Chapter Two: Albus
Thankfully I got through the airport quickly enough. When I arrived, there was one ticket for a plane going to London that left in about an hour and a half. I paid using the credit card I had stolen from Agatha three months ago. Surprise, bitch.
Once I had secured my ticket, I went through customs and was set. Now I was in the air on my way to London. On my left was an older lady, maybe sixty-five, who was reading. On my right was a man in a business suit. He had short brown hair and he looked Italian. I'll take one of those to go, please. I tried to think of other things besides the fun this man and I could have within the next few hours. I had only left the country once, and that was to go to Mexico when I was younger. For some reason, I was very nervous. I decided to sleep it off.
I awoke to the annoying voice of what could only be a stewardess. "Please bring your seat forward. We're about to land." Not wanting to, I simply repositioned myself and closed my eyes again. I heard the older lady to my left stifle a laugh as the stewardess sighed and walk off. Twenty minutes later I awoke and we hadn't even landed yet. I decided that was all the sleep I needed, so I fixed my chair and fastened my seatbelt for landing.
Hot businessman next to me was just coming back from the bathroom and he smiled at me as he sat down. I smiled back and gave him my flirty eyes. They had never failed me. Shit, Althea, he's like 30. Pull yourself together. I looked away just as the stewardess from before came back down the aisles trying to get people to get ready for landing. Seeing that I was already ready, she huffed and moved on. That made me laugh, and in result my aisle mates laughed too. The stewardess was NOT happy.
After landing and exiting the plane, I realized that finding my way around London was going to be even more difficult that I thought. There were so many people, and I had no idea where I was supposed to go. I made my way onto the crowded streets with Shamira and my luggage when I saw an old man with a sign that read "Althea Outterridge" in big black letters. And when I said this guy was old, I meant it. He was like prehistoric. He has a long white beard and he was probably about one hundred years old, but he looked wise and comforting. I approached him confidently.
"Hello, my name is Althea Outterridge."
"Hello, madam," the man replied in an amazingly calming voice. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. Shall we go somewhere more private to talk? Are you hungry at all?" I nodded silently and Albus turned to walk away. I followed him as he weaved in and out of the crowds of people.
We soon came upon a dingy diner that seemed to be empty. We walked over to a booth and sat. Out of nowhere came a waitress named Cindy. She looked about thirty years old. Her thin blonde hair was short and curled big, like back in the eighty's. She had a blank look on her face. Apparently the lights were on, but nobody was home. She popped her gum and took our order without even looking at us. Albus ordered a hot tea and I ordered a big cheeseburger with an iced tea. I hadn't eaten all day. Too nervous. Once our food came and the waitress was out of earshot, Albus broke the silence.
"Do you know why you're here, Miss Outterridge?" he asked in a calm voice. He looked at me and took a sip of his tea, waiting for my response.
"I assume it's because I have yet to finish my magic training and I've been kicked out of every school except yours." I answered truthfully. Albus chuckled.
"Yes, that's one reason why you're here. Your feistiness has gotten you into a lot of trouble, but that's not what we're here to talk about. We're here to talk about your powers."
"Why? What about them?" Of course I knew I had powers, but they were nothing out of the ordinary.
As if reading my mind, Albus continued. "Do you know what your name means?" What? Where the hell are you going with this? I shook my head and looked at him like he was crazy.
"Althea comes from Greek mythology and it means 'healing'. Outterridge comes from Old English and it means 'power'." He looked as if waiting for it to dawn on me, but the light bulb wasn't going off.
"That's just a coincidence. I don't have any powers like that. Besides, Agatha would never have been smart enough to name me something that had actual meaning." Albus laughed.
"Of course your mother wasn't that smart. But your father was."
I froze midway through dousing my burger with ketchup and looked dumbly at him. I had never known my father. Agatha said he was an asshole, but her being the Queen Bitch of the Muggles (another charming nickname I had for her), she was probably wrong. Albus didn't say anything as I took a moment to collect my thoughts. When I was finally finished, I spoke.
"You knew my father?" I asked dumbly. After thinking for about three minutes, that was still all I could come up with.
"Yes I knew him very well." Sensing that I knew nothing of my father, he continued. "Your father was a hero. He was charming, successful, and quite handsome. Some called him perfect. His only fault was that he always tried to see the good in people, even when they had no good in them. That's how a man like your father ended up married to a woman like -"
"Agatha." I spat. I had always wondered why in the hell someone had ever wanted to procreate with her. Albus nodded and continued in a solemn tone.
"I'm sorry to tell you that your father never met you. On the night you were born, he saved a house of orphans in a half-blood neighborhood from burning down. Voldemort has started the fire, and he was not happy with your father when he found out that he had saved most of the children. Your father volunteered his life in exchange for all the children to be set free. He liked your father's bravery, so he agreed. Voldemort then went on a rampage and did terrible things, including kill the parents of the boy who lived."
"Harry Potter," I said softly and closed my eyes. It was so much to take in. Finally I whispered "What was his name?"
"Your father's name was Alexander, which in Greek mythology means 'to defend'." In the silence a tear slid down my cheek and I knew what I had to do. But that would come later. For now, there were other things to do.
"I'm very glad you told me this, Albus, but what does this have to do with my magic?"
"A great deal, I assure you." Albus said with a smile. "You have the power to heal people. It is your gift."
"No, no." I shook my head. "I don't have any special powers. This is my seventh and final year of schooling. With all due respect, I think I'd know if I had that ability."
"Oh, but you do." In an instant, Albus had a tiny knife in his right hand and he drew a line across his left palm. It automatically turned pink and then began to bleed profusely. My eyes widened and I got up to get help, but his hand pulled me back into the booth.
"No," he said harshly, "Don't get help. Heal it with your mind." I just looked at him like he was crazy. That seemed to happen to him a lot.
"I can't! I'm telling you, I don't have that power!" I grabbed his hand and held it in my own, putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I squeezed as hard as I could as Albus just sat there watching. He smiled after a minute and drew his hand away from my own. The cut was gone, as was the blood. All signs of an injury had disappeared.
"What the ...?" I mumbled as a grabbed his hand and looked at it, turning it over and over in my hand, looking for any signs of damage. There were none.
"I will train you this year to use your powers and become strong, but for now we must go." Albus got up and set some muggle money on the table before we walked out. Once outside, Albus handed me a hotel key and a train ticket.
"There is a hotel for you to stay at tonight. Tomorrow you will board this train and it will take you to Hogsmeade. I will meet you there and we can get you settled in to your room at Hogwarts." I smiled and on pure instinct, reached out and hugged him. I was not a hug-giving type, so this shocked the both of us for a second before he embraced me back.
"Thank you very much, Albus, for everything." I said softly. He smiled and nodded and we both parted ways. I went into the convenience store down the street to get a map. I knew exactly what I was doing for the rest of the night.
Four hours later, I was standing in the bathroom of my hotel room, looking at my chest. Under my left breast, directly above my heart were the words 'Alexander Outterridge' in beautiful white script.