Chapter Text
I woke up crying, covered in slime and gasping for breath. My hands and feet hardly moving to my will. Where was I? I tried to open my eyes but they were stuck, as though glued together.
"Oh, Congratulations Mrs. Cahwel Brown, it's a girl!" I heard someone exclaim. It's a girl? Were they talking about me? Was I kidnapped? What was happening to me. Anxiety swirled and came at me, like a whirlwind, and my wailing only increased. I was crying and wailing, like a child.
I felt a blanket around me and was soon engulfed in its warmth, and a lingering smell of aftershave.
"She must be hungry, Cahwel, you should feed our daughter." A male voice sounded from above me. I swayed from side to side, as a kiss landed on my forehead. "Your brother will be so excited to see you, my little mouse," he said flicking my nose.
"Here, you feed her, I'll go check on our son. I'll be right back, love." Said the man, as I was transferred to another.
"Oh, darling, I can't believe you're finally with us." said the woman holding me, sniffling. "I love you more than you could ever know darling. You'll see, one day I'll tell you and you'll understand, you'll grow up to be such a fine woman, my baby."
Baby? What it in the world was happening here? I wasn't a baby! I'm a grown person! Wasn't I? My breathing hitched and I hiccuped a cry, again.
"Shhh, shh darling. Don't worry, I've got you." I heard. I felt a soothing liquid trickle into my mouth, I could hardly recognise the taste and falling prey to my insatiety, I greedily gulped.
Tired and full, I didn't realise how sleep had captured me again.
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"So what should I call her, dad?" I heard a boy squeak.
What should they call me? But I already had a name! Why would anyone need to give me another?
My name was - my name was -uhrri? Oh merlin! What was my name? Tension balled up inside in me. I couldn't remember anything. It felt as though I'd swallowed a ball of salt and with that thought, I burped out the contents of my stomach.
No, it's not like I didn't remember anything.
I did remember. I remembered each word written in the seven books of J.K Rowling, along with the fact that I had some life before this to remember and didn't.
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I woke up, hungry again, fluttering my eyes open. An unrecognised set of noises left my mouth in an attempt to convey my hunger and excitement. Hazy images aligned together and I saw a boy's face right above mine. A set of soft brown eyes, evidently the largest and the most attractive feature of his face, a tiny round nose that flushed into his cheeks and the highlight- the widest, largest smile.
Instinctively and immediately, wanting to grab his attention and I tried to swat his face, only to realise the length of my hand wasn't enough to reach him, my tiny fingers hardly able to uncoil. It was a baby's hand, which could only mean one thing; that I was a baby. I remembered having come to a similar conclusion before. I would have expected this big moment of realisation to probably lead to irritation or frustration and maybe even hysteria, but my limited understanding, decreased ability to process and baby hormones betrayed me. Even though I understood what it meant, it all felt like a rather funny joke and I only giggled.
Finding it amusing, I again reached for the little boy's face. This time he leaned in and let me attack. I took that as an opportunity to go for another round of punch-boy-in-face and giggled, showering my spit all over his face.
"Mom I think she likes me!" Said the boy, as I saw him tugging on the hair of the lady holding him up next to my crib.
"Haha, yes, darling, of course she does. All this spit on your face confirms it, doesn't it?" She said, taking out a long stick from her pockets and swirling it over the boys face to clean it. "Aren't you the best brother she could have? "
"I'll wait for her to tell me that! Can I take her outside to play?" Said the little boy. He looked around the age of three. "I'll show her my new snitch and my collection of chocolate frog cards!"
"Ernaline is all but a week old, dear, she doesn't even know what a snitch is." She said, taking the boy outside the room and leaving me to stare at the stars which floated above my bed.
The lady couldn't be more wrong. I imagined that one day I'll be flying through the sky seeking that snitch.
