Ties That Bind - Year 2

It wasn't long before it was time for the first Quidditch practice of the year. Estelle wasn’t exactly nervous, but she was eager to prove herself to her team. That morning, she had woken up early and immediately changed into her new Quidditch uniform before heading down to breakfast with Hermione, who made sure to wish her extra good luck. Her parents had sent her a Nimbus 2000 the day after she had made the team, a gesture that filled her with confidence and the excitement of having her broom back.
Once Harry was finally awake and ready, the team began making their way to the Quidditch pitch. As they walked, Oliver Wood, their team captain, turned to them with a determined look gracing his hard-set eyes. “I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We’re going to train earlier, harder, and longer,” he announced.
Some of the team looked shocked at this declaration. Katie Bell blurted out, “What?” while Angelina mumbled in disbelief, “I don’t believe it.” The subs behind them shaking their heads as well.
As the Gryffindor team made their way out of the castle, they spotted the Slytherin team, also dressed in their Quidditch uniforms, heading towards the pitch. Wood’s eyes narrowed, and he strode purposefully toward Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain.
“Where do you think you’re going, Flint?” Wood demanded.
“Quidditch practice,” Flint answered confidently, crossing his arms as he stared down Wood.
“I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today,” Wood argued, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Easy, Wood. I’ve got a note,” Flint replied smugly, handing over a piece of parchment.
Wood snatched the note and read it, his frown deepening with each word. Sensing trouble, Ron, Hermione, and Nikolai, who had been watching the exchange from a bench, hurried over to join the Gryffindor team.
As they arrived, Nikolai asked Estelle in a low voice, “Ist alles ok?” (Is everything okay?)
“Je ne sais pas,” (I don’t know) Estelle replied, her eyes on Wood as he read the note aloud.
“‘I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practise today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.’”
Flint’s smirk broadened as he looked at Wood, who was clearly seething. Then, with a glance back at his team, Wood added, “You’ve got a new Seeker, who?”
Estelle tensed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nikolai roll his eyes. She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who the new Slytherin Seeker was, and she wasn’t looking forward to the reveal.
Nikolai scoffed as Draco Malfoy stepped forward from the back of the Slytherin team. “Malfoy?” Harry questioned, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“That’s right,” Malfoy drawled, a smug smile on his face. “And that’s not all that’s new this year.” He shifted his broom, drawing attention to it.
Ron’s eyes widened as he took in the sleek broomsticks the Slytherins were holding. “Those are Nimbus 2001s! How did you get those?”
“A gift from Draco’s father,” Marcus Flint answered with a grin.
Malfoy’s smirk deepened. “You see, Weasley, unlike some, my father can afford the best.”
“Connasse,” (asshole) Estelle muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing at Malfoy, though he didn’t make a move like he had heard it.
Hermione, however, did not stay quiet. “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.”
Estelle couldn’t help but laugh at Hermione’s retort, admiration shining in her eyes as she looked at her friend, hearing Nikolai’s chuckles from beside her. But the laughter died in her throat as Malfoy’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, positioning himself between Estelle and Hermione.
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” Malfoy sneered.
In an instant, rage surged through Estelle. She lunged at the boy, grabbing him by the collar with every intention of teaching him a lesson, but Nikolai was quick to pull her back, preventing her from getting a punch in, crying out “Lea!” Frustrated, Estelle redirected her energy, grabbing onto Hermione’s hand in a show of solidarity and care.
Ron, fuming, drew his wand and pointed it at Malfoy. “You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy. Eat slugs!”
The spell backfired, and with a flash of light, Ron was thrown back. The Gryffindors rushed to Ron’s side as the Slytherins stood back, laughing. All except Nikolai, who was glaring daggers at Draco.
“I don’t care how many daddy issues you have, Malfoy, that was too far,” Nikolai spat with disgust, turning his back on the Slytherin and heading over to check on Ron, who was green and clearly unwell. For a brief moment, Nikolai thought he saw a flicker of guilt in Malfoy’s eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, as it always seemed to.
