Act 1
Safe as Houses
In which Dumbledore's Previous Actions regarding our Heroine are Detailed,
A Spirit weeps and Harry ponders his Past.
17 years ago
"Corinna! Corinna, where are you hiding now?" asked the old woman, calling loudly over the noise of many different conversations. She looked under the tablecloth, then behind the settee, discovering a group of gossiping relatives wearing colourful paper hats. The party was going well so far, she thought, none of the family members and argued or fought yet, despite the large number of alliances and the backstabbing she knew took place between them daily. Everyone was too full to fight, just as she had planned.
"I'm here, Umma!" cried a little girl behind her. The woman turned, and carefully scooped up her granddaughter into her arms.
"My, you're getting too big for me! How old are you?" she asked playfully, pulling at the child's soft black curls, and adjusting the sparkling tiara.
"I'm seven, you know I'm seven, cos it's my birthday today, and we're at my party, and we just had cake, and I had SEVEN candles, and I blew them all out, and I made a wish," she declared. Her grandmother smiled, and carried her through the crowd of people, stepping carefully over fallen balloons and the paper plates covered in crumbs, and into the quiet of the kitchen. She placed the girl on the counter and kissed her on the forehead. She turned away, rummaging in the drawer for the key to the back door.
"And did you wish for what I told you?" the woman asked, trying to keep her voice light and cheerful. She'd seen the signs, and she knew she had to protect her family, especially this particular child. She couldn't risk exposure, not now. It was too dangerous.
"Yes, I wished that a magical man would come tonight, and that he would have lots of sweets, and Auntie Jessie said I was much too young to be wishing for that, and that I should wish it for her instead, but I didn't, cos Uncle Roo said too many men visit her at night already, and- "
"That's very good. And now, shall we go outside? There are many stars in the sky tonight for you to see." She picked her grandchild off of the counter, and held her small hand tightly as she opened the door, and walked out into the dark garden.
Dumbledore was already there, waiting for them. He leaned against the fence, and smiled kindly at Corinna, slipping the child some jelly babies as her grandmother thanked him for coming.
"I was afraid you wouldn't make it. I understand that you are very occupied right now with the Voldemort business," she whispered, not wanting the little girl who was busy gobbling sweets to hear this particular conversation.
"I'm sorry to say I have been very busy. Things are not going well in the wizarding world, as you have no doubt gathered. Every day, the resistance weakens as its members die in battle." He observed the tears now visible in the old woman's eyes and changed his tone. "Are you sure you want me to do this? I do not know if it can be reversed."
"Do it. I know of no better way to protect her and my family, and you know how dangerous this gift, this curse is. How many died on Sunday?"
"Seven of the Bennett family. The eldest son escaped the attack. He was out of the country."
"I knew the mother, many years ago. She was a good woman, and what for? The attacks are so close! Hardly five miles from here." She shivered despite the warmth of the night, and stood staring the night sky, as if she could read the stars. Dumbledore bent down to Corinna.
"Hello," the child whispered, in awe of the long white beard. He unwrapped a lollipop and handed it to her. "Who are you?" "I," he paused dramatically, noting the intelligence in her eyes, "am your godfather." She stopped sucking the lolly, and thought about it.
"No you're not. I don't have one." Dumbledore chided her.
"Haven't you ever heard of a secret godfather? Doesn't your grandmother ever mention them?"
"Nope. What's your name then? If you're my secret godfather, I should still know your name. If you have one, and it isn't a secret," the girl teased. Her tongue was beginning to turn blue. The wizard laughed.
"Yes, I do have a name, and I don't believe that it is a secret, at least, not yet. Everyone calls me Albus Dumbledore, or 'that interfering old wizard'."
"Really? Your name's Dumbledore? S'odd. What's it mean?"
"I believe it is the Old English word for 'bumblebee', though I couldn't tell you how my family managed to acquire it as a surname."
"Bumblebee's a much nicer name. You should say it's your real one, and wear yellow and black stripy clothes. Has my tongue turned blue yet?" she stuck her tongue out for inspection.
"It has. Will you do something for me?" Corinna stared at him. He looked sad.
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Would you close your eyes?" She did, and immediately began to feel sleepy. She yawned. Bumblebee was saying something, and she couldn't understand it, but she didn't mind. She just wanted to sleep.
Dumbledore caught her before she fell, and handed the child to her grandmother. The old woman looked tired, but happy.
