Dumbledore's Daughter
She smiled at him as he held up the newborn baby for all to see. His heart filled with pride as he gazed into his daughter's face, so similar to his. His smile turned to a frown as her delicate fingers transformed into sharp, horrendous claws. Her rosy skin broke away to reveal prickly brown feathers.
"D-a-d-d-y," her innocent voice whispered as she turned her face towards his. He gasped and tried hard not to drop her as her once angelic face fell apart to give way to a large beak, mottled skin and large blue eyes.
She struggled to wrench herself free from his arms but he held on, wanting to bring her back. Yet it was useless. She was gone and she wouldn't come back.
"Arianna," he sobbed. "Come back…"
*
Albus Dumbledore woke up, drenched in sweat. His hair stuck damply to his face. He pushed it back and got out of bed, pulling on his dressing gown. He walked along to his desk, ruffling the feathers of his Phoenix, Fawkes along the way. Sitting down, he took out his wand and placed it gently against his temple. Murmuring softly, what looked like one of his silver strands of hair flowed out of head. He leant over the Pensieve hidden in his cupboard and added the strand to the swirling mixture in the bowl. He sat down glumly next to the bowl and stared thoughtfully at the swirls of blue. All of a sudden, the image changed to people, a woman and a child and he stared at it. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose touched the mixture and he let himself go in, travel down through to his memories of thirty years before…
*
…"Have a fun time you two," Albus Dumledore shouted out at the steadily rising hippogriff and waved until it was a nothing but a tiny speck in the distance. He was very glad that his wife, Jade and daughter, Arianna, went off to see Jade mother. His only regret was that he couldn't come with them, but he was needn't hear. Wriggling out of a big conference created an equally big hassle.
The next day as Dumbledore was reading the "Daily Prophet" he nearly dropped his marmalade toast shock. Nearly covering the whole page was an article devoted to an accident near the north of England. As he diverted his attention to the accompanying photograph he noticed that the hippogriff looked slightly familiar. He read on to find with utter terror the names Jade and Arianna. They were dead.
*
Dumbledore leant back quickly, closing the cupboard door behind him. He breathed hard. The memory of their death was still too traumatic for him to handle. When he learnt that they had fallen of the majestic hippogriff, the one Dumbledore had placed his trust in, he thought that his world had come to an end. The following weeks of trauma and unwanted but well-meant sympathy had nearly driven him over the edge. He just wanted to crawl into a little hole and die. It would've been fine if had not been appointed headmaster of Hogwarts the day before. He'd seriously thought about rejecting after the deaths but he realised that Hogwarts was too dear for him to give up. He thrived on the knowledge that Hogwarts was the best wizardry school in England. So he'd taken up the position, full of anticipation and nerves.
And here he was today. An old man, who had done all he could for the school. He worked his heart out and was pleased with what he had. He was pleased with all the pleasure he gave the students. Especially the pleasure he gave Harry Potter. Hearing of the Potters death had affected him immensely as it reminded him of Jade and Arianna's. He wanted to help Harry get through the time, as he knew of all the feelings you felt when someone close to you died. He really though-
At that moment, he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
"Albus, come quickly," he heard Minerva McGonagall's voice say through the thick heavy door. He opened it quickly, anticipating a smile from the face of the Transfiguration teacher. He did not expect, though, the frown on the face of the lady who stood before him.
"Albus, there's a strange lady downstairs waiting for you. Says that it's terribly important. Don't know how it could be so important that she'd wake us up at three o'clock in the morning for it. And she has the most queer accent, I could barely understand her…"
Dumbledore ignored her and hurried down the steps, twisting through passages of all sorts. Finally, he reached the Entrance Hall where he saw the slim figure of a lady with light brown hair and an attractive face. She looked familiar, though he couldn't quite figure out why. She turned to face him and smiled, offering a hand.
"Hello. I'm Arianna Dumbledore."
Dumbledore stood, rooted to the spot. His head was swirling and he thought that he would be sick. The lady in front of him looked at him keenly, as if expecting him to do something. His bewilderment quickly gave way to anger. This was obviously some one's idea of a sick joke, yet he couldn't understand how they would've known about Arianna. As if sensing his emotions, she quickly spoke up.
