Chapter One : The Start of the End

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"Potter," Draco grunted, greeting his old enemy at the front door of Ellia's new profound home. Harry glanced at Draco, biting back his tongue at all the words he could say to him.

"Malfoy," he bluntly replied, pushing past him into the house as Draco closed the door behind him. Rolling his eyes at the guest, Draco followed Harry into the living, where Ellia was settled in a chair reading the Daily Prophet. For a split second, Draco and Harry thought that they had seen their old potions Professor in the chair.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ellia asked, springing from the chair and dropping the Daily Prophet. The difference between her and her late father was now clear, and the energy Ellia was emitting pushed Harry towards that conclusion.

"We're all concerned, we haven't seen you around in a while," Harry answered, watching Ellia as she pulled her hand brought her straight hair.

"Oh don't worry, I'm fine," Ellia chuckled, picking up a small bowl of sherbet lemons that sat beside her chair on a little table,"Sherbet Lemon?"

"Urm, please?" Harry answered, picking out a small sherbet lemon that was blanketed in its plastic cover. Now Draco noticed her Dumbledore roots showing through, she'd sat in the same chair all week with the bowl of sherbet lemons.

"Anyway, how's Marley doing?" Ellia asked Harry, intrigued about how to little ginger offspring was doing.

"She's doing good, you should see her sometime. She's grown up a lot," Harry suggested, taking the lemon out of the wrapping and placing it in his mouth.

"I will, it's just I've been busy lately," She sighed, placing the bowl back on the table as Harry sucked on the sweet.

"Busy? El, I'm not being funny but you've been banged up in this house for days, weeks, months even," Draco said, standing beside Harry for once. It was no lie, she'd been separated from everybody around her following the list of funerals she had attended. It was in fact, Draco's first time that month seeing Ellia, she'd again and again given people excuses that she was busy and couldn't see them.

"Draco, please," Ellia said, afraid Harry was bring up the fact that her mental health was now a cause for concern.

"He's right though. I know it hard Ellia, but boxing yourself in this house won't make anything better. You're 16, you should be out there socialising, not reading the Daily Prophet and their lies," Harry agreed, him and Draco finally having something in common.

"You don't know what it's like," Ellia argued, "You find yourself in a dark place."

"It's been six months," Draco replied, his voice calm and quiet.

"You need help, witch or not," Harry followed, his voice mirroring Draco's.

"Well fine, I'll go see Marley, and Teddy, and Panemia, and Aberforth. And I'll drink some happy potion and everything will be the same again. Is that what you're saying?" Ellia argued, falling back into the chair before covering her face with her hands, "It's not that simple."

"Look, your father blamed himself for my mothers, and your mothers death his whole life," Harry started.

"And it made him sour and heartless and cold," Draco carried on.

"So what we're saying is that we won't let you end up like that," Harry said.

"Enemies or not," Draco finished, as Ellia looked up at the pair of them.

"Then what do I do?" Ellia asked them.

"I'll take you up north to Aberforth," Draco said, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her into an embrace in his arms, "And I'll stay there with you and won't leave your side."

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