“You okay, Ron?” Hermione asked, her voice filled with concern. Ron was always pale, but he looked even worse now, his face contorted in discomfort. He didn’t answer, instead bending over and starting to vomit slugs. The sight made Estelle wince, and without another word, the group rushed Ron off to Hagrid’s hut, and though she thought they should have taken him to the hospital wing, she followed her friends anyway, not wanting to leave Ron in his current state. The five quickly made their way to Hagrid's hut, explaining the situation as they arrived. Hagrid, always ready to help, ushered them inside and had them sit down while he went off to fetch something, returning with a bucket. “This calls for a specialist’s equipment,” he said, handing the bucket to Ron, who was still heaving slugs. “Nothing to do but wait till it stops, I’m afraid.” Ron grimaced, but managed to get out a few more slugs into the bucket. “Better out than in,” Hagrid remarked. Then, with a concerned look, he asked, “Who was Ron trying to curse anyway?”
“Malfoy,” Nikolai answered through gritted teeth, and Estelle couldn’t help but scoff at the name, her anger still simmering at the thought of the boy. The twins locked eyes and in that moment, she saw the underlying anger Nikolai would try to hide so dearly; she knew that if she were to offer to cuff Malfoy, he would most likely say yes, though the hard feeling in her chest made her know that she wouldn’t even ask this time around.
“What did Malfoy do this time?” Hagrid raised an eyebrow.
Harry started to explain, “He called Hermione... well, I don’t exactly know what it means—”
But Hermione, who had been pacing with a mix of frustration and hurt, cut him off. "He called me a Mudblood," she said, her voice tinged with anger.
Hagrid’s eyes widened in shock. “He did not!” he exclaimed, clearly appalled.
Harry, looking confused, asked, “What’s a Mudblood?”
Hermione took a deep breath, her emotions barely held in check. “It means dirty blood. Mudblood’s a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone like me… It’s not a term one usually hears in civilised conversation.”
Hermione hung her head low, the weight of Malfoy’s words still pressing heavily on her. Hagrid, noticing her distress, tried to make better sense of it for Harry. “See the thing is, Harry, there’s some wizards, like the Malfoy family, who think they’re better than everyone else, because they are what people call pure-blood.”
“That’s horrible!” Harry exclaimed, his voice full of outrage. Meanwhile, Ron, still struggling with the effects of his backfired curse, managed to gasp out, “It’s disgusting,” before vomiting another slug into the bucket.
Estelle, watching Ron, couldn’t quite tell if he was referring to the pureblood ideology or the slugs, but she quickly decided that either way, she absolutely agreed. “And it’s complete codswallop, too,” Hagrid added, his tone firm. “Dirty blood? There isn’t a wizard alive today that’s not half-blood or less! I mean, look at Nik and Stella– both half-bloods, both from a pureblood family.” Hagrid’s words struck a chord, and he continued, “More to the point, they’ve yet to think of a spell that our Hermione can’t do. Don’t you think on it, Hermione– not for one minute.”
Hermione, though still teary-eyed, couldn’t help but smile at Hagrid’s words. Seeing her like that, Estelle felt a pang in her chest– she hated seeing Hermione cry. Without a second thought, she reached out and gently took Hermione’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Come here, génie," (genius) she whispered softly. Hermione allowed herself to be pulled closer, laying her head on Estelle’s shoulder. Estelle wrapped her arm around her friend, offering comfort in the warmth of the embrace.
****
Estelle noticed Malfoy and his usual gang walking through the corridors. Without a word to her friends, she quietly broke off from the group and followed Malfoy at a distance with practised silent footsteps. As they reached the entrance to the boys’ toilets, Malfoy’s friends continued on, leaving him to enter alone. Perfect, she thought. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for– getting him alone. She didn’t intend to hurt him, not yet at least, she’d only been at Hogwarts a year and a bit, but she needed to make sure he understood that what he said to Hermione earlier would not be tolerated. Estelle waited patiently outside, keeping her dignity intact by avoiding the boys’ toilets and its rumoured horrors. When Malfoy finally emerged, she moved quickly, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him against the wall. “Wha-what are you doing, you freak?” Malfoy stammered, his usual bravado faltering. “I’ll tell my father about this!”
