All Our Yesterdays, Chapter One
The witch behind the counter was rummaging around in her filing cabinet to find blank certificates as Eileen stood on the customer side, shifting back and forth from foot to foot. She was aware of how odd she must have looked; a sixteen year-old-girl in Muggle clothes standing awkwardly alone in among the bright and pristine cloaks of bustling witches and wizards working in the Ministry of Magic. Nevertheless, those clothes served a purpose; she needed to be in disguise, and though she might stand out at the Ministry dressed as a Muggle, she would not be recognized. She had even cut off most of her dark hair; now it was as short as a boy’s hair.
“Now, dear, what did you say your given name was?” the witch asked, appearing again and holding the file that would become Eileen’s new identity certificate. “The name you wanted to change?”
Eileen looked at the Ministry witch, who was gray-haired and dressed in fuchsia robes, thinking to herself that this witch looked remarkably youthful for someone with gray hair. “Eileen Lilly Riddle,” she whispered.
The witch nodded and wrote the name down on a separate sheet of parchment with her quill. She then moved the blank certificate in front of her. “And what is the new name you decided on?”
Eileen bit her lip. She had thought of a name before entering the Ministry. She had gone through all the people in her life she had loved, and those she had lost, and everyone and everywhere that had ever been dear to her. Unfortunately, most of those names would not do for inconspicuousness. She couldn’t use the name of her school, or her father, or any of her professors. Finally, she decided what she would do for a name, a name derived from the stars and from her dearest friend, and that was the name she told the Ministry witch.
“Astoria Eileen Greengrass,” Eileen said, thinking of Daphne.
The witch scribbled on the certificate and shuffled sheets of parchment around. “Have you already registered for this upcoming term at Ilvermorny?” she asked, peering at Eileen over her large purple spectacles. Her eyes were kind, though scrutinizing.
“Yes ma’am,” Eileen nodded quickly. “It should be in my file. I also arranged for my host family, and bought all my books in advance. I just need to drop them off, along with the rest of my luggage and my new identification, at whichever place I’m supposed to leave them.”
“Ah,” was all the witch said, as if she had suddenly had an epiphany. She flipped through the parchment sheets in Eileen’s file until she found the one she was looking for. “You’re right, it is right here! Host family and everything,” she straightened her spectacles and looked closer. “But you aren’t scheduled for transport until much later this evening, child.”
“That’s just as well,” the girl replied, pulling nervously at the long sleeve of her shirt. “I have to make one last visit before I leave for Ilvermorny. May I ask for a Ministry escort to and from the place I need to visit?”
The Ministry witch smiled kindly down at Eileen. “Certainly,” she obliged, snapping her fingers. Immediately another, much younger witch appeared, not much older than Eileen herself. This one had light blue hair, very dark skin, and was dressed in turquoise robes. Her expression was chillingly stoic. “This is Cyrena Apophylline, a Ministry intern. She will accompany you on this errand and back again. And,” (here she paused to write on a new sheet of parchment) “should you have trouble reaching this section of the Ministry upon your return simply hand this to whoever is preventing your return and tell them you must speak to Allegra Fabron.”
She handed the parchment to Eileen with a flourish, and the young girl could hardly decipher any of the writing on it besides the flamboyant signature reading Allegra Fabron. Cyrena's eyes bored into Eileen coldly, unnerving the younger witch. “Come,” she commanded, and began a brisk march through the Ministry corridor. Eileen faltered for half a second before trotting to reach her escort, thanking Allegra over her shoulder.
Within minutes they arrived in front of the large cast iron gates of Malfoy Manor, which appeared as a skeleton of the grand estate it had been. Eileen recalled a time when this place was alive with happiness, and herself at the center of it all, for as long as she could remember... until recent events, and her blood, her very existence, ruined everything and took the joy of her loved ones as well as her own.
The windows were dirty, the hedge was untrimmed, and weeds had taken over the front garden. In a matter of just two years of minimal care, the Malfoy home had nearly fallen apart. Eileen couldn’t bear to think what would happen to this memory palace if she did not take action.
“You are his daughter, aren’t you?” Cyrena’s voice pulled Eileen from her musing. The Ministry intern did not look at the witch she spoke to, instead keeping her eyes trained on the mansion before them. “He Who Must Not Be Named?” Something about the question sounded much more like a declaration, and Eileen could see the muscles working in Cyrena’s jaw.
Eileen drew a long breath before calming her rage enough to answer Cyrena’s question. “My only connection to that monster is the blood in my veins. My true family and I risked everything in betraying that devil, acting on both sides to ensure his demise. I will not have the names of heroes sullied, nor will I be associated in any way with that deplorable hell-beast that aided in spawning me.”
Cyrena said nothing. Eileen did not look, but she was sure the Ministry intern was pursing her lips together swelling her words. Her nerve renewed by her anger, Eileen added “Do not follow me into the house. I have something to do alone.” The moment she finished her sentence, she gently pushed open the gate and glided down the stone path to Malfoy Manor.
The moment Eileen entered the parlor she saw Narcissa Malfoy, standing still as a statue and staring at the large family portrait that hung on the wall above the fireplace. She must have heard Eileen’s footsteps, because no sooner had the younger witch closed the parlor door behind her than Narcissa turned and broke into a heartbroken smile.