"I assure you, this is not a joke. I know it seems like a big shock to you, after all these years, but it is the first time I've been able to find exactly where you are. Believe me, it was some job trying to get here, just to-what do you call it? Hogwarts, is it? Well whatever it is called, you sure like to keep it hidden…"
She went and Dumbledore's heart was filled with a strange feeling, as if he thought that this lady might actually be his daughter could be real. She took a step towards him, as if to embrace him in a hug of welcome, but he took a step back. She looked hurt and at that precise moment, he saw Jade in her face; the same crossed eyebrows and delicate lips.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, you died. You're dead. You've been dead for thirty years."
He tried to gain control of his mind, but it was useless. The look on her face was too similar to that of Jade's for the lady not to be Arianna. He knew that he should feel love for his daughter, but all he felt was fear. He was hallucinating, he knew it. It was his imagination. Arianna was dead. She died thirty years ago.
"I think that we should go to talk somewhere private," she spoke softly. Because his mouth was so dry, all he could do was nod mutely. He led her up to his office, trying hard to remember to breathe as she raved on about the beauty of the castle. Finally, they reached the gargoyle statue that had welcomed him for the past thirty years as headmaster at Hogwarts.
"Jelly-bean monsters," he mumbled softly. The gargoyle sprang to life to reveal the doorway into his office. All of a sudden, as he stepped into the room, he felt safe and secure. This was his territory and nothing could faze him whilst he was in it. Walking over, he ruffled the feathers of Fawkes who was at his peak; his gold and red plumage shimmering in the soft candlelight. Sitting at his grand desk, he watched as the lady pulled up a chair and sat down.
"I think that you owe me an explanation for this horrid, cruel joke that you obviously think is-"
"But it is not a joke. Believe me. Just listen to me, please."
Her face was so grief stricken that Dumbledore felt compelled to comply and nodded gently, showing that he wished for her to continue.
"Well, it all started five years ago. I've been living in Australia for the past thirty years and I didn't know much about my past. I was told that my parents were both killed in a freak accident involving accident. I knew nothing about me being a witch at all back then. I grew up, believing that I had no family and lived a normal life with a very caring foster family, the Jones. I attended a school for witches and wizards in a place called Croydon, in Sydney. It was called the Robinson's Foundation for the Edwin School of Arts. I had a marvelous time there and graduated with 58 and a half C.O.W.S."
Dumbledore butted in at this point with a question.
"C.O.W.S?"
"Commonly Ordinary Witch (Wizard) Stars. It is the grading system. C.O.W.S of 45 and above are considered genius. So obviously, I was very proud of myself. But then I began to wonder about my family history. I tried to get contacts through to England but, as I did not know my last name, I was unable to. Then, five years ago, I found out that my last name was Dumbledore. As imagined, that wasn't a very common name. So when I tried to trace my family again, I found that my mother had been killed while riding a Hippogriff. Yet there was nothing about my father. Concerned, I wrote to the Ministry of Magic here and got a letter from Cornelius Fudge. He explained where you were and all that happened- look; I may as well read it out to you.
"Dear Arianna,
In reply to your concerns about the whereabouts of your father, I am very pleased to give you this information on him. His name is Albus Dumbledore and he is currently headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He's believed to be dead for thirty years now, as you and your mother were involved in a freak accident whilst flying on a Hippogriff. They presumed you dead as they never round you or your body. It seems though that you are quite truly alive.
As you father is a great man (I might add here that he has received an Order of Merlin), I will be immensely pleased in bringing you over here to England if you wish to meet him. Please send back a reply as soon as you can and I shall make any arrangements necessary.
Yours,
Cornelius Fudge.
Cornelius Fudge,
Mininster of Magic.
"So, I took Mr.Fudge up on his very kind offer and arranged to come here to meet you. Mr.Fudge did all he could, but I had to wait three weeks to meet you as I have no Apparating license and cannot fly a broom. So, in the meantime, I decided to look up on the freak accident that took my mothers life. Old newspaper in the Wizards Library of Sydney, showed that the Hippogriff, called Squaridonn, narrowly missed a plane. Freaked, it bucked and we, my mother and I, were not able to hold on. Yet, how could my mother die and not me? I tried thinking very hard and I remember a pink flash followed by gold and silver stars. That's all."