Estelle remained unfazed trying to keep her newly-bubbling anger from spilling over. “Then tell him,” she replied coldly, her grip tightening. “And while you’re at it, maybe your daddy can buy you lessons in how to be a decent fucking human being.”
It wasn’t often that Estelle or Nikolai swore in English– they never did, in fact, it was how they got around swearing in front of their parents– but Estelle was beyond furious. Leaning in closer, she continued, her voice low and dangerous, “Understand this, ferret, this is just a warning. If you ever insult any of my friends again the way you did today, you’ll get a much worse treatment next time. You can call us poor, traitors, and taunt us all you like– me and Hugo, we couldn’t give two shits about your ignorant opinion. But if you ever use that word again for Hermione, or anyone for that matter, I promise you next time, no one will be holding me back."
Malfoy’s usual smugness had melted away when he realised Estelle was dead serious and that his typical threats weren’t going to work. “I-I’ll tell your brother,” he stammered weakly, grasping for anything that might save him.
Estelle couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic attempt to regain control. She knew that Malfoy must have been indoctrinated into the pureblood beliefs he so often spouted, and while she could understand where his actions came from, that didn’t mean she would tolerate them. “Try it, Malfoy, but you should thank Hugo for stopping me from doing this in front of your little posse,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “But next time, I swear, he won’t stop me from embarrassing you in front of everyone.”
With her message delivered and seeing that Malfoy was thoroughly shaken, Estelle released him and walked away with a smile on her face, satisfied that she’d made her point. As she returned to her group of friends, she caught Nikolai’s eye and gave him a nod. Nikolai cocked his head and smirked back knowingly, understanding exactly what she had been up to, before walking to his common room. Noticing Stella’s return, Hermione immediately asked, “Where were you?” But the question was quickly answered as they walked past a terrified looking Malfoy, his usual arrogance nowhere to be seen.
“Stella,” Harry said in disbelief, his eyes wide as he connected the dots.
“What?” Estelle replied with mock innocence, a smirk playing on her lips. “I didn’t hurt him or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Relieved that Estelle hadn’t crossed any lines, and amused by the sight of their deflated bully, Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Hermione and Stella dropped Harry and Ron off at their respective detentions before heading back to their dorms to get some homework done. They planned to pick the boys up later so they could all walk to the Halloween dinner together.
After about an hour, the girls left to find Ron, who was busy polishing trophies, and with him in tow, they headed toward the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom to find Harry. But before they reached it, they spotted him sprinting down the corridor, his ear pressed against the wall, a panicked and confused expression on his face.
“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed in surprise.
Harry, looking frantic, replied, “Did you hear it?”
“Hear what?” Ron asked, confused.
“That voice,” Harry answered, eyes wide with urgency.
“Voice? What voice?” Hermione pressed, concern growing in her voice.
“I heard it first in Lockhart's office, and then again just…” Harry trailed off, looking around as if trying to catch the voice again. “It's moving. I think it's going to kill.” With that, he bolted past them, following the invisible sound.
“Harry! Harry, slow down! Where are you going?!” Estelle shouted as she ran after him, worry gnawing at her.
As they hurried down the corridor, they saw Nikolai ambling toward the Great Hall, presumably late for dinner. Estelle didn’t have time to question him, so she grabbed him by the arm, pulling him along with them.
"Was passiert?!" (What's happening?!) Nikolai exclaimed, startled.
"Harry ist verrückt geworden!" (Harry has gone crazy!) Estelle shouted back, still chasing after Harry.
Eventually, the five of them rounded a corner and Harry came to an abrupt stop, the others skidding to a halt behind him. They looked down to find themselves standing in a puddle of water, which was odd to say the least– magical schools usually didn’t have maintenance issues like this. Harry started following the trail of water, and Nikolai, ever cautious, called out, “I don’t know if following the mysterious water is a smart idea, Harry.”
Estelle leaned in and whispered to Nikolai, “No, it’s not, but he’s not gonna listen, and we’re not going to let him get himself killed.”
