Prologue
It was August day, just like all the ones before it, when Minerva McGonagall sat down in her headmistress chair to write a letter. There was much work to be done before students arrived on the first of September for the start of a new term. After centuries of teaching young witches and wizards magic, Hogwart's School of Wichcraft and Wizardry usually ran like a well oiled machine, (excluding all the ruckus Harry and his friends always managed to stir up at the end of every year of course) but You-Know-Who had really thrown a wrench into their plans. After he took over the school and placed his Death Eaters in charge, what attending students had been taught really couldn't have been called an education. EVERYONE would have to go back and repeat the year, which you can imagine caused a big to-do. It also created a lot of extra work for Professor McGonagall, who had finally taken her rightful place as Dumbledore's successor.
The Headmistress dipped her quill in an inkpot and paused with it suspended over the parchment, as if thinking of how best to phrase what she wanted to say. Suddenly a ringing, much like that of a Muggle telephone, reverberated around her office, startling the poor overworked Professor so much that she dropped her quill.
She recognized the sound from when Dumbledore had still been headmaster. He had charmed an ordinary calendar to ring to remind him of important dates and appointments. Sure enough, when she looked over at the wall wear said calendar was still hanging, the square for that particular August day was pulsing a light blue color. McGonagall immediately pushed her chair back and strode closer, curious about what could be so important as to remain on Dumbledore's agenda, even after his untimely demise. She withdrew her wand from her pocket and lightly touched the tip of it to the pulsating square, like she had seen the great man do many times.
"Angelina VillaFuerte's seventeenth birthday." A professional sounding female voice intoned. The square quit glowing and the calendar returned to normal, but Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Seventeenth birthday?" she muttered to herself. "VillaFuerte…I don't know the name. Why would Dumbledore concern himself with someone's birthday anyways?" she continued on in her thoughts. "Though turning seventeen is an important occasion in a wizard's life, it's not like Dumbledore sent a birthday note to all Hogwarts students. Actually, I'm quite certain that there isn't a VillaFuerte at this school at all."
After following her thoughts around in circles for a few more minutes, her curiosity got the better of her. She crossed the room to Dumbledore's portrait and asked him why he had a random person's birthday marked on his calendar, hoping that against all odds he would give her a real answer and refrain from speaking in riddles as he was known to do.
"Ah…I had almost forgotten about her. Seventeen, a full wizard." Albus gazed off into the distance for a moment, not noticing Professor McGonagall growing increasingly impatient for more information. Before she could even ask, Dumbledore snapped back to the present.
"She will need to be enrolled here, and will require some special…attention." Blue eyes, piercing even as a portrait, searched McGonagall's. "Minerva, I'm afraid that I haven't shared everything I knew about Voldemort." Albus paused, as though waiting to be reprimanded.
Professor McGonagall, who had been hanging onto his every word and looking very serious moments before now relaxed and threw up her hands.
"Oh, him!" she snorted. "What's there to worry about him? Harry's defeated him and he's gone, for good this time. The way you were talking, I thought you were going to inform me of some impossible new threat to the wizarding world and send me on a secret mission." McGonagall was so relieved, a rare smile even managed to work it way onto her face.
All traces of that smile were wiped out when Dumbledore replied with an undeniable twinkle in his eye, "Why my dear Minerva, not you. Draco Malfoy."