Days creaked by as some sense of normalcy passed through the castle. Nothing would ever really be normal. The war was still raging in the background and the old man was gone. Dumbledore had been murdered at the hands of Severus Snape. Though she never really got on well with the Headmaster, she would admit to feeling a sense of loss at his demise. He'd always been there, making sure she followed down the path he chose. He was a constant, nagging voice inside her head; always insistent she adhered to the rules. From the moment she entered Hogwarts at the tender age of eleven, the old man kept his eye on her with a knowing look she would come to hate in later years.

The offspring of Edward and Isadora McBraiden were gifted in their own fields. Their eldest Daughter, Adriana, a runes expert, spent her days as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. Their only son, Damian, captained the Falmouth Falcons and was known as one of the leagues premiere Keepers. Arabella was the youngest. She was a quiet child; spending most of her days before Hogwarts encamped in the massive library of her family home. Some might say she was a parent's dream. She rarely spoke, never misbehaved, and mostly kept to herself. They never once considered the possibility that their youngest could be hiding a difficulty, and when she came of age, her father began her lessons as he did with each of his children.

It was common knowledge among traditional pureblood families that the Witches and Wizards of ancient times harnessed their powers on their own. There was never any use for silly wand waving. Wands had been created in order to contain your powers and focus them. The older pureblood families, of which there were very few remaining on the continent, still believed in passing down this particular tradition; the McBraiden clan included. To draw upon magic without the aid of a wand and bend it to your will, the wielder must devote complete concentration and a level of focus that carries throughout their entire being.

10 Years Before:

She hadn't meant to cause trouble. The explosion came out of nowhere and before she knew it footsteps could be heard racing down the hall. She could make out the tall figure of the Headmaster rounding the corner, eyes filled with alarm.

Arabella knew in an instant she'd been caught. The look he sent her left nothing to interpretation. It was judgmental and accusatory. The old man knew and no amount of occlumency could keep him from the truth.

Perhaps he would expel her. What sort of punishment does one receive for blowing up the fourth floor girl's lavatory? As thoughts of dishonor and family embarrassment ran their course, a quiet voice broke through the chaos.

"Follow me Ms. McBraiden" and with that, the old man turned on his heel and began the trek back down the corridor, presumably towards his office where Arabella would most likely meet her fate.

The old man navigated his way through the dark corridors, a reluctant Arabella trailing behind. Up a winding staircase he led her until they stood side by side facing a massive stone griffin. Though she couldn't quite make it out, she swore he muttered something about Wine Gummies… whatever that was. With a grand whoosh, the griffin slid back to reveal the Headmaster's office; the very last place she wished to be.

The old man sat at his large stone desk, his eyes focused on her forlorn expression. After what felt like an eternity he let out a sigh and began to speak. "Ms McBraiden, Do you know why you are here?" With eyes downcast she quietly formed her answer.

"I assume Headmaster, it has something to do with the girls lavatory." Good she thought. Don't outright admit fault. Maybe she could make it through this relatively unscathed. "If you are referring to the rather large hole you've created where the girl's lavatory used to be, then your assumption would be correct."

Well that was it. She'd made it less than 3 months at Hogwarts before getting expelled. What was her Father going to say? She sat there with her head down, trying her best to look contrite while she contemplated whether or not she could make it at a school like Beauxbaton. "Ms. McBraiden, how exactly did there come to be a hole in the wall of the girl's lavatory, if you don't mind me asking?"

Arabella squirmed in her seat as she finally raised her head to speak. "I'm not entirely sure Headmaster. I slipped in a puddle of; I hope water, and raised my hands to catch myself. Next thing I knew... well...ya already know!"

"I see. Do these... ahem... events happen often Ms. McBraiden" The old man actually looked unsettled. For a minute Arabella contemplated whether or not she should tell him the truth. She figured it probably wasn't a good idea to try and pull the wool over on someone like Headmaster Dumbledore. She couldn't see it going all that well.

"I suppose you could say that Sir. I Certainly didn't mean for it to happen...lost my concentration is all." Arabella took a deep breath and tried to look as sincere as possible. "It wont happen again Sir. I Promise."

The headmaster gave her a knowing look, placing a hand on his chin as if contemplating his next course of action. Arabella once again let her head drop as she waited. She knew what he would say next. She'd be on the next train out of here. 'Pack your bags Ms McBraiden' that's what he would say.

"I think, perhaps this should stay between the two of us Ms. McBraiden." Her head suddenly snapped up as she looked at the Headmaster in disbelief. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? "From now on you will meet with me once a week and I will teach you how Not to lose control." Arabella simply nodded. What else could she do? She felt as though she'd been granted a reprieve of some sort; didn't even care that she'd be stuck with the old man once a week for who knew how long.

Hesitantly she rose from her chair and made for the door. "Ms McBraiden, Do remember what I told you." His face seemed stern now. "This stays between the two of us." She nodded hurriedly and left, running down staircase, trying to put as much distance between herself and the old man as possible.

Present Day

And so it became, their secret. The weekly sessions were spent relieving bottled up tensions and focusing on ways to better control her abilities. Control them she did, up until four days prior when she single handedly destroyed a potions lab in a matter of seconds.

Hours she'd spent, tirelessly working, attempting to piece him back together. She'd tried desperately to hold on to whatever sanity remained, focused all her energy on keeping control of herself long enough to save him. When it was over; when she knew he would make it, she left her charge in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey and made her way down to the dungeons.

She couldn't honestly tell you what happened. One moment she was racing towards an abandoned lab and the next she was surrounded by destruction. All around her pieces of table tops and wooden tools were strewn across the floor. Nothing in the room had escaped her wrath.

When McGonagall finally made her way to the dungeons, she found Arabella sat in the middle of the floor amidst the debris, tears streaming down her face. She'd never felt so alone; so vulnerable. Her potions master was a traitor, Bill had almost died, and the old man was gone... Dumbledore was gone.