The Burning Pen

An Unlikely Savior
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 32 ~ Talks and Detention

Once Molly got over her shock about the news of Eileen’s existence and spent an hour or so berating and calling Severus Snape every name she could think of and then some, the matriarch of the Weasley family got to work.

”That poor girl, being deprived of family the way she was,” she hissed as she tied on her apron and set her knitting needles to work. “We just have to let her know that it’s not her fault her father is a selfish, sneaky bucket of scum and we won’t hold that against her, Ginny.”

”Right, mum,” Ginny said, smirking at her father, who winked at her. Harry had chickened out at the last minute as so Ginny had to tell her mum about Eileen all alone. Molly took it rather well once she understood Hermione hadn’t cheated on her son.

Molly grabbed several ingredients from the cabinets and cooler, doing what came naturally when disturbing news came around.

That was making comfort food.

Molly dumped some flour into a bowl as the knitting needles clicked away.

“And poor Hermione. She must be going to pieces over it. But my Ron will be there for her. He’s such an understanding husband, just like you, Arthur.”

”A chip off the old cauldron,” Arthur agreed good-naturedly as the savory smell of seasoned meat and onions and other spices rose from a frying pan shaking itself on the stove. Molly seemed to have more arms and hands than most people when she was in the kitchen. She was the ultimate multi-tasker when it came to cooking.

Ginny left and Molly and Arthur were left alone at the Burrow, the witch making savory meat pies, treacle tarts and a number of delicious treats. When Arthur tried to pluck a steaming meat pie off the plate, Molly slapped his hand away and shook her finger at him warningly.

”These are not for you, Arthur!” she snapped. “These are for our new granddaughter.”

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When Eileen returned to Slytherin house and entered her room, she was greeted by a wonderful smell. She frowned at a box resting on her bed. That had to be the source of the smell. She picked it up. It was warm and had a note attached to it. She pulled the note off and slowly read it.

To Eileen,

Welcome to the family.

Arthur and Molly Weasley

Arthur and Molly? Who were they? Maybe Rose’s father’s parents? She sat down on the bed, opened the box and found another package inside and underneath that, meat pies, treacle tarts and small cakes with icing on them. They smelled wonderful.

Eileen picked up the package. It was soft. She slowly unwrapped it and pulled out a green knit hat with a ridiculous silver pom-pom on it and the letter “E” embroidered in silver on the front. There were matching green gloves, each also emblazoned with the letter “E.”

”Great. I’m an honorary Weasley,” she said under her breath, but—she smiled a little, then walked over to the mirror and pulled on the hat. It was well-made and warm. She knew now that it came from Rose’s and Hugo’s grandmum. She pulled on the gloves and studied them for a moment before taking them back off. She put them on the top shelf of her wardrobe along with the hat. She returned to the bed and plucked a still warm meat pie out of the box. She bit into it, and her eyes fluttered with bliss as the savory filling filled her mouth. It was the most delicious meat pie she’d ever tasted.

”I’ve got to get this recipe,” she said around a mouthful of pie.

Afterwards, she ate one of the small cakes, then put the rest of the food away, applying a stasis spell to the box to keep them fresh. Then she pulled out her schoolwork and got busy. It was Friday night and all the other students were out and about, but Eileen usually stayed in, studying and reading.

It was what she was used to. Tomorrow, Sunday and Monday she’d be serving her detentions with Hagrid. The professor had contacted her by owl and said she could do day detention on Saturday and Sunday if she liked rather than work in the evening when it was colder. She wrote him back and agreed. She was to meet him at the caretaker’s hut at three in the afternoon and would be dismissed at five, in time for supper.

That didn’t sound too bad.

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At breakfast Saturday morning, Eileen received a note in the shape of a hippogriff. It was from Hugo.

Hi Eileen,

I want to talk to you after breakfast. Meet me outside. Don’t worry. No one is going to come after you or me. We’ve got it all settled. Don’t be mad.

Your brother,
Hugo

Eileen read the note and looked over at the Gryffindor table. Most of them were looking back at her because they saw Hugo send her the note. The whispering about her parentage had died down rather quickly, since Rose, Hugo, Lily, James and Albus had taken to saying, “That’s old news now. There’s nothing more to say about it.”

