Is there anybody out there, reading this story?? )

If there is, please tell me, because I feel like I'm writing to no one...

to my only reviewer queen q,

I wrote an answer to you in the previous version, but it is deleted now, so I write it again.

This is AU, soo Dumbledore isn't gay here, and thank you very much for your praises! I'm really flattered. )

And I think a beta would be a great help, but how is the thing works??

Anyway, I'm shutting up! :D

Yepp I edited it!!

I hope it is better, the ending and the little quarrel between Belle and Isabelle... )

Next morning, Isabella woke up with a tapping sound on her window by an owl, a black one this time, carrying a letter from Belle's babysitter, Penny. She hesitantly got out of bed, opened the window and dropped some knuts into the bag hanged onto the fierce looking owl.

Ms. Putey,

I'm terribly sorry to inform you that I won't be able to come today as well, the dragon pox that I've been suffering from haven't even subsided yet.

Again, I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience.

Penny

She sighed as she folded the parchment and headed to her wardrobe, deciding to wear a brown robe with beige strands here and there, complimenting her hair, but a gleam in the section that she kept her accessories caught her eyes, and with a spontaneous decision, she grabbed a necklace, one of Albus' birthday presents, and put the necklace on. Then she wrote a letter to Daisy, explaining the situation and asking if they were available.

She advanced to Belle's room, then, not very eager to wake her daughter who was definitely not a morning person.

Fifteen minutes later, Belle was awake, wearing her jeans with a nice tank top, deciding that her mother was right about her choices of attire, and gaping at her mother, who was making two sandwiches out of thin air and reading Auntie Daisy's confirmation letter at the same time.

'How can you do that, mother?' she asked awe prominent in her voice.

'How can I do what, honey?' she asked, now her attention was fully on her daughter.

'Magic...' she answered, saying the word as if it was sacred.



'Honey, you remember how you turned your new robes to a radiant shade of pink when we realized Madame Malkin made them blue instead of pink?' she asked remembering her daughter doing that particular advanced spell. 'Think it as a first step, sweetheart, and then you will go to Hogwarts, like all of us did, and learn how to control your magic.' She added, remembering her school years, without Albus, him being already graduated when she started school.

'Did you meet my father there?' her daughter asked, in a nearly inaudible voice, munching her sandwich at the same time.

'I will not talk about this. ' she responded, frowning to her daughter.

'But I want to know, he is my father, I should know! 'Belle said, unconvinced, and rather rough.

'No you shouldn't! How will it help, Belle, he wouldn't even have time for us. He has responsibilities. And this is the last time we are talking about that particular topic. Now hurry. We are late for Auntie Daisy's, so better get going! Come here! ' she said, getting ready for apparation.

'Mommy, I don't wanna apparate... I feel like I'm drowning when we apparate...' Belle whispered, begging silently with her chocolate brown eyes.

'Honey, I'm already late to work...' Isabelle said, but seeing the expression on her daughter, she couldn't resist, and she cuddled her and added in a compassionate voice, 'We can fly here, since they haven't installed the floo powder.' With a sweet kiss on her daughter's cotton-soft cheeks, she went to their broom cupboard, and grabbed one.

Approximately ten minutes later, the last traces of their house were lost, and they were flying in the freezing September morning. Belle was positioned in front of Isabella who was in a rather protective stance, and despite the fact that little girl was still sleepy; she could still admire the view of London metres above. Her mother's necklace, which was gorgeous, she thought, with a blue stone in the middle of a elaborately carved silver plate, occasionally bumped to her head, not hurting, but enough to attract her attention, for she had never seen her mother wearing it before, so curiosity got the best of her and she asked her mother about it, who didn't like her attention scattered while flying.

'Mother, where is that fancy necklace from?' she asked, in a sweet voice.

'It is a birthday present, honey. It is a very special necklace, by the way; do you see the blue stone in the middle? You can restore memories in it, to remember it whenever you want.' She answered her daughter, remembering the memory in it, the time she learned she was pregnant, probably the happiest memory of her life.

She had barely finished her sentence when she saw them, flying straight to her and her daughter: A group of dark wizards, like a mist, unknown, thus, dangerous. However, as the Head of Auror Department, she could see that fate brought her death hidden in the mist with Grindelward and his companions.

She thought about going back home, but she knew she couldn't, with a group of powerful wizards trailing her. She thought about apparating, but when she saw the green orb shining in the 

hands of the older wizard who was leading the group, Grindelward probably, she identified the Anti-Apparation orb from the years of working as an Auror, and she knew there wasn't any chance of apparating for her, the minute she touched her wand, they would stop her easily. She would die as a fighter, as a Gryffindor, she thought. Then she remembered her daughter, in front of her, probably unseen by the group because of her long robes.

That was when her mind literally stopped. Maybe it understood that her efforts were futile, or maybe, the little crevice in her mind, she called it whenever she was afraid, terrified in that situation, was getting bigger and bigger by every passing second.

She was never an emotional person, or so she liked to call it. She had a steel self control, thus, her emotions never came to light. So when her mind was stopped, she never expected her heart to take its place. And the rush of love was the key to save her daughter.

The key. A portkey.

It was simple, yet effective, and if she could manage to make her necklace a portkey without getting their attention...

She clutched her necklace, and tore it with a firm hand. She prayed to whoever found silent spells, and she depicted Potter's mansion clearly in her head and whispered, Portus. The necklace shined brightly, but she had already hidden it into her cloak from the prying eyes.

She felt her daughter stir in her arms, and she whispered, 'Mother, what's wrong?' in a sleepy voice. 'Nothing sweetheart.' She whispered back, and let a lonely tear escape from her wet eyes. She had so many things to do with her daughter, so many things to say... She closed her eyes and let her memories flood into the necklace, leaving her mind in a peaceful state.

'Mother, who are those black men?' she asked, realizing the hooded figures getting nearer by second.

'Nobody to worry about, honey. Now, when I say now, take my necklace, all right?' she asked, preventing her voice from shaking with sheer willpower.

She felt her daughter nod, and she extended her hand which was holding the necklace, and said, in voice as clear as water, 'Now!'

With that, Isabelle Putey felt her broom get lighter, and she knew death awaited her. She knew she stood no chance against Elder wand, but she knew she would take as much of them as she could with her.

And she did, she died as a Gryffindor.

So?