1 year later
I crawled under my cot, leaving behind my mother, who was crawling after me to feed me another bite of apple stew. She called it the last bite, yet again. Well, I didn't remember things from my previous life, but I was very well aware of this trap. I wasn't going to let her outsmart me with this one! My mother sat cross legged in front of me, waiting for me to come. Her skin matched the colour of her khakhi trousers which she had paired with an olive green shirt. Her smile stretched brighter than the solitaires that hung on her ears, as she expectantly held out the spoon towards me.
I laughed, taking my tongue out.
"No, nono." I said.
"Did you just say no Ernaline?" My mother laughed. "And here I thought at least your second set of words would be something around mom!"
I slapped my hand against the wooden floor as I gurgled the last remnants of food in my mouth as though to prove the finality of my decision.
"Fine, no more. Come on out, then, we'll go check on Gurgie."
Gurgie was no other than my brother, and no my parents didn't actually name him that! I did. Gerhardt was mouthful to pronounce, especially for my dim witted 1 year old self. Gurgie was the first word I'd said, everyone initially thought I was babbling, but for me, it was as real as it gets. Gurgie was my favourite person and my mother, often, successfully lured me out using his name. If I had to guess, I'd say she was also somewhat jealous of him being my favourite.
*slurps saliva and giggles*
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I brushed my light brown, curly hair again before I pinned them up on the sides and decided that no matter what, I wasn't going to change the look again. I'd been trying to get them under control for a few minutes now, but I knew from ten years of experience that they were untameable. On some good days I woke up with perfect curls and on other, important days, they were as much of trouble as Fred and George would later prove to be. My mother refused to charm or spell them for me, she insisted that we leave some things to work by hand to make sure we don’t get dependent on magic and forgot to use our limbs. She had a rather unusual theory of addiction to magic, as though it were firewhiskey.
I wore an embroidered lilac princess dress that clung to my plump body. I was satisfied with how I looked, I'd hand picked the cloth myself and my mother had stitched it perfectly to my size. But with my hair, the same satisfaction would never come. I inspected myself in the mirror one last time before I would step out of my room to cut my birthday cake.
"Ernie, come on! Everyone's waiting for you,” Gurgie called out as he stepped inside my room.
"I was just coming out," I said, letting him cover my eyes and lead me outside. It wasn’t a surprise or anything, just that Gurgie didn’t leave any attempt for trying to make me feel special.
There was a small crowd gathered, my parents, my brother. Our family friends, the Bones, were here with both their children, Edgar and as well as baby Amelia, to celebrate my birthday.
Edgar was my age and was a constant presence at our home. We weren't best of friends or anything of the sort, but he was still family. Both Mr. And Mrs. Bones, whom I fondly referred to as aunty and uncle Bones, were my father's colleagues at St. Mungo's Hospital and more importantly 'his gang' since Hogwarts. They had decided their career on their first Hogwarts Express ride whilst attempting to fix my father's broken foot when it came between the compartment door. Oh, thinking about that story always leaves me with a smile. However, my mother was a few years younger, and surprisingly, never knew my father before her parents had arranged her marriage to him.
I walked through the small corridor that led to our kitchen and found them gathered around our 6 seater wooden dining table, with a large purple cake nestled towards a corner for me. Yorkshire puddings, scones, Victoria sponge and Summer Sherry Trifle were neatly arranged on the rest of the table. Muggles would call it a diabetic nightmare, but for the metabolism of us wizards it was hardly so. They had removed all chairs to make room to stand and kept a small stool in front of the cake to compensate for my height. They had out done themselves this year, with all my favourite food and an added element of grape juice in wine glasses. They had kept in mind how I always insisted on taking one glass for myself. I smiled at my family as I shuffled faster towards my treats.
"This is so fabulous. Aunty Liela, did you bake my cake?" I said, climbing the stool.
"Of course she did, little mouse and one of her special blueberry one too. Now let's get to it shall we, because my mouth is already watering!" Father said, curling his arm around my shoulder.
We cut the cake, and laughed away at the silly things my father and uncle Hariel said. Edgar got me a hoard of candy, which he and Gurgie happily helped themselves to. Uncle and aunt got me a toy wand that could fold my clothes, turn my shoes into roller skates and they claimed it could also change the colours of my clothes.
