10. Decisions Decisions

I don't remember moving from the archway and onto the armchair – Nanny Anne's armchair that had been vacant since her death. If I had been paying attention I would have noticed the tea I was holding was in the mug I had broken not moments ago. The tea which I was sure should have been burning my hands. But I felt nothing. My body was numb; I couldn't feel my injured foot, my hands, my stuffy throat.

My eyes were fixed on the scorch mark above the fireplace. It held no significance to me – it had been there long before I arrived in Ottery St. Catchpole. But it was the only thing I could focus on distantly without my eyes burning.

Fifteen years old and I was victim to yet another tragedy, another death of a loved one. I told myself I was lucky, that there were millions of children and families in third world countries losing someone every day, living in fear every waking moment. But I wasn't in a third world country. I wasn't in the middle of a war, yet my family were dead. And this wasn't fair. I didn't deserve this. I must have been a despicable person in a past life to deserve this: the disownment, being ostracised, the deaths.

Dumbledore's words echoed in my head. "I feel we have met on the most unfortunate of circumstances, Ella. I deeply apologise to inform you of Bill…"I didn't listen to the rest of his speech. I didn't want to hear it. I was back in my eight year old mentality, wanting to cry and lash out and crawl in a corner away from everyone but wanting comfort and love simultaneously, for someone to brave my immature struggling and hold me.

The lavender and blue of his robes were still from the corner of my eyes. He sat patiently on the pistachio-green sofa, a mug of his own sat on the coffee table. How long had we sat like this? In silence, contemplating nothing. Well, I speak for myself. Dumbledore was probably deciding what to do with me. He could leave me, being the bearer of bad news and leave me to wallow alone. Or he could offer me some company, for however long. Not many other options, I guess.

"When did he…?" I croaked, not daring to finish the question. But I didn't have to, Dumbledore understood and offered the tiniest smile.

"Yesterday. I believe you are aware of his…lineage?" I nodded. "Well then, as wizards, we are required to bury the fallen as soon as possible. I'm afraid to say it has been done," Dumbledore said in his soft voice. I was glad I wouldn't have to deal with another funeral, Nanny Anne's was enough to last me a lifetime – I never wanted to participate in another one again.

"Where is he…?"

"In the Wizarding world. It is near his childhood home, in Scotland. It is what he asked for."

We succumbed into silence once again. Being of pureblood descent to those likely to aristocrats, I was taught never to question things, that fate is not to be doubted and whatever will be, will be. None of that mattered now. Questions whirred around in my head. How did Bill die? What had he been doing that demanded to be kept a secret? Was he involved in illicit activity? Who killed him? Were they the same people who'd hunted him down during the War? How did he die? (No – scratch that, I'd rather not know.)

The mug slipped from my unresponsive fingers, and I was back in the kitchen, the scolding water burning my skin, the glass piercing my foot, the blood imprinting my footsteps on the shiny floor. But this time it didn't fall. It stopped an inch from the ground, floating in the air. I watched as it soared higher and higher and drifted onto the table with a clink. Dumbledore's lip twitched and he lowered his wand.

"I have other matters to discuss, Miss Ella."

I looked up and nodded. Being in the muggle world for so long I had forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of magic. It blew me away. I was nothing more than a muggle, I mused, watching in fascination the wonders of mundane magic that even a magical child could perform.

"Bill cared greatly for you, as I'm sure you are aware," I was not, for he had mentioned many times before that he felt compelled to care for me, after Nanny Anne. But I stayed silent. "And he asked a great favour of me." He paused. I noted this man was certainly one for dramatics. "He wished for me to be your guardian."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Now, this took a great deal of thought," Dumbledore continued, "but Bill was a good man – a remarkable man. And after hearing of your…circumstances, I feel there is no reason for me not to care for you as Bill would have wanted. However, there are certain terms we must agree to."

I inwardly scoffed. Of course my life would be determined by a contract.

"I assure you that not all these will dictate you in any way, merely, they are guidelines, of sorts, to ensure your safety. Nothing at all like a contract, if you will," his lip upturned ever so slightly in a sort of smirk. I gaped. Had he read my mind? No, surely not. "But first, we must discuss your living arrangements."