“Oh, my darling girl!” Mrs. Malfoy exclaimed as she swept across the room to Eileen and engulfed her in a hug. “I wondered where you went! Draco will be home soon...”
“It’s good that he isn’t here at the moment,” Eileen said, breaking the embrace. “I need to talk to you before he gets back.”
Narcissa’s expression fell from joyful to frightened in record time. “What on earth is the matter, dear girl?” she asked in low, concerned gasps, taking both of Eileen’s hands and leading her to one of the four couches.
Eileen took deep breath. She did not know where to start; there was too much to say all at once. How could she tell this woman - the mother of the boy she loved, the woman who had loved her dearly as her own daughter, and the woman whom Eileen had unintentionally caused so much grief simply by being born in the first place - the truth of what she planned to do?
“Narcissa,” the girl whispered. “I’m running away.”
The older woman breathed in, as if preparing to argue, but Eileen suddenly found that her words were tumbling out of her mouth too fast for herself to stop or for Narcissa to get a word in edgewise; “I have it all planned out, I’m going to America and I’ll finish my education at Ilvermorny. It’s the only way to keep you safe, all of my loved ones who haven’t died yet.”
“My girl,” Narcissa interrupted in a pleading voice, “What on earth made you think this is the right choice?”
Without missing a beat, Eileen sobbed, “I killed your husband; I killed Lucius!”
“Rioters killed my husband, dear, rioters and zealots,” Narcissa stroked Eileen’s hair in a motherly fashion. “You did everything you could to keep him safe.”
Eileen’s shoulders sagged, defeated, as she faced Narcissa. “Rioters? Don’t you remember why they were rioting?” before Narcissa could answer, Eileen answered for her. “They were enraged because I still live, because they can’t trust that I won’t turn just as evil as the Dark Lord.”
Eileen could feel Narcissa using great self-restraint as the older woman shook her gently. “Blood and bone do not make heart and soul, my girl! He was less than human, and you are the most determined and golden-hearted girl I have ever known. You are nothing like him, and you will never turn into anyone or anything even close to him.”
“I know that,” the girl clutched Narcissa’s hands. “You know that. All my living loved ones know that. But the general population does not know that, and too many loved ones are no longer living because of me. I have to disappear, Narcissa. Eileen Lilly Riddle must never have existed.”
“And just how do you plan to achieve that?”
Eileen grinned bittersweetly. “Remember how I studied Papa’s work, how he created his own incantations? I managed to make some of my own, and I made a selective memory spell! I can whisper it to someone closest to me, and it will spread like a virus across the community so anyone who has ever known me will forget me. It’s that potent. It only takes a few hours, too, which gives me enough time to finalize my change of name and get out of the country.”
Narcissa shook her head, puzzled. “I don’t understand. Which part of that is selective?”
“You,” Eileen answered. “I want you to remember me. If I ever return home, I want somewhere to come.” she took a small tin of a homemade salve out of her pocket and began rubbing the clear ooze on the temples and forehead of a tearful Narcissa. “I’m sorry that this means you will have to live with the pain I caused you...”
Narcissa shook Eileen again. “You never caused me pain, dear,” she insisted. “You only ever brought me joy! That applies to Lucius too... and, I might add, for my son. You two share an uncanny bond, my darling girl. This spell might not work on him.”
Eileen shook her head sadly. “It will. I know it will. I designed it to completely recreate all memories.”
“And your cousin? His friends?” Narcissa looked pleadingly at Eileen.
“Harry and our friends will be under the spell, just like everyone else,” she said coldly. The time of casting the spell was drawing close, and she knew that if she thought too hard on all the people she would miss, she would collapse and weep.
Knowing she was beaten, Narcissa gazed tearfully at Eileen, pulling her close by her wrists. “I love you, my darling little girl,” she whispered, summoning all her strength and hoping it would sustain her for the coming years, however many of them that might be.
A door opened and closed near the front of the house, and for a moment Eileen was expecting Cyrena to come marching into the parlor. The footsteps that walked into the room, however, belonged to Draco Malfoy. Eileen found that now, at the moment when she must call upon all her courage, she could barely breathe.
“Mother, do you know who-” Draco called out to Narcissa, presumably about to ask what the Ministry intern was doing stationed at his doorstep, when he looked up and noticed Eileen. Just like his mother, he rushed to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. Eileen squeezed her eyes shut, doing everything in her power not to cry. In a choked and shaky voice, she whispered in his ear; “Tuebor.”
There it was. The spell she had created herself, just like her father had once done. This was the spell that would erase her from memory, and as a result, save lives.
Draco stood in a dazed stupor as the spell took effect. Eileen knew she needed to get out of the manor before he adjusted and began asking questions. With a last farewell to a distinctly heartbroken Narcissa, she ran out of the house with tears streaming down her face.
Cyrena was still standing rooted on the spot by the gate. She obviously noticed Eileen’s red and wet face, and though she refused to say anything, her expression softened as she prepared to return the two of them to the Ministry. In an effort to control her sobs, Eileen took four deep breaths, each one for four seconds. By the time she would be on her way to Ilvermorny, the spell would have permeated through everyone who had ever even heard her name, eliminating her from their minds and hearts. That was the way it should always have been.