"Checking up on things, I found out that my mother had used the Feather Charm, which made me light as a feather. Because of this, I must have floated to Australia, or somewhere far away. My conclusion is that my mother did not have time to save herself. So," Arianna choked at this point, trying to fight back tears as she spoke."So, my mother died for me."
She looked down at the table, in guilt and shame, looking terribly uncomfortable with herself. Dumbledore realised she blamed the death of Jade on herself. This very look on her face dashed all doubts in Dumbledore's mind of this lady not being his daughter.
"Oh, Arianna, please. Do not cry. You are a great gift to me and I cannot believe that I have you back. It is only tears of joy that we should be crying, Arianna, tears of joy…" he murmured softly into her hair as he cuddled the daughter he had thought he lost all those years ago, the daughter who had come back to him.
*
A shrill screeching sound near the window woke Dumbledore sharply the next day at 11 o'clock. He stretched and saw an owl at the window. It was the queerest owl, small and grey, twittering around like an excited clown. He did not want to go over and collect the note it was bearing. He just wanted to reflect on the previous nights encounter and his meeting his daughter after thirty years of thinking him dead. But he had to and he knew it.
He climbed slowly out of the bed and walked over to the window to retrieve the letter tied to its leg. Scanning through it quickly, he gasped in horror. Dropping it, he pulled on his cloak and was out the door in a flash, bumping into Minerva McGonagall on the way.
"Albus, how come you were not at breakfast…" she trailed off as she noticed him hurrying away.
"No time to explain, Minerva. Extremely important business."
He disappeared around the corner. Frowning, Minerva walked into his office. Noticing the yellowed parchment lying on the floor, she picked it up. Intending to place it back onto his desk, already scattered with parchment and quills, she stopped short as she glanced at the hurriedly scrawled handwriting on it. Reading on, she gasped in horror.
Dear Pr. Dumbledore,
We need your help immediately. Mum and Dad went shopping yesterday to Diagon Alley and have not returned. Extremely worried. Then a note came this morning.
"If you want your parents back, give me Harry Potter or else…."
It was signed: Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Please help sir. Extremely anxious.
She smiled at him as he held up the newborn baby for all to see. His heart filled with pride as he gazed into his daughter's face, so similar to his. His smile turned to a frown as her delicate fingers transformed into sharp, horrendous claws. Her rosy skin broke away to reveal prickly brown feathers.
"D-a-d-d-y," her innocent voice whispered as she turned her face towards his. He gasped and tried hard not to drop her as her once angelic face fell apart to give way to a large beak, mottled skin and large blue eyes.
She struggled to wrench herself free from his arms but he held on, wanting to bring her back. Yet it was useless. She was gone and she wouldn't come back.
"Arianna," he sobbed. "Come back…"
*
Albus Dumbledore woke up, drenched in sweat. His hair stuck damply to his face. He pushed it back and got out of bed, pulling on his dressing gown. He walked along to his desk, ruffling the feathers of his Phoenix, Fawkes along the way. Sitting down, he took out his wand and placed it gently against his temple. Murmuring softly, what looked like one of his silver strands of hair flowed out of head. He leant over the Pensieve hidden in his cupboard and added the strand to the swirling mixture in the bowl. He sat down glumly next to the bowl and stared thoughtfully at the swirls of blue. All of a sudden, the image changed to people, a woman and a child and he stared at it. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose touched the mixture and he let himself go in, travel down through to his memories of thirty years before…
*
…"Have a fun time you two," Albus Dumledore shouted out at the steadily rising hippogriff and waved until it was a nothing but a tiny speck in the distance. He was very glad that his wife, Jade and daughter, Arianna, went off to see Jade mother. His only regret was that he couldn't come with them, but he was needn't hear. Wriggling out of a big conference created an equally big hassle.
The next day as Dumbledore was reading the "Daily Prophet" he nearly dropped his marmalade toast shock. Nearly covering the whole page was an article devoted to an accident near the north of England. As he diverted his attention to the accompanying photograph he noticed that the hippogriff looked slightly familiar. He read on to find with utter terror the names Jade and Arianna. They were dead.
