Disclaimer:Harry Potter is the property of Ms. Rowling. I don't own nothin'.

Albus Dumbledore sighed in resignation. What was the wizardry world coming to? When he first received his letter from the Magic committee, he hardly believed what he had read. And it was because of this letter that he now found himself on a train speeding for the cathedral city of Durham. He pulled out the letter to read its disturbing contents once again. He read:

'Sir Albus Dumbledore.

We are here to inform you that three days ago we came upon a most unsettling occurrence, which is as such that, requires your immediate attention. In the forest of Muuid, we found an unknown society of Deatheaters. We did our best to vanquish them, but most of them managed to escape. Investigating their lair we found a terrible dungeon beneath their makeshift fort. Inside were the bodies of two children, who appeared to have died in a manner most horrible. We took them and discovered that they were indeed the two sons of the deceased wizards Martha and Willoby Tannther. You remember when the tragic death of these two wizards greatly saddened everyone, including the Council? Willoby was a close friend and associate of many people, and his passing was indeed a sad affair. His children were sent to a wizard adoption center a year ago. We trusted the agency, and did not inquire further. We realize now what a lethal mistake we made. With heavy hearts, knowing that our negligence had inadvertently sent these two children to their untimely demise, we further searched the corridors and rooms of the dungeons. Inside many of these were horrors beyond comprehension. We did not, however find any more bodies. In the last chamber of the last corridor we found a cell guarded my quite a few powerful hexes. When we managed to get in, we found a young girl in the center of the room. She immediately tried to defend herself with magic, and then tried to attack us with several powerful spells. We were surprised that she not only knew them, but that she had sufficient power to pull them off. She was very weak, and we overpowered her soon. Once she was sure that we were there to help her and not harm her, she gratefully went with us. After some prodding, we managed to get some of her story our of her, but she is still very unwilling to trust anyone. She had been through much, and I think it is best if she starts this coming school year right away, so she can get back to her normal life. In spite of all she had been through, she is very strong, mentally, and physically. She is also smart enough to start school as a fourth-year. There is one complication, however. She is an orphan, and has no other living relatives, except for a close friend of the family's that needs to be contacted. Please respond ASAP.

Sincerely,

The Board of Magic.'

Dumbledore passed a hand over his eyes. This business was obviously a lot bigger than the Board was pretending. Couldn't those fools do anything by themselves? Dumbledore sat back in his seat and grumbled quietly to himself. At least she was a girl. Boys were so hard to deal with these days…

-----

Mandara sat very still. Older wizards from the Board of Magic walked impatiently around her waiting for Dumbledore. She silently observed them. The one named Coleus was a very boisterous sort. He had, in fact, carried her out of that terrible place over his shoulder when she at first wouldn't agree to go. She twisted her fingers as horrible memories of that place filled her mind. She shook her head angrily. There would be time for crying later. She would not show weakness in front of them. She would not show it front of anybody. She was strong. Just like her mother taught her to be. Her…Mother. She squeezed her eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to fall like they always did when she thought of her mother. Her father had died when she was only three, and she barely remembered him. But her mother had raised her since then, privately tutoring her in Magic and manners. She remembered every spell, every hex, and every incantation her mother had lovingly taught her. She remembered the recipe for every potion, and she memorized by heart the rules for Defensive and Offensive magic. Her mother had begun her teaching when she was five. And she was ahead of most witches her age. She was only thirteen, but she was starting her education at Hogwarts at fourth-year. Her mother had often told her stories of going there. And Mandara couldn't wait for her turn. But then, he mother died. It was so sudden, and Mandara could remember sitting by her bed for days without eating or drinking. Begging that she would live. Doctors could do nothing, and after five agonizing days, the witch Zenevieva Rachel Mortacrin died in her daughter's arms. Mandara remembered the last words her mother said six years ago so clearly:

"Mom, please! Please don't leave me!"

"Mannie, I will never truly leave you. Do not fear, for I will always watch out for you. I will always protect you. Even from the grave."

"NO! You will not die! I won't let you!"

"You were always so stubborn. But, sweetheart, no one has power over death…or life."

"I don't care! I can't live of you're not with me!"

"Yes you can. You will be strong for me won't you? Promise me you'll be good, and that you will mind your manners. Promise me that you will be strong, just like I taught you. Promise me that you will not forget who you are. And whose daughter you are."

