitting opposite her and being unable to help. Nothing in his life had prepared him to tell a tearful 11 year old that it wasn't her fault that she had magically killed two other children when she was only seven years old. And he didn't know what else to say that could possibly minimize her guilt.
He was suddenly reminded of another scene, many years ago. After Lily's death and the fall of the dark lord, he had cried to Dumbledore and begged him to somehow make it right, to bring her back. Dumbledore had not tried to comfort him or ease his guilt. Instead, he had made Snape vow to protect Lily's child, Harry, when he became old enough to enter the wizarding world himself.
He had come to resent that word as bond over the years of waiting for Harry to grow up, but at the time it had given him the purpose and sense of direction that he needed to keep living. He could think of no such mission to give Ellie, though. He had looked into it, and neither of the deceased girls had any known relatives. No one claimed them, and they had been buried at a local cemetery together, without much ceremony.
"All you can do is keep moving forward, Ellie. But if it would help you move on, you could say goodbye."
Leaving the plates and the forms on the table, Snape led her out of the house. Fluffy white clouds drifted mockingly overhead, and the birdsong sounded shrill and unpleasant. They walked past the playground, through the old factory district, and out toward the emerging countryside beyond until they reached a pristine church graveyard on the very edge of town. It didn't take long to find the gravestones, small and white and devoid of the molding wreaths and flowers that decorated the neighboring plots.
Snape made two small bouquets appear and held them out for Ellie to take, but she shook her head. She took out her own wand and asked, "Can I?"
As her guardian, it was Snape's responsibility to stop her from doing magic outside school, but this didn't seem like a good time to enforce that, so he vanished the flowers and stepped back.
Ellie knelt down in front of the two graves and clasped her wand in both hands, almost in prayer. In a small wavering voice, she began to sing. Snape couldn't be certain, but he thought that the words may have been in Hebrew. He didn't recognize it as a spell, but after a few moments he noticed some movement in the grass between the graves and realized that it must be magic.
The melody was simple and clean, repeating endlessly even as the words changed. Almost without meaning to, he found himself humming along to the melancholy tune. The rise and fall of the music vibrated in his chest and he could feel the power of it, even without the lyrics. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, little green shoots rose up and bloomed into delicate wildflowers around the two graves. Snape let his voice fade away while Ellie continued to sing.
Eventually, Ellie stopped her song and lowered her wand. She stood up slowly, brushing the dirt from her knees and stood next to Snape. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were still damp, but the tears had stopped. He put an arm around her shoulders and they stood there together, watching and waiting. The wildflowers swayed idly in the gentle breeze but grew no more.