Once the Bones left, Gurgie left no time pulling me into the fort he had built in our room. The sheets hovered over the make-do wall that was created with chairs, a cupboard, a few lamps, a pile of books and a sample of everything that matched the height requirement of the fort. He’d taken dad’s help to expand the fort with an extension charm and set up a quidditch pitch. We didn’t have any bludgers or quaffles, so our game was always about catching the snitch. Mom refereed the game, and like every other time, I had lost the snitch to my brother. It was funny how I’d always imagined being the best seeker there is, but when we played the game, even if it wasn’t the real deal, I was quite horrible at it. The bubble of my fantasies, burst every so often.
The day came to an end and I was being tucked into bed on my twin bed next to my brother’s.
My mother called after my father from the door, "Abster Brown, will you get the box already!"
I giggled, oh I was waiting for this. Finally it was time for their gift.
"Do you know what it is, Gurgie?" I whispered.
My father entered the room with a wooden box. It had 3 drawer-like compartments. He carefully seated next to my bedside lamp.
"You're a big girl now Ernie, and a wise one too. Hardly a year before you leave for Hogwarts and be on your own and in charge of yourself. Isn't it?" My father said, smiling like he always did, with bright and glistening eyes. He looked at my mother, urging her to continue.
"So we thought, instead of adding to the pile of toys and things you two have already have, we'd give your first adult gift. So this box here, is actually a piggy bank."
"A piggy bank? But mom I already own one!" I said, looking confused.
"You do, and both your father and I have seen, you're very responsible with it. You put every last silver and sickle you get on Christmas or otherwise and never have I ever seen you use a single sickle out of it. Merlin only knows what you're saving for! Now, this is a very special sort of a piggy bank. This compartment on the bottom is for saving, the one in the middle for giving and the one on the top is for spending."
My mother waited for me to reply as I started to inspect the tiny box. Pulling the drawer open I found a single Galleon in each and realised the space inside was much, much larger than how small it looked from outside.
"Mom, but can't I just do the same with the one I have!" I said, sounding disappointed with
This meant I could save and decide what to spend on, I could save and decide who to help and how. I could even just save to save as I always did. My parents usually bought things for me, the paints, clothes, books and toys. They worked hard and saved the money, Gurgie and I, we both knew that, but they never let us feel it. We weren't poor or anything, but everything in our lives was valued and cared for. I remember mom teaching me the importance of money and how we must understand that it's not limitless for anyone, rich or poor. She had told us how it took responsible decisions and hard work even for a rich person to remain rich.
They were giving me a chance to be responsible.
I smiled and gave them a small hug.
"I love it. But 3 Galleons is a lot! I could buy 10 owls from that much! What if someone steals them? And what about Piggy the piggy bank?" I asked.
"Darling, that's your birthday gift, really, you get to choose. And it's charmed so only you can open it, no one else, not even me. For your piggy bank, you can sort that into the compartment of your liking in the box and do as you please with it. Now come on, it's late. Sleep, both of you." Father said.
Both our parents kissed us goodnight as I turned towards my left to face Gurgie. I looked at him as he stared at our starry ceiling. Was he wondering the same thing as I was? It was 27th May 1969, my 10th birthday. 1969 was also the year when my brother turned 11, and in a month's time he would get his letter. In a month's time he would make friends, best friends who wouldn't be me and I would be left here alone. The moment dad mentioned Hogwarts, that’s the first thing that went on in my mind. He was thinking about that too, wasn't he?
"It'll alright you know, you have to go and study. We always knew you'd be going, Gurg. And I’ll be there in two years. Don't you worry about me." I told him.
He looked at me, startled, before he shook his head into a smile. "Ernie, you're the best sister ever, I thought you'd never be okay with me leaving."
I don’t think I was okay with him leaving, but there wasn’t any option. He inspected my sad smile and waited a moment before he added, "Also, check your cupboard in the morning. I got you a hair spray from the muggle shops, you're always fussing about your hair. It’s not magic, so mom can’t say anything either. Happy birthday."
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