"-sniff- I will never forget mother! I promise you! I will be good, and strong and smart just like you are."

"Good girl. You have such passion. Just like your father. Never forget that you have power beyond imagination. You just need to find it."

"I won't mom."

"And Mandara, dearest?"

"Yes, mom?"

"Don't forget to love…"

"I will not!"

"I…I l-love you…ah!"

"Mom? Mom! NOOOO! MOTHER, PLEASE! COME BACK TO ME! NOOO"

Mandara fiercely gripped her hands together. She would never forget. Her mother would live on in her, and in her children. Gently fingering the medallion given to her by her mother, and to her mother by her father, she forced herself to clear her mind to meet the headmaster of Hogwarts. He would doubtless be coming soon, and what kind of impression would he get from a girl who cried at the slightest provocation?

-----

Dumbledore stepped off the train and walked briskly to the small office unseen by Muggles, and populated by members of the Board of Magic. He entered and was briefly greeted by a wizard named Aden, who took him into a small room where the girl was waiting for him to take her to Hogwarts. When he entered the room, the sight that greeted him stopped his heart. A small girl sat alone in a secluded corner by herself. She had dark brown hair that fell around her shoulders, and over her eyes and face. She was clothed in a simple dark blue skirt with a black trench coat. In her hand she clutched an oval medallion with a raised inscription of some sort on it. Her face was taught, and she seemed to be deep in thought. Dumbledore approached her, and gently put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped involuntarily, looked up. Dumbledore was startled by how much pain and sorrow he saw in her eyes. As he looked at them, he could tell that she was ready to cry, but was bravely holding back the tears. He smiled down at her in an attempt to help her relax, but if it did, she gave no sign of it; her face remained as blank as a sheet of paper. She held out her hand politely.

"My n-name is Mandara Mortacrin. You must be Professor Dumbledore."

Her voice shook slightly as she struggled to remain calm. Dumbledore warmly clasped her hand in both of his. It was so cold! He squeezed it softly and smiled at her.

"Well, I'm glad to meet you, my dear. I knew your Father when we were both very young. It's an honor to finally meet his daughter."

Her lower lip trembled the tiniest bit before her face went blank again.

"The honor is mine, Sir. My…my mother spoke quite highly of you."

Dumbledore sensed that she was tired and greatly needed her rest.

"Mmm. I think we should get you into the train, and on the way to Hogwarts. No doubt you're very tired, and wish to be on your way at once."

She nodded, and pulling her wand from a fold in her jacket, flicked it lightly at her suitcases, and after they shrunk, deposited them into her pocket. Dumbledore had the good sense not to show his amazement that she had mastered a spell like that at such a young age, and offering her his arm, proceeded to lead her out to the awaiting train. They boarded, and Dumbledore was handed her papers and other items of importance, and they set off for Hogwarts. Dumbledore studied the girl as they sat opposite each other in the compartment. She was staring out the window at the rapidly passing countryside and paid little attention to anything else. She was of slender form with narrow shoulders and waist. Her hands were delicate, with long, thin fingers that currently grasped the necklace. Her face was very beautiful, but sad. She had small, high cheek bones which tapered into a small, slightly pointed chin. Her eyes were huge and sad, and were the strangest color of blue. She had thick, dark lashes that framed her eyes, and undoubtedly harbored tears. He ventured to start a conversation.

"Miss Mortacrin, I want you to know that you can talk to me any time you want. I really want you to feel comfortable. Especially after all you've been through."

She turned toward him with that same emotionless stare.

"Thank you very much Sir, but you see, I've forgotten a lot of what happened in the Forest of Muuid."

"But, how?"

"I used a partial memory erase spell on myself after telling the Board what had happened. Franz, Joseph, and I were tortured and humiliated. There was much I never want to remember again."

At this she turned and looked back out the window. Dumbledore's heart ached deeply for her. But he also realized that until she opened up willingly. There was really nothing he, nor anyone else could do. Merlin! What had happened to her?