"Thank you," she said, rocking her grandchild in her arms. Dumbledore left via the gate, and apparated in the darkness.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Present day
"Black! You worthless animagus, why don't you ever come when you're called for?"
The scowling image of Phineas Nigellus floated through the picture frames of 12 Grimmauld Place, alternately taunting and calling for Sirius.
"What kind of a half-witted dog are you? Black! Show yourself!" Nigellus, the first, last and only Slytherin to become Headmaster at Hogwarts refused to believe that Sirius Black, his descendent, was dead. He would not accept that the House of Black was finished, that it had ended on such a pitiful note. He tried again.
"BLACK!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry sat among the bushes at the front of his aunt's house on Privet Drive and tried to ignore Uncle Vernon, who was shouting at him through the window.
"DON'T JUST SIT THERE MAKING THE GARDEN LOOK UNTIDY! WHAT WILL THE NEIGHBOURS THINK? GET IN HERE AND FINISH CLEANING DUDLEY'S ROOM AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE, YOU CAN BLOODY WELL DO THE DISHES TOO! DON'T THINK YOU'RE GETTING AWAY WITH DOING NOTHING AGAIN!"
Harry picked off one of the flowers hanging above him and proceeded to pull it apart, wishing Sirius would suddenly apparate in front of him and tell Harry all about his amazing escape, that Padfoot would come bounding down the road and lick his nose so that Harry could pull a face and wipe off the drool, that some exotic bird would swoop down and drop a letter in Harry's lap that read:
Dear Harry,
Don't worry, I'm fine. Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Ended up in the Far East and am bringing back cheap souvenirs for you all. Take care, and let me or Dumbledore know if anything strange happens over the summer.
PS. Don't blame Dumbledore for what he told you. He believed it at the time.
Love, Snuffles
But Harry knew it wouldn't happen. It never did. For years his parents had failed to appear at the Dursley's door to take him home. Cedric hadn't miraculously started breathing at the end of the triwizard tournament, no matter how close Harry held the boy's body to his own. Sirius would never come back.
Harry scattered the pieces of the flower at his feet, where it joined the growing pile. He picked off another of the flowers that hung above him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Safe as Houses
In which Dumbledore's Previous Actions regarding our Heroine are Detailed,
A Spirit weeps and Harry ponders his Past.
17 years ago
"Corinna! Corinna, where are you hiding now?" asked the old woman, calling loudly over the noise of many different conversations. She looked under the tablecloth, then behind the settee, discovering a group of gossiping relatives wearing colourful paper hats. The party was going well so far, she thought, none of the family members and argued or fought yet, despite the large number of alliances and the backstabbing she knew took place between them daily. Everyone was too full to fight, just as she had planned.
"I'm here, Umma!" cried a little girl behind her. The woman turned, and carefully scooped up her granddaughter into her arms.
"My, you're getting too big for me! How old are you?" she asked playfully, pulling at the child's soft black curls, and adjusting the sparkling tiara.
"I'm seven, you know I'm seven, cos it's my birthday today, and we're at my party, and we just had cake, and I had SEVEN candles, and I blew them all out, and I made a wish," she declared. Her grandmother smiled, and carried her through the crowd of people, stepping carefully over fallen balloons and the paper plates covered in crumbs, and into the quiet of the kitchen. She placed the girl on the counter and kissed her on the forehead. She turned away, rummaging in the drawer for the key to the back door.
"And did you wish for what I told you?" the woman asked, trying to keep her voice light and cheerful. She'd seen the signs, and she knew she had to protect her family, especially this particular child. She couldn't risk exposure, not now. It was too dangerous.
"Yes, I wished that a magical man would come tonight, and that he would have lots of sweets, and Auntie Jessie said I was much too young to be wishing for that, and that I should wish it for her instead, but I didn't, cos Uncle Roo said too many men visit her at night already, and- "
"That's very good. And now, shall we go outside? There are many stars in the sky tonight for you to see." She picked her grandchild off of the counter, and held her small hand tightly as she opened the door, and walked out into the dark garden.
Dumbledore was already there, waiting for them. He leaned against the fence, and smiled kindly at Corinna, slipping the child some jelly babies as her grandmother thanked him for coming.
"I was afraid you wouldn't make it. I understand that you are very occupied right now with the Voldemort business," she whispered, not wanting the little girl who was busy gobbling sweets to hear this particular conversation.
