On a quiet, chilly morning in February, I learned there is no God.
The year's been so cold. Since we came back from the winter holiday, everyone has been sleeping in late or lingering around the fire in the common room. They come scurrying up from the dungeons and down from the towers to the Great Hall, hoping to grab a quick bite and whatever mail their owls have brought before dashing to their morning classes. The owls seem rather disgruntled over the change in routine and I've heard a few teachers muttering about tardiness, but no one wants to trudge into a cold, stone classroom when their snuggled up in bed.
Only…I've never been much for sleeping in. So I wind up sitting mostly alone each morning, watching the other scattered early risers and the grumpy owls over a nice, hot bowl of porridge and a slice of toad in the hole. It's quiet and peaceful and I love it.
There isn't any mail for me today, but that's alright. Mother's letters have a nasty habit of being simultaneously flattering and chastising. I really don't mind if I don't hear from her for a week or so, but I might have liked to hear how Aunt Dee's latest round of testing has gone.
Then again, it's always so nerve-wracking to read those letters here in the castle. Just about anyone could look over my shoulder while I'm reading or filch them from my trunk when I'm done. It's not like I could stop them.
Unfortunately, my peace wasn't made to last. Just as the other students began to flood the doors, so did Professor Slughorn's great girth. I worry about a man his age and size. It couldn't be good for his health. He's all a flutter and glancing up and down the length of the Slytherin table. Soon enough everyone has taken notice and their each looking to their neighbors. No one bothers to ask the professor who he's looking for before he's thrown up his hands, spun rather gracefully, and harrumphed out the Hall.
It isn't until Arithmancy that I found out it was me. He was looking for me.
Professor Vector was much better with faces than Slughorn.
The Head Girl, a rather snotty (bother literally and figuratively) Ravenclaw, came bearing a message. The wrinkles in Vector's craggy face seemed to droop as she read it and then she looked straight at me. She didn't have to search. She didn't call my name. She looked into my eyes and ushered me up to the front of the room. I had to go see Dumbledore.
I'd never been to the Headmaster's office once in nearly five years at Hogwarts and now he was sending people out looking for me?
The Ravenclaw blew her nose as daintily as possible and together we set off for the eagle statue that hid the secret entrance to the Headmaster's office. Of course, it wasn't a secret, but it was a nice thought. She hissed a password that made her smile to say before the eagle spun and revealed stairs. Rotating stairs were a small kindness to the damned, it seemed.
At the top, we waited until Professor Slughorn opened the door. His eyes flicked back and forth between me and the Head Girl. It seemed it was my robes which gave me away in the end. "Ah! Miss Einarsson, you are one young lady hard to track down. I've been looking for you all morning." He tried to smile, it just fell very flat. I wondered if I'd broken some terrible rule. Was there really a first for everything? I couldn't even bring myself to point out to my Head of House that he'd looked right at me just half an hour ago when he clearly didn't recognize me.
"I'm sorry about that, Professor." The moment I spoke I had the oddest sensation. It was as though something fell into place and my skin froze stiff around me. I felt trapped. "I-I've been studying."
The three of us – Slughorn, the snot-nosed Head Girl and me – stood awkwardly in a dim alcove not really meant as a reception area for a moment until the professor waved the other girl off and brought me inside the office main. Dumbledore was there, waiting. And so was Flavienne.
She was crying.
I have seen more tears from Flavienne than any other person in my life. Sometimes I wonder if the girl will simply wither and dry up one day. I gave her a well-practiced, sympathetic smile and hold my arms open as she came flying out of her chair. The hair around her face was wet, she'd been weeping so much.
We stand together in the doorway. I rock us from side to side, shushing and blushing at our display in front of the professors, while Flavienne only sobs and burbles. I can't understand a thing she is saying.
"Quiet, Lovey. Quiet now." I knew she'd have to work through this before there'd be any reasoning, but I can never help myself with Flavienne. "Tell me what this is about."
There was another moment or so of unhindered blubbering. My sister tried and tried again to explain, but all I could make out was 'dead'. I don't know what sort of trouble she might have found, but I do know how it is to fear our parents' wrath. "Just breathe and we'll talk. No one's going to be dead, Lovey."
Flavienne let loose a hideous, gut-wrenching wail, leaned heavy against me, all her energy going into the deluge. A throat cleared as a wrinkled hand clasps my shoulder. I'm nearly as tall as the Headmaster I heard legends of as a little girl. But the Great Albus Dumbledore didn't look so great in that moment. He was a very old man. I don't think I ever noticed before, but Dumbledore must be ancient. His eyes sparkled too bright in his old face and I'm sure he was waiting for me to break down like Flavienne. I can't. I know I can't, no matter what's happened.
"Perhaps you would be more comfortable if you took a seat."
We were gently herded to the sitting area where Flavienne and Dumbledore had been before I arrived. As I sat, I noticed Professor Slughorn had slipped out of the room and consider when. Was it when Flavienne burst into hysterics? When the Headmaster intervened? Shouldn't our Head of House be here if someone is in trouble?
There's a small lull. My sister gasping against my shoulder in an attempt to reclaim some sort of composure. Me staring at the old man on the sofa in front of me who is so much more than he is. He had my answers, but from the look on his face, I don't think I wanted them after all.
Professor Dumbledore finally telling me what had happened.
My sister was dead.
Hello! First off, thank you so much for reading my first chapter of my first chapter!... Well, the first I've written since I took down my old account a couple years back. Fresh start. This story has been a long time coming and has undergone I-Can't-Even-Tell-You-How-Many revisions to get here. I changed my mind and added part of chapter two to make one feel a little more complete.
Do you like it? Because I think I actually do.