-----

She had just lied to a teacher. Mandara berated herself at how wrong that was. Here was a man who was only trying to help, and she had blatantly lied to his face. She had put no such charm on herself. She remembered each and every thing that had happened to her and the two Tannther boys. She closed her eyes in sadness at the memory of little Franz. He had only been eight years old, but he was so brave. His brother Joseph had been fifteen. Two years older than herself, and mature beyond his years. He had been strong for all of them, when they endured the awful pain together. Mandara shuddered at the memory of all the things that had happened. She didn't know what they were trying to do, but they had been attempting to get something from them. Joseph had once said he heard them talking about their 'aura' but whether or not that had anything to do with them; it had been all they ever found out. She twisted the silver chain in her hands and fingered the pretty pendant that adorned it. The trees and fields were rushing past them in a green and brown blur of motion. This, coupled with the droning hum of the train, and the rocking bumping of the tracks lulled her into a deep and dreamless sleep.

She awoke to find herself in a neat little room with a roaring fire in one side of it. Her belongings were set beside her next to the bed on the floor. She lifted herself up with some difficulty, and explored her new surroundings. It was a snug little room with light brown draperies across the window. Mandara pulled them aside and looked out to see a half-moon and stars twinkling in the sky. She quietly opened her door and peeked out. There looked like there was another fire in a room at the end of the hall, and she could hear voices talking quietly. She walked softly towards the door, and gently tapped. The voices stopped, and she could hear Dumbledore's cheery voice,

"Miss Mortacrin? Come in, come in!"

She entered the room to find a couple sitting there with another boy who looked much older than herself. The woman was slightly buxom, with dark brown hair and a kind face. The man by stark comparison was tall and thin with a mass of red hair topping his head. Their son, (judging by his similarity to the man) also had bright red hair and a small smile on his face in greeting. Dumbledore gestured to an easy chair near the fire, and Mandara gratefully took it. He then motioned toward the three that were sitting with him.

"Miss Mortacrin, I would like you to meet some good friends of mine. You will be doing your shopping for Hogwarts with them, and because one of them is in your grade, he might be able to show you around." He indicated the man and woman. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They are the parents of seven children, some of whom go to Hogwarts. Their third eldest is with them, and his name is Percy."

Mandara gaped when he said seven children, but recovered herself enough to offer a weak smile. Dumbledore waved his hand over to Mandara,

"Arthur, Molly, I'd like you to meet Mandara Mortacrin, daughter of the late wizards Geoff and Zenevieva Mortacrin."

Mandara nodded and smiled slightly,

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and you, Percy."

Mrs. Weasley grinned.

"Oh, good grief, hon, there's no need to be so polite! You'll be living with us for a few days, so as far as I'm concerned, your family."

Mannie felt her eyes prick for a moment at that word, but squeezed her fingers together and just nodded. Percy reached out and took her hand in his.

"I'm glad to meet you too. We only have one sister, so it will be sort of fun for her to have someone to hang out with."

"Oh, only one girl, among seven?"

This time Mr. Weasley spoke,

"Oh yes, she's been the first girl born in several generations."

Mannie stared. Mrs. Weasley stood,

"We should get your things, and head off to the Burrow now, we'll be getting an early start tomorrow morning to get everybody's school supplies."

"Yes, ma'am."

Mannie stood and walked to her room. She shrinked her luggage again, and after sliding them into her pocket, walked out again. Mr. Weasley and Percy were already outside, and only Mrs. Weasley remained to lead her out. Mandara turned to Dumbledore.

"Thank you for coming to get me Sir. I realize that this may have inconvenienced you, especially since you are undoubtedly preparing for the approaching school year-"

Dumbledore interrupted her mid-sentence,

"My dear, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance. It was no trouble at all." He clasped her hand warmly. "I look forward to seeing you again at Hogwarts."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

Mannie smiled briefly, and then followed Mrs. Weasley out the door. Mr. Weasley and Percy were standing together a little away from the house.

"We're going to apparate to the Burrow."

Mr. Weasley took out his wand, and saying a quick spell, dark blue clouds engulfed them. Mannie kept close to Percy to avoid getting swept somewhere unpleasant in the journey, and soon enough all four arrived safely at a tall, interesting-looking house. It was tall, with multiple window peaking out from under wide, shingled eaves. The house had a bit of a run-down appearance, but that only added to its comely charm and welcoming feel. Mannie held back slightly and watched as boys and one girl poured out of the house. Two boys ran out first. They looked identical, and Mandara could tell by their goofy grins that they must be twins. Another, older boy, who looked slightly more mature than Percy also ambled out. He grinned at her and offered his hand. Mannie put her hand in his, only to be pulled closer into a warm embrace.

"Hi! I'm Charlie."

Mannie couldn't talk from lack of air as she was squished up against the chest of this huge guy. Mrs. Weasley tugged her away from him.

