"No!"
There was silence for a moment, as the wizard pacing before her ceased his muttered explanation, turning to stare in surprise at her seated form. "'No'?" He inquired blankly.
"You can't… please… I don't know who you all are, and how you could do the things I saw you do, but, I swear, I'll never tell a soul, I just—" feeling enormously self-conscious, she paused and glanced around at the troubled faces in every direction, less than perfectly visible in the dim room. A wrinkled, grandmotherly old woman; a somewhat younger man looking very presidential, another tall man with piercing dark green eyes, that reminded her of last night and… she shuddered slightly.
"Why in heavens not? You family no longer has any memory of the incident, your parents, brothers – all would think you mad if you attempt to explain. In time, you would even doubt your own sanity. My dear," he placed his hand comfortingly on her back "it is a painful memory you do not have to live with. Already, you…" he trailed off. The girl, slender body ramrod straight in the wooden chair, deep purple eyes and small mouth stubbornly still, did not seem to be of a mind to change her position.
"Please, I," she cleared her throat and smoothed black hair, swallowing and blinking, the unmistakable beginnings of a rather awkward show of emotion, "I can't; please don't… I, it's too precious to me. I believe," she looked up, took a deep, confident breath, and spoke firmly "I believe in the truth. I value it... almost above all else. I won't, I mean, I couldn't even, there isn't – just please, let me keep it. Let it slip by -- just this once." His hand raised from her shoulder to his own lips as he pondered her request. Everyone else seemed, well, just taken aback.
"Enough of this." The bureaucracy of it all seemed to be too much for the man with the green eyes. "Let's do it and have done! She is what she is!" he pointed a stick at her, and Erin was afraid she might feel pain, like before, but he only uttered a few syllables, "Obliv-"
"Mr. Venefice!" interrupted the grandmotherly woman, who seemed to be able to summon any amount of fearsome authority instantly. "We have not yet deliberated! Put that down!" Face tight with resentment, Mr. Venefice resumed his seat. Erin shivered, wondering what he was about to do… hahah, "to do", that rhymed, too doo, tu du… she shook her head to clear it, and lucidity returned. She returned her attention to the elderly man waiting to give his response.
"My dear," the epithet began to grate on her nerves, "we cannot simply let you go back into the mug- back into your world with the memories you now possess. The consequences of your knowledge, why, the scandal alone would… I regret to say, it is quite impossible."
Her already pale face whitened, and her breathing began to pick up as she fought down panic, casting about for anything, "Well, if I can't go back to, to where I was, then perhaps I could, I could – stay with… all of you!" Eyebrows shot upwards. Even the white-bearded wizard now in conversation with her coughed in surprise.
"I'm not sure that is a sacrifice you could – a sacrifice you *should* be willing to make. After all, your family, your home…" He was clearly uneasy at this new turn; he didn't even catch her wince at the word "home".
"Please." She stared directly into his eyes, "I beg you. Don't hide the truth from me, that part of the truth I already know. Don't change me… don't change me." His beard twitched as he pursed his lips, unsure of himself. His eyes closed, and his eyeballs twitched wildly in their sockets. Taken aback herself, she could only stare in bewilderment. His eyes opened, and he sighed faintly before he spoke again.
"What you are asking involves leaving your home," her mouth twitched faintly again, "and family without a word, and never returning – attending, instead of your own mu- muggle school," he clearly only spoke the word to her reluctantly, "a school of magic, populated by pupils and teachers with that same gift, whose adequacy for your needs you will have to take on faith only. You would never," he eyed her significantly "be able to return to your old life, or speak to anyone you have ever known. You would be under constant supervision, and an object of curiosity, seen as inadequate with your lack of any magical gift. This" he stared directly into her eyes, emphasizing the importance of his statement, "has never been done before."
She took a moment, chin resting on her fist, to weigh her decision carefully, forcing herself to think reasonably even while she could scarcely believe the word trumpeting in her brain: MAGIC! He said, a school of MAGIC!! I knew it must exist! I KNEW it! She forced her thoughts to this terrible risk, to her life thus far. The exercise, she knew, was futile. Erin Hightower, the youngest in her family, the quiet, bookish… the one who would never take risks, had only (she thought grimly) one possible decision. Steeling herself, she raised her head to meet his gaze, and nodded.