Without adequate reaction, juicy gossip dies a quick death.

Hugo had puppy dog eyes as he looked at Eileen, who frowned at him, but nodded nearly imperceptibly. Hugo gave her a happy smile and she just shook her head and returned to her breakfast. He was just—so easy.

Eileen finished her breakfast and did as she promised, going back to Slytherin house to get her cloak, and after a moment’s hesitation, pulling on the hat and gloves Molly sent her. It was cold out after all.

When she exited the castle, Hugo was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. His blue eyes lit up immediately when he saw the hat and gloves.

”Wow! You have Weasley gear! Cool!” he said delightedly as Eileen looked down her nose at him. “I told you grandmum would love you.”

Eileen blinked at him. Love? She’d just sent her a hat, gloves and some treats. It didn’t mean she loved her, just that she was being nice.

”They’re warm. No need wasting them,” she said tightly as they began to walk across the cold grounds. Other students were about as well, scraping up the thin crust of snow and making tiny weapons to fling at each other. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

”First, I’m really sorry about what happened when we were flying,” Hugo said apologetically. “Rose didn’t mean for everyone to come after you, Eileen. She really didn’t.”

Eileen didn’t say anything. It was understandable that Hugo would try to defend Rose, but she wasn’t buying it.

”But listen, we all had a talk. Me, James, Albus, Lily and Rose, and Rose made them all promise to treat you—treat you—“

Hugo hesitated, trying to make it sound good, even though James and Albus didn’t like her.

”To treat you with respect. So, no one’s going to bother you, Eileen. You’re one of the family and it’s all accepted!”

”Hallelujah,” she said sarcastically.

Hugo frowned up at her.

”Aren’t you happy about that? I am. It means we can hang out together without being bothered,” he told her.

Eileen stopped walking and looked down at him. Oh, those freckles.

”Hugo, you’re the only one in your family willing to give me a chance.”

”No, I’m not. Lily is too! She wants to give you a tea party,” he said staunchly.
Eileen's mouth quirked a bit. A tea party? Good Grindelows. But she let the comment pass.

“What about James, Albus and Rose? I’m sure they don’t want to give me a tea party,” she replied, her mouth turning down.

Hugo looked down at the ground and kicked at a bit of snow before he answered.

”Well, to be honest, James and Albus don’t want much to do with you, Eileen. They’re idiots. James is still mad you got the drop on him, and Albus sticks to whatever James does. But, I think Rose is ready to try and be nicer. I’m not sure, but I really think she is. She promised not to interfere anymore at least.”

Eileen didn’t say anything as she turned back toward the castle and began to walk, Hugo by her side.

“You’ll—you’ll still take me flying sometimes, won’t you?” he asked her in a worried voice.

She looked at him. Out of all of this mess, Hugo remained true. He was willing to even fight his own housemates to protect her. He might be a Gryffindor, but his heart really was in the right place.

”Sure, I’ll take you flying, but you’re going to have to wait until we come back from Christmas vacation,” she told him. I’ve got detention today and tomorrow with professor Hagrid. And we let out of school on Wednesday.”

”Why do you have detention? Not because of what happened?”

Eileen shook her head.

”No, Hugo. I walked out of class without permission,” she replied.

”Why?”

”You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

”Yes. But I have to ask them if I want answers, don’t I?”

Eileen shook her head at Hugo’s simple logic. He was so uncomplicated. It was just all—out there.

”I didn’t want to hear people talking about your mother and my father,” she told him.

”She’s your mum, too, Eileen. You’ve got to get used to that, you know. When are you going to see her? Christmas? That would be great. You could come to the Burrow with us. I bet you’d be neck deep in presents. You’re owed them for years and years! And you could meet grandmum and granddad. It would be fun, Eileen.”

Eileen had told Rose in a fit of anger that she would show up on Christmas, but she had just been mad. She always spent Christmas with her father and wouldn’t leave him alone on that day.

”I spend Christmas with my dad, Hugo. It’s usually just me and him.”

”Maybe he could come, too?”

”I don’t think so. There’d probably be a Christmas brawl and I’d have to side with him against everybody,” she said honestly. “Not that he’d go anyway.”

