𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀 | No way out, nothingness, or the impenetrable. A puzzle or something puzzling.
Esmerelda spent the school year dog-hunting after discovering the truth about the mortal side of her family during a 'visit' to the Underworld. Her summer v...
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▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER SIXTEEN ▬▬▬▬
ESMERELDA STILL COULDN'T TALK THE next day, but that was to be expected. A slit throat couldn't heal over night after all, but with the aid of magical healing potions and salves, plus the usage of nectar and ambrosia, her throat was expected to heal in a few weeks according to Madam Pomfrey.
But for now, Esmerelda had to settle with waiting.
The morning before she, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were to be discharged from the hospital wing (well, Madam Pomfrey insisted on having Esmerelda stay longer actually) they were having a deep discussion about Esmerelda's... parentage.
"So Sirius Black is actually your uncle and he took you in because your dad—who was a Death Eater—didn't want you to face any prejudice because of him," Hermione surmised.
Esmerelda nodded. Don't tell anyone please? My dad wished for it to be a secret, and Sirius and I want to keep it that way.
The three of them nodded.
"It was surprisingly nice of that Regulus bloke to keep you hidden even if he was a Death Eater," Ron said through a mouthful of chocolate.
"Ron," Hermione hissed. "Tact! Use it!"
Harry looked really sheepish. "For a while, I actually thought you were Voldemort's daughter." He admitted.
"That, or You-Know-Who had a sister," Hermione added with an amused smile.
Harry grumbled under his breath and nudged her with his elbow.
It's fine, really, Esmerelda assured, finger writing the words down in the air. The trio always seemed to be mesmerized to watch her do it. She guessed it was because she was using wandless and non-verbal magic. She'd use her wand, but she was pretty sure she lost it. Can't blame you for thinking that. My life's pretty much a mystery.
"I still can't believe Black's your uncle," Ron said. "You know, that makes us distantly related? I'm pretty sure I had a great uncle or something from my mum's side marry a Black. His name was Ignatius, I think."
"All Purebloods are related, distantly or not," Hermione stated in a matter-of-factly tone. "Harry, your father was a Pureblood, which means you're distantly related to Essie too."
His eyes popped out. "Seriously?"
"Forget about that though," she waved a dismissive hand. She turned to Esmerelda with, wide, curious eyes. "How come Snape knows about you and Sirius—well, what he believes to know?"
First year, Dumbledore and the House Heads found out about my 'dad'. He told them not to tell anyone to save me from any prejudice, but Snape, naturally, had to be an ass, she explained.
"Uh, you spelled 'prejudice' wrong," Ron said helpfully, but Harry nudged him.
"She's dyslexic, Ron," Hermione deadpanned. "Don't worry, Essie, the rest of your words were spelled correctly."