Nikolai sighed and nodded in agreement. They both knew they had to stick with Harry, no matter how strange his actions seemed. As they continued, they spotted a trail of spiders climbing up a wall and out of a window. Knowing Estelle’s fear of spiders, Nikolai instinctively took her arm and pushed her behind him. Usually, Estelle was the one protecting Nikolai, but when it came to spiders, he was always the one shielding her.
“Strange…” Harry muttered, stating the obvious.
Estelle and Nikolai exchanged looks that clearly said, "No kidding."
“I’ve never seen spiders act like that,” Harry added, his curiosity piqued.
Ron, looking uneasy, admitted, “I don't like spiders.”
“Me neither,” Estelle whispered from behind her brother.
Hermione glanced back at Estelle, a bit surprised since this was the first time she had seen Estelle actually afraid of something, aside from the fear of being crushed by a troll. The sight of her standing behind Nikolai rather than the other way round was almost as strange as the spiders.
Suddenly, Ron noticed something in the corner of his eye. “What's that?” he asked, staring into the reflection in the water. The others followed his gaze, looking at the wall above them. Their eyes widened in shock as they read the ominous message smeared on the wall.
“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir... beware,” Hermione read aloud, her voice trembling.
“That’s blood.” Nikolai pointed out in fear and concern.
“Oh no,” Harry whispered, looking off to the side. He stepped forward, his gaze fixed on a cat hanging by its tail.
“It's Mrs Norris,” Estelle said, her voice a mix of shock and sadness. “I know she was mean, but who would hurt a cat?”
Just then, students began to flood the hall after the Halloween feast. They all stopped in their tracks, staring at the scene before them– the five students standing in the water, the bloody message on the wall, and Mrs Norris hanging lifelessly.
“Enemies of the heir beware. You’ll be next, Mud…” Malfoy’s voice cut through the murmurs, but he hesitated as Estelle shot him a death glare, followed by a chuckle from Nikolai. “Muggle-borns,” he corrected, though his tone still carried that familiar taunt. It was progress, albeit small.
Mr. Filch’s voice suddenly rose above the chatter. “What's going on here? Go on, make way, make way. Potter, what are you...?” His eyes fell on Mrs. Norris, and for the first time, Estelle saw a genuine emotion flash across the man’s face– shock and grief. “M-Mrs. Norris? You’ve... murdered my cat.”
“No, no,” Harry tried to explain, but Filch wasn’t listening.
“I'll kill you! I'll kill you!” Filch shouted, grabbing Harry’s collar in a fit of rage.
Without hesitation, Estelle stepped forward, trying to pry Filch’s hand off Harry’s uniform. “He didn’t kill Mrs. Norris,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Filch made a move to grab Harry again, but was stopped by the calm yet commanding voice of Dumbledore. “Argus? Argus, I-” Even Dumbledore seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight before him. “Everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately. Everyone except you five,” he added, his gaze resting on Harry, Ron, Hermione, Estelle, and Nikolai. Nikolai’s gaze flicked over to Malfoy who’s eyes lingered on him before noticing he was caught and turning quickly, following the group. Estelle’s threat must have worked well, Nikolai supposed. Once the students had filtered out of the hallway, Dumbledore addressed the small group left behind. “She’s not dead, Argus. She has been petrified.”
Lockhart, ever eager to insert himself into the situation, chimed in, “Ah, thought so. So unlucky I wasn’t there. I know exactly the countercurse that could’ve spared her.”
Estelle scoffed quietly at the man’s obvious lies, stifling a giggle when Dumbledore gave a very slow, deliberate nod in response. “But how she’s been petrified, I cannot say,” Dumbledore added.
Before anyone could speculate, Filch interrupted, his voice laced with accusation, “Ask him.” He nodded toward Harry. “It’s him that’s done it. You saw what he wrote on the wall.”
Harry immediately tried to defend himself. “It’s not true, sir. I swear.”
To everyone’s surprise, it was Snape who spoke next. "If I might, Headmaster? Perhaps Potter and his friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. However... the circumstances are suspicious. I, for one, don’t recall seeing Potter at dinner."
