the one | h. potter

6. smith manor

The next day, I arrive home early in order to get ready. I make sure to dress cute but comfortable and end up in a long, black jumpsuit with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. I braid my hair down the side, fasten my mother's necklace (the one adorned with the Merlin crest) around my neck, and slip on her old wedding ring. I look at myself in the mirror.

Good. Yeah, I look good. Not so good that it's suspicious, but good enough that it looks effortless but still pretty. The flames at the back of my leg tickled mysteriously. The burns are internal, caused by my own subconscious, but they've been burning so often recently that my heel is constantly bright red. I make sure to wear socks that cover the redness and close-toed shoes.

I check the clock on my bedroom wall and find that it's almost time to leave. I'm currently at Smith Manor, my familial home. I haven't decided yet what I want to do with the house; its halls and corridors contain so many happy memories, but I know that I don't want to live here. I've been staying at the Malfoy's for the past few months, and while I know that Draco and Narcissa are happy to have me, I'm afraid to overstay my welcome. I only came back to Smith Manor today to get dressed, because I left all my nicer clothes here. I have to solve my housing situation soon, but that means moving in with a friend or living in this huge house alone. I would have asked Katie, but she just moved in with Daniel and I don't want to intrude.

Katie and I have known each other for years. We originally met when I was in my second year and she was in her third at Hogwarts. We became fast friends; I helped her with homework and she taught me how to make friends and be social. I wasn't very social, but Katie was pretty popular, so as soon as I became her friend, I began to branch out. If it wasn't for Katie, I wouldn't have had a social life (ouch) or developed the skills that saved countless lives.

I wander aimlessly through the halls. We don't have house-elves anymore (since I freed them after the war ended), so the house is covered in a blanket of dust. My feet take me towards the old living room and I stop at the doorway before entering.

There's the sofa where we used to sit, the three of us; me, my mum, and my dad. On Christmas, on Easter, whenever grandad came to visit. A pile of books and old toys sits on the oak shelves built into the wall. A Merlin crest and Smith crest sit side by side in the middle of the wall, surrounded by a couple of old candles and dead flowers. Old photographs of the three of us line the walls. A large print of my parents on their wedding day, my mother holding me the day I was born, the three of us beaming the day I turned five. A single tear runs down my cheek as I try to regain my composure. The last picture I see before I leave the room is a picture of my dad and me, standing in front of my mother's coffin.

Many people think descendants of Merlin are all-powerful; that we can't get hurt or sick, that we're essentially indestructible. But they're wrong. Sure, I'm immune to most poisons, I can do wandless magic, I heal fast, and I'm one of the most powerful witches alive. But that doesn't mean I can't hurt. I can still suffer, still get sick, still feel pain. It shocked so many people when people when my mother died of Dragon Pox; the papers just couldn't believe that an illness killed one of the most powerful witches of their generation. In fact, many reporters believed that we were hiding her real cause of death. No child should have to hear reporters blaming their father for their mother's death.

I run out of the room, memories bubbling to the surface. My mum singing to me on my seventh birthday; my grandad, who died weeks later, hugging the two of us; my dad, who shut himself in his room for months after she died.

The tears threaten to flow down my cheeks but I hold them back and head towards the Floo; it's almost time to go. I hear a hoot and look up to find my screech owl, Athena, flying towards me with a scrap of parchment. She lands on the handrail of one of the staircases. Summoning some owl treats, I walk over and untie the note from her leg. I pet her feathers and let her nip at my hand while I read the note, which says:

Liz,

Forgot to give you my floo address.

It's "Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

I've disabled my wards to let you in.

Harry

I freeze. Harry has wards?

This shouldn't come as a surprise to me, of course he does! He's the most famous wizard in the country, so he can't just let anyone into his house. I look down at my left arm, hoping I don't accidentally trigger any wards. I purse my lips and summon my wand from my room. I'm going to need it when we practice our spells.

I flick my wrist and the fireplace lights up with bright green fire. I throw Floo powder into it and say "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," and step through.

And I scream.