*
Dumbledore leant back quickly, closing the cupboard door behind him. He breathed hard. The memory of their death was still too traumatic for him to handle. When he learnt that they had fallen of the majestic hippogriff, the one Dumbledore had placed his trust in, he thought that his world had come to an end. The following weeks of trauma and unwanted but well-meant sympathy had nearly driven him over the edge. He just wanted to crawl into a little hole and die. It would've been fine if had not been appointed headmaster of Hogwarts the day before. He'd seriously thought about rejecting after the deaths but he realised that Hogwarts was too dear for him to give up. He thrived on the knowledge that Hogwarts was the best wizardry school in England. So he'd taken up the position, full of anticipation and nerves.
And here he was today. An old man, who had done all he could for the school. He worked his heart out and was pleased with what he had. He was pleased with all the pleasure he gave the students. Especially the pleasure he gave Harry Potter. Hearing of the Potters death had affected him immensely as it reminded him of Jade and Arianna's. He wanted to help Harry get through the time, as he knew of all the feelings you felt when someone close to you died. He really though-
At that moment, he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
"Albus, come quickly," he heard Minerva McGonagall's voice say through the thick heavy door. He opened it quickly, anticipating a smile from the face of the Transfiguration teacher. He did not expect, though, the frown on the face of the lady who stood before him.
"Albus, there's a strange lady downstairs waiting for you. Says that it's terribly important. Don't know how it could be so important that she'd wake us up at three o'clock in the morning for it. And she has the most queer accent, I could barely understand her…"
Dumbledore ignored her and hurried down the steps, twisting through passages of all sorts. Finally, he reached the Entrance Hall where he saw the slim figure of a lady with light brown hair and an attractive face. She looked familiar, though he couldn't quite figure out why. She turned to face him and smiled, offering a hand.
"Hello. I'm Arianna Dumbledore."
Dumbledore stood, rooted to the spot. His head was swirling and he thought that he would be sick. The lady in front of him looked at him keenly, as if expecting him to do something. His bewilderment quickly gave way to anger. This was obviously some one's idea of a sick joke, yet he couldn't understand how they would've known about Arianna. As if sensing his emotions, she quickly spoke up.
"I assure you, this is not a joke. I know it seems like a big shock to you, after all these years, but it is the first time I've been able to find exactly where you are. Believe me, it was some job trying to get here, just to-what do you call it? Hogwarts, is it? Well whatever it is called, you sure like to keep it hidden…"
She went and Dumbledore's heart was filled with a strange feeling, as if he thought that this lady might actually be his daughter could be real. She took a step towards him, as if to embrace him in a hug of welcome, but he took a step back. She looked hurt and at that precise moment, he saw Jade in her face; the same crossed eyebrows and delicate lips.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, you died. You're dead. You've been dead for thirty years."
He tried to gain control of his mind, but it was useless. The look on her face was too similar to that of Jade's for the lady not to be Arianna. He knew that he should feel love for his daughter, but all he felt was fear. He was hallucinating, he knew it. It was his imagination. Arianna was dead. She died thirty years ago.
"I think that we should go to talk somewhere private," she spoke softly. Because his mouth was so dry, all he could do was nod mutely. He led her up to his office, trying hard to remember to breathe as she raved on about the beauty of the castle. Finally, they reached the gargoyle statue that had welcomed him for the past thirty years as headmaster at Hogwarts.
"Jelly-bean monsters," he mumbled softly. The gargoyle sprang to life to reveal the doorway into his office. All of a sudden, as he stepped into the room, he felt safe and secure. This was his territory and nothing could faze him whilst he was in it. Walking over, he ruffled the feathers of Fawkes who was at his peak; his gold and red plumage shimmering in the soft candlelight. Sitting at his grand desk, he watched as the lady pulled up a chair and sat down.
"I think that you owe me an explanation for this horrid, cruel joke that you obviously think is-"
"But it is not a joke. Believe me. Just listen to me, please."
Her face was so grief stricken that Dumbledore felt compelled to comply and nodded gently, showing that he wished for her to continue.
"Well, it all started five years ago. I've been living in Australia for the past thirty years and I didn't know much about my past. I was told that my parents were both killed in a freak accident involving accident. I knew nothing about me being a witch at all back then. I grew up, believing that I had no family and lived a normal life with a very caring foster family, the Jones. I attended a school for witches and wizards in a place called Croydon, in Sydney. It was called the Robinson's Foundation for the Edwin School of Arts. I had a marvelous time there and graduated with 58 and a half C.O.W.S."