Hugo thought about it. Eileen was right. Even James and Albus said her father needed his arse kicked.

”Maybe after Christmas then? Before we come back to school?”

”I’ll think about it, Hugo.”

”Promise?”

Eileen sighed. Hugo was really pushy—but the reason she didn’t light into him was because he was trying to bring his family together. He was too young to really understand all the problems involved. He thought everything should just be embraced. Still—

“I promise, Hugo,” she said as they arrived back at the castle.

He smiled at her.

”I know you don’t break promises, Eileen,” he said with quiet assurance.

”I try not to make them in the first place,” she retorted, frowning. “I don’t like obligations.”

“No, but you like me,” he said, grinning.

Eileen gave an amused snort. She couldn’t help herself. She walked up the stairs.

“The jury’s still out on that, Hugo,” she said.

Hugo hurried past Eileen, opened the door for her and replied, “You’re not a good liar, Eileen. You should stick to the truth.”

Eileen raised both eyebrows in surprise and shook her head at her brother as she entered the castle.

Hugo was something else.

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”Hey now! Come down off’n thar! Nothin’s gon ter hurt yeh!”

Eileen stood on top of a tree stump in the middle of the niffler pen, her trembling wand waving this way and that in one hand as she held a bucket of grubs in the other. The little rodents gamboled about, wriggling their creepy little noses at her and standing on their hind legs scenting what she had in the bucket. Dinner.

”I—I don’t like nifflers, professor,” she said, her eyes wet. She kicked at a niffler who had the gall to try and climb up the stump.

“Nifflers won’t do yeh nothin’. No one’s scar’d of ‘em! Tha only dig fer gold an’ eat bugs! Now, come on down from thar!” Hagrid ordered.

”If I come down from this stump, professor, you’re going to have to make yourself one huge niffler-skin winter coat,” the witch hissed as she winced at all the glittering little black eyes staring up at her as the nifflers chattered and scrambled about.

Hagrid had told her they were going to do a feeding. They had fed the Thestrals and mucked out their stalls, then walked down to a little building that looked like it housed chickens. There was a chicken wire fence around it. But when Hagrid opened the door and the nifflers came pouring out, the witch let out a scream and ran for it, hopping up on the highest thing she could find, in this case the tree trunk.

“Jes’ throw the grubs down!” Hagrid told her as she squealed, kicking at the hungry little creatures. “That’ll make ‘em leave yeh be!”

Eileen shuddered, and reluctantly stuck her wand in her pocket. She started shaking out the grubs, but all the nifflers converged in a mass of wriggling bodies, noses and glittering black eyes right at the base of the stump. She couldn’t take the proximity and threw the bucket as far away as possible, then bolted the other way to the gate and through it, closing it back tightly and staring in at Hagrid and the horrible little beasties.

Hagrid shook his scruffy white head as he looked at her.

”Now I see why yeh never took meh advanced class,” he said, walking over and picking up the bucket, dislodging a few clinging nifflers in the process. “Yeh haf no apprecia’shun fer magical creatures.”

“It’s not magical creatures, professor. It’s just nifflers and anything that looks like nifflers. I hate everything about them. How low they are to the ground, how they move, how their noses wriggle, how they swim through the ground for gold, their beady little eyes, the way they chatter, how they leave little pellets everywhere—and their teeth and their claws. They’re just awful.”

Eileen had a run in with a cage full of nifflers when she was about three. She was playing with some Galleons in her father’s back office, put them in her pockets and naughtily unlocked the cage when he told her not to do it. The nifflers smelled the gold in her pockets and swarmed over her, scratching and raking, trying to find the coins.

Snape had to rush in and save her. The creatures had only been doing what came naturally, and her father had scolded her and tended the painful scratches she received. She’d hated nifflers ever since.

Eileen Snape had Nifflerphobia.

“Well, yeh might as well go on back ter tha castle. Yeh won’t be no help roundin’ em up,” Hagrid said.

Eileen thanked him and hurried back to Hogwarts.

None of the nifflers had touched her, but she felt as if she needed a shower. She shuddered.

Damn nifflers.

Ew.

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A/N: lol. Thanks for reading.

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