"Don't frighten her, for heaven's sake! She just got here, and can't you see the poor thing could hardly breathe?"

Mannie opened her mouth to protest about being called a 'poor thing' but before she could the twin boys walked up to her and grinned. The one on the right slung his arm around her shoulders, and the other one grabbed her hand in both of his and pumped it vigorously. The one who had his arm around your shoulder spoke.

"Hey, my name is Fred, and this is my mate George."

George bowed with a flourish and proceed to kiss her hand. He grinned up at her and spoke.

"Hi. I'm Fred, and the impolite one next to you is my brother George."

"But, wait, you said that you were…hang on,"

They both erupted into laughter, and Charlie brushed them off her like one would brush flies off.

"Ignore them, the one on the right is George, and the one on the right is Fred."

The one supposedly called Fred grinned.

"Are ya sure of that Charlie?"

Charlie rolled his eyes. The one who must've been George smiled at you.

"So what's your name?"

"Oh, my name is Mandara."

"Man-whata?"

"Mandara."

"Man-huh?"

"Man-DARA"

Fred clucked you under the chin.

"He's only joking kid, do you have a nickname that easier to say?"

"Um, my…mom used to call me Mannie."

"Is it alright if we call you that?"

"Sure."

At that moment another red-headed boy came out with another one who could not be part of the family. He had unruly black hair that hung in his eyes and around his ears. When they got closer, Mannie could see brilliant green eyes looking out at her from behind round glasses. The red-head smiled at her,

"Hi, I'm Ron," he glanced about at everyone else. "Looks as if you've already met most of them."

"Most? There's more?"

"Oh yeah. Bill's not around right now, and Ginny is in the house."

Fred, or George came around her other side and put his arm around her shoulders again.

"Heya Ron. This is Mannie. She's the girl mum said she'd be bringin' home with her."

"George, cut it out. You're scaring her."

George down at her.

"Am I scaring you?"

"Uh, no?"

George pulled her against his side and shook her shoulder a bit.

"See? Mannie an' me are pals already."

Mannie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his antics, and instead settled for looking at the strange dark haired boy. He was very quiet and looked at her intently. She met his eyes unflinchingly and let a tiny smile touch her lips for a moment. The boy smiled at her, and held out his hand. Mannie took it, and held it for a moment. She got tingly sensations running up and down her arm from the magic in his veins. The boy had apparently gotten it too, because he pulled his hand from hers a little quickly. He looked at her oddly and then introduced himself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mannie, I'm Harry."

"Hi Harry. It's nice to meet you."

Mrs. Weasley bundled all of you inside.

"Its time to eat! Talk later, you all must be starving, George, put that back I don't want it getting broken! Ginny dear, come down for dinner! Fred! Get off Percy, will you!"

Mannie was shuffled along with everyone else and wondered how in the world Mrs. Weasley put up with all this commotion on a day-to-day basis. She then wondered how SHE was going to put up with all this commotion on a day-to-day basis. Dinner was a tremendous affair with everyone talking, eating and laughing all at once. Mannie sat between Fred and George, and by the time they were halfway through with dinner, they had managed to get a few smiles and grins out of her. Harry looked at her from across the table. He grinned.

"I pity you, Mannie."

Fred leaned across the table,

"Ah, stuff a sock in it Potter. Mannie can't get enough of us, right Mannie?"

Mannie wasn't listening. She was busy contemplating the fact that she had just met Harry Potter. The only living person who had been attacked by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She shuddered. It had been his people who had tortured her and the Tannther boys. She kept her face blank, but didn't feel quite hungry any more. She rose and turned to Mrs. Weasley,

"May I be excused?"

Mrs. Weasley looked faintly worried.

"Are you quite alright dear?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just need…some air."

"Yes, you can leave; just don't go past the driveway outside."

"I won't. Thank you for the delicious meal, Mrs. Weasley."

Mannie walked outside and sat down on the porch. She needed a good cry, but she stubbornly held the tears in. She hadn't cried in nearly a year. She used to wail and sob when the Deatheaters inflicted pain on her, but after a while she stopped giving them that satisfaction, and only grunted and occasionally screamed from the torture. She put her head in her hands and wished she could just go somewhere alone. She was concentrating so hard on not crying that she didn't here the quiet footsteps behind her until she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She jumped up and stared up at the face of…