Dumbledore butted in at this point with a question.
"C.O.W.S?"
"Commonly Ordinary Witch (Wizard) Stars. It is the grading system. C.O.W.S of 45 and above are considered genius. So obviously, I was very proud of myself. But then I began to wonder about my family history. I tried to get contacts through to England but, as I did not know my last name, I was unable to. Then, five years ago, I found out that my last name was Dumbledore. As imagined, that wasn't a very common name. So when I tried to trace my family again, I found that my mother had been killed while riding a Hippogriff. Yet there was nothing about my father. Concerned, I wrote to the Ministry of Magic here and got a letter from Cornelius Fudge. He explained where you were and all that happened- look; I may as well read it out to you.
"Dear Arianna,
In reply to your concerns about the whereabouts of your father, I am very pleased to give you this information on him. His name is Albus Dumbledore and he is currently headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He's believed to be dead for thirty years now, as you and your mother were involved in a freak accident whilst flying on a Hippogriff. They presumed you dead as they never round you or your body. It seems though that you are quite truly alive.
As you father is a great man (I might add here that he has received an Order of Merlin), I will be immensely pleased in bringing you over here to England if you wish to meet him. Please send back a reply as soon as you can and I shall make any arrangements necessary.
Yours,
Cornelius Fudge.
Cornelius Fudge,
Mininster of Magic.
"So, I took Mr.Fudge up on his very kind offer and arranged to come here to meet you. Mr.Fudge did all he could, but I had to wait three weeks to meet you as I have no Apparating license and cannot fly a broom. So, in the meantime, I decided to look up on the freak accident that took my mothers life. Old newspaper in the Wizards Library of Sydney, showed that the Hippogriff, called Squaridonn, narrowly missed a plane. Freaked, it bucked and we, my mother and I, were not able to hold on. Yet, how could my mother die and not me? I tried thinking very hard and I remember a pink flash followed by gold and silver stars. That's all."
"Checking up on things, I found out that my mother had used the Feather Charm, which made me light as a feather. Because of this, I must have floated to Australia, or somewhere far away. My conclusion is that my mother did not have time to save herself. So," Arianna choked at this point, trying to fight back tears as she spoke."So, my mother died for me."
She looked down at the table, in guilt and shame, looking terribly uncomfortable with herself. Dumbledore realised she blamed the death of Jade on herself. This very look on her face dashed all doubts in Dumbledore's mind of this lady not being his daughter.
"Oh, Arianna, please. Do not cry. You are a great gift to me and I cannot believe that I have you back. It is only tears of joy that we should be crying, Arianna, tears of joy…" he murmured softly into her hair as he cuddled the daughter he had thought he lost all those years ago, the daughter who had come back to him.
*
A shrill screeching sound near the window woke Dumbledore sharply the next day at 11 o'clock. He stretched and saw an owl at the window. It was the queerest owl, small and grey, twittering around like an excited clown. He did not want to go over and collect the note it was bearing. He just wanted to reflect on the previous nights encounter and his meeting his daughter after thirty years of thinking him dead. But he had to and he knew it.
He climbed slowly out of the bed and walked over to the window to retrieve the letter tied to its leg. Scanning through it quickly, he gasped in horror. Dropping it, he pulled on his cloak and was out the door in a flash, bumping into Minerva McGonagall on the way.
"Albus, how come you were not at breakfast…" she trailed off as she noticed him hurrying away.
"No time to explain, Minerva. Extremely important business."
He disappeared around the corner. Frowning, Minerva walked into his office. Noticing the yellowed parchment lying on the floor, she picked it up. Intending to place it back onto his desk, already scattered with parchment and quills, she stopped short as she glanced at the hurriedly scrawled handwriting on it. Reading on, she gasped in horror.
Dear Pr. Dumbledore,
We need your help immediately. Mum and Dad went shopping yesterday to Diagon Alley and have not returned. Extremely worried. Then a note came this morning.
"If you want your parents back, give me Harry Potter or else…."
It was signed: Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Please help sir. Extremely anxious.