"What of them?" I asked. I didn't care to think of moving, but what was there here for me now? I had no one to look after me here – not that that mattered entirely; Nanny Anne brought me up to look after myself as an independent woman.

"You may, if you wish, stay here. My visits will not stray from the weekends as I will be attending my duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts. You can continue your muggle education here and stay with your friends, working up to a muggle future in this world. I'm sure you can find someone to share your week with," he said. I should have been happy, being able to stay as I was. But for some reason I hesitated.

"And my other option?" I asked. I held my breath in anticipation.

His eyes twinkled again behind his spectacles and his lips turned up behind his beard. "Or, you may come to Hogwarts with me, where you can talk to me whenever you feel is appropriate. You can work, with pay, and even study in your spare time. What you study, is up to you."

"What does that mean, study what I like? What, you mean Hogwarts' classes?" I interrupted.

"Yes, you may. I can offer you private tuition with the Professors and give you all the necessary books. Your exams will be in private also, although you will be exempt from the practical. Your qualifications in these will aid you in finding a future job in the wizarding world. A Nursing Healer, perhaps, where not much magical ability is necessary, you could shadow a Healer and offer non-magical assistance. I hear that a few muggle practices are becoming more common. Working in an apothecary, a shopkeeper, anything without the demand of a wand really. We even have a squib working in the school, a Mr Argus Filch."

My heart pounded in my ears as he went on. I couldn't believe what he was offering me. In essence, it was the childhood I had missed out on. It was within my reach right now, just a small stretch and I'd be able to hold it, grasp it and never let go. I'd be back in the Wizarding world, I'd be home.

"Will you need more time to decide, Ella?" Dumbledore asked and broke my thoughts.

The pros were bouncing around in my head, the cons completely over the horizon and on the other side of the world. I couldn't let this opportunity go. It was where Bill was born and raised, where he returned to before his last days on Earth. I could go, to honour Bill if nothing else. Surely he would want that, what he always wanted. And it was where I was born. And this Filch, he would understand and help me. He was just like me. And with Dumbledore just a corridor away…

"I've decided," I said.

Dumbledore smiled, as if reading the answer in my eyes. "I must warn you, Ella, to think very carefully before coming to a decision. This will impact your entire life, returning to the magical world. Are you willing to sacrifice your muggle life, away from your friends and education?"

I should have listened attentively to the warning in his voice. He was surely hinting at something. But I didn't care.

"I'm sure."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Would you be willing to leave now? I will lead you to your dorm and sort you with everything you need."

"Yes, now's perfect." I wasn't sure if the shaking of my hands was due to excitement or nervousness – most likely the latter. I was anxious, there was no denying that. "I'll just go and pack," I said, and stood up from the armchair to pack my belongings.

I stumbled over Kiwi up the stairs – I wasn't aware she was still here – and threw everything I touched into a bag.

Back downstairs, I was confronted with a thought. "Dumbledore, sir. The shop – Bill's shop, who'll look after it?" I asked.

"I will deal with that, Ella. Now, are you all packed?"

"Yes, sir."

"And the pet, are you bringing it with you?" Dumbledore smiled down at the cat nuzzling against his leg and stroked her fur.

"No, it's not mine. Shoo, get lost Kiwi, go home," I shooed her out the door. "I'm ready sir."

I turned back to Dumbledore to see him standing by the fireplace, the large green flames enticing me forward. He nodded to me and I followed, standing beside him in the fireplace.

"Hold onto my arm, Ella. You may not be familiar with the sensations from the Floo," he suggested. I held onto his arm tightly, my other hand gripping my bag.

I quickly surveyed the room to see if I had missed anything. I looked up to Dumbledore to see him gazing down questioningly at me, his blue eyes asking me the all-important question: are you definitely sure? You can still back out… I nodded firmly, cast a quick mental goodbye to the odd armchairs sitting side-by-side.

Dumbledore's voice spoke loud and firm, "Hogwarts School, Dumbledore's Office."

And I was consumed with the free-falling feeling, the sudden weight and lightness in my stomach and my feet floating off the ground.