Estelle, not one to let her friends be wrongfully accused, stepped forward. “Professor, Harry is telling the truth. He was in detention with Professor Lockhart, then with us. Plus, he’s only a second-year, and not exactly top of the class– he wouldn’t even know how to do this, even if he wanted to." She shot a quick apologetic look towards Harry who only shrugged it off in thanks.
Dumbledore nodded, considering her words, then Lockhart spoke up, “I’m afraid Miss Wolfe is right, Severus. You see, Harry was helping me answer my fan mail.”
Hermione, determined to support Harry, added, “That’s why we went looking for him, Professor. We just found him when he said..." She trailed off, hesitating until Estelle lightly kicked her foot, signalling her to stop before saying too much.
“Yes, Miss Granger?” Snape prodded, his tone laced with suspicion.
“When I said I wasn’t hungry,” Harry quickly interjected. “We were heading back to the common room when we found Mrs. Norris.”
Snape raised an eyebrow, scrutinising Harry’s explanation, “And so why, may I ask, was someone from my own house accompanying you?” His eyes fell on Nikolai and he tried not to squirm, opening his mouth to respond.
“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,” Dumbledore said simply, though Mr. Filch was far from satisfied.
“My cat has been petrified. I want to see some punishment!” Filch demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. Estelle found she even felt bad for the man. If she had found Nugget petrified, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
Dumbledore, ever patient, reassured him, “We will be able to cure her, Argus. As I understand it, Madam Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrake. When matured, a potion will be made that will revive Mrs. Norris.”
The twins shared a look which could only mean, “this is what we said” about the Mandrakes and possible foreshadowing.
Filch’s anger turned to relief, though he was still visibly shaken. “And in the meantime,” Dumbledore continued, addressing the group, “I strongly recommend caution. To all.”

As they walked back to their common room, Hermione spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. “It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”
“Strange?” Harry questioned, agreeing while not quite understanding what she was getting at.
“You hear this voice, a voice only you can hear, and then Mrs. Norris turns up petrified. It’s just... strange,” Hermione elaborated, her brow furrowed in thought.
Harry looked troubled. “Do you think I should have told them? Dumbledore and the others, I mean?”
Ron quickly interjected, “Are you mad?”
Estelle cut in before Harry could respond, her tone serious. "No, Harry, even in the wizarding world, hearing voices isn’t exactly a good sign."

They continued up the stairs toward the common room, the unease lingering between them. As they reached the Gryffindor Tower, Estelle and Hermione broke off from the group and made their way into their dorm room. Once inside, Hermione turned to Estelle.
“Hey, Stella.”
“Yeah, Mione?” Estelle replied, already sensing that something was on Hermione’s mind.
“Thanks for standing up for me today,” Hermione said, her voice soft but sincere.
Estelle smiled warmly at Hermione’s gratitude. “It was my pleasure. Nobody deserves to be called such names, génie.” (genius)
“Génie?” Hermione repeated, curiosity piqued. “You called me that before, what does it mean?”
Estelle chuckled softly. “It means genius in French. Because you are. A genius, I mean. Not French.”
Hermione laughed, a lightness returning to her mood. But then another question popped into her mind. “Today, Hagrid said that you and Nik were half-bloods from pureblood families. What did he mean by that?”
For a moment, it struck Estelle that Hermione hadn’t grown up in the wizarding world and that there were still things she might not know. Despite all of Hermione’s reading and knowledge, some aspects of wizarding culture, like pureblood family dynamics, were often learned through experience and word of mouth.
Estelle explained, “Well, my dad is a Muggle, but my mom comes from a very prominent pureblood family, the Bulstrodes. Most pureblood families share the same ideals that Malfoy does, so you can imagine what kind of relationship we have with our extended family. Though, Millie’s cool,” she added with a smile, referring to Millicent Bulstrode.
Hermione made a face, half grimace, half sympathy. “Family functions must be horrible.”
Estelle laughed at Hermione’s joke. “Yeah, they are,” she said, still giggling.
The two girls then got ready for bed, the earlier tension of the day melting away in comfort. They wished each other goodnight before drifting off to sleep.