"I'm sorry to say I have been very busy. Things are not going well in the wizarding world, as you have no doubt gathered. Every day, the resistance weakens as its members die in battle." He observed the tears now visible in the old woman's eyes and changed his tone. "Are you sure you want me to do this? I do not know if it can be reversed."
"Do it. I know of no better way to protect her and my family, and you know how dangerous this gift, this curse is. How many died on Sunday?"
"Seven of the Bennett family. The eldest son escaped the attack. He was out of the country."
"I knew the mother, many years ago. She was a good woman, and what for? The attacks are so close! Hardly five miles from here." She shivered despite the warmth of the night, and stood staring the night sky, as if she could read the stars. Dumbledore bent down to Corinna.
"Hello," the child whispered, in awe of the long white beard. He unwrapped a lollipop and handed it to her. "Who are you?" "I," he paused dramatically, noting the intelligence in her eyes, "am your godfather." She stopped sucking the lolly, and thought about it.
"No you're not. I don't have one." Dumbledore chided her.
"Haven't you ever heard of a secret godfather? Doesn't your grandmother ever mention them?"
"Nope. What's your name then? If you're my secret godfather, I should still know your name. If you have one, and it isn't a secret," the girl teased. Her tongue was beginning to turn blue. The wizard laughed.
"Yes, I do have a name, and I don't believe that it is a secret, at least, not yet. Everyone calls me Albus Dumbledore, or 'that interfering old wizard'."
"Really? Your name's Dumbledore? S'odd. What's it mean?"
"I believe it is the Old English word for 'bumblebee', though I couldn't tell you how my family managed to acquire it as a surname."
"Bumblebee's a much nicer name. You should say it's your real one, and wear yellow and black stripy clothes. Has my tongue turned blue yet?" she stuck her tongue out for inspection.
"It has. Will you do something for me?" Corinna stared at him. He looked sad.
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Would you close your eyes?" She did, and immediately began to feel sleepy. She yawned. Bumblebee was saying something, and she couldn't understand it, but she didn't mind. She just wanted to sleep.
Dumbledore caught her before she fell, and handed the child to her grandmother. The old woman looked tired, but happy.
"Thank you," she said, rocking her grandchild in her arms. Dumbledore left via the gate, and apparated in the darkness.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Present day
"Black! You worthless animagus, why don't you ever come when you're called for?"
The scowling image of Phineas Nigellus floated through the picture frames of 12 Grimmauld Place, alternately taunting and calling for Sirius.
"What kind of a half-witted dog are you? Black! Show yourself!" Nigellus, the first, last and only Slytherin to become Headmaster at Hogwarts refused to believe that Sirius Black, his descendent, was dead. He would not accept that the House of Black was finished, that it had ended on such a pitiful note. He tried again.
"BLACK!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry sat among the bushes at the front of his aunt's house on Privet Drive and tried to ignore Uncle Vernon, who was shouting at him through the window.
"DON'T JUST SIT THERE MAKING THE GARDEN LOOK UNTIDY! WHAT WILL THE NEIGHBOURS THINK? GET IN HERE AND FINISH CLEANING DUDLEY'S ROOM AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE, YOU CAN BLOODY WELL DO THE DISHES TOO! DON'T THINK YOU'RE GETTING AWAY WITH DOING NOTHING AGAIN!"
Harry picked off one of the flowers hanging above him and proceeded to pull it apart, wishing Sirius would suddenly apparate in front of him and tell Harry all about his amazing escape, that Padfoot would come bounding down the road and lick his nose so that Harry could pull a face and wipe off the drool, that some exotic bird would swoop down and drop a letter in Harry's lap that read:
Dear Harry,
Don't worry, I'm fine. Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Ended up in the Far East and am bringing back cheap souvenirs for you all. Take care, and let me or Dumbledore know if anything strange happens over the summer.
PS. Don't blame Dumbledore for what he told you. He believed it at the time.
Love, Snuffles
But Harry knew it wouldn't happen. It never did. For years his parents had failed to appear at the Dursley's door to take him home. Cedric hadn't miraculously started breathing at the end of the triwizard tournament, no matter how close Harry held the boy's body to his own. Sirius would never come back.
Harry scattered the pieces of the flower at his feet, where it joined the growing pile. He picked off another of the flowers that hung above him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *