The mandrake leaf was annoying. There had been a couple incidents in the last two weeks where I'd been surprised, or was eating, and the leaf had almost come out. No wonder there was barely any animagi in the world. The process was so bothersome. Only two weeks left, I reminded myself.
I had just finished eating breakfast on the Saturday after Valentine's Day – I received a card from my brother, like usual, and I sent him one, but besides the generic ones, I hadn't received anything truly interesting – when a first year Slytherin sauntered up to me with the ease of pureblood society. I thanked him, like one ought to, and looked down at the folder parchment. I cracked it open, reading the unfamiliar scrawl.
Please come to the Headmaster's office immediately, Miss Black.
-Albus Dumbledore
I ripped the parchment up and set it on fire discretely, watching as it withered away. I collected my bag from the bench beside me and slung it over my shoulder, mouth closed and the mandrake leaf still inside. I headed up the stairs, avoiding the stairs of Nott, Zabini and even Prewett as I walked past the Slytherin table, and headed down the corridor towards the awaiting gargoyle which spun open when it spotted me. Nifty little charm, I thought, I'll have to figure out what charm that is.
I walked up the stairs, running my tongue over the mandrake leaf in my mouth, a habit that I had picked up in the last two weeks. Professor Dumbledore with a serene smile sat behind his desk. I greeted him, coolly, not exactly polite, not exactly rude. He was helping me after all, but he was also using me and I was barely seventeen. Then again, he'd been playing Harry Potter like a muggle's fiddle from the time he could walk. It was just the way his world spun.
"Miss Black," said he with a spark in his eye. "I know that we agreed you would be starting missions come summer but I have an urgent one now for you. It is up to you, of course, but it would really help those innocent in this country." I looked up at him from under my spiralling black curls.
Well, I realised, looking at his body language, I didn't have a choice in the matter if I wanted this deal to continue. "I'll take the mission," I told him. "But don't pretend as if I am more than a pawn in your eyes. Someone as old as you, headmaster, should have learned that there are others in the world that are better at reading between the lines."
"Of course, Miss Black," said he.
He rose from behind his cluttered desk, scouring his untidy shelves until he came upon a regular looking notebook, about the size of my palm. He presented it to me with a sweep of his hand. I took it without restraint. There was no need for pretences here. I knew my place, my duty, just as he knew I knew.
The pages of the notebook were yellow and there was absolutely no writing on any of the pages. But, still, magic vibrated from within. Still examining the book, I dropped my bag to the floor. "What is this for?"
"Have you travelled by portkey before, Miss Black?"
"Of course," I answered.
"Well then, I suspect you know what this is. It will leave in two minutes exactly, starting now."
"What is the mission?" I demanded.
"Three order members took on a mission yesterday evening without my knowledge. They were attacked, one was killed, but the other two have yet to return," he said, returning to his desk. He sat down softly, looking at me over his spectacles.
"You want me to find them and bring them back to Headquarters?"
"Yes, preferably before Monday."
I glared at him intensely. What a great deal of information, I thought. He was being purposely vague. Well, whatever. I would do this and I would succeed. Neither of the other two would come back dead and they would be sipping tea back at Headquarters within an hour.
Then, just as I remembered the portkey, I reached down to pick up my bag and bring it along but before I could, the portkey heated and I was whisked out of the headmaster's office. The last thing I head from the headmaster was, "I believe the answer you will seek is on the last page."
I landed gruffly on a hard patch of terrain and, as I looked around, I realised I knew this area – it was section reserved only for Wizards and Witches. Godric's Hollow, a wizarding village.
I picked myself up easily, brushing the dirt of my robes – my Hogwarts school robe over a pair a white skirt and a red blouse. There was nobody around, even though the sun was high in the sky and the wind was refreshing. A beautiful day, I noticed. Ironic. There was a cemetery to my right and a cobbled lane on my left, lined with wizarding houses of every size and shape. Most were painted white but some were green and red and blue. I headed down this road, looking for any signs of destruction. But there were absolutely none – just houses and closed curtains, which was odd, I admit.
"Hey, psst," said a voice from behind me. There, through a window in the first house I had passed was a man waving at me frantically. He was waving me over. I turned directions, walking towards him, gravel crunching under my feet as I did so. As I approached him, he disappeared from the window and opened the front door, waving me in. I put my hand over my wand, holding it carefully, just in case. The man closed the door behind me. "What are you doing out here?" He demanded.
Well, I couldn't exactly tell him that, could I? "Why?" I asked instead. "What happened here?"
"There was a fight, girl," he said, gruffly, leading me into a moderately sized kitchen in the back of the house. "Death eaters, of course. It isn't safe to be out there, especially in that uniform. They'll string you up just to make an example." I recoiled slightly, pulling off my school robes and folding them over my arm. He was right, I thought. Bloody Dumbledore.
"When did the fight happen? And what can you tell me about the participants?" I pushed, sitting down in a chair he gestured to. He was an older man, maybe in his fifties or sixties, with a short beard and dull blue eyes. But he'd helped me and that made up for any shortness in his voice and words.
He eyed me. "Yesterday. There were about three to seven. Seven Death Eaters, that is." He paused. "Dumbledore sent you, didn't he?"
I looked at him. "Yes."
He relaxed slightly, I noticed. Brilliant, a Dumbledore fan. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "So, please tell me what you can."
"What's Dumbledore doing sending out a little girl like you? What game is he playing? This is a war. There's no room for toys and games. People are dying. One of your people died last night. And Dumbledore sends you as his back-up?" His tone was snobbish, up-tight. But, I understood exactly what he was saying. So, as an answer, I shrugged. "Fine! The two of them left got away – disappeared into one of the houses on the next road over, I suspect. Death Eaters have put up anti-disapparation wards. They're going to each house. Haven't been here, yet."
"What?" I said, startled. "Put up some wards. Keep them out."
"No point," he said, his tone rough, taking a gulp from the mug already sitting on the table.
"Of course there's a point. You can't just let them waltz in here, no matter who they follow."
"That's easy for you to say, girl. What are you? Half-blood? Pureblood? They won't kill you… they'll bring you back to their master, especially when they see that robe." He nodded at my school robes still draped over my arm. "Me – they'll kill me on sight, especially if they notice the wards. An enemy, they'll call me. And I am, to them – muggleborn."
"So? That's more reason to put up some wards. Keep them from killing you. I can do it – they'll never notice your house." I sat forward, staring intently at him. "Let me help you as you helped me, a stranger."
He looked at me again. "Fine!" he conceded.
I sat up quickly, withdrawing my wand. I rushed to the door, looking out the window beside it and, on noticing that the street was clear for now, I stepped outside. First I casted a notice-me-not charm over me, then the house. I added anti-apparation wards, which Severus taught me, as well as a disillusionment charm. I added a silencio charm just to be safe, and a mufiliato charm. I walked inside, locking the door magically so that no spell, not even alohamora could break in.
I rushed around the house, closing windows and curtains and setting up any other wards I could think of. When I returned to the kitchen, there was a glass of butterbeer waiting for me. I thanked him before taking a big gulp, sighing tiredly.
"Who taught you that?" He asked, more kindly than he'd been speaking to me before. "Dumbledore?"
"No," I told him. "My mentor, Severus Snape."
He looked up sharply. "Him?" His tone conveyed his shock more than anything else. "I remember him. Fourteen years ago – he flew through Godric's hollow – ended up at the Potter's house. The whole street heard the cries. He loved her, Lily Potter."
I looked up sharply. "Lily Potter?"
"Yes – Lily Potter."
I slumped back in my seat. Wow. That was the reason for everything in the last two decades – he wanted to honour her, probably, look after her son. Go against those who had been responsible for her death. But that could wait until later – I had a mission for now.
"Those men from yesterday… I need to find them. Can you help me…?" I trailed off, realising that even though a lot had transpired since I'd met this man less than an hour ago, I didn't know his name. "What should I call you?"
"Nicholas Prewett."
"Prewett?" I demanded. "As in Fabian and Gideon Prewett? Matthew Prewett?"
"You know my nephew, I see. Well, you are about his age."
