Emily Potter's Story
written by ♫Aequoreal♫
What if Harry had an older sister? What if she was famous and not him? Everything would be different, wouldn't it? (Feedback is very welcome! And I'm still updating!)
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
26
Reads
675
Spilling the Beans
Chapter 7
"Fred! George! Ginny! Go bring Emily up her cookies!" I hear Mum call from downstairs. She's made me lie in my camp bed in Fred and George's room. They decided against moving me to Ginny's in the end. The door opens and the three of them come in.
"I don't swallow that pathetic lie you guys told Mum!" Ginny bursts out the second the door is shut.
"Good, because I'm going to tell you the truth. Or what I know of it anyways," I explain. "I don't know anything really though. All I know is I woke up in a dark room and I was in agony, I felt sick. I could feel cold liquid running down my arm. I went to look and something was there; something I'd never seen before. I don't recall how it got there or who put it there. I think someone must have erased my memory of them."
"What did you find on your arm?" Ginny asked terrified.
"This." I roll up my sleeve. They gasp. Ginny has tears rimming in her eyes.
"All I saw was this turbaned dude carrying you when I looked back. I thought, at the time, that maybe Fred and George were playing an ultimate prank on you," Ginny says regretfully. "I should have thought about it! I should have stayed with you!"
"Gins, it's not your fault," I say soothingly, rubbing circles in her back. Fred, I noticed, wasn't saying much.
"Freddie?" I ask tentatively.
"Are you under the imperius curse or something?" he asks.
"I don't think so. It doesn't feel like that," I say. Oh yeah, I was put under the imperius curse by Marcus Flint in my second year. I managed to resist it but I still know what it's like. You feel floaty and free under it's influence. "i don't think it was really Voldemort."
The others gasp. The Weasleys, like other wizarding families, have this irrational fear of saying Voldemort's name.
"It was probably someone trying to scare me, or to stop me making friends or something petty like that," I say confidently although I don't feel confident at all.
"How long do you plan on hiding this from Mum?" Fred asks nervously.
"As long as I can," I reply. I roll down my sleeve anxiously. I won't be able to get away with wearing long sleeves forever. It's the summer holidays; the peak of summer.
"I don't swallow that pathetic lie you guys told Mum!" Ginny bursts out the second the door is shut.
"Good, because I'm going to tell you the truth. Or what I know of it anyways," I explain. "I don't know anything really though. All I know is I woke up in a dark room and I was in agony, I felt sick. I could feel cold liquid running down my arm. I went to look and something was there; something I'd never seen before. I don't recall how it got there or who put it there. I think someone must have erased my memory of them."
"What did you find on your arm?" Ginny asked terrified.
"This." I roll up my sleeve. They gasp. Ginny has tears rimming in her eyes.
"All I saw was this turbaned dude carrying you when I looked back. I thought, at the time, that maybe Fred and George were playing an ultimate prank on you," Ginny says regretfully. "I should have thought about it! I should have stayed with you!"
"Gins, it's not your fault," I say soothingly, rubbing circles in her back. Fred, I noticed, wasn't saying much.
"Freddie?" I ask tentatively.
"Are you under the imperius curse or something?" he asks.
"I don't think so. It doesn't feel like that," I say. Oh yeah, I was put under the imperius curse by Marcus Flint in my second year. I managed to resist it but I still know what it's like. You feel floaty and free under it's influence. "i don't think it was really Voldemort."
The others gasp. The Weasleys, like other wizarding families, have this irrational fear of saying Voldemort's name.
"It was probably someone trying to scare me, or to stop me making friends or something petty like that," I say confidently although I don't feel confident at all.
"How long do you plan on hiding this from Mum?" Fred asks nervously.
"As long as I can," I reply. I roll down my sleeve anxiously. I won't be able to get away with wearing long sleeves forever. It's the summer holidays; the peak of summer.
